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tigerstrikesasteroidnetwork · 1 year ago

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NY / &&&2

&&&2 January 6, 2024 – February 18, 2024 Opening Reception: Jan 6, Saturday 6-8PM A talk with the artists will be scheduled in February

Tiger Strikes Asteroid New York is pleased to present &&&2, a bi-coastal exhibition that serves as both a survey and sequel to the collaborations of Ethan Greenbaum, David Kennedy Cutler and Sara Greenberger Rafferty.

Ten years ago, the artists initiated a series of meetings to talk about materials and techniques, based on their mutual interest in using photographic imagery to destabilize traditional art categories like painting, printmaking and sculpture.

The meetings resulted in an artist’s book titled &&&, in which the three artists imagined themselves as a fictional industrial supply firm. For Greenberger & Greenbaum & Cutler &, the fictional company had a veneer of prestige. For these capitalist outsiders, a corporate symbol of joint commercial enterprise was almost tantamount to success.

The book was released at Printed Matter’s NY Art Book Fair in 2013 in both a mass market paperback and a boxed, limited special edition print series based on swatch sample catalogs. The intention of the project was lost on nearly everyone, but a few key people became aware of the artists’ positioning themselves as a small movement. This included the photography curator Dan Leers, who organized a show and catalog of their work, Beyond The Surface: Image as Object, at the Philadelphia Photo Arts Center in 2014.

To commemorate the 10th anniversary of &&&, Sun You has invited Greenberger & Greenbaum & Cutler to mount an exhibition at TSA in Brooklyn, NY. There will also be a simultaneous version of the show at Ditch Projects in Springfield, OR. The exhibitions at both artist-run spaces feature a backdrop that wraps the gallery with deconstructed pages from the original &&& book, over which the artists have installed works from 2013 and 2023. The original book is also exhibited, as well as a new portfolio of prints (&&&2) to celebrate ten fruitful years of collaboration, hand wringing and friendship

Ethan Greenbaum is a New York based artist. Selected exhibition venues include KANSAS, New York; Derek Eller Gallery, New York; Hauser and Wirth, New York; Marlborough Chelsea, New York, Higher Pictures, New York; New York; Marianne Boesky, New York, Circus Gallery, Los Angeles; Steve Turner, Los Angeles; The Suburban, Chicago; Michael Jon & Alan, Miami, The Aldrich Museum, Connecticut; Socrates Sculpture Park; Long Island City and Stems Gallery, Brussels. Recent projects include a solo presentation with Lyles & King and solo exhibitions at Galerie Pact, Paris and Super Dakota, Brussels.

His work has been discussed in The New York Times, Modern Painters, Artforum, BOMB Magazine, ArtReview and Interview Magazine, among others. Ethan is a co-founder and editor of thehighlights.org and his writings have appeared in the Brooklyn Rail, Wax Magazine, BOMB, Paper Monument and others. He has also curated and co-curated multiple exhibitions at venues including The Suburban, Chicago; Lyles & King, New York and Super Dakota, Brussels. Greenbaum is the recipient of the Queens Art Fund New Work Grant, the Silver Art Residency, The Keyholder Residency at the Lower East Side Printshop, Dieu Donne’s Workspace Residency, LMCC’s Workspace Program, The Robert Blackburn SIP Fellowship, The Socrates EAF Fellowship, The Edward Albee Foundation Residency and The Barry Schactman Painting Prize. He received an MFA in Painting from Yale School of Art.

David Kennedy Cutler is an artist, writer and performer who lives and works in Brooklyn, New York. Cutler received his BFA from The Rhode Island School of Design in 2001. He has had solo exhibitions at Derek Eller Gallery, New York; Halsey McKay Gallery, East Hampton; Essex Flowers, New York; The Centre for Contemporary Art, Tallinn, Estonia and Nice & Fit, Berlin, Germany. Cutler has performed in various spaces in New York including Klaus von Nichtssagend Gallery, Essex Flowers, Printed Matter, Halsey McKay, Derek Eller Gallery, and Flag Art Foundation, and internationally at the Center for Contemporary Arts Estonia, among others. His works are included in the permanent collections of the Wellin Museum at Hamilton College and The RISD Museum, and his artist’s books are included in the libraries of the Whitney Museum and the Brooklyn Museum. He has been reviewed and featured in The New York Times, Artforum, Art in America, The New Yorker and Modern Painter, among others. Cutler is represented by Derek Eller Gallery, NY and Halsey McKay Gallery, East Hampton.

Sara Greenberger Rafferty produces image-based works in paper, plastic, glass, metal, fabric, and video. Her work is driven by an ongoing examination of contemporary and mid-20th century visual culture and considers the ever-changing implications for photographic images in the digital era. She’s also into comedy.

Ditch Projects is a nonprofit artist-founded, artist-run studio, exhibition, and performance space providing contemporary art experiences in Springfield, Oregon. As a collective of artists and professionals committed to exhibiting experimental artists from diverse backgrounds, Ditch Projects provides opportunities for cultural exchange between experimental contemporary art and our local community, acting as an integral voice within contemporary art discourse in the Pacific Northwest. Since its founding in 2008, Ditch Projects has featured over 145 exhibitions and 275 artists. Growing organically out of the concerns of its artist members, Ditch provides contemporary visual arts practitioners with an opportunity to test out new ideas, processes, and approaches they might not otherwise attempt in a comparable urban center. Over the past decade, the primary focus of the artist collective has been on the production and presentation of new works by regional, national and international artists, with a consistent 10-12 solo, two-person or group exhibitions per season. Past exhibiting artists have included internationally renowned practitioners such as Amy Yao, Diana Thater, Scott Reeder, Laura Owens, Jessica Jackson Hutchinsons, and Vito Acconci, along with regionally acclaimed artists such as Ralph Pugay, Amy Bernstein, Lisa Radon, Tannaz Farsi, James Lavadour, and Kristen Kennedy. Exhibitions at Ditch Projects have been reviewed in Art Forum, Frieze, Art in America, and the New York Times. Ditch Projects has received grants from the Andy Warhol Foundation, The Miller Foundation, the Ford Family Foundation, the Oregon Arts Commision, the Oregon Cultural Trust, Oregon Community Foundation, and the WLS Spencer Foundation.

#tiger strikes asteroid #tigerstrikesasteroid #&&&2

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because-she-goes · 1 year ago

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nike’s ascension

warnings: none. Enjoy!

Nora was now entering junior year at The Parsons School of Design. Yes, that Parsons. She had gotten accepted after she sent in a portfolio of her post-rehab work and the admissions team realized she was not just some regular New York girl who saw art as a hobby to do for a few years before marrying a Wall-Street guy and having babies in the Hamptons.

This was Nora Downey, a woman who had used art to work through her emotions and trauma and saw how it could help heal. A woman who had oil paint flowing in her veins and her skin may as well have been marble or clay. It consumed her every being, all she thought about was art - from the moment she woke up in the morning and poured her morning coffee while looking over the Art and Culture pages of the New York Times to going to sleep at night to the sounds of the city she loved. She had officially moved out of her underclassmen dorm, and with the help and blessing of her parents had gotten an apartment in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. It was small and cramped, but it was close to a studio and the subway so she could get to her classes up in Manhattan. It was her home.

She brought up the subject of her moving to her parents while at a cafe in the Gramercy area. She acknowledged that with her being more successful she could manage to pay for her rent, grocery, utilities and any other bills while helping her parents with tuition payments when possible. With the success of her rehab and underclassmen work, she landed an internship with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in their curating department and assisted in finding fresh pieces to add to their extensive collections as well as organizing their current pieces that were in storage and not for display.

She adored her life. Nora - or Nike as most of her friends called her - had a great job, a somewhat steady income, a decent-enough boyfriend to come home to, adoring parents, a good rapport with her therapist Linda and she was doing what she loved in the city she loved. She had her routine: get up at 7am, get coffee for the curating team at the Met, show up by 7:45am, stay and work until 2pm, then go to her studio classes and work on her next piece until 6pm, then meet Derek for dinner. It was what she always dreamt of. The quiet yet fulfilling life of an artist.

The fall semester went by in a breeze, Nora being the star pupil in her Junior Abstract Studio course. She had been working non-stop for months, at times her and her friends would order pizza to the studio and blast music all night and work through until sunrise. Sharing paints, ideas, sketch books and even bedrooms and couches - she was lucky enough to have a group of friends who not only supported and encouraged her work, but brought out the best in her and pushed her to improve. The group of students would then stumble out of the studio like zombies, going to the bodega for breakfast sandwiches and coffees before the cycle restarted.

Nora was in the zone, on her A game. Even now, all these years later the stories of Nora Downey surround Parsons like Greek myths, freshman whispering over how she topped the New Yorker’s Ones to Watch list that year, had 15 pieces sold before December her first year and rose like a phoenix from the coals of addiction. She was unreal. A legend among men. And she wasn’t even a senior yet.

Speaking of her senior year she had sold more works than any other individual in her class, was working on a senior thesis to present to her peers that spring, and was being pursued by every art curator she knew to get her work in their museum. She knew her stuff was sought after, but she was still humble enough to recognize she was not the only talented woman about to graduate from Parsons. She had friends who were able to make the most stunning gowns out of thin air, create buildings off a sketch, make interiors for the city’s most iconic apartment buildings, and more. She was able to recognize the power of being a woman in the arts and the inherent sisterhood that comes with that. This was something her male colleagues still refused to acknowledge - that they weren’t these special entities the media or press made them out to be, that their work was simply a variant of works that came before them and inspired the modern day. Her male counterparts would brag about themselves to various publications about how they were God’s gift to art or put on some grand display of coolness - wearing leather jackets and sunglasses in the middle of New York Summer during their break. The men tried to come off effortlessly cosmopolitan, unbothered or unknowing of their success while Nora and her friends had the wherewithal to know they were not only successful, but they had unashamedly worked hard to get to that point. The idea of putting effort into one’s work and actually caring about that process was not something to be meek about to Nora. It was this simple trait of Nora’s that cemented her as the shining star of Parson’s art program. She was disinterested in the notion that caring was uncool or unchic.

