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fandomweekly2016-02-15 11:57 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2016-02-15 11:57 am
Entry tags:
[#003] you got a face with a view (teen wolf)
Theme Prompt: #003 – Domestic Bliss
Title: you got a face with a view
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 994
Summary: Stiles discovers that for Cora Hale, the definition of home is a bit like the definition of porn. It’s nearly impossible to explain, but she always knows it when she sees it.
Notes: Future AU for my tiny ship that never was.
Stiles and Cora manage to move in with each other without really thinking or talking about it. It’s not Cora’s larger, nicer place that they move into, but Stiles’ tiny matchbook of an apartment that he barely manages to afford on his government salary.
It isn’t that Cora has officially let her place go (probably because Derek pays for it, and if there were any changes he would have questions and Stiles, personally, likes breathing), but more that her stuff is finding purchase in his place. Her clothes are in his closet, her toothbrush, shampoo and soap in his shower, and the food in his fridge has balanced out to something healthier than take out, all the time.
(Cora cooks. Who would have thought?)
In truth, he knows that her choosing his place isn’t that surprising. Cora was a girl who had home torn away from her at a young age and has spent most of her life running. Stiles’ apartment, as tiny as it is, is lived in and messy, with all the personal touches and hallmarks of someone who is settled and ready to stay. For Cora Hale, the definition of home is a bit like the definition of porn. It’s nearly impossible to explain, but she always knows it when she sees it.
(Good to know that FBI profiler training is getting put to good use figuring out the mysteries of his laconic girlfriend. He’s sure that his instructors at Quantico would be proud.)
Regardless, Stiles is not complaining. Especially not when it means he gets to wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, rather than the smell of last week’s mushu pork dying an unfortunate death in the back of his fridge. He stumbles out of bed and follows his nose to the kitchen, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her back against him so he can nuzzle her neck.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she returns softly. “You shouldn’t be awake.”
“You’re cooking. I’m always going to be awake.” She has a point though, considering he only crashed into bed a few hours earlier after working a case all night, but the US Justice system believes that sleep is for the weak. “And I have to go in for a deposition in a couple hours. But hey, it’s Friday, so since the case is closed, maybe they’ll just let me go early and I can pass out until Monday.”
She laughs a bit before he hears the click of the stove shutting off and she pulls away from him. “Then sit so you can eat something before you go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods before going to grab the newspaper off the kitchen table and making his way to the couch. He plops down, kicking up his feet on the coffee table as he starts to flip through the paper. Cora arrives a few minutes later with the plates and hands one off to him in exchange for the funny pages.
“Why do you have a kitchen table if we never use it?”
“Decoration, obviously.” One arm shifts up so that she can settle under it, her back pressed against his side and her head resting against his shoulder. “Besides, it’s much easier to go from eating to making out if we’re sitting on the couch.”
She laughs as she picks at her food. “Clearly your priorities are in order.”
“You never seem to complain,” he teases as he pulls her closer with a squeeze, fingers brushing against her side gently. That seems to be the only cue she needs to settle more, curling up against him like a tiny, warm, space heater that could totally kill him in his sleep if he pissed her off.
There’s a comfortable silence between them as they start eating. “So my lease is up next month.”
There it is. The conversation they probably should have had two months ago about whatever their situation is. Stiles is quiet for a moment, weighing the possible responses in his head before he opts with the obvious. “Is it?”
“Yeah.” She pauses, tapping her finger against her plate so that the last bits of bacon stick to her finger and she can lick them off and he knows that she’s choosing her words carefully. Cora is fiercely independent and doesn’t like to depend on anyone so he lets her take her time, the same hand still rubbing her side gently, as though to say he isn’t going anywhere. “I just … I figured since I spend all my time here, maybe I should just give it up and stay here instead. Most of my stuff is already here too – we wouldn’t have to move much.”
He pauses, considering for a moment, before shrugging. “You sure you want to live here? I could just as easily move into your place.”
“I like it here. My place feels a lot … colder, I guess.” This feels like home is the unsaid statement, and he smiles where she can’t see it, before tipping to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“I will certainly not complain about having a live in personal chef.”
She glances up at him with a wide smile before nodding. “Good. There’s just one catch.”
“What’s that?”
“We have to tell Derek.”
There’s a moment of silence as Stiles’ mouth works around words he’s not saying. “If he murders me, I expect Scott to avenge my death.”
Cora laughs, before shaking her head and resettling the comics against her knees again. “I’m sure the battle will be bloody and glorious.”
“Damn straight it will,” he finishes off his own plate and sets it to the side, before shifting her backwards more so that she’s lying across his lap. “Hey,” he begins, before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you.”
