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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

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Roomie dinner (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hi guys! How are you? I hope you’re all doing fine (this already sounds like a generic English task of ‘write to your friend in England’ so we are already in an *awesome* place, right? :D). I’ve been busy this last couple of days, my internship has just started and I’ve been learning a lot :D it’s in those moments that my brain decides to throw ideas at me, and this fic is not exception to the rule.

Summary: One week after the incident at the hospital, Claire’s friends discuss what exactly is going on between her and Ethan.

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @awhmilkywey @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie @mvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @akshara16 @maurine07

Enjoy! <3

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Jackie fell into her seat by the table, stretching out a bit. She’s spent the whole day running around the hospital, doing her best to avoid nosy interns that decided that it was their right to know everything that happened in there. Throughout the day, she would have to fight with herself to not berate them the way she’d like to, a tiny voice that sounded suspiciously like Claire ringing in her ear.

Don’t be rude

The blonde doctor has spent the last three days slowly getting back to her routine of being a doctor, after her recovery was over. During that time, Jackie hasn’t seen her very often, both with her work and with Claire staying at the hospital for the night. Dr. Hirata insisted on keeping her there for that additional time, just to be sure that all the residual effects would subside, and the threat was gone for good. No one could fault that logic, so no one, not even Claire, the most stubborn one of them all, argued about it.

This night, Sienna insisted on them all having what she’s insisted on calling ‘roomie dinner’, inviting Rafael and Bryce to tag along. They lost so much over the span of last week, and for a moment, it felt like they could lose so much more. At the end of the day, no one was invincible. Thankfully, though, they didn’t have to find out what the world would look like without Claire and Raf, because the latter was already sitting by Jackie’s side, and the former was said to arrive in the next ten minutes.

All her friends were talking among themselves when she asked the question that has been on her mind since the moment she saw the interview on TV.

“So, when was somebody going to tell me that Ramsey and Claire have a thing going on?”

The table fell silent in an instant. Elijah raised an eyebrow, asking her to elaborate silently, Sienna’s eyes widened in what she could describe as alarm, Raf nodded in understanding and Bryce grinned, leaning towards her and putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Believe me, if I knew, I would have told you. Ramsey is my gym bro, but he doesn’t talk much. Well, much about his private affairs, anyway.” He managed to lean away right before she could smack his hand with hers, laughing at her serious expression.

“I’m not sure there’s anything going on.” Sienna worded her answer slowly, thinking through every part of it so she wouldn’t slip up. To tell the truth, she didn’t know the details. All she knew was that both Claire and Ethan had feelings for each other, but she was unaware of any development in the situation.

“You’re lying.” Jackie leaned towards her. “Your lower lip twitches when you lie. But okay, I’ll get it out of you eventually. Raf? Have you noticed anything?”

He took a moment to dig through the heavy fog that surrounded the events of the day they got poisoned, trying to remember anything about Ethan’s behavior towards Claire for that day. Slowly but surely, he managed to fish out a couple of moments. How utterly terrified he was when he saw her in the room. How gentle his touch seemed to be every time he examined her or simply held her hand.

“He was… soft? For the lack of better word?” he answered hesitantly. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen him do, and I’ve known him for some time now. It was the first time I’ve seen him panic.”

“I knew there was something there.” she mused, catching Sienna’s gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. As though you haven’t seen his behavior for the past week. He barely left her side. I’m pretty sure he used up his vacation days just so he could sit by her bed all day and night.”

“Maybe he’s just worried. Or maybe my hunch is right.” Bryce chimed in, rushing to explain when all his friends turned to look at him. “You should have seen his face when we were all working out with Claire back in the day and she mentioned that she wanted to look good naked. He was so taken by surprise that he tripped.

“If I remember correctly, we all stumbled.” Raf noted, not buying the idea.

“That’s true, but you and I didn’t get a look of longing in our eyes and our necks didn’t get red from blushing.” Jackie laughed triumphally, patting him on the back. “I’m telling you, Ramsey has it bad for her.”

“I, for one, believe it.” Aurora shrugged, drumming her fingers against the rim of the glass. “They were kinda close even back when we were interns. Something was off after that, but now they seem to be back at it.”

“He said it himself, he’s not single. Claire almost suffocated while trying not to laugh, and you could almost see the effort he put into not looking at her.” taking a sip of water, she leaned back against her chair as she continued. “Not only that, but the past few days have made it evident that something is brewing. Not only is he worried, like us, being her friends, or like June and Baz, being her coworkers. He’s affectionate. He has that look in his eyes whenever I see them together. He doesn’t even bother hiding their joined hands.”

As they were all discussing, Sienna tried to think of something to say. She didn’t want to reveal what she knew, as she felt that it wasn’t her place to do so. Claire would tell them herself if and when she wanted to. Elijah looked at her, nodding towards the other three people by the table. She shrugged, turning her head towards the entrance of the restaurant.

“Happy couple is here. We might get some answers.” Bryce grinned, pointing everyone’s attention to two people that just walked in. Claire waved at them shyly, her smile bright, and took a step towards them before she was stopped by a hand pulling her back. She gracefully waltzed into Ethan’s waiting arms, her face lighting up even more, mirroring his entirely. They talked quietly about something, his fingers skimming the rim of the lapel of the jacket she had thrown over her shoulder. Only then did Sienna notice that it was in fact Ethan’s coat she was wearing, not her own, hence why it was so big on her.

He leaned down to whisper something, his lips brushing against her cheek before squeezing her hand and letting her go. She walked towards her friends as Ethan turned to leave when Bryce called out. “Hey, Ramsey! Don’t go! We’re about to order booze and eat ridiculous amounts of food.”

Claire bit down a smirk, looking over her shoulder at him, nuzzling her chin against the soft material of his coat teasingly. His eyes darkened, feeling a challenge in the way she looked at him. Nodding so gently that no one could really tell his head even moved, he made his way over to the table, pulling the chair out for Claire before taking a seat next to her. He could feel stares of people sitting around him, to which his only reaction was a roll of his eyes along with a heavy sigh.

“I’m going to need something strong…” he cursed under his breath, causing Claire to giggle, her hand flying towards her face to conceal it. She couldn’t, however, fool Ethan, who’s hand has already slipped into hers, their fingers tangling.

As the evening progressed, the conversation moved fluently from subject to subject. They all studiously avoided mentioning the horrific situation they found themselves in a few days ago. Bryce talked them through the procedure of Kyra’s surgery, ending just before their food arrived. No one asked about Sora, for which Rafael was quite grateful, instead talking about all the things he wanted to do next.

Claire laughed at Bryce when he tried to steal some fries from Jackie’s plate, and she caught him in the act. She mouthed ‘watch and learn’, then waited until Ethan turned away and successfully stole a piece of meat, straight from his fork. Aurora, who for most of the evening remained silent, slowly clapped at her, earning her the attention of the attending. That, in turn, caused him to investigate and come up to the correct conclusion.

“Are you okay, Claire? You’re looking a bit flushed.” He leaned closer when she shook her head, denying that there was anything wrong. “You look guilty. Is it because, perhaps, you stole food right off my fork?”

“Busted!” Bryce exclaimed, mocking her when she smiled, cutting a piece of her steak and passing it to Ethan.

“At least I got caught after the fact, not in the middle of it. Your laughter gave you away.” she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. “You never announce your attack. Amateur move, Lahela.”

Ethan looked incredulously at the woman sitting next to him. Guarding himself and his heart from her for most of the time they knew each other made him unaware of just how much he was missing. Now, sitting there, among her friends, seeing how comfortable she was around him, even though no one knew what was going on between them, made him hope for what could be his to have every day. Lightness in his step, easiness of his smile and the woman he wanted for so long, finally in his arms. When she looked back at him and their eyes met, he felt his every rational thought flying out the window.

Sienna pulled their attention towards her when she cleared her throat.

“I’d like to say something.”

When everyone fell silent, she breathed shakily, gathering her thoughts. “I love you all so much. Well…” she hesitated, looking at Ethan, who’s eyebrow shot up in surprise, before laughing. “How about respect for now?” they nodded in agreement, after which he let her continue. “I don’t know how I would survive it all without you all. I’m never going to take you for granted because nothing is forever.”

She made the point to look at Claire and Ethan, very obviously trying to impress upon them the message she was trying to push through. “Life’s too short to question yourself. It’s too short to not say what you feel. It’s too short to not love people.” Her voice cracked at the end, catching Claire’s hand when she offered it to her. “Life’s too short to wait.”

They raised their glasses, reminiscing about all that they’ve lost and all that they’ve gained. After a long moment, Ethan smiled, gripping Claire’s hand tightly as he looked at her. His words were a mere whisper, directed right at her.

“I’m not wasting any more time.”

#choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #fic #fanfiction #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #mc x ethan

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

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Day 7: Crossover | Day 8: Magic

@pridewrite2021

Okay, so, this work consists of Dimension Travel, or “Crossing” into another world as I have taken from the prompt. I’m not sure if that counts, but I’ve already written it so... Here it is :D

(Lost You) Found You

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Derek Hale × Stiles Stilinski

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough.It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and for Derek.

This is the link for AO3. Or you can read here.

Warning(s): Grief/Mourning, MCD, Child(ren) Death [not graphic, mentioned], Kate Argent [also mentioned]

>> Starts from here.

The rain falling down on the earth is harsh and unforgiving, and Stiles Stilinski loves it. The pain of the droplets falling on his skin makes him feel alive, lets him feel everything he's trying to repress feeling for a long time.

He thinks he mostly started to bottle up his feelings after he killed Allison.

“Let's go.”

Stiles doesn't move. He stays seated on the broken, burnt porch of the Hale House, tasting the guilt on his tongue, it's so potent.

It's not just his own, after all. Survivor's guilt is a bitch enough on its own, but mixed with two dudes who hate their very existence, what their choices have caused their loved ones—dead loved ones—it's so much more.

“It will follow us, you know.” Stiles says, because he knows it will. The bad luck is like a suffocating cloak around him, around both of them, a sadist entity that has pulled out the last breath from everyone but them.

Derek Hale sits beside him, their hands coming to intertwine of its own accord.

Stiles doesn't exactly remember when he fell in love with him. When his heart beat not for Lydia, but Derek. But he remembers the day he realised it.

It was in Mexico, when Derek died—only to evolve. But Stiles hadn't known he was evolving, and he'd wanted to stay beside the ex-Alpha. But because Derek Hale is a fucking martyr, he'd insisted Stiles go and save his best friend—even if Scott hadn't been his best buddy in ages. Stiles wasn't even sure he had friends anymore.

So Stiles had left. And then he'd come out with Scott alive, only to find Derek as a wolf, evolved and majestic and every inch strong and beautiful that Derek's soul is.

And then Derek had left with Braeden.

That had been four years ago, now. Derek had come back with him to fight against Monroe three years ago—and stayed.

Even if it meant watching his third pack die. Even if it meant having people to care about, and vowing to let no harm come to them, and failing them.

But the past-them didn't know what was about to come.

Stiles wished they did, because then he could have done something.

Not let everyone die, for one.

When their relationship began—his and Derek's—it was like the best feeling in the world. The two of them were easy, when the dust settled. There was—and still is—a familiarity between them that Stiles' soul believes comes from a past life.

But nothing good lasts in Beacon Hills, and soon the war became a death warrant for everyone in their pack.

There were divides so deep that none of them could trust each other with their personal information—Even Scott didn't know Liam and Theo were together until they found their bodies, Theo's body over Liam's, as if protecting him—Stiles still doesn't know if anyone but Lydia and his dad even knew about him and Derek. But despite the personal mistrust, they were pack. And pack kept each other alive.

Because they had each other's backs. Always.

Stiles remembers those late-nights, when everyone would hope for a better future without a war, where they could start living again. And he smiles at their hope, their positive attitudes.

And then he cries. Because none of them are alive and everyone is dead and it's just them and dad's gone and Scott is gone and Melissa is gone and Lydia is gone—

“Breathe, Stiles, please. Breathe.”

Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough. It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and Derek.

At least one thing in his life isn't completely bad.

***

The Animal Clinic—the one Deaton left behind after his death in Scott's name, and now belongs to the County since Scott didn't think to name it to anyone else—stands deserted and dirty in the pale light of the half-full moon.

“What if it doesn't work?” Derek asks him. Stiles looks at him, and he looks just as he'd expected. Resigned.

It's either this will work, or they'll die trying.

Derek doesn't mind dying. Stiles knows because he's heard the man crying and shaking and admitting it—losing Cora after years of believing she was dead only to find she wasn't dead, and then being a major reason in her actual death would do that to anyone, not to mention the tremendous loss Derek's faced his whole life.

It's ironically sad, how the both of them have drifted closer, both of them hating themselves for the loss of everyone so much that the love they share for each other is barely more than an attempt to have something right.

But Stiles loves Derek, and he thanks the universe for loving Derek not just to hold on to something, but because he cares. As Derek does for him.

Derek helps him prepare the spell, the set-up. Stiles has never been more grateful in his life for his weird brand of magic—of the power his belief holds.

Stiles knows this is the only way he'll be able to live, and he knows it's the same for Derek. But he also knows that he would have made it, even if barely, as long as Derek would be by his side.

He kisses Derek, long and passionate and with everything he has. When they part, Derek rests their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Derek tells him. A tear flows from his electric, glowing blue eyes, and Stiles wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too. With everything in me.”

And then he believes.

***

The residents of Beacon Hills, the few those remain, feel goosebumps rise on their skin on one evening of 2017, days after the latest massacre of their little town.

They all hallucinate a voice saying, “Balance,” freezing everyone, and then they continue on, unaware that the things were about to change.

Things were about to change for the better, The Spark's and The Alpha's belief powered the Nemeton to make sure of that.

***

The cold air is what wakes him up. That, and the soft groaning from his right, which Stiles instantly recognises as Derek.

Stiles opens his eyes, and the air around him doesn't feel oppressive. It's easier to breathe, to think. There's a feeling in his chest that can't quite grasp, and he's so buy trying to analyse it that he completely misses the huge tree stump behind him.

It's only when Derek curses about fucking woods that he realises they aren't in the clinic at all, but out in the preserve and near the Nemeton.

Stiles looks over at Derek. The 'wolf looks back with wide eyes.

“I—Stiles,” he chokes out, voice a thin line between relief and a sob, “I can feel them. I can feel them, all of them,”

The hole in his heart, his soul seems smaller, somehow, like they're being stitched together, and Stiles only has a vague idea about it. But the way Derek is reacting, his suspicions are confirmed.

“It worked,” Stiles whispers, and hugs Derek tight, both of them crying in euphoria.

Lost in themselves, neither of them notices the small plant that blooms behind them on the Nemeton, a new life breathed into it by the sacrifice of the various souls the two travelers brought with them.

Across the town, a Druid snaps his eyes at the sky above, instantly alerted to the change in the air—the lightness, the power—and his eyes almost bug out of his skull when a voice whispers, “Balance.”

***

Stiles and Derek trek through the familiar woods of the preserve in soft whispers and an excitement that neither has felt in a long time.

“I wonder what's different here,” Stiles says, hands moving with Derek's, clasped tightly as it is. They might have made it to another dimension or universe or whatever this is, but they haven't left their paranoia or love or past behind him. They're who they are because of their experiences, and it's not going to change, even if they get an eternity to do so. But it doesn't mean they aren't at least a little bit excited.

Derek had said he smelled his family all over the preserve, which means Stiles has somehow made them cross into a universe where the fire never happened.

“We aren't here.”

Stiles stops in his tracks. He looks at Derek. Stares, really. “The hell?”

Derek looks at him with soft, but sad eyes, like he has since they first lost Stiles' dad and then slowly everyone else.

“Stiles,” he says, “I might not know much about magic, but I know that there can't be two of us in the same universe. Magic won't let it happen.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a long while. “You can't smell yourself, can you?” He asks softly.

Derek nods his head. He laughs hollowly. “Guess me dying would really have been the best thing,”

Stiles kisses him to shut him up. “No, dumbass. Neither of us can have two of us here. If you're gone it means I am too,” he says fiercely. “We don't know what's different here, Der. For all we know you died in a stupid car crash because you drive so fucking fast—”

Derek's laugh, a little more genuine now, makes him smile and kiss Derek on the cheek.

“The thing is, we don't know. Anything could have happened, okay? Your family's death has never been your fault.”

Derek nods, and then with his eyes boring into Stiles' like they can read everything on his mind, Derek says, “Your mother's death or Allison's and Aiden's deaths has never been your fault.”

They both ignore the tears that fall from Stiles' eyes, and then Derek is tugging at his hand to continue on their little trek to the Hale House—which is hopefully standing, unburnt and filled with every bit of joy and noise that it wasn't in their world.

***

The two of them emerge from the trees to a house that's filled with silence. There's no noise coming from inside, and the lights are off—Stiles thinks they're in mourning. But why?

Derek leads him further, their hands forever joined together, and Stiles can't even appreciate the beauty of the house—the images of the burnt out husk that it was in theirs plays over and over in his mind—because it feels... Wrong.

He would have thought they'd all be happy. Full of life and enjoying every moment spent together.

Before Stiles can ask Derek to relay what he can hear, the 'wolf's breath hitches and groans out a choked off, “Laura,”

The main door of the house slams open, and there stands a woman who Stiles has seen all but once in his life—body sliced in half—and instantly recognises.

Tears falls from his eyes, and he lets Derek stick his nose in his neck, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend, of his comfort, his anchor.

Stiles rubs his hands over Derek's back, comforting him as much as he's able while he himself grieves for the years Derek's sister—her Alpha—could have lived but didn't. “She's alive, Der. She's alive, your sister is alive.”

He looks up at Laura when he hears a whine. Laura looks like she's seen a ghost, and when she keeps looking at Derek—and him, like she's seeing his ghost too, but they didn't know each other in this world, or did they?—Stiles can only crumble in his self-hatred and guilt.

He's never claimed he's not a liar, after all.

“We're dead in this world, aren't we,” he whispers, and Derek steps back just enough to say, “I was right,”

Stiles punches him in the shoulders. It makes Derek smile, even if it's wobbly.

Stiles watches as Derek goes to hug his sister, and the way she falls into his arms, boneless. He feels himself wishing to hug his dad, his pack. And then like suddenly his luck has gotten turned around and it's all good from then on, he sees two people he never would have thought to in the Hale House.

“Mom, dad,” he whispers, and then he's being hugged, too.

***

Stiles and Derek sit on the loveseat in the living room, both of their hands intertwined, anchoring them in the sea of people they'd never thought they'd see again. Not after they buried them all.

Stiles feels angry and envious at them all at only ever losing two people when he and Derek have lost everyone, but he pushes that feeling down underneath all the happiness he gets at having to have back all of them. Derek seems to be on the same boat as him, because they always seem to be.

Talia Hale and Nathaniel Hale—Alpha and Alpha Mate of the Hale Pack—sit in the middle of the room, in direct eyesight of him and Derek, as good Alphas are wont to do when unknown people wearing their dead kid's faces show up unexpectedly.

Peter Hale, Laura Hale and Cora Hale all sit on the floor before the two of them, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd sitting in their touching distance.

And then there's Noah John Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski, both of them sitting on the other loveseat, completing the circle.

Derek and him have put their emotions in the backburner for now, because both of them know when it comes to the safety of their pack, they'd rather be objective than emotional. They've lost too much to not learn that.

“So,” Talia Hale starts, eyes boring into Derek's for a moment before she has to avert her eyes, “you claim to be Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek shares a look with him, and Stiles puts his hand on Derek's knees. They might have decided to put their emotions in check, but doing it is harder in practice.

“Yes,” he says, and squeezes Derek's thigh in comfort. Everyone is drawn to that movement, but none of them say anything. Stiles throws Laura a glance though, because she seems to be biting back a smirk.

“Why should we believe you?” Talia continues.

“Ask us anything that only we would know.” There can't be that much of a difference in their lives, right? The fire obviously didn't happen, and his mom is alive, but Erica, Boyd and Isaac still ended up being werewolves. There has to be some sort of overlap.

Cora flashes her yellow beta eyes at them. “My brother died at 16. Stiles—the real Stiles—died when he was 10. There's not much we can ask.” She gives them a feral smile, full of teeth—Derek and Stiles share a look; she's definitely been spending a lot of time with Peter—and adds, “But you already know that, don't you?”

Derek takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Stiles, and Stiles knows without words that he is missing their Cora right now—the one they buried beside Laura.

Cora's smile falters at Derek's display, and she looks at everyone before focusing back on them.

Stiles gives her a hard look. “No, Cora. We didn't know that.” He says, voice hard from the tears he's holding back. “How did they die? And when?”

Nobody answers him. Well, if it's going to be like that.

Stiles has always been good at research. It's not hard to figure things out. And given that it's January here—like it was there—and the fact that he knows they were all mouring together... Something must have brought the two families together. Something other than their kids' death.

“Der, when did the fire happen?” He asks softly. Derek looks up at him with furrowed brows.

“You know when,” Derek says.

“I do,” he agrees. “Tell them.”

Understanding dawns on his face. Bunching up Stiles' hoodie, Derek leans in and kisses him, hard and desperate, like he's afraid Stiles will vanish any second.

“Idiot.” Derek calls him fondly.

“Says the ex-Alpha with the martyr complex,”

Someone clears their throat, and Stiles pulls back sheepishly. It's strangely good to be scolded on his PDA with his boyfriend. Actually it's good to not be just the two of them anymore.

“Want to share with the class?” Stiles' dad asks, and he turns to look at Derek.