The ability to recognize that. That was what made Nora Downey into Nike. She both gave a shit about her work and also worked to not only advocate for other women, but would give them her spotlight and space without a second thought.

By the time she graduated, Nora had mentioned over 200 other female artists currently working in New York. And in her final interview with Parsons, she simply gave a single statement to explain why she found so much success:

“Because, women must hold each other and support one another to get anywhere in life. I owe all of my success so far to those who have come before me and those who work beside me. Without them, I’d be nowhere.”

With this, Nora finished her collegiate career with a series taking inspiration from her colleagues and the women who helped her improve over the years, gave her critiques, gave her support, gave her a shoulder to cry on or food in her stomach after locking herself in her studio. Some composed of black and white images, some more graphic and colorful, the dichotomy of being bold while also showing her restraint and understanding of when to be subtle being the hallmark of the collection. All of these elements taken from what she not only learned from her friends and peers, but also Parsons and its teachers.

She was smart enough to know that she had gotten a second lease on life and a chance to pursue her passion as a career - a chance many are not fortunate enough to receive - so why not put everything into her work and give herself the best possible life and experience she could. Why not put her all into this? Why not see where luck and determination lead her? In Nike, and herself, she trusts.

#drew’s writing :)#matty x nora #WE’RE FUCKIN BACK BABY #AAAAHHHH #I MISSED HER SO BAD

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jenringwrites · 1 year ago

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Weekend Artings: Arts Alive and five other ways to enjoy the arts in Tampa Bay this weekend

Get into four St. Pete art museums for free during Arts Alive

Four St. Pete Museums are letting Pinellas County residents in free this Saturday. Now’s your chance to see Dali’s drawings, Imagine Museum’s collection of contemporary glass, wildlife art at The James, or Dogs in Art at the MFA gratis. Sat., Sept. 23.

Sip sangria and see seabirds at the Tampa Bay History Center

Artist John Costin and Seaside Seabird Sanctuary converge on the Tampa Bay History Center for Sangria and Stories. Have a glass of sangria and learn about Costin’s printed birds before heading outside for a meet and greet with some of Seaside Seabird Sanctuary’s live birds. Thurs., Sept. 21, 5:30-7:30 p.m. $20.

The Story of Art continues at the MFA

The MFA’s Curator of Contemporary Art, Katherine Pill, continues “The Story of Art” with a discussion of art historian Linda Nochlin’s 1971 essay examining the institutional obstacles that historically prevented women from succeeding in the arts. Thurs., Sept. 21, 6-7 p.m. $10 for MFA members, $20 for everyone else.

Two-night graffiti showcase Letterheadz opens at Saint Paint Arts in Pinellas Park

50+ artists contributed to this graffiti art show. Fri. & Sat., Sept. 23-24, 6-11 p.m.

Rumba En Clearwater

See the sunset over Clearwater Harbor with live Latin music and authentic Mexican eats in Clearwater’s Coachman Park. Sat. Sept. 23, 6-10 p.m.

MFA Members celebrate the first day of fall

Saturday officially marks the first day of fall, and the MFA celebrates with coffee, pastries, and the third installment of Christian Sampson’s “Tempus volat, hora fugit.” Sat. Sept. 23, 8-10 a.m. Free for MFA members with pre-registration.

#tampa bay area #tampa bay florida #artwork

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ainews · 1 year ago

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Pawnshop racing isn't a pastime typically associated with luxury, but one of its unique characteristics is a blood-red hue. The reason for this unique characteristic of the pawnshop racing niche is rooted in some of its many traditions.

The color of the pawnshop racing machines was originally meant to symbolize the lifestyle of those involved. "Red was meant to represent the lifestyle of these racers, of being on the edge of poverty," said Derek Fojtik, owner and curator of the Ruffian Racing Museum in Cincinnati, Ohio. "It symbolically represented having to put everything on the line to make their dreams come true."

The colour choice was also a practical one. "Because these were very low budget racers, if you had to do paint touch ups or touch up rust spots you could buy a small can of red paint much cheaper than a fancy colour of paint," said Racer Mike Edington.

Red also became a color of good luck for those involved in pawnshop racing. "Many racers believed that if they raced a red car, that luck was on their side," says Edington. The color was also said to have attracted attention, which was often needed to help in financial support for the racers.

Today, pawnshop racing has a large but loyal following. The traditional blood-red painted cars still appear in races, faithfully adhering to the traditions of the culture. While still based on dreams and the art of self-made machines, the blood-red hue adds another level of history and character to the sport.

#ai generated #fake news

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mediaonedesign · 2 years ago

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Mediaonedesign.com - Philadelphia Georgia Bulldogs Eagles logo shirt

Buy this shirt: Click here to buy this Mediaonedesign.com - Philadelphia Georgia Bulldogs Eagles logo shirt

The 2023 Met Gala livestream will begin at 6 p.m. EST. Need a reminder? You can sign up to receive an alert when the Philadelphia Georgia Bulldogs Eagles logo shirt moreover I love this livestream starts. Vogue’s daily newsletter will provide updates from the red carpet, livestream access, plus top fashion stories and celebrity style. This year, the 2023 Met Gala livestream will be hosted by actor and producer La La Anthony, writer Derek Blasberg, and actor, comedian, and Saturday Night Live cast member Chloe Fineman. Internet multi hyphenate Emma Chamberlain, meanwhile, will return as Vogue’s special correspondent. “Karl Lagerfeld A Line of Beauty, on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art from May 5 to July 16. The annual Met Gala provides the Costume Institute with its primary source of funding for exhibitions, publications, acquisitions, operations, and capital improvements. The exhibition will serve as an homage to Lagerfeld’s unparalleled contributions to the world of fashion. “One thing I knew for certain is that we could not do a traditional retrospective, Andrew Bolton, the Costume Institute’s Wendy Yu Curator in Charge, told Vogue back in September. “For one thing, I think Karl would have hated that. Even though one of his facets was that he was a historicist, and he would revisit themes in his work, he was always looking to the future in his own work—he hated looking back at the past.

Yes The dress code for this year’s Met Gala will be “in honor of Karl. Considering the Philadelphia Georgia Bulldogs Eagles logo shirt moreover I love this late designer headed up many different luxury fashion houses throughout his career—including Balmain, Patou, Chloé, Fendi, Chanel, and his own Karl Lagerfeld brand—it’s safe to say there’s a rich variety of silhouettes, collections, and concepts for guests to draw inspiration from. The 2023 Met Gala’s official co chairs are Michaela Coel, Penélope Cruz, Roger Federer, Dua Lipa, and Anna Wintour. A larger than life figure whose career spanned seven decades, Karl Lagerfeld had many friends in fashion—and beyond. His work and legacy will be celebrated and examined in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute “Karl Lagerfeld A Line of Beauty as well as at the Met Gala (the dress code is “in honor of Karl). While we can expect many tributes to Lagerfeld on the steps of the Met, but ahead of that Vogue asked some of his friends and collaborators to remember him. Oscar winning director Sofia Coppola, for instance, remembered interning for Lagerfeld during the Chanel couture shows. “I will always remember the big bouquets of beautiful roses he gave all the interns at the end of the show, that made us feel so special. Lagerfeld was a mentor to many, including Silvia Venturini Fendi and Claudia Schiffer. The latter remembered, “he transformed me from a shy German girl into a supermodel. Below, read tributes from more of Lagerfeld’s inner circle, including Tom Ford, Willow Smith, and Amanda Harlech.

Home: Click here to visit Mediaonedesign.com

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celestialvoid-fanfiction · 7 years ago

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Sterek museum AU where Derek Hale is the director of the Beacon Hills Museum and the local expert in the fields of anthology and archaeology.

Stiles is the enthusiastic college student who visits the museum almost every other day, studying among the exhibits and looking for job openings.

Derek dismisses him at first, but then one day, Stiles accidentally leaves his study notes at the museum and Derek finds then when he’s doing a final sweep of the museum. Curious about what Stiles is studying and why he’s so intent on being at the museum, he takes a look inside and finds a mix of notes from entomology to archaeology. All the notes are really in depth, colour coded and at a level of study that should be beyond a college student. He hates to admit it, but he’s impressed.

The next day, Stiles comes bustling in and Derek is waiting for him at the front desk.

“I don’t know about job offers,” Derek says, offering Stiles back his thick book of study notes. “But if you’re looking for a supervisor for your dissertation, I’d be happy to take you on.”

#i need this #i'll just be in the corner crying over this au #why am i so emotional over it? I DON'T KNOW #I JUST WANT THIS SO BAD #sterek #sterek au #sterek museum au #teen wolf au #teen wolf museum au #museum curator derek #museum curator!derek #museum director derek #museum director!derek #college au #college student stiles #college student!stiles #eternalsterek

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cafeacademia · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭

There is a big list of prompts below for fluff, angst & hurt/comfort and smut (18+ if you request smut) BUT feel free to also send in your own ideas/prompts and mix and match my prompts with your own. These are all Autumn/cosy themed - even if the prompt itself is not inherently Autumnal, the theme of the fic will be!

My requests are open for: (if any of these are crossed out, it's because I have a lot of requests for them)

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Bucky Barnes

Matt Murdock

Pietro Maximoff

Marc & Steven

You can send up to 3 prompts per request from any category. Feel free to send several requests if you like, just maybe don’t send me a feck load all at once lmao. Make sure you send the prompts or the numbers and let me know which section it was from as well as the character you want to request it for.