He can feel her smile into the kiss, before she pulls back with a soft sigh. “I love you too.”
Title: you got a face with a view
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 994
Summary: Stiles discovers that for Cora Hale, the definition of home is a bit like the definition of porn. It’s nearly impossible to explain, but she always knows it when she sees it.
Notes: Future AU for my tiny ship that never was.
Stiles and Cora manage to move in with each other without really thinking or talking about it. It’s not Cora’s larger, nicer place that they move into, but Stiles’ tiny matchbook of an apartment that he barely manages to afford on his government salary.
It isn’t that Cora has officially let her place go (probably because Derek pays for it, and if there were any changes he would have questions and Stiles, personally, likes breathing), but more that her stuff is finding purchase in his place. Her clothes are in his closet, her toothbrush, shampoo and soap in his shower, and the food in his fridge has balanced out to something healthier than take out, all the time.
(Cora cooks. Who would have thought?)
In truth, he knows that her choosing his place isn’t that surprising. Cora was a girl who had home torn away from her at a young age and has spent most of her life running. Stiles’ apartment, as tiny as it is, is lived in and messy, with all the personal touches and hallmarks of someone who is settled and ready to stay. For Cora Hale, the definition of home is a bit like the definition of porn. It’s nearly impossible to explain, but she always knows it when she sees it.
(Good to know that FBI profiler training is getting put to good use figuring out the mysteries of his laconic girlfriend. He’s sure that his instructors at Quantico would be proud.)
Regardless, Stiles is not complaining. Especially not when it means he gets to wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, rather than the smell of last week’s mushu pork dying an unfortunate death in the back of his fridge. He stumbles out of bed and follows his nose to the kitchen, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her back against him so he can nuzzle her neck.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she returns softly. “You shouldn’t be awake.”
“You’re cooking. I’m always going to be awake.” She has a point though, considering he only crashed into bed a few hours earlier after working a case all night, but the US Justice system believes that sleep is for the weak. “And I have to go in for a deposition in a couple hours. But hey, it’s Friday, so since the case is closed, maybe they’ll just let me go early and I can pass out until Monday.”
She laughs a bit before he hears the click of the stove shutting off and she pulls away from him. “Then sit so you can eat something before you go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods before going to grab the newspaper off the kitchen table and making his way to the couch. He plops down, kicking up his feet on the coffee table as he starts to flip through the paper. Cora arrives a few minutes later with the plates and hands one off to him in exchange for the funny pages.
“Why do you have a kitchen table if we never use it?”
“Decoration, obviously.” One arm shifts up so that she can settle under it, her back pressed against his side and her head resting against his shoulder. “Besides, it’s much easier to go from eating to making out if we’re sitting on the couch.”
She laughs as she picks at her food. “Clearly your priorities are in order.”
“You never seem to complain,” he teases as he pulls her closer with a squeeze, fingers brushing against her side gently. That seems to be the only cue she needs to settle more, curling up against him like a tiny, warm, space heater that could totally kill him in his sleep if he pissed her off.
There’s a comfortable silence between them as they start eating. “So my lease is up next month.”
There it is. The conversation they probably should have had two months ago about whatever their situation is. Stiles is quiet for a moment, weighing the possible responses in his head before he opts with the obvious. “Is it?”
“Yeah.” She pauses, tapping her finger against her plate so that the last bits of bacon stick to her finger and she can lick them off and he knows that she’s choosing her words carefully. Cora is fiercely independent and doesn’t like to depend on anyone so he lets her take her time, the same hand still rubbing her side gently, as though to say he isn’t going anywhere. “I just … I figured since I spend all my time here, maybe I should just give it up and stay here instead. Most of my stuff is already here too – we wouldn’t have to move much.”
He pauses, considering for a moment, before shrugging. “You sure you want to live here? I could just as easily move into your place.”
“I like it here. My place feels a lot … colder, I guess.” This feels like home is the unsaid statement, and he smiles where she can’t see it, before tipping to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“I will certainly not complain about having a live in personal chef.”
She glances up at him with a wide smile before nodding. “Good. There’s just one catch.”
“What’s that?”
“We have to tell Derek.”
There’s a moment of silence as Stiles’ mouth works around words he’s not saying. “If he murders me, I expect Scott to avenge my death.”
Cora laughs, before shaking her head and resettling the comics against her knees again. “I’m sure the battle will be bloody and glorious.”
“Damn straight it will,” he finishes off his own plate and sets it to the side, before shifting her backwards more so that she’s lying across his lap. “Hey,” he begins, before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you.”
He can feel her smile into the kiss, before she pulls back with a soft sigh. “I love you too.”
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