Derek takes a deep breath in, and looks straight at Talia. “25 January, 2005. Kate Argent and her goons line the house with mountain ash and trap eleven members of the Hale Pack inside, burning them alive.” His jaw works painfully as he continues, words filled the pain that never really went away, only to be filled with more pain than a person should endure. “But I am guessing that didn't happen here. Somehow Stiles—” he looks defiantly at the Stilinski's, “—Mieczyslaw managed to find his way to me and fought her. Didn't they? And she killed them.”

“And I killed her,” Peter tells them. Stiles isn't really surprised.

“And it all happened today, on January 25, twelve years ago,” Stiles states. It's not a question. And with the way everyone in the room stiffens, it's true.

“Are you sure she's dead?” Derek asks then, and Stiles kisses his knuckles when the 'wolf's hands trembles in Stiles' hold.

Peter's eyes flash. They're golden. “I burned her with the same match she was going to kill my pack with.”

“Good.” Stiles tells him.

He and Derek are never going to be okay again. They might have found a world where none of their loved ones—their pack—die, but that doesn't erase their past. The scars are there, etched on every atom of their being, and they won't ever leave. They will fade, maybe, one day. And there might be bonds in his heart connecting him to everyone—Derek, his parents, the Hale Pack. Even Scott, Malia. Melissa, Lydia, Jackson, Ethan, Jordan, Allison, Kira, Liam, Mason and Theo—even if he has no idea where any of them are.

Stiles just knows he has his bonds, however fragile, connecting him to everyone, and Derek has his. It's clear in the way Derek's posture is just a little more relaxed—a little more tall, like he's purging the negative feelings from himself—like Stiles supposes he is too.

Crossing over to another world simply with the will of his magic might not be what Stiles had imagined he'd find that night when he urged Scott to find the dead body with him—Laura's body—but Stiles can't do anything to change that.

And something tells him this was always supposed to be how it all played out.

Him and Derek, losing everyone that ever meant something to them, only to jump to another world where every person they loved lost them.

Proving themselves they're who they say—and then being smushed in a hug that's as stifling as it's freeing.

Stiles won't say he'd rather have changed what happened, even if he wants to. Magic is its own entity, another form of nature that's manifested itself over eons, and if magic has brought them here—and it has—then Stiles, or Derek, or anyone, none of them have any say in what will happen.

They can only hope this was their last trial.

#pridewrite2021 #pw alt7 #pw alt8 #f: teen wolf #m: fanfic #r: Mature #c: stiles stilinski #I: Bisexual #c: derek hale #I: Demisexual #spark stiles stilinski #beta derek hale #MCD #alternate universe - canon divergence #everyone dies #dimension travel #everyone lives #my fic #whenwordsmakesense

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champhangman · 4 years

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Fireworks - Part Three

Title: Fireworks Part: Three / ? Characters: Matt Jackson x OFC Summary: I was captured by that stare. Now I’m shattered, but I don’t care Word Count: 10,200 Previously: Part One | Part Two Warnings: Uh... Kissing, making out, a little language Ongoing Warning: This fic involves cheating.

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @kploveswrestling / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @superkickparty /

Part Three

You don't have to bring my coffee this morning, I'm already up so I'll go get it.

Blinking as she read the text again, Cora pushed up onto her elbow and groaned when she felt the twisted sheets tighten around her ankles. She slowly pulled her legs free and read the text once more, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes when she saw it had only just been sent.

You? Up already? Is it going to snow? She sent the message and unplugged her phone. Not expecting an immediate reply from Matt, she opened the messages from Emi that she hadn't replied to the night before and gave her friend a brief rundown of her night before she had crashed. And, when Matt replied, she couldn't keep the smile from pulling at her lips.

Haha. You're so funny. Why are you up so early?

Cora paused. She wasn't technically at work, so… Smiling still, she sat up and pushed her tousled hair from her face. Got lonely and thought about you when I laid down. Had some dirty thoughts that I let stick around, then crashed. I woke up early because I think my body knows this is the time I get up and ready to get you your coffee.

Eyes on the screen, she slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. She watched the dots indicating he was replying appear then disappear then appear again. Turning on the water so she could wash her face, she grinned when his words appeared on the screen.

How dirty did your thoughts get? And how long did they stick around?

Cora leaned against the sink while slowly tapping out her reply. She reconsidered telling him, but he'd asked. Would he have asked if he didn't want to know? She backed up and retyped some of the message, not wanting to go too far. Though, really, she'd done that the instant she'd kissed him. And when she'd let herself go to sleep with her head on his shoulder.

Very dirty. I don't dare put them down on here. They stuck around long after I fell asleep and made for some naughty dreams.

She set her phone down and washed her face, knowing he wouldn't like the vagueness. Glancing at the screen after drying off, she saw there had been no reply and shrugged, reaching for her toothbrush. Just as she dampened it and picked up her toothpaste, her phone dinged with an incoming message.

You can't bait me like that and then not tell me. You want coffee?

She did want coffee and planned to get dressed and go down to get her own. Of course I want coffee. I'm getting ready to go get some now. And I'm sorry I baited you. I'll be good?

She hit send. Frowning when there was a knock at her door within seconds of setting her phone down, she tossed her toothbrush into the sink and left the bathroom. She didn't bother to check who it was before opening the door and peering outside. Seeing Matt, she felt her eyes widen in surprise and pushed the door open all the way. He was taking a sip of coffee and as his gaze landed on her, he made a tiny choking gurgle.

"Jesus," he hissed under his breath after coughing.

Cora glanced down at her makeshift pajamas. A thin white tank top that was a little loose, and a pair of red boy shorts. She could see nothing remotely risqué in it, considering the hem of the tank top was just past her hips. Aware that he was staring, she fought the urge to shield herself behind the door. It wasn't as though she were naked.

But when she looked at him again, she suddenly felt naked. His gaze was appreciative, and she could practically feel it sweep upward from her bare feet. It lingered like a caress on her thighs then slid up to her chest, where it stopped. She saw his throat work as he swallowed and felt the heat of desire pool in her gut then spread, causing her pussy to ache and her nipples to harden.

Matt made a noise that sounded like a whine and his eyes snapped up to her face. He opened his mouth and inhaled, tongue darting over his lips before he slowly let out his breath.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine," he whispered.

"Yeah, you are," she murmured. "But are you okay?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Sure. I got you coffee."

"You didn't have to," she murmured, waiting until he held out the cup before reaching for it. Taking a sip, she sighed happily. "Come on in, I've got packing to do."

"I've got to finish packing too," he said as he followed her into the room. "And you can owe me a coffee."

"Is that gonna be our thing? Owing each other a coffee?" she asked, sighing again after taking another sip. Glancing back at him when she heard the door close, she saw he was looking at her legs again and laughed. "Why are you up so early, Matt?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep," he said, leaning against the dresser and rolling his head from side to side. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the screen and smirked before pushing it back into his pocket.

"I hate when that happens." Setting her cup on the nightstand, she raked her hair into a ponytail and secured it. "What woke you up?"

He sighed. "We're not at work, are we?"

She thought about that for a moment. They weren't discussing work. They weren't at the arena. She was still in her pajamas. "No, we're not."

"I don't know what woke me up, exactly. But…" He sighed again and took a sip of his coffee. "I couldn't go back to sleep because I was too hard."

"Oh?" She tried not to look, but it was impossible. Her eyes naturally darted to his crotch, where there was a slight bulge visible beneath his dark jeans.

"I took care of it," he pointed out.

"You could have called me," she whispered. She never put her phone on 'do not disturb' mode. She would have awoken, she would have seen it was him, and she would have answered. And then she would have… She bit the inside of her lip. She would either have talked him through it or invited him to her room.

"You want the truth?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I almost did."

Cora almost asked what had stopped him. But she already knew the answer. Her eyes drifted to his left hand, to the band on his finger. She appreciated that he had morals. Despite the problems with his marriage, he wasn't giving in to impulse. She allowed herself a little bit of arrogance that she was a temptation. Yes, in her moments of severe longing, she wished he would give in. Because she was still certain that if she could ride that wave of passion she could stop thinking about him. Just once, to sate the hunger. Once, to quench the thirst.

"But I didn't," he said softly.

"Obviously," she pointed out. And she wanted to hear him say the words. That his wife was the reason he hadn't called her. That, even though the marriage was crumbling he was still faithful. "Why?"

He huffed, almost a breathy chuckle. "There's a million reasons."

"Is there one that stands out more than the others?" she challenged gently.

"I think you already know."

"I do."

"Then why ask?"

She shrugged, then sighed. "A moment of pettiness, I think. You don't have to say the words."

"How naughty were your dreams?"

She took a sip of her coffee, needing it before she could formulate a reply. "You remember our flight out here?"

He licked his lips. "Yeah."

"In my dream, you touched more than my hand."

He blinked, flashing those long lashes she coveted. When his eyes reopened they were a shade or two darker than normal. "What did I touch, Cora?"

"Everything."

His tongue darted over his lips. "Was it a good dream?"

"I woke up at about three and was wet. It took me a while to get back to sleep," she confessed. Saw his eyes darken even more. Recalling how aroused she had been in those early-morning hours, she shivered. "I took care of it."

"You could have called me," he echoed her earlier statement.

She nodded. And couldn't resist giving his own reply back to him. "I almost did."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because…" She inhaled slowly and met his eyes. "I need you to be the one doing the calling, Matt."

"I see." His head bobbed as he raised his coffee for another sip.

Finally feeling the effects of the coffee, she decided it was time to get ready for the day. She had to finish packing and pull up all the stuff needed for their flight later. Remembering that she had gotten a new shirt at the show the night before, she approached the dresser. Matt's eyes lit as she moved closer to him and she felt her nipples harden again.

His eyes lowered and she saw his hand tighten around the cup in his hand.

"I just need to get my…" Stepping to one side, she reached behind him for the new shirt she'd gotten at the show the night before. He moved and she felt his arm brush against her breast, dragging the thin cotton of her tank top over her nipple. She barely held back the instinctive moan, letting it out as a soft hiss.

"Sorry," he whispered.

Tilting her head so she could look at him, she bit her lip when she saw his eyes darken. "No you're not."

His lips curved. "You're right…"

"If you want to touch my tits all you have to do is ask."

"If you want me to touch them all you have to do is ask," he retorted.

Cora raised her eyebrows. Releasing a shaky breath when his hand cupped her hip, she parted her lips to ask him, but could only whisper his name as his palm skimmed up her side.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Please," she whispered. She hated that she was so desperate and needy. As though no one had ever touched her. Strange, how she couldn't remember being this affected by the simplest of looks and touches before. She turned so he would have better access, cursing the layer of fabric between her skin and his hand.

"Good," he murmured, fingers brushing the underside of her breast. His index finger extended and lightly grazed her nipple.

"Matt," she gasped. She was too keyed up already, which she didn't understand. How he could have her hot and weak with desire with the barest of touches was puzzling but she didn't care at the moment. Licking her lips, she watched him reach back to place his coffee on the dresser. Hummed with pleasure as he cupped her other breast and began teasing both nipples in tandem.

He dipped his head, eyes searching hers briefly before his lips captured hers in a tender kiss. His fingers began to roll, eliciting a whine from her, and his lips slanted over hers, kiss growing hungry. Lips almost bruising, tongue demanding, his soft groan the only thing she could hear.

She broke the kiss when his fingers started to tweak her nipples, muffling her soft cry of delight against his chest. Shivering as his beard scraped along her jaw, she finally grasped at his shirt, thighs squeezing together. "Fuck…"

"You're sensitive, huh?" he whispered, his breath a breeze of fire against her ear. She gave a tiny little whine in response and was rewarded with a soft chuckle. His fingers released her nipples and he gently shushed her complaints, palms scorching through her top before they slid upward to the scoop neckline. He pulled his head back, lips trailing back to hers for a brief kiss. Their eyes met again and she sensed the question in his, giving a quick nod.

Heat and desire rushed through her in waves as his fingers dipped beneath her top. At the first touch of them against her breasts she trembled and tightened her grip on his shirt, feet shuffling as her knees grew weak. "Yes—"

"I bet I can make you cum just from doing this," he hissed, the promise followed by a low moan when she shuddered. "Can I, baby?"

"Matt," she whimpered, too wound up to tell him that it always took ages for her to cum, that she usually faked it when with someone. But it occurred to her that she might not have to fake it with him. She had no clue if he were a giving lover or not, but the feelings she was getting just by playing with her nipples made her think that he would make sure she came for him. "Matt—"

"I've got you," he whispered before kissing her again. He tugged gently on her tank top until her breasts were bared. One hand immediately cupped one, thumb stroking her nipple wildly until she was moaning against his tongue. His other hand swept down, squeezing her hip and guiding her closer to him, then slipping forward to grip her ass. He gave a hearty moan as his fingers curled.

Cora squealed when he guided her back, his body remaining close to hers as they stumbled towards the bed. She started to sink as soon as her legs hit the edge of the mattress but he yanked her to him, giving her nipple a sharp tug as his lips moved to her ear.

"Take it off," he requested, hand tugging at the hem of her tank top.

It meant letting go of him and pulling away slightly, which she did with a soft moan of protest. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem and snatched the top over her head, enjoying his appreciative sigh as her breasts were fully exposed to him. She watched him lick his lips and felt her nipples tighten further in anticipation. Watched him reach to tug off his shirt. And though she'd seen him shirtless many, many times since meeting him, it caused another ripple of desire and heat to course through her. Because this time it was for her. Lips parting for his insistent kiss, she began to sink down, grasping his arms to drag him down with her. The mattress sank and she arched against him. She could feel a buzzing against her thigh and purred, only to whine when he began to pull back.

"Hang on," he gasped, holding a finger to her lips before she could complain. He shoved his fingers into his pocket to pull out his phone.

Distracted by the visible bulge now pressed firmly against the front of his jeans, Cora licked her lips and mentally went over her pre-sex checklist. She'd taken her pill the night before. There were condoms in her purse, which was on the nightstand. She hadn't shaved lately but she had trimmed a few days ago. He didn't seem the type to complain. Hearing his voice, she blinked and focused on him. Dread made little pinpricks through her desire and she bit her lip hard to keep from making a sound.

"…Cora's room having coffee. Didn't wanna wake you up," he was saying, his hand dragging over his face while he gave a soft chuckle. Then he frowned, eyes closing. "Oh no. How bad?"

The mattress shifted as he backed off until he was standing. Cora frowned, sitting up, knowing that their lustful interlude was coming to a screeching halt. Watching him start to pace, she slid off the bed and scooped up his discarded shirt. Her trembling fingers worked to pull it right-side out while her crashing pulse drowned out most of his words. Holding it out to him, she felt most of her desire fade when he took it with a heavy sigh.

"Damn. Yeah, I'll be there in a couple minutes… What? Yeah, sure, I'll bring her with me." He sent her a slightly panicked look. "Right."

She waited until he'd ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket before speaking. "What's happened?"

"Archer got injured last night." Matt pulled on his shirt and heaved a sigh. "Damn it."

"I thought it wasn't bad?" She remembered there being a little worry the night before after his match. She hadn't watched it but knew there had been either a botch or he'd landed wrong.

"He needs surgery so he'll be out for a few months." Picking up his coffee, he drained it in one gulp and slung the empty cup into the wastebasket. "We're meeting to decide what to do about the title now."

"Right," she murmured, grabbing fresh panties and a pair of jeans from her suitcase. About to push down the panties she wore, she stopped herself and instead slipped into the bathroom. "Mox has been a good champion, hasn't he?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, from my perspective as a fan, he's been damned good. And no one else is at the level needed to take it from him. Archer's okay, but he's only getting the shot because he won the battle royal." Her panties were wet and she bit back a sigh at the wasted opportunity before grabbing a washcloth and turning on the water.

"You're right. I mean there's always Jericho…"

"No, no, not him. He was great as an inaugural champ. His experience and the fact he's a recognizable figure to even casual fans brought attention to the company. And isn't he starting the thing with Isiah and Marq now?" she asked, wringing water from the cloth before cleaning herself.

"Yeah…" From the other side of the door she heard Matt's soft chuckle.

"To me, again as a fan, it wouldn't make sense for him to take the title off Mox. I wouldn't want Mox to just flounder until Archer's back, but you'd have to take time to build someone new." Tugging her clean panties up, she reached for her jeans, mind scrambling with possibilities. "A lot of fans would probably say to push Kenny or Hangman but their story isn't finished yet. Cody might be an obvious choice, too, but he's still wrapped up with Brodie."

"Wow," Matt chuckled.

Cora pulled the door open. "What?"

"You…" His smile was soft. "You actually pay attention."

"Of course I do."

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, smile fading as she stepped out of the bathroom. "About cutting it off—"

"No, no, it's fine," she promised. "You've got a company to run. Problems to solve."

"I don't want you thinking I…" He sighed and reached for her. Sighed again when she stepped into his arms. "I wasn't gonna stop, Cora."

"Good," she murmured, tucking her arms around his middle. "But it's not important now. I can wait."

His arms squeezed and she felt a sudden wave of tenderness as he curled close. Sensing he just needed a hug, she tightened her arms around him and rested her cheek on his chest, smiling faintly when he released another heavy sigh. His arms circled her fully, hands gripping her sides, cinching her closer to him, but there was no lust in his touch. Perhaps a little, deep beneath the surface, but she could tell he only wanted a hug. Whether to feel the closeness of another human being or to just be for a moment.

She smoothed her hands over his back. Felt some of the tension leave his body as he pressed his face into her neck. Sighing when she felt his phone buzz, she gave another squeeze before they pulled back at the same time. Gaze meeting his, she reached up to smooth her fingers over his bearded jaw.

"You better get dressed," he whispered.

His eyes were no longer black with desire. They were what she considered their usual color. Warm and luminous and honey toned. They widened when she lightly stroked his cheek, and she felt it bulge beneath her fingers as he smiled.

"Why—" He cut off with a sigh as his phone began to vibrate incessantly. With a muttered curse he dipped his head and caught her lips in a kiss.

It was so unlike his other kisses she froze in surprise. Tender, sweet, almost reverent. It made her heart do a funny little tumble that she couldn't recall it doing ever before, and she brought her other hand up to his other cheek, sighing softly as he ended the kiss with a soft hum. Swallowing, she stared into his eyes, ignoring the steady vibration of his phone against her hip. There was the light of surprise in his gaze and she knew that her eyes reflected the same.

What was that all about?

"I better get dressed," she said suddenly, unnerved by the way her heart and stomach did that little somersault again. She stepped away and grabbed a bra from her suitcase, glancing over her shoulder when she heard him move. Her heart tumbled yet again as she watched him get her phone and tablet and slip both into her backpack. Blinking, she grabbed the shirt off the dresser and pulled it on before stepping into her shoes.

"Don't forget your coffee," he said, picking up the cup and holding it out to her.

She grunted in surprise. "Who's the assistant here, Matt?"

"Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting I'm supposed to be a prick." He pulled the cup out of her reach. "I'll drink it myself."

"You wouldn't," she gasped in mock outrage, laughter bubbling up when he made a show of taking a sip.

"Not my fault you get the same coffee as me," he said, lips twitching when she yanked the cup out of his hand.

"I can't believe you'd drink after me." She made a face and looked down at the cup. Then, reconsidering, she gave a shrug and took a sip.

"I can't believe you'd drink after me," he mocked with a roll of his eyes, handing her the backpack.

"Yeah, I realized how stupid it sounded after I said it." She rolled her eyes too and took another sip before pushing the cup into his hands. "You can have the rest."

"You're giving me your coffee?" His voice was filled with awe, and his eyes widened comically. "Isn't this your life's blood? Your reason for waking up every morning? The only thing that keeps you sane?"

"I'm not you," she snorted, heading for the door.

And enjoyed the echo of his laughter.

***

Stretched out on the couch, Matt felt his attention begin to drift from the game playing on Nick's TV and reached for his phone. He hadn't been able to get into the games in weeks, despite it being close to the playoffs, despite his team doing well, despite his brother's excitement. Half-listening to the commentary after a timeout was called, he began to idly scroll through social media. He quickly lost interest in that as well and masked a sigh, about to put his phone aside and force himself to focus on the game when he got a text alert. Seeing Cora's name, he opened the text and his eyebrows lifted at the photo that appeared on the screen.

Cora, wearing a short little dress. It was a selfie taken in a full-length mirror and he recognized that she was in a dressing room of a store. Her feet were bare, her hair was loose, and she had an exaggeratedly puzzled expression on her face.

Work appropriate? Emi said it will be fine but I wanted your input.

He opened the photo, not even bothering to lie to himself and think he was looking just so he could answer her question. He admired her legs, letting his gaze linger on her thighs. The dress was blue with tiny white flowers, sleeveless, and hugged her waist. It occurred to him that he'd never seen her in anything but jeans and band tees. Well, except for the other morning when she'd been wearing that tank top… Staring at the photo, he felt his lips pull into a smile as he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra.

It looks great. His finger hovered over the screen. He stole a glance at his brother and saw Nick's attention was fully on the game. I like seeing you in a skirt.

"You need a drink?"

Matt swiftly locked his phone and lowered it. "What?"

"A drink." Nick looked at him oddly. "You know, liquid in a container that you pour into your mouth and swallow?"

"Smartass. I'll get it," he offered, already swinging his feet to the floor and standing. "You want a Coke?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

"Never better," Matt promised. Then, reconsidering, he shrugged. "I'm okay. Just in a good mood today."

"Have you talked to Cora today?" Nick asked before Matt could take two steps away from the couch.