If you want to add in or send your own ideas and prompts, I’m open to most things, but my main boundary is writing about motherhood/childbirth/breeding kink etc. I’m also open to mildly dark fics (by mildly dark, I mean things like consensual non consent, maybe a little bit of dubcon, naive!Reader etc, but I will never write it so that it’s super dark)

Fluff Prompts

Playing in the leaves together

Going for a walk/hike to see the changing of the leaves

Always seeing each other from the window and finally interacting one day

Spending a gloomy autumn afternoon in the back of the library/bookshop together

Working in a bookshop and finally approaching your regular customer after he comes in so often

You always bump into your neighbour on the rooftop or on the fire escape and this time you finally stop to talk

Reading dark academia/spooky books together

You go to a halloween party together and he’s super impressed by your outfit/costume

You’ve been penpals for ages, but you’ve never met in person until a stormy autumnal afternoon

You knit a scarf or jumper for him and he LOVES it

Decorating the house/apartment for autumn

Having hot coffee in a quiet cafe and playing chess or reading together

Going to a museum together

Making him a book nook for his bookshelf as a gift

Trying to help him explore fiction more by giving him your recommendations through little secret notes and he has to work out who his secret book recommender is

Baking pie or cakes together

Having a secret friendship/relationship and meeting somewhere obscure

Passing notes in university lectures and getting to know each other only through the notes because you’re too shy to approach him outside of class

Museum curator!Reader/Character gives the other a tour of the secret parts of the museum at night

Artist!Character asks to draw/paint you as part of a project

They discover your writing/drawings/poetry about them after you lose them

You go out to an orchard or pumpkin patch together

Angst & Hurt/Comfort Prompts:

You get stood up and he makes your night better

Too afraid of horror movies to watch them but too timid to tell people about that and him being the first or only one to realise

You go to a haunted house and you’re genuinely terrified

Scary biker!neighbour!character intimidates you to the point that you are terrified of him, but he’s actually very sweet and he almost has to corner you to show you that he’s a sweetheart and not going to hurt you

He takes his frustration out on you but is quick to patch things back up

He pushes you away when he’s afraid of you getting too close and getting hurt by what he does

Soulmate au - he tries to make you think that your soulmate is someone completely different because he’s afraid of you getting too close to him romantically and getting hurt

Someone won’t leave you alone and he’s about to step in but you kick ass before he can even open his mouth - maybe he falls a little bit more in love with you after that

He does something to scare you by accident - he didn’t want you to see that side of him

The guy that always intimidates you comes to you for help when he needs patching up/a place to stay and be safe for a couple of days and you realise he’s really not that scary at all

You reach for his hand when you’re scared/upset and he tries your best to comfort you

You tell him your trauma/about something that really hurt or scared you

He protects you when you’re walking home and someone approaches you

He intimidates you, but when you need him you approach him scared to ask for him help

Someone (another character/ex/etc) says something to hurt your feelings and he stands up for you

(18+) you try something new in the bedroom and you end up needing to use your safeword, character comforts you

Reassuring you that you will always be safe with him and he will never let anything happen to you after something happens to scare you - or you talk about a traumatic event to him

You overhear him talking about someone and misunderstand - you think he’s complaining about you, but he’s not. He finds out later and comforts you.

Smut Prompts:

Sex outside but sheltered while there’s a storm overhead

He pleasures you or you pleasure him while the other reads their book aloud as a challenge

Sex in front of the fireplace

God/Demon AU and he fucks you in his temple on Halloween

He gets turned on by you wearing a Halloween costume that is more like lingerie than a party outfit

Fucking in the office late at night

He takes you somewhere semi public or completely public during a mission/case

You try BDSM for the first time

Kink exploration! (send one you want to see - the only thing I won’t write is breeding kink)

There was some intense aphrodisiac in that Halloween hot chocolate you both just drank and oh no… you just so happen to be alone in a room with your crush

A little fun at a Halloween party

He sees how many orgasms he can give you to distract you from the scary horror movie on the tv

He sneaks in at night to see you get cock deep in you- could be a brother’s best friend scenario? Whatever you want idk

He’s a sex demon and he comes to you in the middle of the night (innocence kink??)

YOU’RE a sex demon and steal his soul while you let him fuck you breathless

Library/bookshop sex

Sex pollen

#spencer reid x reader #derek morgan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #fred weasley x reader

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 years ago

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Do you have any fics involving children. Preferably stiles or Derek's but I'm not fussy. Thank you xx

Sure thing!

A Wild Heart's Desire by mikkimouse

(1/1 I 13,410 I Teen)

If there's one thing Stiles Stilinski knows, it's that Deputy Derek Hale absolutely Does Not Like him. The only reason Derek even tolerates him is because their kids are worryingly codependent.

So Stiles is understandably confused when a very feral Derek shows up in his backyard after a call gone wrong and proceeds to move in with him.

That Which You Cannot Undo by uraneia

(1/1 I 28,181 I Explicit)

By twenty-eight, Stiles has resigned himself to a quiet life of working in his magic shop, selling Jackson Whittemore fart-inducing tea, and looking after his goddaughter. It's a good life. But the quiet goes to hell when his sister, Lydia, shows up with a crispy werewolf in her trunk and a bite mark on her shoulder, because hard on her heels comes the hottest person Stiles has ever seen, and he happens to be looking for his uncle.

You know, the dead guy Stiles helped Lydia bury last night.

(Or: the Pracitical Magic AU nobody asked for.)

Somewhere I Belong by heartsdesire456

(1/1 I 30,815 I Teen)

When Stiles got an interview for an internship at Fangs & Fur magazine, the publication owned by the well known and widely respected alpha Talia Hale, he never expected it to be offered an actual job by Alpha Hale herself. He also never expected for his life to change so much after he met the man whose department he was assigned to.

Stiles was not prepared for Derek Hale's cub, either.

Trust me by madsmeetsmisha

(18/? I 32,590 I Explicit)

Derek Hale needed a nanny for his kids. Someone who knew about werewolves, someone who was persistent enough not to throw in the sponge as soon as the kids wouldn't behave, someone trustworthy. Could a young, very talkative man like Stiles Stilinski be what Derek was looking for?

our lives are changing lanes by grimm

(1/1 I 47,537 I Explicit)

There's a lot of screaming going on inside the first house Stiles visits. He isn't really worried, because it sounds like kids, but then the door opens and hi, says his dick, because the dude in front of him is gorgeous, built like a god with a face like thunder. Stiles wants to lick that solid jaw line. Hold the fuck on, says his cop brain, because the dude's got kids hanging all over him; one's on his back, skinny legs looped around his waist, and another two hanging off one arm, toes barely brushing the ground. There's a tubby toddler clinging to his leg like a koala, and he's got a baby tucked into the crook of the one arm that doesn’t have kids hanging off it. Stiles' mouth drops open.

"How many of those kids did you kidnap?" he asks before he can wrangle his brain into submission.

The man gives him a look that says what the fuck is wrong with you and snaps, "You think I'd subject myself to this on purpose?"

"Oooh," says one of the kids hanging off his arm. "I'm telling Mom."

Give It Up to Me by moon_star

(8/? I 49,841 I Explicit)

Derek is a single father and a full time attorney. Stiles is the new intern at the law firm. They find it extremely hard to work together, but it gets even harder when they start sleeping together.

Bundle of Accidental Joy by tearsandholdme

(20/21 I 66,411 I Mature)

Stiles is just trying to live a simple life. Have a job, pay his rent, and survive enough to eat his next meal. But then he's fired from his job, watches a mother abandon her baby, tries to stop her and picks the baby up, and now everyone thinks the baby is his. Even his very handsome and moody boss, Derek Hale, who forces the responsibility onto him at the cost of keeping his job or else.

Balancing on breaking branches by Anonymous

(15/20 I 67,613 I Explicit)

“Your kid,” Derek said slowly, “came running up to me. Tried to nuzzle a hole into my calf.”

Stiles let out a laugh. It sounded bitter. “Caleb wouldn’t just leave my side like that. Did you call his name?”

“I’m not a—”

“A child predator? That’s exactly what a child predator would say, Derek."

Waiting For Our Superman by tearsandholdme

(22/22 I 95,250 I Mature)

Derek knew the moment he opened the front door of his clean and pristine apartment to Stiles Stilinski holding a small boy, a cluster of bags, and a suitcase, he was screwed. In every way possible. Undone by the big brown eyes of a small child and his annoying, witty, and attractive father.

The Moon Lives (In The Lining of Your Skin) by Quixoticity

(28/30 I 131,436 I Explicit)

Stiles is doing fine. Okay, so he didn't expect to be a single father to an infant daughter at the tender age of twenty-three, but it's working out great. And no, he didn't expect to be a curator in Beacon Hills Museum, where weird things happen with no explanation, but he's rolling with it. And he seems to have acquired a new brother now that his dad's gotten engaged, which, odd, but hey, Stiles is flexible, and there's no such thing as too much love, right?

But then the next twist comes in the form of mysterious new neighbour Derek Hale, who is both insanely angry at the world (it's possible he's murdered people with his eyebrows alone), and adorably good with children. He's also in possession of a truly excellent butt.

Stiles is doomed.

Past, Present, and Future by Code_Zackary

(24/60 I 182,513 I Mature)

Deputy Derek Hale has just become a single parent, after adopting abandoned five-year-old Isaac Lahey, and drowning in his new responsibilities as a father, and Alpha. Add the babysitting of his new rookie partner, Jackson Whittemore, and the weight of his past bubbling to the surface, Derek isn't sure how he's going to keep his head straight.

Meanwhile, Stiles Stilinksi returns home to Beacon Hills to give his son, Scott Stilinksi, a better quality of life. However, raising a werewolf pup, as a human, is something he struggles handling on a daily basis. Stiles wishes nothing more than to find a werewolf willing to show his son "the ropes", so Scott can fit in with all the other pups come the first day of Kindergarten. But where would he ever find a werewolf willing to help a human?

When the two meet, their struggles in life will come to the forefront, as the loners become an invaluable support system for each other, and build a unique Pack all their own.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #anon #kid fic

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

Note

Okay so potential fic idea? You’re PG’s best friend and she sets you up on a blind date with Derek 🥺

Dinner And A Drink

Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: first date awkwardness, alcohol mentions and consumption

Category: fluff

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: the convos are kinda dull cause first date awkwardness and ishi, I'm so sorry I took so long to write this omg

----

“I promise he’s a nice guy!” Penelope gave your shoulder a little nudge,

“I told you I'm not ready Penny” you ignored her pleas.