"No… Why?" He felt his phone buzz and somehow kept from looking to see if it was Cora texting him back. Pushing it into the pocket of his shorts, he looked to his brother and waited for his answer.

Nick was eyeing him oddly. "You get so weird whenever I mention her. What's up with that?"

"Nothing's up because I don't get weird," he defended, turning and heading towards the kitchen.

"Weird," Nick called after him.

"Dickhead," Matt called back.

"Learned from the best!"

Laughing, he pulled his phone from his pocket once in the relative safety of the kitchen. He leaned against the counter to read the texts Cora had sent, smile remaining on his lips.

Oh do you? Guess I'll have to wear them more.

You want to see what else I bought?

He instinctively glanced at the doorway and, seeing no sign of his brother, quickly replied that yes, he would like to see what else she bought. While he waited he opened the fridge to get himself and Nick a drink, reaching for his phone when it buzzed on the counter. The drink in his hand fell to the floor, bounced off his foot and skittered across the room.

"Damn," he muttered, biting the tip of his tongue. It was another mirror selfie, this time from the side, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to stare at the dark skinny jeans hugging her from hip to ankle or at her bare upper half. Her face was mostly shielded by the phone but he could tell by the way her cheek curved that she was smirking. Her arm blocked his view of her breasts but he didn't even care, enjoying the gentle arc of the small of her back and the swell of her ass, remembering how it had felt in his hand.

He felt his cock begin to harden and exhaled harshly. Trying to come up with a reply that wouldn't make him sound desperate but at the same time wouldn't make him seem uninterested, he sighed as three more pictures appeared. Her in a slightly baggy t-shirt, just short enough he could see she wore a pair of bright green panties. Then another dress, this one almost the exact shade of blue-green as her eyes, the skirt a little shorter. The last photo showed her in a pair of faded jeans, black Converse, and a Backstreet Boys t-shirt. Staring at the picture, he tried to pick out what exactly she was showing him and finally gave up.

New jeans? Or shoes?

The bubble showing she was replying appeared, almost immediately replaced by a laughing emoji. New bra.

I can't see that, though. Looking up, he saw the fridge door was hanging open and reached to close it.

It's cute, trust me.

He heard Nick calling his name and huffed with annoyance. I prefer you without one. But what color did you get?

He shoved his phone into his pocket and retrieved the drink that had fallen to the floor after grabbing the other off the counter. Carrying both into the den, he handed one over to Nick before returning to the couch. He was about to unscrew the cap when his phone buzzed and, thirst forgotten, he pulled it out to see what Cora had said.

You know the gear you wore Wednesday? With the neon yellow and the blue and green swirls?

Yes.

That same color green.

Show me?

Only if you're gonna be taking it off me.

He would be, he decided. It had practically been murder, pulling away from her to deal with the sudden work emergency. Then he had been jarred by the sweetness of her understanding, and the unexpected tenderness of her embrace. He had told himself that he would be calling her once he got home. Had even gone so far as to actually straighten up his apartment in anticipation. But she had messaged him that her friend Emi had surprised her with concert tickets, and then exhaustion had set in and he'd slept through most of the next day. He had almost called her that morning, had been reaching for his phone to do so when Nick had called and asked if he was still coming over to watch the game.

The game. He glanced at the TV and saw the scores had jumped astronomically. He shot a glance at Nick and saw he was leaned forward, studying the free throw that was happening, and then looked back at his phone. And felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash through him. It wasn't fair to his brother, he thought, sending Cora a smirking emoji before locking his phone and tossing it aside. Even though they were together more often than not, it was a rare occurrence, especially lately, that he was actually in a good mood. He didn't have any complaining or venting to do about Layla, probably because he'd kept their contact to their prescribed one-hour talks each day. There were no crises in the company to stress over now that they had brainstormed a plan for the title picture. That week's show had done exceptionally well in the ratings, the fans seemed reasonably happy, the talent seemed happy…

He felt happy. Depressing a thought as it was, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt happy.

And he wanted to enjoy the happiness with the one person who understood him better than anyone else. Opening his drink, he focused on the game and let himself forget everything but spending time with Nick.

When halftime came, he settled back on the couch and automatically reached for his phone, tuning out of the analysis from the panel of experts. Seeing no messages from Cora he shrugged and got to his feet, stretching, about to suggest they order some pizza for dinner when the doorbell rang.

"It's Cora," Nick announced after glancing at his phone.

Matt froze mid-stretch. "What's she doing here?"

Nick stood, face sliding into that odd expression from earlier. "She said she'd bring our new gear out."

"Brandon usually does that, though. Why is she bringing it?" Matt asked.

"She offered to… She is our assistant, Matt."

"I know that," he muttered. "But—"

He cut off when Nick rolled his eyes and went to answer the door. A moment later he could hear her voice. Then her laugh. Hesitating only a few seconds, he finally headed from the room, a smile sliding into place at the sight of her.

"Denise said to tell you she did them by the measurements she got last week," Cora was saying. "So unless you – Hey."

Her smile made his stomach do a weird little flip. Like he used to get when he was on a plane about to take off, or like when he'd been a kid and his dad had driven over a hill. "Hey."

She looked at him for several seconds, then cleared her throat and turned back to Nick. "Anyway, unless one of you suddenly gained ten pounds or something they should fit perfectly. Her words."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Nick said, taking the garment bag she was holding. "Thanks for bringing them by."

"No problem." She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, gaze drifting back to Matt. "Oh, did you get the email I forwarded you guys? The meet and greet next month is being pushed back an hour. I checked and there's nothing else scheduled for that day, so I'll verify the new time with them if that's okay?"

Matt nodded, even though he hadn't looked at his email. He heard Nick speaking, felt something being pushed into his hand, but couldn't look away from her eyes. It no longer unnerved him, how natural and calming eye contact with her was. It didn't scare him anymore. He liked getting lost in her eyes, and he liked that she seemed to do the same. Liked the sensation that she understood what he wanted to say without having to open his mouth.

Jarred from her gaze when Nick walked between them, he blinked. Felt his cheeks burn as his brother snorted. Ducking his head, he saw he was holding the garment bag and cleared his throat as Nick took the bag. He slowly raised his head again, watching out the corner of his eye as his brother left the room. "How far is it back to your place?"

"Not far. About half an hour. Forty-five if there's traffic. Brandon told me a side route I can take that will shave some time off, so I might try that." She smiled, a soft smile that made his stomach do that funny flip again, and looked away. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah… We're watching the game," he explained.

"Beer and pizza and basketball?" she asked with a quick grin.

"Not beer, but definitely basketball and pizza." Which reminded him that he had wanted to order some for dinner.

"And your brother," Cora added. "Sounds like a great time."

"And my brother," he agreed, grinning.

"I should go."

"You don't have to."

"I don't want to take up your quality time with Nick."

He looked down at her, and only in that moment did it occur to him that they had moved closer. His gaze dipped to her lips just as her tongue darted over them. Sighing, he took a reluctant step back when he heard Nick's voice calling to Cora.

"Coming," she called. Then, hesitating, she tilted her head. "Where is he?"

"In his office, probably. C'mon, I'll show you."

Her hand brushed his and he paused mid-step. Stretching out his fingers, he felt their pinkies touch and met her eyes again when they hooked. It was quite possibly the most minimal amount of physical contact he could have pursued, but it filled him with warmth and left him wanting more. His eyes slid to her lips once more and he almost forgot where he was. His mouth suddenly yearned for the taste of her and he almost leaned down, almost pulled her to him.

"This way," he whispered, not moving.

"Matt…" Her finger squeezed his, and she gave her head a tiny shake. "Nick?"

"Right. Nick." He cleared his throat and stepped away so he could show her to Nick's little home office. Finger still hooked with hers, he led her down the hallway, motioning to the open door at the end with his free hand. He slowed, let her slip in front of him so she could enter first, and sighed when her hand pulled away from his.

He barely paid attention to their quick discussion about the schedule for the next week, instead noting how comfortable his brother seemed with her. And though he hated to do it, had sworn to himself he wouldn't make comparisons between her and his wife, he couldn't help but think that Nick had never seemed so at ease with Layla. Or she with him, he thought as the two released ridiculously similar giggles.

Grinning, he leaned in the doorway, adding in his two cents when asked, keeping his eyes on spots behind her each time she looked at him so he wouldn't get lost again. He pulled out his phone to begin ordering the pizza while she and Nick talked flight times and hotel rooms.

"Are you okay with it, Matt?"

Their conversation had become a hum while he focused on his phone, but he snapped his head up at the sound of his name. "What?"

"The hotel arrangements for next week."

"Are they bad?" he asked. In the weeks since she'd started working for them, he had barely paid attention to the hotel arrangements, only taking note of which hotel they were staying at.

"No, no, it's a suite. Not a grand one, but it has three beds, a living room, and a little kitchenette."

"I told her she can sleep in the spare bedroom," Nick added.

Matt blinked. "A suite?"

"I got a good deal," she said with a small smile.

They rarely stayed in a suite. He was sure some probably thought he and Nick were crazy, still sharing double rooms despite their elevated status. Occasionally they had separate rooms, but sharing always made sense. They could talk late into the night, about business or life or whatever else they needed to discuss. Not to mention that it made sense financially. "Yeah? Sure, sounds fine with me."

"And you're okay with me taking the spare bedroom?"

"Of course," he said quickly. A little too quickly, judging by the way Nick's eyebrows jumped. Knowing he needed to save face, he hastened to add, "I mean, you're in our room all the time anyway."

"Not all the time," she muttered.

"Most of the time," he corrected.

Nick's eyebrows lifted again. "She's not in our room that much."

"Yes she is," Matt insisted.

"No… She's really not. Except to bring you your coffee." Nick tilted his head slightly.

God. Now he looked suspicious. As though he thought Matt were hiding something rom him. Which, he thought, he really was. "I'm just saying it makes sense."

Nick gave him a look of disbelief. "Weird."

"Not," Matt shot back with a snort.

"Definitely weird."

Matt rolled his eyes. "You're the weird one."

"Am not."

Cora chuckled, shaking her head when they both looked to her. "I think I'm gonna bounce before you ask me which one is weird."

"We wouldn't do that," Nick promised.

"There's no need, because it's obviously you," Matt muttered.

"Yeah, right," Nick snorted.

"Honestly, it's both of you," she sighed, moving toward the door. "Matt 'Weird' Jackson and Nick 'Weird' Jackson. I'll have to ask Jeff to change the chryon. Weird Bucks? Young Weirds?"

Matt huffed with mock outrage. "The Weird Bucks?"

"Perfect!" She clapped her hands together and grinned. "Same amount of letters as 'young' so it won't mess up the text alignment!"

"We're not weird," he protested.

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged his shoulder while trying to slip by him. "If I Google 'weird' the two of you will definitely be in the first page of results."

"I don't believe this. Our own employee, who we pay good money to, is being disrespectful." Barring her exit, he shook his head sadly. "You know what that means?"

"You're not gonna cut my pay are you?" she mourned, pouting. "I've got credit cards to pay off."

"Did you go shopping again?"

"Again?" Nick echoed.

"She's a shopaholic," Matt explained. "I bet if you go look in her car right now you'll find it full of shopping bags."

"He would not!" Cora sniffed and lifted her chin.

"You stopped at home to take them all inside?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh you think you know me so well," she snorted, folding her arms over her chest. "For your information, I left them all in my friend's car – damn it!"

"Aha! So you did go shopping again!"

Tipping her head to the side, she squinted up at him. Her lips moved silently.

The unspoken words registered and he laughed. As if you didn't already know. "We probably should cut your pay. As an intervention."

"I'm not a shopaholic!"

"How many pairs of Converse do you own?" he asked.

"How many pairs of Jordans do you own?" she challenged.

Behind her, Nick laughed. "She's got you there."

"See! Nick's on my side." She beamed with pride. "Now quit harassing me about my love for shopping and let me go."

"I'm not holding you," he pointed out.

"You're keeping me prisoner."

"If you ask me nicely, I'll—" Cutting off with a high-pitched squeal when her finger jabbed his armpit, he lurched back. "Really?!"

"All's fair in love and war," she cooed, slipping by him and heading down the hall.

"This is love?" Without thinking, he headed after her. His hand caught her arm and, laughing as she whirled to face him, he slipped his arm around her waist. Instinctively twisting while they stumbled, he braced himself for the fall as their legs tangled, her shriek of laughter echoing around them. Grunting when he landed on the floor with her atop him, his laughter ceased.

"This is war," she whispered, bracing her hands on his chest.

"Doesn't feel like war to me," he whispered in return, breathing in the scent of peaches that he only caught when she was this close to him.

"Mm… What does it feel like?" she murmured.

"Are you two finished?" Nick asked casually.

Cora's eyes widened and she pushed herself upright. Matt dropped his arms from her waist, one hand catching her hip to help guide her up. He waited until she was standing before getting to his feet, keeping his gaze on her instead of looking to his brother.

"I'm gonna go," she said softly.

"Yeah. See you later?" Then, not wanting that to be misunderstood, he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I mean, I'll talk to you later?"

"Yep. Of course. And probably see me, too. FaceTime and all." She glanced over her shoulder. "Bye, Nick."

"I'll walk you out," Nick offered.

She nodded, hands rubbing her arms as she looked to Matt again. "Bye."

"Bye, Cora," he whispered, sighing when she walked away. He waited until Nick walked by, still averting his eyes, then moved to retrieve his phone from where it had fallen. He listened to his brother and Cora speak, heard them both laugh, then the front door closed. Trying to focus on finishing the pizza order, he stayed where he was. Until the door opened and closed again. Until, muffled, he heard a car driving away. Until he heard Nick's footsteps.

"What the hell was that?"

Fuck. Matt rubbed the back of his neck again, slowly raising his head. "I'm ordering pizza for dinner."

"Okay." Nick nodded and braced one hand on the wall, eyeing him with utter confusion. "What the hell is going on with you and Cora?"

"We tripped?" Matt hated how faint his voice sounded. Hated the panic he could feel rising within him. He didn't dare look into his brother's eyes. He didn't want to see the disappointment or the disgust. He wasn't stupid. He knew that Nick still looked up to him. He knew that his brother sometimes viewed him as some sort of role model, hilarious a thought as that could be at times. He still felt a duty towards him, still felt as though he had to show Nick how to be a man and how to do things right. Whether it be work or relationships, he had always been the one to do the leading. And he'd let himself feel some pride that he had shown his brother that he was a decent guy. He'd never strayed. Had been faithful in all his relationships. Had honored the vows he'd made with Layla. Even when things had gotten bad and he had been tempted, he hadn't cheated.

A lump of panic and disgust formed in his throat.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, finally meeting Nick's speculative gaze.

"For what?" Nick asked softly.

"For not being better."

Nick frowned. "What do you mean?"

Matt gestured wildly to himself, then to the spot on the floor where he and Cora had fallen, then over his shoulder where their little interlude had begun. Because now that he was reliving those moments, he could see just how obvious the flirting had been. "Me and Cora."

"You mean the flirting?"

"Y-yeah."

"It's not a crime, Matt."

He almost laughed. "It's not?"

"Are you—" Nick sighed. Shook his head.

"What?"

"Are you gonna order the pizza or what?" His brother pushed away from the wall. "Halftime's over and I'm starving."

***

"Are you sure you're alright?"

She heard his sigh of annoyance and bit her lip. She had asked the question at least a dozen times since he'd stepped backstage after the match. But for crying out loud, the man had gone through a table. She didn't care that it had been gimmicked, it had to have hurt.

"I'm fine," Matt assured her. For at least the dozenth time. "Just a little sore."

"And your elbow—"

"The bleeding stopped twenty minutes ago." As though to prove his point, he lifted his arm and bent it. "See?"

"Sorry," she muttered, sighing.

"Don't apologize for worrying about me."

"I'm not worrying. I just want to know that you're okay." Then, glancing to the door leading into the bathroom, where Nick was taking his shower, she sighed. "I just want to know that you're both okay."

He screwed up his face and reached for his shirt. "That's the same thing."

"Nick's okay, isn't he?" she asked, ignoring the fact that he was right. She was worrying about them. She'd never worried about employers before. At least, not beyond asking that they were alright after a spill onstage or double-checking on them once a medic had done first-aid. Not wanting to explore just why she worried about Matt and his brother, she continued packing her work bag.

"He's fine. Santana and Ortiz are okay." Matt pulled his shirt over his head and raked his fingers through his damp hair.

Briefly distracted by the way the locks spilled over his shoulders, Cora bit her lip again. It wasn't fair that the man had such nice hair. Especially considering he merely washed it and kept going. She knew how soft it was to the touch and had thought at first that he had to have a thorough haircare regimen. But no, just shampoo and conditioner and the occasional trim when Stella hunted him down and threatened to shave him bald if he didn't let her snip off the split ends.

"We're okay, Cora," he said softly.

She nodded, even though she knew she would probably worry until they got back to the hotel. Watching him gather his things, she chewed on her lip as he picked up his wedding band and slipped it on. Her gaze darted to his face while he twisted it around his finger, and she frowned when he sighed.

She wanted to ask so many things. If the band was an automatic thing. If he was still trying to work things out. If the significance of the jewelry was why he seemed to fluctuate between wanting her and taking a step back.

If he were just having fun with her. If she was just a distraction. If, once they finally did more than kiss and tease, he would lose interest and turn back to his wife. She didn't know that she even cared if that happened. She just wanted to know.

"Cora," he murmured.

She glanced at the door again. Able to hear the steady rushing water of Nick's shower, she dropped her tablet on the couch, stepped across the room and into Matt's arms. Sighing, she felt the worry start to fade as he pulled her close. She was reminded of the hug he'd given her the week before when he pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder and his arms tightened. Comforted by the warmth of his breath and the softness of his hair and the strength of his arms, she tightened her arms around his middle and sighed again. She heard the water turn off and pulled one arm from him, laying her hand on his arm. He seemed to recognize the signal and began to draw back.

She didn't want him to pull back. Eyes meeting his, she drew in a shaky breath. Watching his gaze drop to her lips and before she could remind herself of the number one reason she shouldn't, she tilted her head. Felt herself shiver in the half-second before their lips met.

And all her questions fled.

Breaking away with a gasp, she shook her head. "Not now," she whispered, heart pounding erratically. They were at work, and his brother could come out at any moment. That was his rule, and although she had needed the embrace, she hated that she'd given in. Hated that she wanted to give in. Hated that she was so easily caught up in him that she could forget where she was. Licking her lips when his arms slid from around her, she shivered as his hands briefly squeezed her hips. She took a step back, then another when she heard a clatter in the bathroom. Giving Matt a panicked look, she shook her head again. "Later?"

He nodded. Murmured an apology and turned to begin packing away his things.

When Nick came out she felt as though everything appeared normal. Matt was telling her about some of their worse injuries, in an overdramatic way that had her laughing, and she was sitting on the couch, several modest feet between them. Aware of the speculative look on Nick's face as he looked from his brother to her and back again, she got to her feet and blurted that she had ordered an Uber to take them back to the hotel.

"Yeah," Nick said, brow furrowing. "You did that before I went to shower."

Fuck. "I'll just… Check on it, then," she muttered, turning her back to the brothers and ducking her head to look at her phone.

There was a painful silence behind her, then the sound of a hand clapping against flesh. A snorted laugh. A groan.

And then from Nick, a muttered, "Weird."

"Shut up," Matt groused.

"Weird." Nick practically sang the word.

Cora slowly turned around. "What's weird?"

"Him," Matt said, pointing to Nick.

Nick, who was pointing to Matt. "Him."

"Weird Bucks," she decided. "I'm so getting a t-shirt made."

"Where's the Uber?" Matt asked.

"That would make a good t-shirt too," she murmured thoughtfully. "It's on the way. Fifteen minutes."

"I'm gonna go check with Dylan about the social media interview next week," Nick said. "Meet you outside?"

Matt nodded. Cora thought he looked a little puzzled but shrugged, promising Nick she'd take his suitcase for him. He looked as though he were going to argue, then glanced between her and Matt before smiling.

"What's up with him?" she asked as soon as the door closed behind him.

"He's weird." Matt zipped up his suitcase and pushed it towards the door.

"Does he know?" she whispered.

"Does he – Oh. No," he promised softly, shoving Nick's suitcase next to his. Reaching up, he began gathering his hair. "I thought he might have figured it out, but… He just thinks we're flirting."

She almost pointed out that they were flirting. And that it had to be obvious to Nick, who undoubtedly knew Matt better than anyone. She'd seen them communicate silently dozens of times. Watching him smooth his hair into a ponytail, she pulled the hair elastic from her wrist and handed it over, swallowing back a sigh as his hair was brought into its usual looped bun.

"Fifteen minutes, right?" he asked, hands falling to rest on his hips.

"Yeah, about."

"Don't you need a break?"

There was teasing in his tone and her lips slid into a knowing smile. "I already took my breaks."

His brief grin told her he understood the nuance of her answer. "How were the women tonight?"

She sighed, recalling the practicing she'd watched and then the women's matches she'd been able to slip out into the arena to see live. "They were great. I'm glad Kenny's brought Thunder Rosa in. She's amazing."

He nodded. "You know the offer still stands."

"I'm a week older than I was the last time you told me."

"You act like you're pushing forty or something. You're…" He faltered. "You're not too old."

"Do you even know how old I am?" she asked, glancing at her phone to see the Uber's estimated arrival time. Nothing that it was ten minutes, she stepped around him to retrieve her work bag and purse.

"I know how old you are," he grunted. "At least I will if you give me a minute to find your resumé in my email—"

"I'm twenty-six," she laughed. "Too old to get into training."

"That's ridiculous. A lot of people don't start training until they're in their twenties. I know some who didn't start until they were thirty." He sighed. "Cora, it's obvious you love it. I've seen you watching them. I've seen you watch matches online. Don't lie. I know you even watch the women's stuff on the WWE network."

"I didn't know you paid that much attention to what I watch on my phone," she muttered.

"I always pay attention to you," he murmured. He said it so nonchalantly, but when she looked at him his expression was serious. "It's a passion you have. It's something anyone could tell you want to do. What's stopping you? And don't say you're too old."

"I'm scared." The words popped out before she could stop them, and she hated that she was starting to find it difficult to censor herself around him. "That's what's stopping me. I know I could do some of it, but there's an incredibly good chance that I'd be horrible at it. That I'd fall flat on my face. I've failed at too many things in life. I-I can't do it, Matt. I can't fail again."

"Hey…" He was frowning. Reaching for her. And though she knew she shouldn't, she moved closer. Until his arm could wind around her shoulders and draw her to him. "It's okay to fail sometimes, babe."

"I know," she stressed, hating the prickle of tears in her eyes. Wishing she had the time to explain just how many times she had failed over the course of her life. "But I couldn't take it if I failed at that, too."

"Shh," he murmured when she sniffled. His hand smoothed over her hair. "It's okay…"

Cora squeezed her eyes shut to halt her tears before they could fall. Squeezing them tighter as he pressed a kiss into her hair, she pulled in a shaky breath to tell him she appreciated his wanting her to pursue her dream. She wanted him to know how much that meant to her, even if it was destined to stay a dream. But her phone dinged and she knew she had to pull back. She would tell him later. "The Uber's here," she mumbled, raising a hand to swipe away the noncompliant tears as she tried to step away. "I'll text Nick—"

"I'll text him," Matt whispered. His hand still cradled her head and it slid forward, thumb reaching to sweep a tear from her cheek. "You need a minute?"

She nodded, grateful, and handed him her phone so he could verify the Uber. "I just need to throw some water on my face."

"Hey," he called softly when she began to turn away. There was vulnerability in his eyes. His throat worked briefly and he sighed. "Just so you know? We all worry about failing. And a lot of us have failed."

She sensed movement and glanced down to see him twisting the band on his finger. Gulping, she raised her eyes to his again.

"You can't let past failure keep you from trying." He sighed. "I know you don't want a pep talk, or some grand speech about dusting yourself off and trying again. Just… Just don't let past mistakes keep you from going after what you want. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, nodding.

"I'll see you outside."

"Matt…" She sighed when he lifted his eyebrows. "Thank you."

"Anytime." Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he cleared his throat. "We can talk later?"

"Of course."

With a nod, he pocketed her phone and opened the door. Cora sighed heavily and ducked into the bathroom to wash the tears away with cool water, then glanced around to make sure nothing had been left behind. Seeing that Matt had taken Nick's suitcase, too, she sighed and left the room, walking quickly down the hallway so they wouldn't have to wait too long for her. And wondering what he wanted to talk to her about later.

And how much later it would be before they could talk. If the night before had been any indication, they wouldn't get a chance. Nick, who occasionally seemed so relaxed he appeared asleep, had proved to be almost hyper at night, and the three of them had stayed up watching stupid movies and laughing. It had gotten quiet and one point and part of her had hoped that would mean she could slip off to bed, and a smaller part had hoped that Matt would follow. But all that had happened was she had fallen asleep on the couch, head on Matt's shoulder. And she had awoke a while later, head still on his shoulder, his arm tucked around her, and Nick snoring at the other end of the couch.

Despite her longing for him to join her in her bed, she hadn't whispered the invitation after murmuring that she should go to bed. He knew she wanted him, just as she knew he wanted her. Something was holding him back, no matter his promises that the next time they got close he wouldn't stop, no matter his whispered assurances that he would be calling her when he got lonely. She needed him to be the one to make that final step.

She caught up with Nick when she rounded the corner towards the exit, and he distracted her from her thoughts by telling her they were in the process of hiring someone new to help with social media. She already knew that, but nodded just the same, asking only a couple of questions as they stepped outside.

It was sweltering, despite the sun having set hours before. The air felt thick, as it sometimes did before a storm, and she plodded along to where Matt waited next to a white SUV. There was a scatter of apologies from her and Nick while she shoved her work bag and he pushed his backpack into the back, and in the scramble to get in she greeted the driver. The only available seating was the middle row and she squeezed herself as tight against the door as she could to make room for Matt and Nick while the driver explained he'd folded down the back seat for their luggage.

"It's fine, we're close," Nick promised with a laugh.

Cora almost asked if she could sit in the front passenger seat, but kept her mouth closed when she glimpsed a laptop and small cooler there already. Rolling her eyes when Matt's thigh jammed against hers, she twisted so she sat on just one side of her butt. She propped her elbow on the headrest behind her and grunted. "If anyone calls you two small again, I'm cracking their skulls."

"It's Nick's big ass," Matt complained.

"My ass is smaller than yours."

Both men looked at her and she groaned. "Don't look at me. Mine's smallest."

"Is not," Matt muttered under his breath.

At the exact moment, Nick muttered, "I haven't looked."

She tried to hold it in. Tried to maintain the last shreds of professionalism she still had around the two. But Nick was grinning. Matt's shoulder's began to shake, and in the dim light she could see his lips pulling into a smirk. Groaning again, she continued the attempt at holding back. Then a sputter of laughter escaped from Matt, and she couldn't help but join in, laughing harder when Nick began to giggle.

Matt's hand found hers and squeezed as they passed under streetlights. She glanced past him to Nick, heart tripping over several beats when she saw him looking back. There was enough light for her to see him look down at her hand, clasped firmly in Matt's, and she gulped anxiously when he glanced at her again.

He coughed once, tipping his head when Matt turned to look at him. Cora didn't see whatever look passed between them, but she heard Nick's softly spoken words.

"Maybe it's not weird after all."

#matt jackson fanfiction #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:F #my fics are growers not showers

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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years

Text

...As Stupid Does (Teen Wolf) 18/19

AN: As you might have noticed I've updated the chapter count, making this the penultimate post. It is, however, what I consider the last chapter of ...ASD. If you'd like you could read this and have the story (and the series) end now. The last chapter is going to be what I intended for a fifth and final part of the series, but I've decided instead to post it together with this story, I guess as an epilogue of sorts.

(Oh and yes, I'm aware that this chapter is shorter than many of you would prefer. It should, tbh, have been part of last chapter, but that didn't happen. I'm choosing to focus on writing the last bit of this 'verse instead of trying to pad this chapter.)

Part 17, Part 16, Part 15, Part 14, Part 13, Part 12, Part 11, Part 10, Interlude, Part 9, Part 8d, Part 8c, Part 8b, Part 8a, Part 7, Part 6, Part 5,Part 4,Part 3, Part 2, Part 1,Not Stupid, Stupid Is… and pre-verse ficlet I’m Stupid (Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me)…

As Stupid Does

part 3 of the Stupid ‘verse

Stiles knows that so many of the problems between him and Derek (or really, him and everyone) were caused by him not thinking things through. For someone so obsessed with research he's always had a strange way of jumping in feet first, without looking. He's heard it all his life – not stupid, but just doesn't think. It's the adhd, he supposes.

Regardless of why he is that way it's something he's been actively trying to change with Derek, to think before he leaps and to look at things from every angle. He doesn't always succeed, but he tries.

Well. If he's honest with himself he passed the line between thinking things through and over-thinking them a while back.

He's so, so tired of twisting every idea back and forth until it feels worn.

So he leaps again.

Toronto went well, right? It was a huge step in the right direction, days of being together the way Stiles wants. Surely they can have more of that? So the next time they talk he slides in a casual-only-in-the-term-of-he-wants-it-to-be-but-it-truly-isn't-at-all invitation for Derek to celebrate his birthday with him in LaPush, complete with staying in Stiles' cabin.

The lightning-quick “yes” makes him almost float.

Of course, that doesn't last long. The closer his birthday comes, the more Stiles thinks about what it means that he invited Derek to stay with him, about how they're getting closer and how their relationship is progressing, and he panics. Not about being with Derek, or sharing a life with him, or even having sex again (they're not quite there yet, but Stiles know that they will be). Oh no. He panics about being a selfish little shit.

And he does so hard enough to make a pack full of 'wolves sneeze on the regular, and for his dad to start looking worried.

Dr Bianchi agrees to see him on a Sunday, with practically no warning, and Stiles spends half an hour with words pouring out of him.

“Derek finally has his sister back, and a working pack, and I'm making him leave all of that behind because I'm selfish enough to put my desire to never set foot in Beacon Hills again before Derek's, well, everything. All of that because I'm too greedy to let him free.”

Dr Bianchi looks at him, and then does something Stiles has never seen her do before. She laughs. Long and hard, and if he wasn't busy feeling insulted by it he'd be amazed with how her laughter sounds like bells.

Once her laughter ebbs out Dr Bianchi dabs at her eyes to remove some stray mascara or something before looking him straight in the eyes.

“Are you done being silly?”

And now Stiles is really insulted.

“Oh dear. You have reached that stage. Well, let's do an exercise.

“Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing, slow deep breaths. Find your center. Are you there? Good. Now imagine that Derek hadn't found you. Nothing else about his reality changes, except he doesn't find you. So. He doesn't find you, he doesn't come see you, you don't get back together. He's got his pack in Beacon Hills, his legacy land, his family's graves, his uncle and the baby sister he thought was dead for years has returned to him.

“Can you see that? Yes? Then imagine five years from now. Is Derek still the Alpha? Is he still living in Beacon Hills?”

“Hell no.” And oh.

“Why not?”

“Because Beacon Hills might be his legacy, but it's also a constant reminder that he's responsible for that legacy now. Of all that he lost. He hangs on because of that responsibility, that duty to the land and his family's memory and the pack.”

And now that he sees it, that he's been forced to open his eyes and see it, Stiles can't understand how he could have been so blind to how much Derek really shouldn't have stayed in Beacon Hills after Laura's death.

“And once Cora takes over he's got no reason to torture himself by living in the middle of all that.”

In a way, Stiles thinks, Derek's never really stopped living in the burnout ruins of the Hale house. Physically he might be staying at the loft, but mentally, emotionally... Derek's never fully left.

“He would be able to leave, knowing that the responsibility is Cora's, and that unless she calls him for help he would never have to return there. He'd only need to go back for her, and Scott's dependable enough that he could hold the territory for her if she was to go see Derek somewhere else for a while.”

He sees it now, the future that Derek could have had, and it doesn't look so bad. He prefers the one where Derek's with him, of course, but. Derek could have been happy and free from Beacon Hills even if he hadn't found his way to Stiles.

“Exactly. Now, we don't know if Derek would have found the help he needed without your resources, but I like to think someone would have realized what he needed and stepped up.

“But we agree that chances are Derek would still have given up the Alpha spark, handed over the pack and the land to his sister, and moved away. That means you are not in any way stealing that from him. I understand you panicking, but you can't let your fears dictate your truth.

“You told Derek that you couldn't imagine going back to Beacon Hills before you even started dating. He knows exactly why you don't want to live in Beacon Hills, knew it from the beginning, and could weigh his desire to be with you against his desire to be physically close to his sister. And you won. That was his choice.

“Don't disrespect him by trying to claim that choice doesn't mean anything.

“But Stiles? You have called Beacon Hills a hellmouth more than once in my presence. Now I'm fairly sure I'm not breaking any confidentiality clauses when I say that Derek agrees, because he's done so right here in this room with you present. Right?”

Right. He really feels silly now, because Dr Bianchi is 100 percent right. He has sat here – and at home, and in LaPush – and ranted about how hellmouths aren't supposed to be a thing, and yet, Beacon Hills, with Derek all but going “amen” next to him.

“Your feelings regarding that town are completely valid. Your love for Derek doesn't change that. Wanting both the man you love and safety doesn't make you greedy, or selfish. Especially not since Derek also has some very bad memories from that place. We both know that part of why you want him to leave there is because you believe it's better for him. Even if he decided to leave for somewhere not here, not with you, you would still want that for him. So no, you're not being selfish for wanting both of you out of a place that's brought you so much pain and sorrow.”

That...hurts, hearing. Stiles is fully aware of how unreasonable he's being, but he actually felt better thinking he was selfish and practically forcing Derek to move because of it.

“Then why do I feel like a selfish shit? If I'm doing what's best for him, then why doesn't it feel like that?”

Dr Bianchi gives him a small smile.

“Because you want to do the right thing, but you're worried you'll make the wrong choice again. You're scared, and you're vulnerable, and you hate both. Just remember that there's a strength in allowing yourself to feel that way – as long as you don't allow it to rule you.”

Easier said than done, and they both know it, but then and there Stiles recommits to not letting his fears rule him.

O--o---o--O

Stiles' birthday is celebrated without much fanfare. He and his dad eat lunch with the Calls. Derek arrives shortly before dinner, which the pack eats at Sam and Emily's and where the biggest difference between today and any other day is that there's a huge cake. Afterwards they light a bonfire at the beach and just spend time together.

When he opens the door to his future home and lets Derek inside it feels heavy and symbolic and maybe like a true glimpse of the future, and Stiles shivers a little. Derek of course misinterprets him.

“Do you regret offering me to stay here?”

“Of course not! It's just, you know, big.”

His heart's as steady as it's capable of being and Derek nods. If his hands shake a little as he climbs up to the loft, well, he's not going to mention it. Once he's up he turns and calls out softly to Derek.

“Coming?”

Derek's hesitant as he climbs up, uncharacteristically slow, and he's still hesitating as he comes to a stand next to the bed. The single bed.

Yes, it's a queen, but. They haven't shared a bed since before Stiles left Beacon Hills. This is a big step.

“I could shift.”

Stiles doesn't know if Derek means shift and sleep on the floor, or shift and sleep at the foot of the bed, but it doesn't matter. That's not the plan. Sure, he's not averse to a furry bed-companion, especially not on cold nights, but his hormones are fully awake and he's got plans, you know? Bestiality really isn't something he's looking to try, not even considering werewolves – or should that be especially considering werewolves? Never mind, just, nope.

“I'm not saying no to having you curled up and warming my feet on a cold night, but this night? I was hoping for this body.”

He smiles, a little wicked, and pulls his shirt off. His pants follow them to the floor, and then he stretches out across the bed.

“I wouldn't mind you warming me up though.”

It pleases him to see Derek pull his own henley and jeans off without hesitation, and it really pleases him to have Derek join him in bed. Soon every bit of lingering chill has been chased away by werewolf warmth, along with every last bit of fear.

It's been years since he touched Derek like this, but his hands remember as they wander while they kiss. Derek however is a bit more restrained, and Stiles isn't onboard with that. He's made his mind up and he wants this. Derek wanting to be careful with him is nice, yes, but it's hard to decide if it's more sweet or annoying.

(His dick is screaming annoying.)

He's just going to have to take the matter cough into his own hands.

Derek stills.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I've had months to be sure. I want this. I want you.” He twists his hand a little, then pauses. Right.

“But if you're not ready, then I'll wait. I don't want this unless we both do.”

Consent is always going to be a sore point for both of them, and while Stiles would prefer a different kind of pillow talk he can deal. He hasn't spent all this time and effort getting over how they were in Beacon Hills just to make the same mistake again, only the other way around.

“I do.”

Stiles loses his breath, staring into Derek's eyes, sucker-punched by those words. Then he practically throws himself at his wolf, hands and mouth and desire.

It's everything good from before, yet somehow nothing like it used to be.

They fall asleep tangled up, sweaty and sated.

Stiles wakes up, afraid that he's going to regret what happened, or that Derek will regret it, or even that Derek will be gone – which is stupid, since he can feel Derek with him, a line of warmth half covering him, but fear is never rational. And then he takes the time to center himself, to feel, and he knows.

This is how he wants to wake up for the rest of his life. Warm, safe, happy.

Things will be hard. He's got another three years left of college. Derek's got another year, at least, of being the Alpha of Beacon Hills. They're not going to have enough time together and there's always going to be the risk of some spectacular shitshow going down. And that's without considering their relationship.

They're going to be messy, and imperfect, and sometimes stupid. They're going to fight, and disagree, and wonder if they made the right choices. They're going to storm out and slam the doors and go to bed furious. But they're also going to be happy and in love and together, and they're going to fight to stay that way.

And that, Stiles thinks, is anything but stupid.

He turns around and burrows into the arms of his 'wolf, at peace.

#chocoholic fics #teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #...asd #stupid 'verse #twilight crossover #in 2021 we finish our WIPs

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treatian · 3 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 53: Prince Charming’s Turn

There was no arguing with David. A man with that kind of faith, that kind of belief, there was no use in bothering to try and talk him out of it. So long as the man was willing to risk everything, so long as Cora was still on the way, he couldn't see the logic in trying to argue with him. In fact, the sensible thing to do in this situation was help him. He wanted to be under a Curse so bad, then so be it.

From his home, he summoned a spellbook, a very particular one with a very special spell in it. He opened it to the right page and then handed it to Regina.

"I believe you're familiar?"

Regina took the book, looked over the page, and sighed. "Sleeping Curse…you do it," she snarled, trying to hand the book back to him.

He didn't even open his hand for it. "Let me rephrase. Time is of the essence, and I believe you are more familiar with this than I am…for once. You should be the one to make it."

Regina glanced at Henry, who looked between her and the book in her hands. Then she glanced back to him and David. He knew better than to say anything more. The silence was peer pressure enough for Regina, and eventually, she sighed.

"I guess I'll get started."

He nodded happily and waved his hand over the table. Everything he'd been working on all these nights to get through the town line border became visible. It should have been everything she'd need. And while she worked…

"You and I should have a little chat…" he muttered to David. "These things don't take nearly as long as you think they do. You'll need to be prepared."

He moved through the shop with David on his heels. He planned to prepare him for the task ahead without scaring him, but unfortunately, Henry followed them through into the front room. It was fine. A Sleeping Curse was not a difficult or time-consuming thing to put together, but it did take some time. And for the moment, David was probably the closest thing that Henry had to a parent. That soft part of his heart pulled out some silver and began to polish to give the pair some more time together, some memories for Henry…just in case things went wrong.

They could go wrong, very wrong. He could tell by how David had insisted he be the one to do this that he thought this would be an easy task. But the Sleeping Curse wasn't called a "curse" for lack of a better term. What he was suggesting, having Snow White kiss him while he was in that Red Room, was an untested theory on breaking the curse, and they were up against Cora. He was willing to let him go through with it because the ends justified the means, but this was by no means going to be a walk in the park. It was a perilous endeavor indeed.

Which was exactly what he told him when Henry finally announced he was going to go back and check on Regina's progress.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if they're not already, you need to get your affairs in order."

"There's no need. Mary Margaret will-"

"Do it anyway," he growled without listening to one more second of his "True Love will save the day" optimism. True Love most certainly could save the day, but first, Good had to have a win, and that was going to be more difficult than he thought.

As the sun went down, David pulled out his phone and made a call. He considered calling Belle himself, asking her how lunch went and if she had liked the burgers, but in the end, he decided against it. He didn't want to panic her, and besides, the phone that he'd planned on giving her was still in his damn pocket! He really needed to remember to give it to her the next time he saw her after all this was over.

"Alright…Ruby knows what's going on. She's not pleased, but my affairs are about as 'in order' as they need to be."

Ruby…with Henry in the back, he held in the swear word he wanted to say. The last thing he needs is for Ruby to tell Belle. She'd be over here in a-

"So…what's it like?" David asked, glancing back at the curtain as if to be sure Henry wasn't nearby before he turned back to him. "Being under the Sleeping Curse…what's it like."

"You never asked your wife?" he inquired sarcastically, though if he was honest, he appreciated the question. That at least showed that he wasn't going into it with dewy-eyed optimism.

"Oh, I did. She told me…but what's it really like?"

He smirked. Wasn't it David who had said they shared "honesty of the heart"? Yet he doubted his wife? Thought that she'd sugar-coated it or kept the truth from him? That was probably for the best. If he knew the truth, he doubted he'd be half as willing to go through with this.

"Physically, your body will be in a state of suspended animation. You won't appear to breathe. Your heart won't appear to beat to all who see you. You will appear to be dead. The only physical sign, of course, that you are not would take place over years as you don't decompose."

"Let's assume I'm not asleep for that long. This room Henry goes to…what do I need to know about it?"

How cute that he thought that was where he'd be delivered to first and foremost. He wanted to comment on that, he wanted to warn him, but he also needed to keep him focused and unswerving. If he scared him too much, to the point he no longer wanted to do this, then that benefited no one.

"It's your typical nightmare. No windows, no doors, bright lights, flash of fire, a general feeling of helplessness."

"Sounds delightful."

"It's not called a 'curse' for nothing, dearie."

"Hey…mom says we're ready," Henry called, poking his head out from behind the curtain. David didn't hesitate; he strode right into the back room, shoulders squared, head held high…completely ready to face his fate. He hoped he was as prepared as he thought he was.

In the back, David clapped his hands and rubbed them together energetically. "All right! I skipped lunch today…bring on the apple!"

He and Henry look at each other. The boy didn't know magic, but if he'd seen what his mother was doing, then he at least knew one thing.