Penelope had been your best friend since you moved to Virginia for university, you worked in a little coffee shop right by her apartment building. She’d stop in every morning, or whenever she got called into work, for a coffee. She wasn’t overly picky at first but as you got to know her, more of her bubbly personality came out as well. Penelope was only a few years older than you, but it wasn’t a major difference.

She was currently trying to get you to go on a date with one of her coworkers. It had been a few months since you broke up with your ex boyfriend and she thought it was time for you to get back out there.

“I just don’t want to set myself up for disappointment again pens” you wiped off the counter. She twirled her spoon in her cup, the shop was empty and it was only the two of you in there.

“I promise he won’t be a disappointment, just this once. He’s the sweetest guy I've ever met”

“Do you have a pic-”

“A picture ? I do but I'm not going to show you” She smiled at you.

You looked at her wide-eyed and brows furrowed, “what do you mean you’re not going to show me?” you asked her. “That’s the purpose of a blind date” she replied.

“Okay fine” you sighed, “let me ask you a few questions before I officially decide”

She took a sip of her coffee, waiting for you to question her. “What’s his name ?”

“Derek”

“How old is he ?”

“That’s for you to find out”

“What does he like ?”

“You can ask him that on your date”

“Are you going to keep telling me to ask him my questions ?”

“Yup”

You sighed, “fine, just this once” Penelope smiled and pulled out her phone. “Oh good we still have time, let’s go” she grabbed her coat and your hand before pulling you towards the door.

“Time for what ?”

“To get you ready for your date sugar plum”

“Tonight ?! Penelope I have to find something to wear, I gotta do my hair, I need-”

“You're coming to my place. Let me worry about the outfit, you do your hair”

The love you had for Penelope was unmatched, hence why you’re getting ready for a date with only a 2 hour notice. She made a phone call to who you could only assume was Derek on your way back to her apartment.

The 2 hours went by rather slow. Penelope worked her magic on you, she fixed your hair, picked out your outfit and even gave you a little pep talk to calm your nerves.

Penelope drove you to the restaurant, she told the bare minimum about Derek on the way there so you weren't at a total loss and so you didn’t have time to pick apart the information she provided you with.

“Okay honey bun, just tell the girl at the door you’re here for Morgan, she’ll take you to the table”

You sat in the car for a moment, looking out the window at the restaurant. Penelope gave your hand a squeeze. “If you want to leave, just tell him. He’ll understand” she kissed your cheek leaving a little red kiss mark on your face. You got out of the car and before you could say goodbye to her, she had driven off.

No turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, you brushed off the wrinkles from your shirt and headed into the restaurant. “Hi, uh I'm meeting someone here” you told the girl, she could see you were nervous. “First date ?” she asked, you nodded.

“What’s the name ?”

“Morgan”

She led you back outside to the patio. The man had his back to you, you could already tell that he was attractive, even with the lack of hair (which Penelope seemed to leave out of her information but it didn’t matter)

“Derek ?” you asked, walking to the other side of the table so he would be able to see you. “That's me, I'm guessing you’re y/n ?” “That would be me” you smiled at him. He stood up and stretched his arms out towards you, you stepped forward and felt his arms wrap around you.

Holy shit, he gives good hugs

You sat across from him, Derek had broad shoulders and a nice smile. Penelope had good taste in men and she knew your type to a T. “Did she ambush you with this date too ?” you asked, just wanted to get past that awkward first date phase of the conversation and Derek laughed. “Not exactly. To tell you the truth, I had seen a picture of you on babygirl’s desk and I was mesmerized” he chuckled, “she then explained that you were single and she would ask you if you were up to go for dinner or maybe drinks, nothing too over the top” he handed you a glass of wine.

“Oh that’s- wait, did you say baby girl ?”

“yeah, sorry shouldn't really call someone else baby girl while I’m on a date huh?” he chuckled.

God, even his laugh was attractive

“Oh no, that’s alright but Penelope said only one person calls her that and that’s her ‘chocolate thunder’”

“That would be me”

“You’re telling me she sent me on a date with her chocolate thunder?”

“She would tell you that it’s a ‘blood in the nostrils’ type thing so I wouldn't stress it”

Well this was off to a strange start

“What do you do ?” Derek looked over at you while you told him.

“I’m in the arts project at Columbia University”

“Isn’t that in New York ?”

“Yeah, it is but I'm finishing up my last co-op program here at the art museum”

“That’s really cool, so you paint and draw or like what’s your specialty?”

“I don’t really have one but I do draw and paint. Art curator is the dream job, if not then jewellery designer is the next one”

“I’m sure that’s more fascinating then my job”

“You’re a fricking F.B.I agent, I don't think there’s anything cooler than that”

Derek laughed at your enthusiasm for his job. “You think so ?”

“Oh totally” you smiled as you took a sip of wine.

Dinner was nice, the two of you talked about Derek’s job and your plans for after you finished university. “Are you thinking of staying here or moving back to New York ?” “well, nothing’s set yet but I'd stay if I had something keeping me here ya know?”

“Dessert ?”

“Oh, no thank you, unless you want something” you told him.

“How about a drink then ?” he asked

“Sounds like a plan” you smiled at him

You could feel your phone buzzing against your leg continuously. “Excuse me for a minute, I'm just gonna run to the bathroom” “take your time” Derek smiled at you.

When you got into the bathroom, you checked your phone. It was Penelope texting you to check how your date was going.

From Penny: sorry for zooming off like that haha, I didn’t want you to change your mind :)

From Penny: sooo how’s it going ?

From Penny: do you like him ?

From Penny: god I hope he’s not being rude to you

From Penny: i’m sure he isn't

From Penny: he’s an angel on earth I promise

From Penny: okay don't answer me then :(

From Penny: I'm going to have a serious talk with Derek when I see him

From Penny: he’s stealing you from me right now

From Penny: I NEED DETAILS!!!

From Penny: NOW!!!!

You decided to text her back before she shows up to see if everything is okay.

To Penny: It's okay, it's good you left or I would have changed my mind. he’s not being rude, he's been very sweet actually. He’s super funny and I like him so far. We’re going to get a drink now, I'll text you after.

From Penny: oh good I'm glad to hear that! :))

To Penny: Satisfied now ?

From Penny: yes I am, have fun now

You chuckled before slipping your phone back into your pocket and heading back to the table. “All set ?” Derek asked as he stood up. “Yeah, what about the bill?” you went to get your card from your pocket when Derek grabbed your hand.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I got it already”

“Oh, thank you”

“No worries”

His hand rested on your lower back as the two of you walked out. “Where too ?” he asked

“There's a place down the street or if you want to go somewhere else ?” you suggested

“Anything’s good with me”

“My place then ? if you don't mind of course. I have a bottle of whiskey that’s just begging to be opened” you chuckled.

He smiled, “sounds good”

The restaurant wasn’t far from your apartment so you walked back. It wasn’t cold outside but it wasn't warm either. It was a normal autumn night, there was a warm breeze. You hadn’t remembered if you had tidied up or not and you invited him over to your place.

Good job y/n

You pushed open the door and braced yourself for a mess only to be met with a clean apartment. You let out a sigh of relief before stepping inside, Derek following you inside.

“Make yourself comfortable” you slipped off your shoes before heading to the kitchen. Derek mirrored your actions, he took off his shoes and followed your steps to the kitchen.

“Wow” Derek stood by your kitchen window, “how’d you end up with such a nice view ?” your apartment overlooked downtown and it was always beautiful when the sun was setting.

“Honestly, I just got lucky” You pulled the bottle out of your cupboard.

It was one of the bottles with the cork tops that you pull off but you couldn’t seem to get it off. A grunt and a ‘ow’ from you caught Derek’s attention, he turned around to see you rubbing your palm and the bottle was on the counter beside you.

“Can I ?”

“Be my guest”

Derek grabbed the bottle and you turned away from him to get glasses. A loud pop caused you to turn, Derek stood there with the opened bottle in his hand.

“Are you kidding me ?” you groaned making him chuckle.

“You know, I almost had it, your muscles just helped” you told him before resting the glasses on the counter.

“I’m sure you did sugar” he poured some into each glass.

Derek picked a glass up and you picked up the other. “To new friends and new beginnings” he said, you clink your glass against his before taking a sip.

“Can I tell you something ?”

“Of course”

“I wasn't even going to come tonight”

“How come ? If you don't mind me asking”

“I just didn’t want to set myself up again, what if it didn't work ? what if I didn’t know what to say or do when I saw you, ya know ? but it wasn't like that. You made me feel comfortable and safe” you admitted to him, Derek smiled.

“I’m glad I did. I really liked getting to know you y/n”

“And I you, Derek”

Derek's arm rested on your shoulder, your hand coming up to meet his, your fingers interlocking.

“Maybe we can do this again?” you asked him quietly

“I’d like that” Derek pressed a small kiss to your temple.

Taglist: @haleymalaffey @aaronhotchnerr @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @ssa-holmes @katexrichardson @sluttytears @thelukealvez

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savcdbythebell · 3 years ago

Text

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but [DEREK BELL], a [THIRTY-SEVEN] year-old [CIS MALE] has lived in [MANHATTAN] for [SEVENTEEN YEARS]. This is the city of dreams and [HE/HIM/HIS] knows it, because they came to NYC to be a/an [ART CURATOR]. Well, that and as a [BABY DADDY] to [SHANE KENDRICK]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [JESSE LEE SOFFER]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

triggers: death.