"I'm afraid, Prince Charming, you're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way…" he muttered before waving his hand in front of him so that one of his spinning wheels appeared in the center of the room, close to the cot for his own convenience. David inspected it, looking it over as if he suspected the answer to the question he knew had to be running wildly through his mind. He crossed his arms and stared at the Great Wheel as he went digging for the needle. He hadn't kept on it in years. All his wheels were altered somehow, whether for making gold as the Dark One or just for ease of sitting down instead of standing at them as himself. He hadn't used a needle, like the one he pulled from the drawer now, since before his ankle injury.

"What do you mean, the old-fashioned way?" David finally questioned suspiciously, with a lot more calm than he expected him to have.

"You're about to join a quite distinguished club, Mr. Nolan," he answered, moving back to the wheel and checking to make sure it was still compatible with the needle. It was. "Before such innovations as the apple, back when the sleeping curse first came to be, a more direct method was required…through blood. By pricking one's finger on the needle of a spinning wheel, one falls under the spell. Your Majesty..." he remarked, turning to Regina. "You did his wife. I'm sure you'd like the honors."

Regina glanced at Henry but stepped forward, took the needle from him, and dipped it into the liquid at the bottom of the small glass vial she carried. He watched as the magic recognized it, filled the needle, causing it to glow a sickly yellow, and then vanished. Regina turned to the wheel and stuck it crudely into its place before turning back to David.

"It's all yours."

David came closer to the wheel. He rubbed his hands together as his heart raced, and he turned pale prematurely.

"Good luck," Henry suddenly stated, coming closer to David and wrapping his arms around him in an embrace.

David smiled, pulled him closer as he glanced up at Regina, of all people. "It's going to be all right," David assured him, voice still confident even as his own heart sped out of control. That was fine. It only meant the poison would spread faster.

"How do you know?" his grandson asked.

"Well…" David sighed, dislodging himself from Henry's grasp and sitting down on the cot. "How did you know Emma would save you after you ate the turnover?"

"I… I believed in her," Henry answered as he tried to bite back a smirk. Clearly, no one had talked to August then, and the fact that he'd arranged that was still a secret that was safe with him.

"The way Snow and I believed she'd come back to break the curse. That's the kind of faith that runs in our family," David smiled at Henry.

With that, Henry removed the pendant he'd been wearing around his neck from the moment he came into the store and placed it around David's neck. "This helps control the flames in the room. It'll keep you safe."

He smiled at Henry's act, perhaps the only one in the room that realized the significance of it. The relinquishing of that precious object, an act of bravery…Henry wouldn't need it again from this day forward. He'd be fine on his own. But David…

He smiled at his grandson. "I will guard it with my life," he promised. Then he took a breath. Henry backed away, returning to Regina's grasp. Sensing his resolve, he waved his hand over the wheel, threading it properly, and then set it in motion so that the needle spun properly, ensuring the curse would enter the bloodstream as it was meant to. Wheel in motion, David stared at the needle, then reached out his hand…and pulled it back.

He stopped the wheel at his hesitation.

"When I awake, I'll be in that fiery room?"

Fuck. Exactly the conversation he'd been trying to avoid for fear he'd lose hope.

"Not exactly," he admitted. "That room is where those who've already awoken from the curse return. You, however, are being put under for the first time."

"Then how will I know where to go? How the hell am I supposed to find a room with no door?"

He had no answer because the truth was that there were very few references to what awaited those who were placed under the Sleeping Curse. As far as he could tell, it varied for each individual person. He assumed that there was a way to that room. The soul traveled back to the Netherworld after waking because it was familiar. It could only be familiar if the soul had been there to begin with. How to get specifically to that Red Room, without knowing what hell awaited David Nolan on the other side of his Curse…

"And that, dearie, is the conundrum we're all depending on you solving. Now, I say this with the utmost sincerity…Good luck."

Before David could question it further, he set the wheel to spinning again, letting the noise of the creaks and groans fill the room. David huffed at his insistence but didn't question it. Instead, he sat forward, reached out for the needle, and pressed his finger into it until a single drop of blood beaded to the surface. He had just enough time to turn his hand and examine it, before he saw his eyes close, the man slumped forward lifelessly and was gone.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Mr. Gold #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #Henry Mills #mary margaret blanchard #Snow White #David Nolan #Prince Charming #Snowing #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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cracked-pean · 4 years

Text

Get the Memo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Sheriff Stilinski (Mentioned), Cora Hale (Mentioned) and OFC! Cousin Stilinski.

Word Count: 3017

Warnings: Stalking (I think that’s what you call it. That’s what I’m gonna go with.) but really it’s more fluff so don’t worry too much.

Summary: People just don’t seem to get the memo around here.

Requested by @stellastyless

Masterlist

A/N: Hi dudes.So as you can see. Yes this is a request. My first one actually. I’m gonna be honest. I was excited and nervous when I saw i had a request come in. I was scared that I was gonna mess it up, or it would turn out wrong and not be what they expected it to be. So, that’s why it took a while for me to post this up. But, honestly once I started writing, I got in the zone and this basically took a mind of its own. So, I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any errors.

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

It was a normal weekday, the middle of March, the Spring season was just beginning to bloom and the weather outside was nice and cool. Just right for families and their kids to be out and about. But, it was also the season for final projects to be assigned for students, and Stella just happened to be one of those students. Her dark and platinum streaked hair hung loose off the edge of the bed as she laid upside down. A book was being held above her face as her eyes scanned the pages. There was a book report that she had been assigned that was due by the end of May, when she was due to finish. Of course, Stella wasn’t one to slack off on school work. Always one to be ahead of such things. She didn’t receive perfect grades by doing nothing.

Just as she was about to turn the next page, her bedroom door slammed open.

“Hey Cuz, it-”

“Ow, fuck,” the girl swore as her book made contact with her face. Sure any item would hurt, but since it was a hardcover. Well, it just caused her pain a bit more. “Dammit Stiles. Haven’t you heard of knocking,” Stella sat up while holding her nose.

Stiles stifled a laugh, “Not my fault you decided to hang around like a Bat.” He got shot a glare from her blue-grey eyes.

While she put away her book on her desk, he walked in and made himself comfortable on her bed.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of?” Stella leaned on her desk with her arms crossed against her chest.

“Dad’s got the night shift, so it’s just gonna be us two tonight for dinner.”

Stella has been living with her Uncle John and cousin Stiles for 2 years now. There were some things circling about her in her hometown. Some lies were being spread from people she thought were her friends, could trust them, and loved her just as much she did them. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. So she thought enough was enough. After thinking it would blow off, Stella decided to leave. Right after graduation, she discussed it all with her parents and moved to Beacon Hills to live with her uncle and cousin, and continued her studies there.

The Stlinkins were more than happy to have her. Especially Stiles. Despite the 3 year age difference between them, those two were like siblings. So, once he heard the news, the then 16 year old made everything ready for her. Cleaned the house, the spare bedroom where she would be staying and bought some things she would like, to decorate her room with. Sure all that wasn’t necessary to do. The girl could care less, as long as she felt welcomed, but the sheriff didn’t have the heart to stop his son. He was quite amused if he was being honest.

“You mean, us two plus Scott right,” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Well I mean, if you wan-”

The girl interrupted his blubber, “I know he’s downstairs, dude. You two aren’t exactly the quietest of pairs,” she teased.

The two walked down the stairs into the living room. There on the couch sat Scott scrolling through his phone, he looked up when he heard the cousins making their way over. He gave Stella a smile and greeted her. She returned him a small one and muttered out a quiet ‘Hey’ then made her way to the kitchen.

It wasn’t that Stella didn’t like Scott, she was just a bit closed off. She didn’t really trust people that often anymore, since everything happened. Sure she was polite and greeted them and such, but making them her friends was not on her list. So when she moved here, she had to grow used to being comfortable around the guy. Scott did have the face of a cute little puppy, but Stella wasn’t going to fall for it so easily. It wasn’t till a few months later that Stella accepted him but as more of an acquaintance. It was with all Stiles’ friends that she’s met. Just mere acquaintances.

“Ok, well we don’t have any groceries to make anything, cause somebody forgot to buy them,” she said while shooting a look at Stiles, who was avoiding eye contact. “So you guys decide what to get as take out and I'll just go pick it up.”

With that she went up to her room to get ready. There wasn’t much for her to do. She still had on her clothes she wore for class earlier. A black tank top criss-crossed on the front, and knee ripped jeans. All she had to do was put on her ankle boots and her light jean jacket. She unplugged her phone and went down to meet the boys.

“-ask nicely. You’re paying anyway.” Stiles stood in front of a smiling Scott, with a look of betrayal on his face.

“So what’s it gonna be boys?”

“Thai. From the restaurant near the mall. But, can you also swing by the store and buy some tubs of ice-cream? Please,” with looks the two were giving her, you’d think they were in middle school and not seniors in high school.

Ice-cream? She thought. That sounds pretty good right now. Ok.

“Fine, but you’re taking my turn on buying groceries,” she walked towards the door and grabbed her keys. “Course I’ll pay my turn, but you’re going.”

“Yes, deal,” her cousin wrapped his arms around her and smooched a kiss on her cheek. She laughed and she playfully wiped it off. He handed her off the cash as well as what flavors to buy.

After a 15 minute drive, Stella arrived at the town plaza and parked. The thai place was just across the street from the convenience store. She figured it would be best to pick up the food first then head over to buy the ice-cream, so it wouldn’t melt from the wait.

While she was getting out, Stella noticed a group of three guys, around her age, hanging near by their own cars. They were all laughing and messing around, but they quieted down a bit once Stella walked by them to get inside the restaurant. The small bell above the door rang, signalling them they had a customer. Stella gave the front lady her order and was told to wait a few minutes as they got it ready for her. Once the cashier disappeared behind the double doors to the kitchen, the bell rang again. The brunette didn’t really give it much thought as she tapped on her phone, but she felt a bit weird afterwards. She scanned the shop a bit and noticed a pair of eyes looking right at her. It was one of the guys from outside.

He must have been the one to enter. He had taken a seat a few tables down from her, where she was waiting on her order. The guy gave her a small wave along with a flirtatious smile while his other hand propped up his head. Stella gave him a tight smile in return, and instantly regretted it. Old habits.

Apparently he took it as a sign to make his move, because he got up from his seat and made his way over to her. She sneaked a look behind him, where the doors to the kitchen, to see if the lady was out yet. She wasn’t.

Stella internally groaned. She wasn’t scared of him. She knew how to defend herself and could easily take him if need be, but that took so much work and she didn’t really feel like making a scene. So she sucked it up and decided to shoo him away first with words.

Words weren't helping and she was just about to snap at him. No matter what she did or threw at him (verbally) he could not take a hint. After waiting for a while, the lady finally showed up with two plastic bags apologizing. Stella waved it off nicely and without a second look towards the guy, she left in the direction to the convenient store nearby.

But that damn guy was very persistent in getting her attention. She was walking towards the crosswalk while trying to ignore his calls from behind her. Honestly, Stella was about to drop-kick him and make her way back to her car and drive back home, ice-cream forgotten. But she noticed another guy near the crosswalk light on his phone. As she neared, she got a better look at him.

Derek Hale.

Stella had seen him hang out with her cousin and his friends and knew he was in that small circle of people that Stiles’ trusted. From what she could gather up about him was that he was sort of the silent caretaker/big brother of the bunch. He was quiet but there were also times he would join in on the fun with the others. Derek and her would have small conversations when he would come over to the house when the others were over. They sort of had this pull towards each other that they didn’t seem to mind on having. But it was nothing further than that. Though a friendship was slowly growing amongst the two.

So before she could stop herself, the words seemed to blurt out of her on their own.

“Hey, babe.”

Derek’s head shot up at the loud shout near him and noticed the familiar hair and grey, blue eyes making their way over to him. There was a small confused look on his face when she got closer to him. Before he could fully react, the girl’s arms wrapped around him.

“Play along, the guy’s been following me,” she whispered in his ear.

That was all it took for Derek to reciprocate the hug and place a small kiss on her head while sneaking a glance behind her. The guy had slowly come to a stop with a bit of confusion on his face. He was sure that the girl had arrived on her own. He would have remembered the guy, he wasn’t hard to miss.

“Hey, I see you got the food. Ready to go?” Derek asked the girl just loud enough for the other to hear. And if the smile he had given her made her heart flutter a bit, she refused to acknowledge it.

“Yeah, just got to get the ice-cream and we’ll be good to go.”

Just then the walk sign glowed signalling the two that there were able to walk across. As if the two had done this a million times, Derek took the bags of food from her and she instantly latched her hand in his and wrapped her other arm around it and leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way across.

The comfortness that came upon the two was strange. They had never been this touchy feely before. The only touch that had come between the two was a handshake. That’s it. However, the two did know that they were oddly ok with this closeness. They didn’t feel awkward or like it was force. With Derek’s history and also being closed off with people, the first time he had met Stella he did not have a problem or feel any discomfort from being in her presence.

Same with Stella. Even though she had wanted to be more cautious about the new people she met here. She had felt this strange pull towards the male.

“I’m sorry, I know this must be awkward for you. My mouth just likes to speak before it let’s me think things through. I’m sure you had things to do,” she spoke while nearing the store.

“Don’t worry about it. Cora knows I’m running late already, there’s no hurry. How long has he been tagging you?” he asked as he opened the door for her. Not once letting go of her hand.

The store was pretty big for being on the corner. It was big enough where they could talk in normal voices and not be heard by others on the other side. And for them, this was good. Because the guy followed them in.

“Eh, about 30 minutes or so,” Stella then began to explain to him how it happened as they walked up and down random aisles.

Derek started to feel a sense of anger and protectiveness build up in him. He didn’t know why. Was it because she was Stile’s cousin and didn’t want to upset him? Because if something were to happen to her Derek would feel at fault with him there? Cause he cared? Maybe even liked her?

“Now we’re here,” she leaned down to grab a few candy bags, “and since we are, you want something? It’s On Stiles,” she asked him as she held up ‘Troli Sour Gummy Worms’ and ‘Sour Patch Kids’.

He let out a small laugh, “I’ll take the worms.”

“Really now? Most people would go for the sour kids,” she tossed two packs of them into the basket she held.

“Well, I’m not most people,” he shrugged.

“No. You definitely aren’t,” Stella mumbled.

She turned towards him again and could catch a glimpse of the stranger still keeping tabs on them. Stella went to grab Derek’s hand again and he could feel her tense up. He gave it a small squeeze and pulled her closer towards him by wrapping his arm around her shoulder while hers was across her chest. No matter if Stella could defend herself the situation was still frightening. This guy has been following her for a while now and still wouldn’t leave her alone, even if Derek was with her. They then walked towards the frozen section nearby.

“He still there?” he asked quietly. His voice was nice and soothing enough to bring her nerves down a bit.

“Yeah,” she sighed and leaned in a bit into his chest. “I mean what more could this guy need to leave us alone,” She then paused as an idea came to her. She placed one of the ice-cream tubs in the basket and turned to smile softly at Derek. This was crazy but desperate times call for desperate measures. Derek’s back was toward the stranger so he wasn’t able to see the nervous grin Derek gave her.

“Kiss me.”

Derek’s eyes popped wide open. How could she say it so casually with that cute smile on her face.

“What?”

“Kiss me. It’s our last option at this point.”

Derek placed his hands on either side of her cheeks and slowly brought their lips to meet each other. Their eyes fluttering shut in the process. Her stomach started doing flips. She did not expect to have this reaction from it. His lips were soft and caused her body to have goosebumps. Stella’s arms came up around his midsection and grabbed a hold onto his shirt from the back.

Derek could not tell you what it was that possessed him. Could have been the idea to make this whole plan seem real as possible, the desperation to finally get rid of the guy or his compressed feelings were starting to make themselves known to him and this fake couple thing was just a boost. But once her smooth lips met his and he felt the warmth of her skin in his hands. He was gone.

What was supposed to be a short, quick kiss. Turned out to not being that. The two were like in a trance. They didn’t care who could see them right now. Sparks were going off in their heads and shooting through their bodies. And the reason behind this whole thing was long forgotten in their heads.

After what felt like hours, which was actually like a minute, they pulled apart. With Derek’s hands still on her cheeks and her arms on his waist, they just stared into each other’s eyes. Blue meeting green. They were slightly out of breath, from the shock they felt from the kiss.

“Did it work?” Derek was the first to break the silence.

“What?” Stella asked, still in a slight daze.

“The guy. Is he gone?” he asked while his thumbs softly rubbed her cheeks.

Stella blinked herself back to reality and shifted her eyes behind him around the store.

They were so occupied with themselves that the guy hadn’t realized that he had indeed left. He was still confused throughout the whole thing but, he had finally gotten the message and left the store.

Stella let out a small breath and relaxed completely. The weight lifted off her shoulders. She returned her gaze to the man in front of her and smiled.

“Yeah, he’s finally gone,” she embraced him in a hug and rested her forehead on his chest.

Derek smiled down at her but internally relaxed too. He was sure that this was not going to end well. But, thank god it was all settled.

“Thank you. I owe you one dude.”

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re safe now, that’s all that mattered to me.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to do next. But he for sure was comfortable in their place and didn’t want to let go. Stella was in the same boat. This whole experience was such a rollercoaster for the two. They obviously had feelings for each other, just didn’t know what to do about them. They were both sort of similar. The trust issues, the fear of being close to someone again. But they had somehow found familiarity in that. Because of their pasts, they knew what to do and look for from now on.

“Is it bad that I just want to stay here for awhile?” she spoke against his chest.

“No,” he pulled her closer to him. “I’m quite alright here too.”

And if the store clerk noticed the couple just standing near the back with melting ice-cream in their basket. They didn’t mention it or seemed to mind it. As long as they bought something.

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star-spangled-eyes · 4 years

Text

Winner Take All: Part 7: The Keys

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N: This chapter flowed out of me! It needed to be told. I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 3691

Setting for this chapter: Drake leaves for the hockey camp, and Bragnae is faced with a persistent Leo.

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @moonlightgem7

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @ravenpuff02 @texaskitten30 @themadhatter1029 @randomfandomteacher @queenjilian @princessleac1 @seriouslybadchoices

Part 7: The Keys

“Do you have everything you need? Did you get all of your assignments from your professors?” Bragnae asked while Drake zipped up his big duffle bag. It was the night before he was supposed to leave for the hockey camp. She took the night off from work so they could spend time together after school before he had to leave the next day.

“Yep. I got it all,” he said, walking over to kiss her on the forehead. “Thanks for double checking.”

“Well, you don’t want to fall behind with school. You’re so close to graduating.” She looped her arms around his neck.

His hands were immediately drawn to her hips keeping her close. “I’ll be fine, Miss Goodie Two-Shoes.” Drake smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. Bending down, he captured her lips in a playful kiss.

Two weeks without being able to see Drake in person would be tough, especially in the beginning of their blossoming relationship. He was constantly on her mind, and they didn’t get much time to spend with each other over the past few days because of Bragnae’s work schedule. She was pleasantly surprised when Drake showed up at Mikey’s on Tuesday night with a friend. She liked the effort he put into seeing her even while she was working.

“I’m going to miss you.” Damn it. She didn’t want to say that, thinking it was too soon in the relationship to mention.

He brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. “I’ll miss you, too.” He smiled. “Believe me, I don’t want to leave you for two weeks. But I’ll call you tomorrow night when I get there, and we’ll find ways to talk while I’m gone.”

Bragnae rose up to kiss him again. “I can’t believe you’re making me go two weeks without these lips.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, kissing you all night long.” They melted into another deep kiss that heightened her senses. She knew he was giving her something to remember him by.

It was Wednesday, and Drake had already spent a few days away at the hockey camp. He called her like he promised, and they had a few good conversations that brought them closer. They weren’t just the superficial things any two people could discuss. Their talks would lead deeper and more meaningful with each one. It was nice to get to know him better, and perhaps having him out of her reach allowed them to do so. Being physically apart, they could focus on their personalities instead of getting distracted by how well they could kiss or touch one another.

Bragnae finished reading a text from Drake. He said he had finished one practice already, but now was in the gym working out with still another practice before the day was over. She sent him a cute, go-get-‘em type of reply, and plopped her phone back into her purse. In between classes, she had taken a seat on a concrete bench outside to eat a quick lunch and to enjoy the fresh air.

Looking at her watch, she decided it was time to head to her next class. She got up to take her trash to a garbage can nearby. When she turned to face it, she saw Leo standing there. Her feet halted her in place. He was looking at her with an almost pleading expression.

Bragnae didn’t have time for his games. Her class begun in twenty minutes, and plus, she didn’t want him to detect an ounce of hurt on her face. Seeing him last Sunday didn’t help the wound that still tore her apart. She had chosen to take a fun risk when she agreed to the threesome with him and Drake. That she could accept as a one-nighter with no attached feelings or expectations. But when he pursued her and said all those wonderful things… when he made her feel beautiful and cared about, she took that intimate moment to mean more. And it hurt her so much to realize he didn’t feel the same way about it.

Keeping her eyes on the trash can, she hurried her steps to look as if she was in a rush in hopes that he’d leave her alone.

“Hi, Bragnae.” His voice was soft and cautious.

“Hi,” she said dismissively, throwing her garbage away. Immediately following, she turned in the opposite direction, but then he spoke again.

“Can we talk?” He asked from behind her. She could hear his footsteps trying to keep up with hers.

“I’ve got to get to class.” She said firmly, keeping her head straight forward.

Leo must have taken bigger strides because he was suddenly in front of her causing her to stop walking. “I want to talk about what happened between us.”

Bragnae scoffed. “Oh, now you want to talk about it? Is it, perhaps, because you saw that I’m with Drake now? And that you lost the opportunity to be with me? Is that it?” Her eyes narrowed at him as she waited for his response.