BASICS

FULL LEGAL NAME: Derek Archie Bell

AGE: 37

DATE OF BIRTH: August 29th

NATIONALITY: American

LANGUAGES: English, French, Italian

SEX: MALE

GENDER: Cis man

PRONOUNS: He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual

BIRTH ORDER: Middle child

HOMETOWN: Brunswick, Maine

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Manhattan, New York

RELIGION: Atheist EDUCATION: NYU

OCCUPATION: Art Curator

MARITAL STATUS: Single

FAMILY:

RELATIONSHIPS: Single

PETS: None.

.ABOUT DEREK BELL.

Derek grew up under two successful attorneys and between two golden boys. Every person in his family had their shit so together that it gave him some leeway to be a slacker. His parents didn't care that he was a stoner at fifteen; it was a phase. And they were too busy with his two brothers being football prodigies. Although he would eventually say otherwise to their faces in his twenties, he did not mind the lack of attention. He reveled in it. He had his own life outside of his family and, what he lacked in academic accomplishments, he made up for in teenage drama. He was involved in at least two love triangles, threw and received multiple punches, and had a kiss in the rain. On paper, his teen years were empty but, he made more memories than he ever could chasing As.

He took a gap year after high school to backpack through Europe, the type of thing that one can do when they have wealthy parents. It was during that time that he discovered a love for art. Art moved him in a way no ex-boyfriend ever did. He visited multiple museums and, for the first time in his life, looked forward to college. He finally knew what he wanted to do with his life.

College was a lot tamer for Derek. Parties and boys lost their appeal when he cared about his grades. His social circle consisted mostly of people he shared classes with. He dated a frat boy here and there, but his heart was never in it. He was too busy discovering his true self to allow himself to explore a relationship. It was while he was figuring himself out that he slept with a woman. He was grateful for the experience because he got a good friend out of it, but it confirmed his suspicions that he was a hundred-percent gay.

He went to Europe again after he graduated college. Art touched him even more now that he could tell the meaning behind every piece, now that he knew their cultural impact. It was during his time in London that he met the man who would become his fiancé.

Their love burned bright, but the flame burned out quickly. They were engaged by their six-month anniversary, and they could not stand each other by their seventh. They were on their way home from a dinner party gone wrong, in the middle of an argument, when Derek crashed his car. His fiancé died on impact, and he was in a wheelchair for six months.

Derek moved back to Maine after the death of his fiancé. He stayed with his parents until he was fully recovered, and then returned to New York City where he put his Art History degree to good use and became a curator.

#ENYC.INTRO

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Two Points Higher | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 5380

A/N: I started binging Criminal Minds last week and I’m already on season 5... Spencer Reid is precious and my asexual heart needed some platonic fluff so I wrote it myself.

Warnings: fluff, interrogation, mentions of murder

Having Spencer Reid show up at your office was not an unusual occurrence. Having Spencer Reid show up at your office in the middle of the night with another FBI agent on his heels was.

“See I told you they’d be here,” Spencer almost tripped over a box of records by the door with the speed of which he burst in.

“I get it, I’m married to my job,” you rolled your eyes, not looking up from your computer, “what’s up?”

“(y/n), this is Agent Derek Morgan,” he gestured to the man behind him as he spoke. Spencer pulled up his usual chair in front of your desk and started rummaging in his bag.

“If you can find a seat you’re welcome to take it,” you smiled at Morgan, who was watching Spencer intently.

“We need your help,” Spencer pulled out a stack of photos.

“Spence, I have work to do,” you chided, though you pushed aside what you were working on to take the photos from him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Please?”

“You’re not really asking,” Agent Morgan finally cracked a smile at your comment, “I don’t see how I can help you though, these are neat crime scene photos but I’m not in the FBI.” As you observed the images Spencer stood up again, haphazardly pulling books off of your shelves and piling them on his now vacant seat.

“You missed it. Look again,” you scanned the images again, scrutinizing every detail. This time you noticed it, pulling each image closer to your face to really take in what you were seeing.

“Those are my labels. Why are my labels on human bodies?” Spencer pulled one last book off the shelf and started thumbing through it.

His voice was soft this time, as his eyes met yours, “we don’t know.”

You didn’t normally see Spencer when he was working a case like this, something about him seemed different.

“How can I help?”

“The rest of the team is on the way. Have you talked to anyone about your collections recently? Told them how you label and research?”

“The only one I’ve talked to about it is you, but it’s not exactly an industry secret. Anyone who has looked at the exhibits has seen my labels, people just don’t usually care about them.”

Spencer and Morgan exchanged a look, then Morgan stepped out to make a phone call while Spencer filled you in on the next course of action. The rest of the team would be using your office as a field station while they tried to figure out why the unsub would make exact copies of your labels.

“Have you known Reid long?” A blonde woman who Spencer introduced as JJ asked.

“Since preschool,” you recalled.

“(y/n) was the only other kid in class who could read,” Spencer commented from the adjoining collections room where he was poking around for signs of entry.

“Spencer was the only other kid in class who could remember dinosaur names, we made quite the pair until he graduated.”

“You only graduated two years after me.”

“Enough to get you ahead by two doctorates and a bachelors,” you shot back.

“What’s in the water over in Vegas?” Morgan commented, shooting Spencer a look when he started rattling off the exact contents of the water and how it definitely did not affect the development of your brains.

It was already the early hours of the morning, so it was decided that any investigating would wait until a more reasonable hour. The team mostly acquainted themselves with your space, finding places to work, sleep, or follow up on leads. Even Spencer was moving around, restlessly conversing with his colleagues. You kept to yourself at your desk, busying yourself with the bone you were looking at. The research was comfortable, though the background noise wasn’t.

“You should get some sleep,” Spencer said quietly to you after a few hours, leaning over your shoulder to observe the notes you were making. It felt oddly normal, considering the circumstances.

“I’m on to something here, I want to finish this first,” you turned to the next page in your notebook.

“I’m going to go nap in the other room then, wake me up if you need anything, ok?” you looked up at him with a soft smile and nodded. He went into the break room across the hall, laying down on the old couch. You watched after him for a minute then turned back to your work. A few minutes later, JJ sat down in front of your desk.

“Do you spend a lot of time together?”

“If he’s not working with you, he’s with me. I’m almost always here which is why he knows where all of the good sleeping spots are,” you smirked.

“What are you working on?”

“We don’t have any records on this bone, so I do the research and get as much information as I can about it. My official title is ‘Collections Curator’ but Spencer says I’m just as much a profiler as he is.”

“Have you ever thought about joining the Bureau?”

“Spence tried to convince me… once,” you chuckled lightly at the memory, “I like my job, it’s a lot lower stakes than what you do. I don’t need a gun, just some research material and my brain.”

“It does seem… still down here,” JJ observed.

“Our collections are stored down here so it’s all climate controlled. These rooms were free so I asked if I could trade my upstairs office for a collections research suite. Did you know that 80% of a museum’s collection isn’t displayed? The exhibits you see upstairs are only 20% of the entire collection,” you stopped talking when you noticed a change in her expression, “sorry, I’m rambling.”

JJ smiled kindly, “I can see why you’re friends with Reid.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without him growing up. It’s easier to be a kid genius when there’s another kid to be a genius with, makes you feel less alone. He’s always been more competitive though, tougher, too.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re also a genius?”

“I try not to flaunt it, unlike Spencer. If it wasn’t for his eidetic memory we’d have the same number of degrees,” you smirked.

“He’s different with you,” Morgan had stepped into the room and was poking through your stuffed shelves.

“Like I said, it’s easier to be a genius when you have someone else who gets it. Spencer and I don’t talk about what you do in the field, but I see what he looks like when he comes back from traveling. I do my best to make this a space where he can be a genius without all the crime and someone that he can just be himself with.”

“Having a support system is good. He needs one.”

“You said he’s different with me, but he’s also different with you. His behavior is consistent with when he was trying to plan a surprise for my birthday last year, except its a stressful secret not an exciting one.”

“I need to hear the birthday story later, when this is all over. You’re good at noticing details,” Morgan commented. You noticed the way both Morgan and JJ shifted nervously.

“I have to be, that’s how I do my research. One detail can open up a whole string of possibilities, but you all know that. At first I thought it just had to do with him being in the middle of a case, I’ve only seen him a handful of times when he’s working.”

“But?” Morgan’s question was leading, they knew you knew they were hiding something.

“This is the first time he’s ever come into my office wearing his gun.”

There was a pause during which you noticed both agents’ eyes soften.

“I’m no FBI agent, but if dead bodies were showing up with museum labels specific to one curator I would start by questioning the curator. None of you have acted like I’m guilty at all. Why?”

“Reid gave us your alibi and confirmed it all in one breath. The local police still want to bring you in, but they’re having trouble finding you. Reid knew where you were and wanted to get ahead of them, solve this before you were falsely accused.”

“They probably ended up at my apartment. I spend most of my time here, but I keep that lease for storage and other things. Not many people know I practically live here. Do either of you want coffee?” you took off the latex gloves you were wearing as you stood up. They shook their heads with a murmured ‘thanks’.

They started whispering behind you as you walked across the hall to the room where your best friend was spread out on the couch. You paused as you passed him, gently brushing a piece of hair from his face before continuing on to the kitchenette. Leaning against the counter, your gaze fell once again on Spencer as you waited for the coffee to brew. He slowly stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before standing up and joining you by the counter.

“You’re still working?”

“Have to make progress on my own projects while we’re waiting, before your case consumes my workday,” you bumped your elbow into him.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Hey, someone is using my specimen labels for murder victims. That’s not ok, my labels should be for museum collections only. I appreciate you telling me. I don’t appreciate whatever secret you and your team are keeping from me.”

“It’s characteristic for unsubs like this to have a fantasy… an unhealthy idolization that’s expressed in the victimology,” he stuck his hands in his pockets nervously. You thought for a minute as you poured a cup of coffee for yourself and your best friend.

“You think the unsub fantasizes about me.”

“We don’t know for certain. Two of the victims seem random, but three of them have an uncanny resemblance… and the labels…”

“Is that why you came to my office instead of just calling me for more information?” you leaned into his side, gripping your coffee.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. You live your life and I live mine,” you took a sip of your drink.