He sighed, looking down at the ground briefly before returning his attention to her. “That’s not exactly the reason, but it has something to do with it.”

Her eyes scanned his face. He had the nerve to look sad – sad like a lost puppy. She wasn’t buying it. All of the hurt and anger inside her bubbled to the surface. Bragnae took a step closer to him. “I was wrong about you, Leo. You’re not the sexy bad boy I thought you were.” She paused, seeing a hint of hope in his eyes. “You’re just a bad guy. You had your chance to talk to me, and you blew it.”

His face falling was the last thing she saw before pivoting towards the direction of the building that housed her next class. Her body shook and her heart raced from the confrontation. She’d be lying if she told herself she wasn’t curious about what he had to say to her, but he had ample opportunities before now to do it. And that infuriated her. Was she just supposed to wait around for him to finally make a decision as to when he wanted to talk to her? She deserved better, and she had better now that she was with Drake.

Luckily, he hadn’t followed her, but he had done enough. Even with that short conversation, Leo had warped her mind for the rest of the day.

Later that evening, Bragnae was finishing up some homework when Drake called her. She remembered he had that extra practice, so she had texted him earlier to call her when he was free. She couldn’t wait to talk to him, plus she needed him to lift her spirits after seeing Leo.

“Hey, you,” she said gleefully as she answered the phone.

“Hey, Bennett. How’s it going?”

She exhaled a breath. “Just peachy.” Now definitely wasn’t the time to tell him about Leo. She didn’t want to have that conversation over the phone, and didn’t want to distract him while he was at his camp. “How was practice today?”

“Intense. Our coach is really pushing us hard to get ready for the season.” She could hear him sigh. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Wish you were here right now.”

Almost a week since she’d last seen him, she really missed him. “I wish I was too.” An idea immediately dawned on her. “Hey, Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“I have Saturday off work. Maybe I could drive up to see you. You know, only if you wanted me to.” She hoped she wasn’t being too forward.

“Bragnae, I’d love it if you did.” She heard a rustling of papers on the other end. “I have practice sessions until three o’clock on Saturday, but then I’m free for the rest of the night. Want to meet me at the arena around that time?”

She smiled brightly. It felt wonderful to know he wasn’t opposed to the idea. A few of her past boyfriends would have taken her suggestion as moving too fast, but not Drake. She loved that. “Of course!”

“Awesome. I can’t fucking wait.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “You should take my truck instead of your car, though. I didn’t get a chance to look at it yet, and you’ll need something reliable to get here.”

Feeling a bit stunned by his offer, she took an extra moment to think about it. “That’s… a great idea. I hadn’t thought about my car not making it.” Thoughts raced in her mind. “Oh, how am I going to get your keys?”

“Easy,” he told her. “I’ll just ask Leo when he’ll be home, and he can give them to you sometime before you leave.”

Her eyes closed in disappointment. That meant she’d have to face him again, and she knew he’d try to talk with her. She wondered if this trip to see Drake was worth another confrontation with Leo. He had worked her up into a frazzled mess with the little she allowed him to say to her today. She could just imagine how she’d handle it again, which was to say poorly. Deciding Drake was, indeed, worth another round of being mentally fucked over, she agreed.

“Sounds good. I work tomorrow and Friday, but I could pick it up on Saturday around 10:00am if that works for him.” Bragnae gritted her teeth. This was yet another thing she’d have to rely on Leo for that could backfire on her, and she hated it.

“Alright. I’ll let you know what he says.”

With a new paper to work on and two shifts at Mikey’s, the rest of the week went by fast. It was Saturday morning, and she was freshly showered, and had a small bag of just-in-case items packed for the trip. Drake told her he was rooming with a fellow hockey player at their hotel, so she couldn’t stay with him overnight – and that was fine by her. Staying the night could have led to them having sex, and she still felt they should wait – at least until he came back home where they could take their time and make it special.

Bragnae was both looking forward to and dreading this day. When her brain ran down the list of her to-do tasks before she had to leave, nervous butterflies would flutter in her stomach. In order to get to Drake, she’d have to go through Leo first. She didn’t sleep soundly last night because of the thought of having to see him again.

She had arranged an Uber to pick her up and take her to Drake and Leo’s apartment. With a purse and small tote bag in tow, she climbed in and was chauffeured to her destination.

Taking a few deep breaths, Bragnae walked up to their apartment and knocked three times. As she waited, her hands fidgeted with the handle of her tote bag. Soon, she heard the locks being turned, and straightened her posture to prepare herself to see him.

Leo opened the door, flashing a bright smile at her forgetting himself. Her stony expression must have reminded him she wasn’t equally happy to see him. “Hi, Bragnae. Come on in.”

Her leg twitched in the forward motion, but her brain took over before it could act. “Actually, I’m just here for Drake’s keys. I can wait here.”

“I know. It will only take a second. Just come in.” His insistence was casual. It wasn’t the pleading tone he had earlier in the week when they were at school.

Against her better judgment, she sighed before walking into the apartment. He shut the door behind her, and then disappeared into Drake’s room. Her grip on the bag’s handle grew tighter while her body became tense as well. He was gone just long enough for her to regret her decision to be there.

“Here they are,” he said walking towards her at a deliberately slower pace.

“Thank you,” she said reaching out for them, only to be surprised when he pulled them back with hesitation. “Leo, what are you doing? May I have the keys, please?”

He looked at her trying to decide something before he slipped the keys in the front pocket of his jeans. She sighed again, shaking her head as her eyes shifted away from him. “Bragnae, I really need to talk to you.”

“I knew you were going to do this.” She turned to him again. Her tone was full of disappointment and frustration, but it did lack the anger that fueled her words during their first confrontation. “Please, just give me the keys. I have somewhere to be.”

He took a step closer to her. “Come on. You’ve got a few minutes to spare, don’t you? Just hear me out, and then I’ll give you the keys.”

It irked her to have to admit that she did have spare time. Drake was only two hours away, but she wanted to give herself extra time to fill the truck up with gas, if needed, and take her time finding the arena he practiced in since she’d never been there before. Her damned curiosity piqued again, and she felt herself warming up to the idea of hearing what he wanted to tell her.

“Okay, fine.”

“Can we take a seat in the living room?” He held out a hand for her to join him, but she just brushed past him instead. She dropped her bags by the side of the couch and sat down. He followed a few seconds later.

Not wanting to waste any more time there, or worse, letting him dredge up her feelings for him, exposing all of her weaknesses, she decided to speak first. “So, enlighten me, Leo.” She turned to him coldly. “Tell me your version of what happened between us. Because from where I’m sitting, I can already tell you it’s a completely different story.”

Leo adjusted on the cushion to face her more. He inhaled a deep breath before he spoke. “I know what I did to you was wrong. It felt wrong… and I didn’t mean to hurt you that way.”

She glared at him. “How could you say you didn’t mean to hurt me when you knew it was wrong to just ditch me after we had sex? I mean, for God’s sake, it was like a freaking switch had been turned off inside you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but took another moment to think of a response. “Bragnae, I want to explain this to you, but I need you to hear me out. I’m going to sound like a real asshole, but I just need the chance to say it without you dissecting everything in between.”

She narrowed her eyes, but sat back against the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t really in the position to make demands of the conversation, but if she wanted to get this over with, she’d let him say his peace. She waved an impatient hand in front of her to get him to continue.

“Thank you.” He visibly relaxed. “The night we had at the club was unforgettable. I really enjoyed being with you.” He swallowed to give himself a moment. “Look, it’s no secret that I don’t really do relationships. I’ve conditioned myself to just… have a good time, and then move on. I can’t say that wasn’t my intention with you in the beginning, but then we became friends. We got to know each other. And that was different for me. I don’t have friends who are girls. Not like you.”

He looked to the sofa cushion for courage. “After the night of the bet, I thought I’d be satisfied that I was finally able to be with you. But I wasn’t. Even though Drake was there too, I felt something spark between us. And when I took you to the club, and we had sex,” he paused to reflect on the memory. “It shook me. That whole day was amazing with you. And then watching you fall apart in my arms, I felt drawn to you. Like I wanted to keep seeing you day after day, making you come, making you smile. I… wanted more than just that night. And it scared me.”

“Why would being with me be so bad? Why would it scare you?” Leo was revealing raw emotions with her for the first time. She had never seen him like that.

He exhaled another breath, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to speak. “When I was a senior in high school, I had been dating this one girl for about a year. We were very close, and I even told her that I loved her. We had talked about going to the same college, and being together forever. And then one day, she broke up with me. She told me she was going to a different college and thought it was best that we break it off, so we could start fresh somewhere else.”

Bragnae felt empathy towards him. Break ups were hard, especially when a lot of time and feelings were invested.

“That devastated me. It just made me feel like I meant nothing to her. All those talks, all of our plans. I had no idea what I did to make her change her mind, but she didn’t let me in on it. She broke up with me with ease. Not a single tear was shed. I didn’t even get a goodbye hug from her.” He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as he seemingly fought back the rush of painful memories.

“So, I decided then that I wouldn’t allow myself to get hurt like that again. Before any girl could pull me into an emotional trap, I’d have my fun and then I’d leave her. It was the only way I knew how to protect myself. It took a good year and a lot of different women to help me get over my ex. I didn’t ever want to go through that pain again.”

She understood him better now. Not that she condoned his actions, but she understood.

“And the night at the club with you, right after I came harder than I’ve ever come before, I looked into your eyes and felt the same feelings I had for my ex before she ended things. Only this time, it was much more. I really like you, Bragnae, but having that familiar feeling creep back into my life made me want to run. If I allowed you to pull me in – even more than you’d already done – there was a chance I’d get hurt again. So, I shamefully pushed you away.”

Bragnae hated his ex for hurting him this way, but in the end it was Leo who could make the choice to move on from it instead of letting the past dictate his life.

“Leo, how many women are needed to get you to take a risk with your heart again? You are missing out on so much because you’re afraid of being hurt. If you would have just allowed yourself to feel what your heart was telling you that night at the club,” she paused, feeling emotion creep into her throat. “Things could have been very different.”

He moved closer to her on the sofa. “I know.” He picked up her hand, sandwiching it between his. “And when I saw you kissing Drake the other night, all I could think about was how mad I was at myself for missing the chance to be with you. I’ve thought of you every day since we were together. I can’t deny my feelings for you, Bragnae. Not when they’re this strong.”

His ocean blue eyes peered deep within her. They looked at each other in silence for another moment as he brought her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was an idiot. You didn’t deserve that."

Her eyes glistened. “No, I didn’t,” she whispered.

Seeing the effect his words had on her, Leo slowly shifted towards her again. He extended a cautious arm so he could cup her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Bragnae.”

Her breath had quickened during his speech. She believed every word he said. There was nothing on his face that implied he was lying or making excuses. And she could feel their shared pain weighing heavily on her heart.

“What can I do to make this right for you?” The pleading look was back in his eyes.

“I really needed to hear this, Leo. It makes complete sense, and I’m sorry that you were hurt so deeply in the past.” She pulled her hand gently out of his grip. “I wish you would have told me about this that night at the club. I could have helped you through it. But you chose fear over your desire to be with me, and I am no one’s second choice.” She stood to gather her bags. As she blinked her eyes, rogue tears fell down her cheeks.

“Bragnae, please don’t go. Wait.” He grabbed for her arm, but she moved out of his grip.

“Thank you for finally telling me this, but I have to go. May I please have Drake’s keys?” She held her arm out with an open hand.

He sighed, fishing in his pocket for the keys. He pulled them out and dropped them into her hand. Leo quickly covered her hand with his, looking at her with a regretful and hurt expression.

Another moment went by before he released her. She gripped the keys, slung her purse and tote bag over her shoulder and turned to leave the apartment. Somehow, with the truth laid out before her, Bragnae still didn’t feel better. She thought knowing why he treated her so badly would make up for the pain she felt, but it didn’t. All of the ‘why’s’ she asked herself before now turned into the “what if’s”, and she had a two hour drive ahead of her to contemplate them all.

#trr #trr choices fanfic #trr drake #trr leo #the royal romance #the royal romance drake #the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #drake x mc #drake x bragnae #drake walker #leo reese #bragnae bennett #trr love triangle #TRR Winner Take All Fanfic #so much sighing

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believingispowerfulmagic · 4 years

Text

We All Will Be Together Chapter 5: “Mother’s Day”

"So, what's Robin doing for you this weekend?" Mal asked, leaning against Regina's door as she watched the brunette packed up at the end of the day.

"Barbecue picnic in the backyard with the boys," Regina replied, closing her bag before shrugging on the light coat she had brought. While the days had gotten warmer, the temperatures were almost cold once the sun went down. As she pulled her hair from the collar, she added: "Archie will stop by at one point too."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "Robin's okay with that?"

"Yes, he is," Regina said. "He understands how important Archie is to me and Henry."

"Just checking," she replied. "Robin seems to be a pretty understanding and laidback guy but he also seems to be big on family. I would figure he'd be a stickler for keeping family celebrations to, you know, family."

Regina frowned, straightening up to look at Mal. "Robin is big on family but doesn't give a fuck about blood ties. He's all about found family, just like me. So Archie is family. Tink is family. John is family. Granny is family. You are family."

Mal's expression softened. "You consider me family?"

"Of course we do," Regina told her, shouldering her bag. "And you would be invited over if I didn't know you already have plans for Mother's Day yourself."

"Yes, I do. Not that I know what they are exactly. Lily refuses to tell me anything. Not even how to dress – she says she's going to handle that," Mal told her, rolling her eyes.

Regina grinned, knowing where Lily was going to take her mother that weekend. She had been sworn to secrecy and didn't want to give her friend any clue she knew. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Lily has a great sense of fashion," she told Mal.

"I guess so," she replied with a sigh. "You just know how I feel."

"I know. I usually feel the same. But I've been learning how to be more spontaneous and to trust my loved ones," Regina said.

Mal looked her up and down before smirking. "You and Robin have barely been married half a year and you're already changing."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "I prefer growing."

"Fair enough," her friend allowed. "Either way, I like it. It's about time you let someone lift you up rather than tear you down."

They left the office together, locking it up. Once they got to the parking lot, Regina said her goodbyes to her friend. "Happy Mother's Day, Mal. I'll see you Monday."

"Happy Mother's Day, Regina," Mal replied, unlocking her car and getting into it. As she started it up, Regina walked toward her car to head home as well.

She unlocked her car and opened the passenger door, placing her bag on the seat. Closing it, she heard a familiar voice that sent a chill down her spine. "I thought you two would never leave."

"Mother," she said tersely. She turned around to find Cora standing next to her car, wearing a black power suit and her brown hair immaculately coiffed. It looked like she was there for a dinner date rather than to undoubtedly harass Regina.

Regina crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"You won't take our calls," Cora replied, stepping forward. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I don't think I'm allowed to talk to you," Regina told her, trying to step away from her. "I'm suing you, remember?"

Cora paused, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, right. That unpleasantness."

"Unpleasantness? You stole from my trust and made me lick your boots to get money that was always mine," Regina argued, feeling her anger over the situation rising again.

"That's a bit colorful, dear, but you always had a flair for the dramatics. I'm sure if we talk this over, we can come to a peaceful resolution that doesn't involve dragging this through the courts and media," her mother replied as if she were commenting on the weather.

Regina scowled at her. "No."

Cora frowned. "You're being unreasonable."

"Translation – I'm not doing what you want me to do," Regina replied, heading toward the driver's side door. "I'm not going to dinner with you, Mother. Goodnight."

"What about Sunday? It's Mother's Day. You and Henry should come up to the house for brunch," Cora replied, almost sounding desperate.

Cora Mills-Blanchard never sounded desperate.

Regina paused before slowly turning around, tilting her head as she studied her mother. Cora was trying to keep her poker face but Regina could see some sadness lurking in her eyes. Did it really mean that much to her for Regina and Henry to see her on Mother's Day? Or was something else going on?

"I already have plans on Mother's Day with my family," she replied, knowing she had to hold firm. "I'm sure you'd rather celebrate with Zelena and Poppy anyway."

"Your sister and her family have their own plans," Cora said, trying to keep her voice light. "The same with Mary Margaret."

Regina already knew Mary Margaret had declined to go to Mother's Day brunch, explaining that she usually had gone in the past to support Regina as she didn't really consider Cora much of a mother. Yet Zelena was always eager to get their mother's approval, so why would she not attend brunch this year? Or not even include Cora in her plans? Something wasn't right.

But she didn't have time to figure out what was really going on. She was tired, hungry and just done.

"I don't have all night to play your games, Mother. I need to get home. And it's probably best if the next time you have anything to say to me, you have your lawyer talk to mine," Regina said, opening the door and finally getting in.

Cora caught the door. "I understand. You are stubborn and you don't want to admit you made a mistake. But I promise you, if you come back now and drop this silly lawsuit, everything can go back to normal and all will be forgiven."

"No," Regina said firmly. "Now let go of my door or I will hit the panic button and make a scene."

"That man has changed you," her mother sniffed.

Regina nodded. "You're right. His love and support have given me the strength to stand up to you and you don't like that. Now, let go."

She held up her keys, her thumb hovering over the panic button. One push and her car's alarm would go off, sending security running from the courthouse. Cora wouldn't like the embarrassment that would cause, so Regina knew she would back down.

"Fine," Cora replied, letting go of the door. "But you'll regret this. One day you'll come crawling back and I may not be inclined to forgive you."

Regina closed the door on her mother, gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. She took a few calming breaths before sticking her key in the ignition, turning her car on. The last thing she would ever do was crawl back to her mother. No matter what happened with Robin, that much would always be true.

She pulled out of her spot and as she headed to the exit, she looked around the parking lot for her mother or her car. Neither were there, so she felt confident that Cora had left and gone some place else. As long as it was far away from her and her family, Regina didn't care where she went.

It was a short ride home, which meant she could spend more time with her family but it also meant she couldn't shake off her conversation with her mother before facing them. She took a few more calming breaths in her car before heading inside, hoping she was able to hide it a bit longer.

Continue reading on FFN, AO3 or Wattpad.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #the christmas wish #we all will be together

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dukedrakes · 5 years

Text

Thank You

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Lily)

Rating: PG-13, implied n*fw but nothing is explicitly said.

Words: 2.4K

Summary: Lily says thank you to Ethan.

It kinda bothered me that MC never thanked Ethan for bringing Mrs Martinez’s son to the hearing and ultimately contributed to having her reinstated at Edenbrook, so I decided to fix that.

Don’t forget to tell me what you think, Reblog and Like! Enjoy!

Find my other work here.

This work contains dialogue written by Pixelberry. I do not own that dialogue. All of it belongs to Pixelberry.

Taglist: @carreraleigh @emceesynonymroll @butindeed @beneath-the-ancient-sign @saivilo @ibldw-main @drakeswalkers @maxwellshippo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @drakewalkerwhipped @cora-nova @nazariortega @katedrakeohd @ladyangel70 @drakesensworld @ccolz88-blog @i-miss-trr @lady-kato @nazario-sayeed

(I curated the tag list by adding people who wanted to be tagged + people who interacted with any of my posts of or about my fics and/or are mutuals/friends, so if you’d like to be added or removed, let me know!)

Dr. Lily Murphy froze with her mouth agape as she turned to look behind her. After having witnesses attest to her character and skill as a doctor as well as other senior physicians, Lily didn’t know if she could handle anymore. The man was short, middle-aged and seems to have a permanent expression of anguish on his face as he made his way down the stairs to the front of the auditorium.

“That’s Luis Martinez. The son of the woman you got killed. The one suing the hospital. You’re so toast it’s making me crave breakfast.” Declan Nash whispered over to her. Lily shrunk in her seat; she has a feeling this wouldn’t be good.

Lily barely registers as Luis asks if she’s the one who “did it”, referring to the action of administrating stolen medication that wasn’t guaranteed to work to his mother without approval.

“I am.” Lily said, trying her best not to make her voice waver.

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an embrace from the person who was may be the cause of her loss in career. She tensed before she awkwardly hugged back, patting him on the back as he clutched her. He thanks her, which surprises her more.

“Mr. Martinez! This doctor is the reason your mother is dead!”

Luis pulls away as he answers, looking Lily dead in the eye. “And she’s the reason why my mother lived.”

Lily can hardly believe it as she listened to Luis’ explanation of his change of heart. Of his understanding of why she did what she did. That it granted his mother a kind of happiness she hasn’t experienced in decades. That’s all Lily was trying to do. Grant her happiness and a chance to experience life away from the sterile walls she’d been trapped in for years. Lily knew, despite her own anxieties about her own fate, that she had down the right thing. She had given someone the chance to live – even if it wasn’t for very long. To fulfil their final wishes. And she was so glad that her son understood too.

“That’s why I’m dropping my lawsuit.”

The words rang in Lily’s head as she registered the words. He was dropping the lawsuit. Her head followed him with disbelief written all over her face. She watched him climb the stairs slowly, reaching the back of the room before he slid into the seat next to the man who’s smile gave her butterflies.

Ethan.

Of course, it was Ethan. Only he could have convinced Mrs. Martinez’s son to come to her hearing. Her heart swelled at the fact that he did this for her. When she asked Ethan to come to the hearing, he hadn’t hesitated. But with everything going on with Naveen and their rendezvous two days ago, she wondered when he had reached out to Luis and organised this. Was it before? She hadn’t even heard from him, yet he had eluded that he’d been trying to help her. But he seemed so hopeless when she’d come to him the day before yesterday. Before they had finally given into themselves. She couldn’t work it out. But whenever it was. She was incredibly grateful and amazed this man, who had been so tough and unforgiving with her, would do this.

The smile she returned was not only one of gratitude, but one that she hoped conveyed how much she cared for him. Lily looked at him for a little longer, forgetting what was going on around her before reluctantly turning away from him and back to the Hearing, waiting for her fate.

Lily lay, curled up to Ethan’s side. One arm resting against him, her fingers trailing the groves of his abdominal muscles. Ethan had one of his arms under his head and the other around her waist, his thumb absently stroking the soft skin there, skin that only moments ago he had held tightly as they saw stars together. They were both naked in her bed after one of the best nights of her life. She didn’t think it could get any better than the first time, but she was wrong. Terribly wrong.

After the hearing where she was finally reinstated at Edenbrook, she’d gone to the bar with her colleagues and friends to celebrate. And she did for a while, sipping drinks and laughing, hugging and accepting congratulations. But even so, there was only one person who wasn’t there, someone who she looked up to and adored, someone who has changed her life and ultimately her career. The only person she truly wanted to celebrate with.

Ethan had arrived late, having been caught up at the hospital, but Lily caught him before he could even step inside the bar. After learning he would return to his old position, she knew that all they had was tonight. Because tomorrow, everything would change. Everything would be back to before. It didn’t take much convincing, because Ethan knew too. And he wanted this as much as she did.

The bar seemed like so long ago now, so distant in their reality as Lily lay there in the room illuminated only by moonlight with Ethan. She sighed audibly as she felt Ethan’s arm around her tighten. She looked up at him to see Ethan gazing at her with hooded lids.

“Hey.” She whispered, smiling at him.

“Hey.” He replied, returning it.

She didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment by remembering that this was the last time she would ever be in his arms. That it was the last time she’d feel his touch, his kiss. She tried to block out those thoughts and just relish in his warmth. She buried her head in his side and pressed a kiss to his torso. Ethan hummed in content as he pulled her on top of him. Lily placed her legs either side of him as she lay her bare chest on his bare chest. Their bodies parallel, Ethan loved the feeling of her skin on his.

Lily rested her chin on her hands that lay over his pectorals. They looked at each other, memorising every curve of each other’s faces. She would miss this. She would miss him. There is no way Ethan would ever pursue a relationship with her now. As much as she wanted it, she knew deep down it was probably for the best. But she would still crave him. It would be hard, having to stand next to him, his hand so close yet she couldn’t hold. To watch him get frustrated over a case and not be able to kiss away the furrow in his brow. It would be hard. But it was a reality that she would have to face. Lily wondered if it would be as hard for him as it would be for her. She wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethan asked, bringing her out of her subconscious. He gently put some of Lily’s hair behind her ear.

Lily shook her head. “If I told you it would ruin this.”

Ethan smiled sadly, knowing exactly what she was talking about. He tightened his arms around her. “I don’t know how I’m going to let you go.”

Lily shook her head again and kissed his chest. “Don’t. Let’s not think about it. Let’s just think about now. And how perfect this is. Nothing exists beyond this moment. Tomorrow doesn’t matter. It’s just now”

Ethan didn’t reply. He just stroked her hair, taking a deep breath, the smell of her cocoa butter shampoo was intoxicating. God, he’d miss this.

They stayed like that for a while. Silent. Lily wasn’t sure how long they’d been like this for, but it was surely past 1am. Lily looked up at Ethan to see his eyes had closed, his breathing deep and even. She shifted off him gently, trying not to stir him. She covered them in blankets as she moved to lay beside him, on her side so she could look at him. Lily’s eyes traced the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose and his lips. She smiled. How could she be this lucky? She carefully traced his jawline with her index finger, up and down before running the back of her finger over his stubble. It wasn’t long before Ethan smiled and turned his head towards her.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Lily asked.

“I was just resting my eyes.” Ethan replied, shifting so he was on his side, facing her.

They were so close, if either of them moved forward their lips would meet. Lily lost herself in his blue eyes, which were dark in the low lighting of her room. This…thing…between them was so raw and full of emotion. She’d never felt anything like this with anyone before. She was scared about how much Ethan meant to her. He was slowly consuming every part of her and yet, she didn’t want it to stop. Ethan was so hard to read sometimes, but in this moment, in the way he looked at her, there was something there that showed that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same way she was.

“I never said thank you.” Lily said, her eyes still on his.

Ethan frowned. “For what?”

“For bringing Mr. Martinez to the hearing. If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be unemployed right now.” Lily said as she reached to hold Ethan’s hand in hers. Desperate to touch him.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“But you did.” Lily insisted. “It’s because of you that he dropped the lawsuit. And it’s because of you that he was able to understand why I did what I did. His reaction probably helped sway some of the panellists.”

Ethan shook his head. “That was all you.”

Lily cocked her head. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Ethan rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re a good doctor, Lily. Luis changed his mind because he heard how good you are not only as a doctor but as a person. Hearing those witnesses and how you helped them, he could see that what you did for Mrs. Martinez was to make her happy and her give her the chance to live her life on her terms. None of that is because of me.”

Lily couldn’t help but smile at his words. “You still convinced him to come. He couldn’t have been jumping for joy at the chance to attend my hearing.”

Ethan smiled. “He most certainly was not.”

“How did you do it?” Lily asked.

Ethan shrugged. “I told him he needed to understand the weight of what he was doing. He was doing what he thought was right. But he needed to see the people he was affecting. And how they were the same people that looked after his mother for 10 years whilst he barely visited. The nerve of him to sue the hospital and potentially ruin your career when he didn’t even understand his mother or know what she wanted.”

Lily chuckled. “You’re too harsh.”

“It’s the truth.” Ethan defended, frowning playfully.

Lily shook her head and brought his hand to her lips. “When did you do all this anyway? The other day when we…you said you had been doing things to try and help me, but you never said anything to me.” Lily said as she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand before meeting his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on and what you were planning?”

Ethan sighed. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. After Dr. Emery wouldn’t let me testify, I had to think of something else. It took me a few days to get in touch with Luis, it wasn’t until the morning of the hearing that I finally spoke to him and pretty much threatened him to show up.”

“You didn’t.” Lily widened her eyes.

“I didn’t actually threaten him. But I wasn’t very nice, I assure you.” Ethan grinned.

Lily laughed and rolled her eyes. Her face softened as she looked at him. “Still. Thank you. For doing that and for being there today. Having you there, I really appreciated it. I don’t know if I could’ve faced it without knowing you were there at the back, having my back.”

“You could’ve done it, Lily. You’ve never really needed me. But I’m glad I was able to be that for you.” Ethan smiled softly at her, placing a hand on her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

Lily smiled. “See, you can save the people you care about after all.”

Ethan shook his head and whispered so quietly that Lily could barely hear him, “I care about you more than you could ever know.”

“I care about you too.” Lily whispered back.

Ethan closed the small distance between them and pressed the softest of kisses to Lily’s lips. She returned the kiss, deepening it gently as she cupped his cheek with her hand. Ethan moved his hand down to her waist and pulled her flush against him. Lily hooked a leg around his thigh and they both proceeded to tangle their legs together. They couldn’t get enough of each other. It wouldn’t ever be enough.

Ethan pulled away for a moment to say: “I can’t stay the night, Lily.” Ethan searched her eyes with a look of anguish on his face. He hated knowing that he would have to leave her.

Lily couldn’t stop the ache in her chest. It was starting. “I…I understand, Ethan.” She smiled sadly. “But, can you wait until I fall asleep? Please?”

“Of course, my darling.” Ethan replied as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Lily smiled. “Thank you.”

They shifted so Lily’s back pressed into Ethan’s chest and he was spooning her, his arms around her. Lily held his arms and pressed further back into him, Ethan’s grip on her tightening. She tried to memorise this feeling of his arms around her. The feel on his breath on her neck and his skin on hers. God, she’d miss this. So damn much.

But she was grateful. Grateful to have had this at least. And knowing that even though they wouldn’t go beyond tonight, she knew that he would always be there when she needed him. And she would be there when he needed her.

Always.

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

If you have any requests, please send them in! It might take me time to get to but I would love to write more!

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#playchoices #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fic #ethan ramsey #open heart #larissa's fics #larissa's drabbles #thank you #playchoices fic #choices fic #playchoices one shot #choices one shot #pixelberry #choices #choices: stories you play

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

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The secrets are out (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! Anyone remember me? The last thing remember is wanting to post the next part of my AU on Christmas and now it’s the middle of February and I feel like a fool. I was literally in a hole of uni, time was not even a concept. I’ll try to get some fics more often and you know… OPEN HEART 2 COMES IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS SO IT’S GONNA SPARK MY BRAIN. It’s not going to be as often as it used to be, but I’ll try my best to give you what I feel you guys deserve.

This fic right here fits into the timeline in which Ethan and Claire are married before she works with him.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22760494

Tag list: @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

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They knew the day was coming. While at first it wasn’t hard to hide the fact that they were married, it became increasingly difficult to disguise the looks they were giving one another, the familiarity they felt when they were together.

Claire teased him about how he had to try and be more stern with her at times, that other interns were commenting on how he was a lot less angry with her. He smirked, saying how if she wanted him to be rude to her, she should have just asked, and then ripped her apart at morning rounds. So much so that she even had a single tear sting her eye for a moment. Later that night he told her that it was the worst thing he ever had to do, apologized, said that he felt horrible for the rest of the day and that she just had to be brilliant so he wouldn’t have to do it again.

“That is, more brilliant than you already are… if that’s even possible.” He muttered into her ear, earning him a bright smile on her face.

They had it all figured out. How to act around one another to not seem suspicious, how to talk to not sound like two lovestruck idiots that they definitely were. Things were about to get much more complicated for both of them, and they didn’t even think about setting up a game plan just in case.

Two lines.

She didn’t see him cry often. Come to think of it, she has seen him cry about two or three times. The first time was when he proposed, and she was in such a state of shock that she didn’t answer him for solid two minutes. The broken expression on his face broke her out of her trance, causing her to cry as well when she managed to choke out a breathless ‘yes’ and they were both an engaged mess that night. The second time Ethan Ramsey cried was when he saw her in her wedding dress. Admittedly, it wasn’t the traditional way that it happened, he stumbled into her room by accident and as soon as he saw her in her white gown, tears gathered in his eyes, and he needed at least two tissues.

“Good thing you don’t have any make-up on, or Louise would have had to kill you for crying.” Claire laughed as she helped him with wiping the tears off his face.

“Now I feel like a fool. How come I’m the only one crying and you’re holding yourself together?” he responded as he wrapped his arms around her gently, taking a closer look at her face.

“Sheer willpower to not get killed by my sister before I marry you.” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his delicately.

“If I say I was hoping for a kiss, would you laugh?”

“You’ll get one soon, have some patience.” She did laugh, as she pushed him out the door with a wink.

And now the third time. She could pinpoint the exact moment in which his brain registered what was happening, his eyes got glossy and a choked sob escaped his lips. He pressed his palm to her still flat stomach, touching the back of her head softly as he kissed her forehead, crying silently.

At that exact moment they didn’t know just how difficult for him it would be to keep himself away from her at work. The first few weeks seemed to fly, and they both seemed fine. That is, if one was to overlook how Ethan insisted on helping her walk the stairs any chance he got when they were alone or how he insisted on doing everything for her when they were at home. It seemed as though he was more terrified about the pregnancy than her.

Keeping quiet about it would prove to be more difficult than they both previously thought it would. Ethan had no self-control when it came to her wellbeing. All it took was for her to bump her shoulder into another doctor and he was all over her, checking urgently if she was hurt. If she thought he would calm down as time went on, she was in for a surprise. He didn’t. If anything, it got worse.

As she began showing, and her clothes had to become more loose, he began thinking how the hell were they going to explain it to basically everyone that she was pregnant without revealing their marriage. The thought of coming out with their relationship crossed his mind briefly, but after a conversation with her, they decided to put it off as much as they could. Or as long as mother nature would let them.

Her friends found out by accident. She made sure to change her clothes when no one was around, but that one time Sienna and Jackie came back for Sienna’s bag and they saw her stomach. A very weird conversation followed, and she had no choice but to tell them. As far as they knew she had a one-night stand and got pregnant by accident. They were all supportive and offered her their help, even if the urge to know who the father is was killing them on the inside.

Ethan thought it was the most sarcastic joke that the world could pull off. Claire found the whole situation more funny than concerning, but their secret was out. Just like that. He wanted to do it on their own terms, but as always, the universe had different plans.

Running kids were not a normal thing in the hospital, but as much as staff and parents tried to minimize that activity, there was only so much one could do. And if one wasn’t careful enough, there was bound to be an accident, much like the one Claire experienced. Everything happened so fast that most of the people in the hall didn’t even see the whole incident.

A kid was running from his friend, and as he was turning around to shout something, he bumped into Claire, sending her onto the floor with a surprised gasp. All she felt was a slight pain in the lower part of her back, but she was seven months pregnant so there was a possibility of damage to the baby that had to be considered. Before she could even think about getting up, she heard Ethan call her name with concern and horror coloring his voice. Not even a minute passed before he was by her side, running his hands all over her, making sure that she was in one piece before picking her in his arms.

“Those kids…” he muttered under his breath, causing Claire to giggle quietly.

“You do know that we have one of those on the way, right?”

“Oh trust me, I’m aware. But they’re not going to be knocking pregnant women over.” Ethan nudged his nose against her forehead, the lines of his lips turning into a teasing smirk that was barely visible.

While Ethan arranged a doctor to get Claire checked out, the hospital began gossiping, and by the time they were done with the appointment, everyone had their own theory about what exactly was between the two doctors. Them having an affair was the most popular one.

Naveen, being Naveen, knew about all the rumors, and called both of them to his office to figure out what they would do. He wasn’t the only one aware of what was happening, as Harper, Ines and Zaid knew too, but he didn’t see the need to call the other three for the meeting, as the whole circumstance didn’t concern them.

“We all know what’s about to happen. The question is, what do you want to do about it?” he started, leaning back into his chair, looking at the couple before him. Ethan’s arm was draped over Claire’s shoulder, stroking her arm gently, while his other hand was curling into a fist and relaxing. She saw his frustration and covered his hand with hers, smiling gently to offer support.

“How bad is it?” Claire’s voice was quiet, with underlying sense of pensiveness and weariness. It wasn’t easy to be that careful about her pregnancy, not to mention how cautious they had to be about their relationship, and now it has finally reached its peak.

“Half of the hospital thinks you two had an affair. Some people think you used her.” He pointed to Ethan, watching how his friend’s face stiffened, anger evident in his features. “Others think you’re the one that used him.” his focus shifted to Claire, which unsurprisingly got her even more upset. “Some of them don’t know what to think, and there are also us normal people, that are waiting for some explanation before making their mind up.”

“We don’t owe them a damn thing.” Ethan seethed, his teeth clenched as he got more and more outraged.

“It’s your decision. It’s up to both of you to make the decision. I’ll support you, whatever you two decide to do.”

Ethan stood up, pacing all over the room, pinching his nose as he tried to come up with something, anything, that would not end up blowing up in their faces. His own stupidity frightened him, he could feel frustration rising in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. How could he have let it happen? How was it possible that he, Ethan Ramsey, a man that had a strategy for most of the scenarios that could occur in his life, didn’t think how to handle the most important part of his life, that would very obviously cause confusion and possible problems later on should anyone find out the truth. How could he be so irresponsible?

“Ethan.” His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by his wife’s voice, breaking through the tempest of his insecurities and raging anger. He stopped pacing, the sweet silence fell upon his mind, and suddenly there was only her. There was nothing else in the whole world for him, nothing else mattered, only her and the immense love he had for her. She approached him slowly, her back hurting her more than before, resulting in the necessity for her to press a hand to the small of her back. Her feet touched his when she stood in front of him, but he was still not looking at her. He was ashamed, he felt like a failure; she could see it very clearly, and the closer to him she got, the more signs she noticed.

She placed her hand on his shoulder to keep herself balanced, brushing her other palm against his cheek, turning his head so their eyes would meet. Never before in her life had she seen him so upset, he was looking at her with so much shame that it almost overpowered the love she could still see there. Ethan leaned down, pressing their foreheads together in a moment of tender hush. The world could be falling apart and he would not notice, as long as he had her in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her slightly, careful to not cause her more pain. Claire shook her head, leaning back to look at him properly.

“I have no idea why you’re apologizing. You didn’t do anything… well, that’s not true. You are responsible for half of this baby, so there is that. And you’re also half of this marriage, so there is no walking out of that one either. And no, I don’t want you apologizing for either of those.” She teased him, achieving her goal to make him laugh. Pressing her lips to his cheek briefly, she walked them both back to their chairs.

Naveen remained quiet, watching the scene in front of him unveil. He’s spent enough time with the two to know that it was only a matter of time before Claire would figure out what to do, and then pull Ethan right along with her plan. He was stubborn, but when his wife was involved, the younger man transformed into an entirely different person.

“I’m tired of all that nonsense. I want to be able to hold your goddamn hand if I want to, I want to kiss you when I please and I don’t want to restrain myself. You’re my husband, but we’re acting like a pair of high schoolers that are scared of getting caught making out. We’re having a baby, there is no way I’m keeping you being a father a secret. So…” she spoke clearly, her hands gesturing lively. Turning to her husband, she took his hand in hers and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. “We’re gonna walk out of here, holding hands, and we’re not going to be trying to pretend like we barely know each other. We’re going to be together. We’re gonna be a family.”

“I quite like the sound of that.” He let out a relieved laugh, his expression softening when he saw Claire take her wedding ring off the necklace that she wore and handed it to him. He put it back on her finger, where it belonged, then kissed it, looking up at her with warm gaze. He let her pull him up from his chair and out the door. “Naveen?”

“Oh I’m definitely going with you. There is no way I’m missing that”

Ethan and Claire walked ahead of Naveen, giving the older doctor a chance to gauge reactions from people they passed by. Ethan’s arm was wrapped around her gently as the two spoke in a quiet manner, smiling brightly at an inside joke. From what The Chief of Medicine could notice, most people had to do a double take. A wave of whispers followed the three of them, which was to be expected, but it did nothing to put them at ease. There was no way of knowing how people would react, but as far as Naveen could see, neither of them seemed to notice the commotion around them.

Harper was standing by the nurse’s desk, signing off some paperwork, when a sound of whispers and gossip, like a wave, crashed into the room. From the scraps of the conversations around her she could vaguely make out what was happening, and once she saw Claire and Ethan walking down the hall, all was clear to her. Smirking to herself, she decided to help the pair along and make it a bit easier for everyone in the hospital.

“Claire! I heard you had an accident.” She called out to the blonde as she approached them, running her eyes along Claire to make sure she was fine.

“It wasn’t that bad, we’re fine. How could we not, Ethan didn’t let me make a single step without him by my side.” Her green eyes sparkled with confidence, turning to look at Ethan, whose eyes were already on her, one of the gentlest expressions taking over his features.

“Oh, right, you two are married. It’s kinda hard to remember that when you two are acting all…” Harper raised her voice a little, making sure to be heard, shaking her hand as though she was searching for a word to finish her sentence. “… professional.”

“Someone around here has to.” Ethan spoke up, looking away from his wife just in time to see Harper roll her eyes sarcastically.

“Sure. You are the most professional one here. I would never be able to pretend like I don’t know my spouse, let alone keep each other at the arm’s length once you ‘get to know each other.’, so you two are my heroes.” She looked between the two and then walked around them to stand next to Naveen. “That being said, I would never be able or willing to do that.”

Their conversation sparked interest among their surroundings, and in her peripheral vision Claire could see her friends, walking towards them with confusion on their faces. She excused herself, pointing towards the group, and Ethan pressed his lips to her forehead before letting her go, keeping a close eye on her in case something happened.

Sienna jumped to her side, helping her walk to the rest of their friends, smiling reassuringly at Ethan. Claire gave her a look of mock annoyance, knowing exactly what she was doing. Her friends were looking at her with confusion overtaking their faces, clearly waiting for some sort of an explanation.

“I’ll say it as simply as our current circumstances and amount of time allows me. I promise I’ll explain it further later, it’s just that we don’t have time now, and I need you to know what’s going on, okay?” Claire took a deep breath when all her friends nodded in agreement.

“Take your time… kind of.” Bryce nudged Jackie’s arm with her elbow, her form shaking in a quiet laugh. Claire joined her, nodding her head slightly.

“Okay, so… I assume you already know at least part of it. The pregnancy was not an accident… well, it wasn’t exactly planned either but-“

“Herondale, breathe. We get it, you didn’t plan on it but it happened and you’re happy, good for you. Who’s the father?” Jackie interrupted her, waving her hand in the air impatiently in the gesture to hurry her up.

“Ethan.” His name burst out of her lips before she could think of a way to deliver the news, but maybe it was for the best. Her friends had the reaction completely opposite to what she was expecting. They seemed… fine with it.

“Can’t say I didn’t expect it, honestly. I did catch him looking at you with something tender in his eyes but didn’t pay much thought to it. Guess I should have asked.” Elijah smiled teasingly at her, causing her cheeks to flush.

“There is something else.” Claire added, earning a collective groan from the group.

“Seriously, what else could there be?” Jackie whined, falling against the wall theatrically. It was at this exact moment that Ethan decided to join them, wrapping his arm around Claire’s back, asking quietly if she was okay. She nodded, leaning against him a little.

“I was just about to tell them about us.” Explaining, she nudged his side with her finger, indicating that he should be the one to break the news. Seeing him being reluctant, she whispered something about her telling them about the baby, so he didn’t really have a choice.