“You only leave this basement to buy groceries and do laundry. Statistically you’re only seen by a small fraction of people in this city and somehow you’ve been targeted by someone who’s now going around killing people.”

“Statistically, the unsub could have seen anyone who lives in this city, including me. It’s not your fault,” you repeated, “you could have told me though, genius.”

Spencer cracked a tired smile, “didn’t want to scare you more than necessary.”

“You’re a better person than me.”

“You’re smarter than me,” he retorted.

“That’s why you’re a better person. That’s how you can do the job that you do. If I had to interact with strangers every day I’d implode.”

“Spontaneous implosion isn’t possible,” you rolled your eyes at his comment. Before you could respond he spoke again, “I love you.”

His words caught you off guard, not because you didn’t return the feeling but because they never needed to be said. You knew from the way his eyes lit up when he read your notes and how he always made you another coffee when he got one for himself. You had spent practically your whole lives together and you genuinely cared about him in a way you knew was reciprocated. You considered this boy family more than most of your blood relatives. Still, with everything going on it had to be said.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

You stood with his arms around you until the coffee in your hands went cold.

“I need to make sure your friend Derek isn’t messing up my office. Sorry I woke you up,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping away. When you made it to the hallway you started walking down towards the largest collection room instead of your office.

“Agent Hotchner? Do you have a minute?” You knocked on the doorframe of the large room that the agent had set up in.

“Of course, is everything ok?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Spencer. I know he’s supposed to be protecting me, but he’s also my best friend. He would put himself in danger- he’s expecting to put himself in danger for me. With all due respect, sir, I know you’re trying to do a job but please promise me that you’ll keep Spencer safe too.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” he said as you sat down in front of him.

“I don’t usually get myself into situations this stressful. My brain is rationalizing by flagging you as an authority figure. I know you’re not my boss but it’s easing my anxiety to think of you as one.”

Hotch looked at you calmly, a small smile on his lips, “I should have known Reid’s best friend would also be a genius.”

“My IQ is two points higher than his…sir,” it felt odd, joking with this man during such a stressful time.

“Reid is family to us too. We won’t let anything happen to him.”

“Spencer said that the unsub had a fantasy about me, and that’s why he was using my labels,” since your conversation with Spencer, your brain had been reeling for information.

“He asked that we didn’t tell you,” you sighed at his words.

“Of course he did. Now that I know, what information do you need? How can I be more helpful?”

“Reid asked you some questions when he got here,” you nodded, “if you’re up for it, I’d like to get the team together and ask you for more details.”

“Anything that helps,” your answer was definite, so Hotch rounded up the team with the exception of Spencer.

“Shouldn’t Reid be here?” Emily asked when you were all crammed into your office.

“I don’t want him… interfering. I don’t like biased research,” you told her.

“Then I guess we’ll get started. How exactly do you create the labels for your specimens?” Derek started the questioning.

“They’re printed on a specific cardstock that I get on special order. They’re all made down here, by me. I’m also the only one who handles the specimens, I don’t even let Spencer touch them.”

“Are there any other employees that work down here? Custodians, other curators?”

“What are you doing?” Your answer was interrupted by Spencer standing in the doorway holding two cups of coffee, in your respective favorite mugs.

“We’re doing research,” you spoke before any of your friend’s colleagues could.

“This looks like an interrogation,” Spencer came to stand behind you protectively, setting both cups down in front of you.

“I asked for this meeting, Spence. I want to help.”

“You should have told me,” he leaned closer to your ear, talking quietly so the rest of the team couldn’t hear. You didn’t usually see your friend this upset.

“Nobody comes down here regularly except for Spencer and I. It’s not open to the public, so anyone else needs a personal invite. Usually that’s when we’re changing exhibits, but everyone who helped me most recently has done it before. If it was one of them they would have killed before the first victim, right?” Derek nodded.

“Nobody else has been here in the last two months?” he repeated. You laughed half heartedly,

“I don’t have much of a social life. The only people I talk to are Spencer, the cashier at the grocery store, and Tim if I see him,” you added the last one as an afterthought.

“Tim?” Spencer stopped fuming by your side when your words piqued his interest.

“He teaches a museum history class at the community college in the city. They come by once a semester and tour the museum. You met him, remember?” Spencer averted his eyes from his team.

“I wouldn’t count that as a meeting,” you fought back a smile, recounting the way Spencer ran past the group of college kids as he tried not to let his severe hangover make him late for work.

“Tell me more about Tim, are you close?” Rossi refocused the meeting.

“No, just friendly. We email to schedule the tour, but it’s always professional. I see him at the grocery store most weeks, but it’s usually just an exchange of pleasantries.”

“How do you run into someone at the grocery store most weeks in a city like this?” Emily asked.

“I always go grocery shopping on Friday afternoons, from three to four. Spencer tells me I shouldn’t be so predictable but I work so much I have to schedule it in otherwise I forget. Tim must have the same schedule.”

“Have you seen Tim recently?”

“Now that I think about it, no. The last time I saw him was two weeks after the tour. He asked if I had dinner plans. That was the night we had tacos,” you bumped elbows with Spencer.

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I was making dinner for Spencer. You were all coming back from a trip, Spencer always comes over for dinner when you come home. I know I’m predictable but he’s never missed a dinner.”

“What was his reaction like when he heard you were making dinner for Reid?”

“He looked a little upset. I remember noticing it and thinking it was weird, but at the time I rationalized it. I’m not great at interacting with people. You don’t think Tim did this, do you? He’s really nice, always good with the kids. He asks a lot of questions because the kids don’t- oh God,” your eyes widened when you realized what you were saying. The office exploded in activity, with every agent moving to take action. Even Spencer moved, grabbing your arm and pulling you back across the hall into the break room. You noticed the way his hand was nervously on his gun.

“What happens next?”

“We don’t know for sure that it’s him yet. Garcia will cross check him against the profile. If it’s him, we’ll find him and lock him up. If it’s not… then we’re back to square one.”

“You seem more on edge than for it to be that simple,” you observed.

“Up until the most recent tour, Tim was able to admire you from afar. He saw you every week at the grocery store, and twice a year got to come down here to your personal paradise and see what you were doing. That was good enough for him until he saw me leaving here. That was the stressor. He suspected that we were… uh…”

“Dating?”

“Yeah. He tried to confirm it by asking about dinner two weeks later. It was coincidence that I was coming over that night. That was all he needed to kill out of rage.”

“You aren’t still blaming yourself for this, are you? Tim never asked if we were together. He never asked if I was with anyone at all. If he had this could have gone a lot differently. It’s his fault for assuming, not ours.”

Spencer put a hand on your back gently, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be reassuring you.”

As you rolled your eyes and told him it didn’t matter, Morgan stepped into the room.

“We’re heading out to catch this guy. Prentiss and JJ are staying, Garcia is watching the security cameras at all the entrances. Are you staying or going?” Morgan’s question was directed at Spencer. He thought for a minute, you knew he was considering the possibilities. If he stayed he could protect you personally, and he would also be protecting himself. If he went, he could personally take down the person who wanted to harm you and could be a good lure, but there was also a chance he would be targeted.

“I’ll stay. Keep me posted,” Morgan nodded, casting you a glance before running out.

“Now we wait,” Spencer rocked back on his heels, “will you show me that bone you were working on?” You were surprised he wanted to go back to business as usual, but maybe that was just it. You both needed a distraction from all of the chaos happening above ground without you. You went back to your office where Emily and JJ were. Their conversation paused when you stepped in.

“(y/n) and I are going to work on identifying this bone, there’s coffee across the hall if you want it,” Spencer said to the women.

“Thanks for staying,” you added, earning kind sympathetic looks from them as they stepped out.

“So, a long bone?” Spencer took one look at the fragment on your desk.

“Wow, he’s a genius,” you teased, sitting down, “here’s what I’ve got so far-”

You and Spencer spent hours researching. JJ and Emily popped in occasionally, but you were too engrossed in your work to see the amused glances exchanged between them as you bantered with your best friend. Spencer was trying really hard to keep things normal for you and this side of his genius, the way you fed off of each other’s stream of consciousness, was not something his coworkers usually got to witness.

Two hours into your work Spencer’s phone rang, causing you both to startle.

“Hotch,” he was quiet as he listened to the agent on the other end of the line, “yeah, uh, yeah we’ll be right there,” he hung up and turned to you.

“They got him, but there was no real proof. They’re interrogating him now, they want us there to help.”

“Us?” you followed him out of the office as he went to find Emily and JJ.

“He’s not talking, Hotch thinks he might break for me…”

“Or me…” you finished the thought for him. The car ride was tense, and even with Spencer by your side you felt very out of place. Spencer made sure you were next to him even through the whirlwind that happened when you got to the interrogation room. Through the glass you saw Morgan talking to Tim, though Tim wasn’t doing much talking.

“(y/n), would you feel comfortable going in and talking to him? Morgan will be there too, he’ll keep you safe,” Rossi asked.

Before Spencer could protest you nodded and squared your shoulders.

“Of course. What do I need to do?”

“Morgan will do most of the questioning. You just need to get him talking.”

You took a breath and stepped into the room, watching the relief on Tim’s face when you did.

“(y/n), I’m so glad you’re here. This is all just a misunderstanding. I’m not the guy they’re looking for.”

“It’s not up to me to decide that, Tim.”

“You’re here to tell them it wasn’t me, right?”

“They’ve already told us everything we need to know. You’re still talking to me,” Morgan said, pulling Tim’s attention away from you.

“Then why are they here? I see the way you all carry those guns around, it’s too dangerous,” Tim said.

“Too dangerous for who?” Morgan pressed.

“For (y/n).”

“So you care about them, are you close?” you watched Tim’s reaction.

“Very, you can ask me anything about them, I know it all,” he was confident in his answer. Morgan glanced at you and you gave him a small nod.

“What does (y/n) do for work?”

“They’re the Collections Curator at the museum. They spend all of their time there, except on Fridays when they go grocery shopping,” Tim was enthusiastic in his answer, and looked to you for validation. You nodded gently, encouraging him.

“How do you know that?” Morgan leaned forward a bit.

“My class has been touring the collections suite for years. That’s how we met, then I ran into them at the grocery store and we got to talking,” Morgan nodded, pausing for a moment.

“I guess you are close. Since you know so much, this will probably be an easy one. What is (y/n)’s boyfriend’s name?” you tensed, waiting for the answer.

“Spencer. He’s tall, I’ve only seen him once,” he grumbled.

“(y/n), you can tell him,” Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the handcuffed man in front of you.

“Tim, I don’t have a boyfriend,” your words were soft. Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“You do! I saw him, that’s why we can’t be together!” he started to sweat under the harsh light.

“He’s just my friend, Tim. You never asked,” you were trying your hardest to stay composed.

“I did ask! You said you were having dinner together! He was good enough for you to have dinner with, I KILLED FOR YOU. DIDN’T YOU SEE, I LABELED THEM JUST LIKE YOU DO. I DID THAT FOR YOU. HE WOULD NEVER,” Tim’s outburst caused him to stand up and lunge across the table at you. Derek simultaneously pushed you back and pushed him down, you weren’t really sure how. Tim was still thrashing around and yelling all sorts of things you were sure were going to incarcerate him, but above the noise Morgan was able to speak.

“That’s all we need. Thank you, (y/n).”

When you stepped out of the interrogation room you moved immediately into Spencer’s arms, like gravity was pulling you into the one person you felt safest with.

“You’re ok. It’s ok. We’re ok,” he kept repeating.

“Spencer,” you mumbled into the material of his sweater. His words stopped so he could listen, “he seemed so normal.”

“I know, I know.”

“Do they always seem normal?” Spencer sighed, you felt his chest move with the breath.

“No, not always.” You felt his muscles tense as he held you tighter. He went back to repeating his mantra of reassurance as you caught sight of two police officers escorting Tim out of the interrogation room.

“Reid, Hotch wants to see you,” Emily approached the two of you once the room had cleared.

“Go, I’m alright,” you told him, stepping out of his embrace. He kissed the top of your head before leaving you alone with Emily.

“You did a great job in there,” she said as you walked back to the bullpen.

“It didn’t feel like it,” you told her honestly, “I’ve known Tim for years, he was always so nice to me. He never seemed…capable… but the way he yelled…”

“I know. It’s over now, though. Is there anything we can get for you? Coffee?” you sat down at Spencer’s desk, feeling exhaustion wash over you.

“No, thanks. I think I’m just going to go back to the museum. I have some work there that needs some attention. Do you think Spencer could drive me? I’m not awake enough to take public transportation.”

“I’m driving, but we’re not going to the museum,” Spencer loped over from Hotch’s office, grabbing his jacket and bag from the back of his chair.

“What? Why not?”

“You’re coming back to my apartment. Hotch’s orders, you’re not allowed to argue.”

As much as you wanted to, you decided not to put up a fight and instead got into the Bureau vehicle with your best friend. It was quiet as he drove, you wanted to say something but you didn’t know what the right words would be to describe how thankful you were to have him in your life. The silence continued until you were inside, when Spencer offered you something to eat.

“Are you sure?” he asked from the kitchen when you declined. You were by his bookshelves, running your finger down the spines of the many books he owned. Even though most of the time you spent with Spencer was in the museum, you had been to his apartment before on multiple occasions. You had never been there long enough to read his large collection of books, though you wished you had the time because you always trusted Spencer’s book recommendations.

“I’m sure. Thanks, though,” you paused to pull a Chaucer book off the shelf, “why did Hotch want me to come home with you?”

“He wanted you somewhere safe and comfortable, where you can process what happened without being completely alone. I know you wanted to go back to the museum but I also know what you’re like when you’re working and going back to work isn’t going to help you process what just happened. I thought coming here would give you a chance to eat and sleep,” he took the book out of your hands and put it back in its place.

“Is it that obvious?” you were having a hard time keeping your eyelids open. Spencer laughed lightly.

“It is, you should get some rest. I’ll be right out here, I have to finish this report,” he gestured to the folder he had brought home. You nodded, padding over to the bedroom. As soon as you crossed the threshold you could feel your distance from Spencer, who was leaning against the counter scratching away at the file with a pen.

“Spencer?” he turned to you quickly, his eyebrows mashing together in concern.

“Is that report kitchen specific, or could you do it in here?” his face softened. He left the file abandoned where it was on the counter as he rushed over to you. He helped you into bed, before sitting at the opposite end and settling by your feet.

“I’m not going anywhere, you’re safe now,” he put a hand on your leg. The pressure was reassuring, to say the least, and you found yourself easily slipping into sleep underneath Spencer’s quilt.

When you woke, Spencer was still at the end of the bed with a book in his hands. His feet, clad in mismatched socks, were crossed by your shoulder. You gently prodded at his foot, causing him to twitch and look up from what he was reading.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, putting the book down beside him. You sat up and stretched out your arms.

“You’re still here,” you smirked.

“It’s my apartment,” his quip was light and gentle.

“You’re right, I should get back to the museum,” you started to get up, but Spencer put a hand on your foot.

“Stay here for a while. You work too much, some time off would be good for you.”

“You work just as much as I do, genius. I’m not going to loiter in your apartment while you’re off fighting crime.”

“Hotch is letting me stay home for a few days. If an urgent case comes up I’ll help remotely, but I’m not leaving you.”

“Spence, you don’t have to-“

“I want to, (y/n). You’re my best friend who just went through a traumatic experience. Your family is 2,431 miles away, but even if they were closer you wouldn’t spend time with them. You said it yourself, I’m the only one you talk to regularly. I’m not going to abandon you now.”

“Haven’t we talked about you profiling me?” Spencer blushed.

“That wasn’t a profile, just information.”

“Sure,” you yawned.

“Go back to sleep, you still have some catching up to do.”

“You’re keeping track?” you asked, though you laid back down to get more comfortable.

“It’s simple subtraction, (y/n). I don’t need a PhD in mathematics to know you have slept far less than is healthy for the last three days,” he picked up the book again, finding the place where he left off.

“What are you reading?” his eyes flickered up to meet yours again.

“Dickens, Great Expectations.”

“You’ve read that one before,” you commented, surprised he didn’t have more to say on the subject.

“I have. I thought you might like it, I was just passing the time while you were sleeping. I can read it to you, if you want. It always made me feel better when my mom read to me.”

“I’d really like that,” you settled deeper into the pillow, listening to your friend’s voice as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time since Spencer had burst into your office, you finally felt content.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #platonic imagine #platonic fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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simp-for-spencer-reid · 4 years ago

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Sugar with a Side of Coffee- Ch. 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids

Chapter 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids A/N: I’m sorry in advance Masterlist

Cate awoke the next day with a headache from drinking so much wine. Her alarm was chiming through her phone and it felt like the sound bounced between her ears. Pressing her palm into her forehead to create a pressure that wasn’t her headache, she let out a large sigh as she sat up in bed. It was her mistake to keep drinking with Spencer’s friends when she knew she had to work the next day. Even though she was paying for it today, she had a really fun night at Rossi’s.

Spencer had driven Cate back to her house last night. Instead of the usual comfortable silence, Cate was blabbering the whole ride in Spencer’s car. Not only was she the chattiest Spencer had ever seen, she was also the touchiest. Not always touching him, but fiddling with the radio, opening all the compartments to see what was inside. A wine-drunk Cate was brazen and not nearly as quiet as she normally was.

“Want to know my favorite flower?” Cate said out loud to Spencer, while rummaging through the pockets of his suit jacket that she was still wearing. Spencer glanced over to her.

“Of course.” He smiled at her. Every few seconds, a street light would shine an orange glow in the car, and Spencer swore this was the most beautiful he had ever seen her.

“It’s Asters. I like all colors but pink would be my favorite I think.” Cate started to take off her shoes in his car. She was struggling with the small buckle on the heel. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.” She sat back up, defeated by the small metal buckle. There was a silence as she thought of what to ask him. “What’s your middle name?” She decided. He had just pulled into her parking lot.

“Walter.” He quickly said, before getting out and walking around to open her door.

“Spencer Walter Reid.” Cate tried his full name out. She took Spencer’s outstretched hand and stepped out of his vehicle. She eyed him up, repeating his full name again. “Yeah, that seems about right.” She interlaced their fingers.

Spencer thought that the elevator would be their best option to get Cate safely to her floor. She dug in her clutch for her keys and passed them to Spencer to put into the lock. The two walked into Cate’s apartment just as Shrimp was walking past the hallway with one of the little toys Spencer had gotten him. Cate sat on the bench in her foyer and extended a leg to Spencer.

“Please help.” Cate stuck her bottom lip out. Spencer grabbed her ankle and his nimble fingers just barely struggled with the buckle. He laughed and motioned for her other foot so he could take the other heel off. When Cate stood up, Spencer admired the height difference between them. He could tell Cate was getting tired by the way her bubbling conversation faded. She slid his jacket off, holding it out to him. In the soft light of the hallway, Spencer could see her freckles that peppered the top of her shoulders.

That night was the first time that Spencer had seen her room. It suited her. He pulled back her black and white comforter. Cate laid down, still in her dress, getting settled in. Spencer kissed her forehead and gently took the bobby pins from her hair. He rested another yellow throw blanket over her body. On his way out, he gave Shrimp a scritch and quietly shut the door behind him.

“I feel like we haven’t worked together in forever!” Marta said loudly. Cate walked into The Empty Mug with her sunglasses on. She scrunched her face.

“Why must you be so loud?” Cate closed her eyes, pausing in her step. Marta chuckled.

“Hungover on a weekday? You’re becoming quite the rebel, Catherine.” Marta was putting the last of the chairs down. “It’s getting colder, my parents were thinking of retiring the cart for the season.” Marta informed Cate.

“Aw, I’m gonna miss my cart!” Cate was walking to the back room to put away her things and put on her apron. Like clockwork, soon after Marta flipped the sign on the door from closed to open, Spencer walked in.

“Hey, Sweater Vest, when are we gonna get a visit from Morgan for a change?” Marta joked with him, starting a pot of coffee. Cate came out of the back, her face lighting up when she saw Spencer.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer laughed. He had moved so he was standing in front of her. Cate brought a hand to her temple.

“Oh, you know, dealing with the aftermath of your friends. Remind me not to try and keep up with them again.” Cate laughed. Spencer shifted his weight from heel to toe.

“Would you like to go to the new Italian restaurant on Jefferson street later tonight? Like a proper date?” Spencer looked hopeful. Cate’s smile grew.

“I’d love to.” Cate nodded. She was mentally picking out an outfit already. The end of her shift could not come fast enough. As soon as Spencer mentioned Italian, Cate was thinking of an alfredo dish with bread sticks. Cate felt like she was back in high school, giddy like a schoolgirl for the first real date she’s had in awhile. She supposed she could count the museum date as a date, but she categorized it as friends, since that was all they were at the time. This time, though, their feelings were aired out and on the table and they were exclusive. That’s what made it a real date.

Cate just about ran home, her scarf blowing behind her as she rushed to her apartment. She showered and washed her hair to fix her hat hair. She shaved her legs, even though she planned on wearing tights. After her shower, she walked to her room in a towel, laying out her outfit she had curated all day. A dark green sparkly dress that had long sleeves. It fell above her knee, so she had black tights to cover legs and a black pair of ankle boots with a small heel. She curled her hair for the first time, managing to only burn her fingers twice. She facetimed Marta to show her the outfit and swoon over this date. Seeing the time, she wondered why Spencer hadn’t been to pick her up yet.

She remembered that they hadn’t decided on how they were meeting. Cate figured she’d shoot him a text and let him know she would meet him at the restaurant. Cate’s nose was red and a bit runny from the walk to the restaurant. The restaurant was all lit up with soft yellow lights and it was everything Cate imagined a real date would be.

Cate gave the hostess both her and Spencer’s names. He had made a reservation under his name in advance, despite the full house and the hostess informed Cate she was the first of their party of two to show up. The hostess led the way to a table for two, in a more secluded part of the restaurant that was more dimly lit and the tables in this area all had candles on their white table cloths.

It had been about fifteen minutes before Cate let some negative thoughts cross her mind. She tried calling Spencer, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Cate was on the second basket of breadsticks, pleading with the waiter for a few more minutes. After ten more minutes, Cate had decided to order her meal, not wanting the reservation to go to waste.

She could barely eat. Half of it was boxed up for Cate to eat for lunch the next day. The waiter had come back, telling her there was already a card on file to pay for the meal. Out of pure pettiness, Cate did something she never usually did. She ordered dessert for herself. A chocolate lava cake was brought to the table. The servers were now sneaking peeks at Cate sitting by herself. She pretended not to notice and picked at her chocolate cake that only tasted like spite. Cate finally gave them her own card to pay and left the restaurant with her leftover box.

She hauled a cab to go home, since it was now dark and freezing out. While she was in the backseat, her phone rang. Spencer’s name flashed on the screen. She wanted to answer and give him hell, but she left it for voicemail. She chuckled bitterly to herself thinking of Derek already chewing him out- wherever they were. It’s not like he would tell her what state they were in or where they were headed. Her phone finally stopped ringing, and a new voice message notification showed.

“I am so sorry. I know I promised you a date tonight. What I did was inexcusable. I’m on the jet and I’m an hour and a half out. Can we talk?” Spencer’s voice was rushed with embarrassment. Or was it guilt? After she texted Spencer to meet her at her place the taxi pulled up to her building’s entrance. Cate paid and got out of the car.

She left her box on the counter. She wanted to stay in her outfit so Spencer could see what he missed, but she didn’t want to be too mean. A part of her felt bad for being mean. She knew he had a demanding job and she was lucky to have spent so much of Spencer’s free time with him so far. She knew he was out there, getting the bad guys and making the world a safer place. With a sigh, she changed into sweats and a t-shirt and plopped on the couch with some reality show to fill the silence.

A knock on her door made Cate jump from a sleep. She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes. She could hear Spencer frantically knock again. His voice coming from the other side of the door.

“Cate? If you can hear me, please let me in.” Cate looked through the peephole. He was still in his FBI windbreaker. Still feeling mad at him, she opened the door just enough so he could see one eye. “Oh, thank god. I really am an asshole. I’m so sorry.” He started to say.

“Just tell me you got the guy.” Cate’s face was still hard with anger. She sighed. “Tell me you solved the case and it was good for you guys.” Cate blinked.

“Yeah. Yeah we did. It was tough, but we did it. That’s why I was late.” Spencer’s shoulders slugged.

“You weren’t late. Late implies that you would’ve showed up at all. You didn’t. I sat there by myself for an hour.” Cate spat. She took a deep breath in, fingers tapping the door while she made a decision. Opening the door wider, she let Spencer in. He followed her to her kitchen, where she took out a plate to reheat the leftover meal she had. “You must be hungry.” Cate said. Knowing that there was one less killer loose made Cate feel less angry at Spencer. She took out two forks and the two picked at the alfredo pasta together in silence. As they ate, Cate moved closer to Spencer, slowly pressing into his side. She was glad he was safe and home.

Spencer stayed the night, the two snuggled up in Cate’s bed. Cate’s head rested on Spencer’s chest, his arms wrapped around her. In the morning, he had to get up before her and he gave her a quick kiss before leaving to go back to the bureau for another day.

On another occasion a few weeks later, Spencer had promised Cate to another date at a different restaurant. Like before, Cate had gotten dressed and ready- waiting for Spencer to pick her up as promised. She facetimed Marta as she waited for Spencer to arrive. They discussed some new baked goods to try at the shop for the winter. She hung up the call when her doorbell rang.

She excitedly opened it, but it wasn’t Spencer on the other side. It was Penelope. She looked guilty, and when she saw Cate, she looked at her with pity.

“I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Penelope said. In her hands, were a bouquet of Cate’s favorite flowers: pink Asters. Cate sighed. “I can’t stay for long, I have to get back to my batcave, but I also brought you this.” Penelope handed a pint of chocolate ice cream to Cate. Cate smiled sadly at Penelope and thanked her for stopping by.

Spencer’s poor attempt at trying to mend his mistakes was to invite Cate over for more sleepovers and movie nights. He had even given Cate a key to his place. In the cases where he knew he was staying overnight, Cate would let herself in and water his plants for him. Sometimes she would wrap herself in his housecoat. She loved Spending time with Spencer and she was grateful to have met a wonderful male specimen, but she was growing tired of the kisses in passing and waking up alone in a bed where they had slept together. Cate bitterly thought of how she used to be happily single and how she became a wreck of a woman in love.

It happened one day when she came home from The Empty Mug. Spencer had beaten her to her apartment door. She smiled, excited to see him at a reasonable hour for the first time in a while. In his hands, he held a bouquet made of purple and white flowers.

“What’s the occasion?” Cate questioned with a small laugh. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.” She smiled at him, opening the door for the two of them. Spencer brought the flowers to the island. Cate could tell he was nervous. “What’s up?” now she was growing anxious.

“I know these aren’t your favorite flowers. They’re purple hyacinths and white orchids. They both mean sorry. Well, the orchids mean I’m sorry and the hyacinths are more of a please forgive me.” Spencer spoke with his hands, playing with his fingers.

“Forgive you for what, Spencer?” Cate placed her hands on the countertop of the island. “What are you talking about?” Cate shook her head.

“You deserve more than this. I feel awful when I have to leave for a case. You don’t deserve being stood up or waking up alone. And as bad as I want to be what you deserve and what you need, I can’t quit doing what I love. I wish I could but I can’t.” He stammered out. Cate grew angry at him, the floodgates had opened and everything she felt was coming out.

“You don’t get to tell me what I need! You don’t get to decide how I feel!” Cate started. She had come to terms with how their relationship was and how important Spencer’s job was. He was keeping people safe and Cate knew what she signed up for.

“Stop being so understanding, you’re making this harder than it has to be.” Spencer closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and index finger into them.

“Fine. I won’t say that it kills me not knowing where you go. Or if you're safe. I won’t say that it’s been easy, but I've been here, spencer. and I was planning on being here!” Cate yelled. Her throat burned. She didn’t want it to end like this. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t figure out why Spencer wanted to end this so bad.

After a silent standoff between Cate and Spencer, he curtly nodded and turned out the door. Cate let herself sit on her kitchen floor and Shrimp finally came out now that the screaming match had subsided.

Spencer was off his game at work. The team had spoken amongst each other and had come to the conclusion that Spencer and Cate were no more. That was a lie, Derek had visited the shop to get the details from Marta. Even though things were tense between Spencer and Cate, Derek wasn’t the only one visiting the shop.

“How long are you gonna let him just sit out there?” Marta asked, peering out the window to Spencer, sitting on the bench across the street from the coffee shop. He had been spending all his free time on this bench that faced the coffee shop. He hated how cold he got on the bench. Winter was in full swing now. He hated even more how things ended between himself and Cate. He tried reaching out to her, but Cate wouldn’t answer her phone or her door when he knocked. He knew he royally messed up.

“Until he freezes” Cate replied, not looking up from prepping a coffee order. She tried her best to ignore him. Talking to him or even seeing him would break her. She knew she would let him back in and she would just suffer again.

“Just because it’s cold outside doesn’t mean you have to be cold hearted” Marta told Cate. Marta felt bad for the two of them. And not just because all the scheming her and Derek had gone through to get them together had failed, but because they were good for each other. Marta made Spencer his usual coffee order and walked across the street to the bench.

“She hates me doesn’t she?” Spencer asks. Marta sighed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say hate but maybe strongly dislike” Marta said, trying to lighten the mood.

#sugar with a side of coffee fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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