“Very well. We have been married for the past three years.” He tried to keep his tone still, but it proved to be impossible. Being able to finally say it felt liberating, like he was able to breathe again. Her friends were going through quite the opposite process at that exact moment, and there would have been more questions if it wasn’t for the fact that their pagers went off at the exactly same moment, summoning them to the opposite parts of the hospital.

“I’ll explain later, I promise!” Claire called out after them as they left the room, laughing under her breath, relief flooding her body.

Ethan observed his wife with curious eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, despite everything that happened that day. An idea formed in his mind and he smirked as he approached her. Not giving a damn about who saw them being a married couple felt like everything would be alright. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned down to kiss her gently before whispering, their eyes locked.

“Does that mean that you’ll finally let me escort you everywhere, so I’ll know you’re safe?”

“Absolutely not.”

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #mc x ethan #dr. ethan ramsey #playchoices #playchoices open heart #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #fanfiction #fic #fluff

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 29: Bad Blood

Snow looked at herself in the full length bathroom mirror and gently rubbed the towel through her wet hair. Her pixie cut had no signs of gray anymore, though before she had kept it dyed, taking advantage of this world's benefits in that respect. But there would be no need for that anymore. She then took a deep breath and opened her towel, looking at her body in the full length mirror on the back of the door. She knew Charming's words were true. He found her beautiful and sexy, this version and her older version. But she was still curious to see the changes that would be evident in her body.

She had done her best to stay trim and in shape over the years and time had been kind to her, actually. But there was still some noticeable difference. Her hips were still widened from pregnancy and she had subtle stretch marks on her belly from carrying Emma and a few on her thighs. But any wrinkling in her skin was gone and back to being much tighter than before. And her breasts...well, they were definitely perkier than they had been in years. She scoffed at herself. She was being really silly and her husband had already proved to her, more than once, how attractive he thought she was, even twenty-years older than him. And though she was grateful to have the twenty-years they lost essentially restored to her, she would always be grateful for her time with him as she was before. They had proven to all that their love was stronger and so much deeper than age and she liked that they could stick it to all those that had ever doubted them.

She had twenty-years to reflect on things that happened before the curse and the people she and Charming had surrounded themselves with in their court. Some of their trust was well placed and then there were sadly a few that she had serious questions about now.

Regina and Robin, of course, were always in their corner, as was Red and Granny. But she had some serious doubts now about the loyalty of the Blue Fairy and Geppetto. She knew August loved her and wanted nothing to do with them, but she had a feeling that Geppetto wasn't going to let her son be. In reality, she just wanted him to be happy and if that meant he wanted to forge some kind of relationship with the woodcarver, then she'd be happy for him. She knew that she was his Mom and that wasn't going to change. But they had betrayed her once and she would be lying if she said she didn't fear betrayal from them again. Archie had played a part in the lie too, though she had a feeling it had greatly troubled him. She wondered what they had done to convince him to go along with it.

Gently, she pulled her robe on and exited the bathroom. She spotted her husband locking up for the night and saw a text on her phone from her son. He was with Tink, which surprised her a bit, but then didn't. She had seen the signs of something between them. She just hoped Tink planned on sticking around. She feared for her son's heart if the fairy decided that Storybrooke wasn't for her.

"Everything okay?" David asked, as she looked up at him and she nodded.

"August...he's staying with Tink tonight," she mentioned. He smirked.

"You called that one," he said. She nodded.

"But that's not what has you so distracted," he added. She sighed.

"I'm just worried about him. I don't want him to feel like he's being pulled in a tug of war," she replied.

"August loves you. He's your son...because you raised him and Geppetto should be thanking you profusely. If he had sent August to this world by himself...that would have been pretty damaging. You're the reason that August is the man that he is," David reminded her.

"I know...and I can accept it if August wants Geppetto to be a part of his life, but I don't think Geppetto can accept me as a part of August's," she lamented.

"He doesn't have a choice and he's a fool if he can't see how lucky he was that you were there for August," David said.

"You raised two children by yourself. Look at the amazing people they are...because of you," he said.

"You are the most wonderful, amazing mother in all the realms," he said, as she swiped a tear away.

"I thought of you...every minute of every day. Any strength I had...I drew it from you and them. All for this moment...when we would finally be together again," she cried. He smiled.

"And we are. We did it, Snow. Cora is dead and nothing is ever tearing this family apart gain," he said passionately. She breathed in relief and lost herself in him, as their lips met passionately.

"I need you…" she begged, as she hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and he undid the cord of her robe. Their lips met again, as she fumbled with his belt and he pushed her robe into a puddle on the floor. She yelped, as he lifted her up and they fell to the bed for a bout of frenzied lovemaking.

~*~

Greg put down his phone, as he heard a knock at his door and got up to answer it. He thought it might be Tink again, but was shocked to find Tamara behind the door.

"Tamara…" he uttered.

"Surprised to see me?" she questioned.

"Uh yes, I didn't know you could even get here yet. I mean...without an enchanted object," he said, as she walked in without an invite.

"You mean like the enchanted map that you just gave back to the leaders of this town?" she questioned and he felt a ripple of fear slither down his spine. It was well known that Tamara was ruthless when she needed to be.

"I didn't have a lot of choice. I decided that giving it up was better than getting locked up like Detective Bishop," he covered quickly.

"I suppose you're right and so you know...it seems that whatever barrier was around this place before is gone now. Curious, isn't it?" she asked.

"It is…" he agreed.

"So...tell me everything so we can complete our mission here," Tamara said.

"What exactly is the mission?" he asked. She looked back at him.

"To destroy magic, of course. This town is lousy with it, especially now, isn't that right?" she asked.

"Maybe...but the evil is gone. I've found out that Cora was the reason for all the bad and the reason my father was killed. No further action is needed here," he replied. Tamara snorted.

"This town doesn't belong in this world! Magic...it's unholy," she argued.

"Look...I know that's what they've always told us, but the rest of the people here are innocent. The Evil Queen was the real evil and now that she's gone, there will be peace here," he insisted.

"Wrong...magic must be destroyed and the war has just begun," she replied, as she looked out the window.

"We can't hurt innocent people, especially for a cause that might have ill intentions. I've been talking to Tia…" he started to say, but she cut him off.

"You mean Tinkerbell?" Tamara questioned.

"She has a lot of reasons to hate magic too, but she made me see that Cora was the real villain and that there is no need to take it out on a town full of innocent people. She said that someone sinister is behind the Home Office," he explained.

"Oh did she?" Tamara asked.

"Think about it, Tamara...we get anonymous orders and we don't even know who is really running this thing. We're pawns," he replied.

"Maybe you're right…" she said, pretending to think for a moment. He sighed in relief, but then his eyes widened, as she pulled a gun on him and it was capped with a silencer.

"Guess it's checkmate for you," she said.

"No...Tamara, wait!" he cried, but there was no hesitation from her, as she laughed.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you," she said, as she pressed the barrel to his head.

"You're going to do that yourself," she said ominously.

~*~

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until morning to do this?" Robin asked, as they approached Cora's vault.

"No...those people out there deserve to have their hearts back sooner rather than later, especially Graham," Regina said. He nodded in agreement.

"My mother hurt so many people and destroyed so many lives," she added.

"She did...but she finally paid for it full," he said. She nodded.

"Besides, this place doesn't get any less creepy during the day so we might as well get this over with," she replied, as she used her magic to enter the vault. Since she was a blood relative, none of the protections her mother had on the vault hurt her or kept her out. Regina looked around, feeling the memories flood her mind. The way the wall full of small compartments breathed still sent chills down her spine. She peered into the potions cabinet and remembered watching her mother perform spells from behind the furniture in her den. She thought it was exciting at the time and long before she realized that all the things her mother did in that den would probably hurt people.

"Love...if you're not ready for this, we can wait," he said, as she was brought back to reality.

"No...the people that my mother took these from deserve to have them back," Regina said.

"It's a larger undertaking than I thought. She took so many," he mentioned.

"And she didn't bother to label them. Why would she? She never intended to return them. This is going to be harder than I thought," she said.

"Is there a way to identify who they might belong to?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yes, but it will require bringing each person here. So, first thing in the morning, we'll bring Graham here and find which heart is his," she said.

"And then we can summon anyone else that she stole from. She's gone, so there should be no fear in coming forward," she added. He smiled.

"That will at least be some of Cora's wrongs set right," he agreed, as they shared a kiss.

"Let's go home," he suggested, as they joined hands and left the vault and its contents behind for the night.

~*~

"And that's pretty much the story," Tink said, as she finished telling him.

"But you knew that...you're the author," she reminded him. He smiled.

"I know...doesn't mean I didn't want to hear about it directly from you," he mentioned.

"I guess my Mom and David aren't the only people Blue screwed over," he said bitterly.

"She's the worst," Tink agreed.

"I can't believe she stole your wings. We should make her give them back," he said, but the blonde shook her head.

"No...it's okay. I'm okay not being a fairy anymore. I made peace with it," she replied.

"So...now that the curse is broken, do you think Pan will mobilize his minions?" August asked.

"He'll try...but to be honest, not even I know what he's after here in Storybrooke other than the magic of some kind," she replied.

"Yeah…I guess we'll have to ask Gold tomorrow. He might know more. Until then...do you wanna get a drink?" he asked. She smiled, as they stopped in front of the Rabbit Hole.

"A seedy tavern…" she said.

"You certainly know the way to this girl's heart, though I'm pretty sure I can drink you under the table," she warned. He chuckled.

"I'm sure you can," he agreed, as they went inside.

~*~

A few hours later, the loft was dark and silent, as Snow and Charming slept soundly, spooned together after their blissful coupling earlier. A soft rapping though pulled Snow from her sleep and she gently sat up, covering her unclothed body with the sheet. She smiled fondly at her sleeping husband and gently traced a finger along the side of his handsome face. But then she heard the rapping again and got out of bed quietly. She found her robe and put it on, before tying it and hurrying to the door. She thought maybe it was August and he had forgotten his key or something, but she was shocked to find Geppetto was behind it.

"Geppetto…" she uttered in surprise, as she tucked the top of her robe a little tighter. Snow was never one for most of the rules or pomp that came with being a royal. After all, she and Charming regularly broke the appropriate etiquette against public displays of affection and she had tossed away all tradition when she married her beloved shepherd. But still...it was highly inappropriate of Geppetto to confront her in what was essentially her bed chambers in the middle of the night. She was still a Princess and believed she deserved her privacy, especially with her husband. Even by Land Without Magic rules, he was being inappropriate, but by the stern look on his face, it seemed that all pleasantries were lost on him.

"I believe we should talk," he said.

"Perhaps...but I don't think it's necessary to do so at two-thirty in the morning," she replied, but he pushed passed her without invitation.

"Please...come right in," she muttered sarcastically, before closing the door.

"I am sorry, but I need to see my son. I cannot wait until morning, because he will not answer my calls," the woodcarver stressed.

"August isn't here…" she replied. He looked at her in surprise.

"Not here? Why is he not here? Like you said, it's two-thirty in the morning?!" he hissed.

"August is a grown man. He's twenty-seven years old and if he chooses to spend his evenings with someone special, then I will neither object or interfere," Snow responded sternly.

"He should have come home with me!" Geppetto cried.

"August is an adult...it has to be his choice," she replied.

"Then you have to convince him to talk to me!" he insisted.

"I have encouraged him to forgive you, but he has to work out his grievances on his own. I can't force him. But I know my son…" she said, but he cut her off.

"He is my boy!" he said hotly and she recoiled.

"He is my boy…" he lamented sadly.

"He is also my son…" she said sternly.

"And I know August…" she said, but was interrupted again.

"Pinocchio! His name is Pinocchio!" Geppetto insisted.

"No...his name is August and I am his mother. I know that's hard for you...but you have no idea what we've both been through. The world out there...it was no picnic," Snow said sharply.

"And I am grateful that my boy had you. But now it is time that he come back where he belongs," Geppetto replied.

"Except that it doesn't work like that. I am his mother now and I can't just let him go, nor will I. August will come around on his own and I know him...he'll forgive you, but not if you tell him he has to push away the only family he knows just to be with you," Snow admonished.

"We can all be a family though. You'd be more than welcome to join us at meals and get to know August again," she offered.

"This is not how it's supposed to be!" he said in frustration.

"I'm sorry...but August was always going to grow up. You must have known that when you put him through the wardrobe," Snow replied.

"But I did not expect you to turn him against me!" he accused.

"I did not turn him against you!" she insisted.

"He wants nothing to do with me!" he snapped.

"You just have to give him time," Snow said.

"That's easy for you to say! You've had him for twenty-years!" Geppetto replied.

"You keep saying you are his mother...but you are not! You were to care for him for me and then give him back!" he ranted irrationally.

"If you raise your voice to my wife once more, you will not like where it takes you," David's voice interjected and Geppetto looked up to see the very stern stare of Prince Charming glaring daggers at him.

"I trusted you to raise my boy…" the old wood carver fretted, as David gently put his arms around her.

"And she did and she raised him into a wonderful, loving man. You should be thanking her profusely that she was there for your son and he wasn't alone," David defended.

"And I am! But now I am here and he does not want me! You told your daughter all about her father...yet you told mine nothing of his!" Geppetto accused.

"That isn't true! I told him how much you loved him and that you did what you did, because you were scared for him," Snow insisted.

"Yet your daughter got stories about her father's heroics," he countered.

"My daughter got stories of the truth and so did my son," she retorted.

"You betrayed me," Geppetto accused.

"She betrayed you!?" David growled.

"Did you seriously just say that!?" the prince cried.

"You lied to us! But we love August and we are more than willing to forgive that, because we know you did what you did out of fear to protect your child! But how dare you accuse my wife of betraying you!" he hissed.

"She would have been your Queen...how dare you stand there and cast aspersions on her," he spat.

"Get out of our house," David demanded. Geppetto wisely backpedaled and exited their home. Snow broke down in tears once he was gone and turned in his arms, as he pillowed her against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her hair and stroked her back. He was seething, but he pushed his own anger away and focused on comforting her.

"Mom? Dad?" Emma called from the top of the stairs, as she padded down with little David in her arms.

"Oh honey...I'm sorry, did we wake him?" she asked.

"No...pretty sure it was the jerk that barged in here in the middle of the night," Emma answered.

"Yeah...he won't be doing that again if he knows what's good for him," David said.

"Yeah…August is going to be pissed," Emma mentioned. Snow sniffed.

"Maybe we shouldn't tell him...I don't want to make things worse between him and Geppetto," she lamented.

"Geppetto did that...not you, Mom," Emma admonished.

"And like it or not, you're his Mom and he's my brother. He's going to have to accept that if he ever wants a relationship with August," she added. David kissed her hair again.

"She's right," he agreed.

"Nana?" little David cooed.

"See...even the kid agrees that you're the best," Emma said. David smiled, as they hugged her between them. Snow sniffed and looked at her family fondly. All the hardships she had endured were suddenly worth it just for that moment.

"I'll make us some cocoa and then we can all try to go back to sleep," David said, as he kissed her tenderly and went to the kitchen. Snow watched him fondly and then cuddled on the couch with her daughter and grandson.

~*~

Neal rubbed his tired eyes and padded downstairs to the kitchen and was surprised to see Belle up and making tea in her robe.

"Oh…I didn't know anyone was up," he said awkwardly. She smiled.

"That's okay...would you like some tea?" she asked.

"Sure…" he replied, as he sat down at the table.

"Where's dad? I mean, of anyone that should be up, it's usually him," he replied.

"He is...he's down in the basement," she replied.

"In the potions lab," he muttered and she nodded.

"So...you and my dad? How did that happen?" he asked bluntly. She smiled.

"Well…it started with me as his prisoner," she replied.

"Of course it did," he deadpanned.

"But...you know, then I started to see that there was more than just the beast on the surface. Cora kidnapped me though, before we could really explore our feelings and let him think I was dead," she explained.

"Yeah…I think she is one person that no one is going to blame if they want to dance on her grave," he quipped. Belle snorted.

"No argument there," she agreed, as his phone chimed and he checked it.

Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Uh yeah...just Emma. I guess Geppetto showed up accusing Snow of turning August against him. David threw him out," he mentioned.

"That awful," Belle said.

"The wood carver has no place in August's life anymore," Rumple mentioned, as he came upstairs.

"He's mostly harmless though, right?" Belle asked.

"On his own yes...but with the Blue Fairy on his side, don't be so sure," he replied pointedly. Neal knew his father hated the Blue Fairy and never really knew why. But Emma's family was his too and that included August. If she was a danger to them...then Neal would definitely be keeping an eye on them both...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Emma Swan #August W. Booth #Neal Cassidy #Tinkerbell #Swanfire #Wooden Fairy #OQ #Rumbelle #CORA cast the curse #AU #romance #adventure #family #a darker curse

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @whateverrrrwhatever!

For @whateverrrrwhatever, Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy! :) <3

Read on AO3

*****

Christmas Kisses

Derek pulled his truck to the side of the road, and pushed it into park. He stared at the sign in front of him, a tightness in his chest.

Welcome to Beacon Hills.

What the fuck was he thinking?

Derek sucked in a ragged breath, letting go of the wheel to rub at his eyes.

He was thinking he had no where else to go. Cora was officially married into a new pack. None of the relationships he’d had in the last ten years had made him want to… stay. He’d been wandering around long enough.

It was time to do what his dreams kept showing him. It was time to rebuild on his family’s land.

But ten years was a long time. And he hadn’t spoken to anyone from Beacon Hills since he left.

Dragging in another breath, Derek dropped his hand and looked up. The sign still looked back at him, but it looked… almost cheerful. It looked intact, at least. Maybe Beacon Hills wasn’t that bad anymore. Maybe all the hunters and werewolves and supernatural creatures had moved away. Maybe everyone he’d met here was long gone by now, and Derek was worrying about nothing. That was most likely, right? Ten years was a long time. Scott McCall and Chris Argent and… Stiles. They had probably all left.

He didn’t know why that thought made his chest tighten even more.

A flash of light brought Derek out of his thoughts, and he cursed when he saw it was a deputy’s car pulling up behind him. He pushed down his window when he heard the sound of a car door open and close, fully prepared to just get this over with and then turn the car around to put Beacon Hills behind him again once and for all.

But then his eyes widened when a familiar scent hit his nose.

“Hey, buddy, can I see your licence and- holy shit, Derek?”

They stared at each other, both of their eyes wide in surprise. Stiles was dressed as a deputy, all grown up and grown into an adult uniform. He looked… good. He looked great, actually. Derek tore his eyes away from him, looking down at his own scruffy leather jacket and jeans. His beard hadn’t been trimmed in weeks. He probably looked a mess.

Derek cleared his throat and got a hold of himself, he forced his eyes back up. “Stiles.”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Stiles coughed, he looked a little dazed. Like he’d seen a ghost… though in some ways, he kind of had. Ten years was a long time.

Then suddenly, Stiles head looked sharply behind them, grabbing the receiver strapped to his shoulder. “Parrish stand down, it’s only Derek.”

“Derek who?” A disjointed voice asked through the speaker.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Derek Hale. The wolf from years ago? Owns half of the preserve?”

Parrish? A vague memory of a deputy with some sort of supernatural powers came to mind. Apparently more people had stayed in Beacon Hills than he thought.

“Copy that,” the voice said before going silent. Stiles rolled his eyes again.

“Sorry, my partner can get a bit protective,” he grinned at Derek then, the same grin that Derek remembered from all those years ago. “How are you, man? What are you doing here, parked illegally right outside of BH?”

“I’m…” Derek flexed his fingers awkwardly against the wheel. “I’m good. I’m back.”

“Back? Like you’re moving back to Beacon Hills?”

Derek nodded, “yeah.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” Stiles said, causing Derek’s breath to catch. Did he… really want Derek to move back? After everything he’d put them through? “Scott’s still the Alpha around here, you should give him a call, make like a peace treaty or whatever. Hell, rejoin the pack if you really want to dive right back into it.”

Rejoin the pack? Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles had pulled out a notepad and was writing frantically on it.

Derek didn’t recall ever being considered part of the pack in the first place though.

“Not that there’s much to dive back into, most of the pack action nowadays involves bowling competitions or card games, but it’s a hell of a lot less stressful than the shit we did in highschool. Anyway - this is Scott’s number, this is mine, and this is my address if your doing what I think your doing and planning on sleeping in an abandoned building instead of, say, a place with an actual functional roof.”

Derek grunted when Stiles shoved the paper through the window. He wasn’t about to tell Stiles that was, in fact, his plan… at least for the first few nights.

“Tough luck, bucko, ten years changes a lot. Most of those old rundown places have been renovated now. You’ll just have to sleep on my couch if you’re unwilling to sleep in the motel. Which I don’t blame you for, the motel is creepy as fuck.”

“Um,” Derek stared down at the paper, at Stiles swirly familiar writing with an address and phone numbers written on it. “Thank you.”

Stiles smiled at him, “no problemo, pal.” He tapped the top of Derek’s truck. “Now get out of here, you’re not allowed to park here.”

“Right.”

Stiles gave him an awkward salut wave… thing, and then he walked out of eyesight.

Derek started his engine and drove away before Stiles even got into the car.

–

Derek drove until he got to his old family home, or at least where it used to be. The city had sent him a demolition notice years ago and he hadn’t bothered to reply. It was good that it was gone now. Nothing bad could happen if it was nothing but a hole in the ground.

He wasn’t planning on building here, but farther in. Closer to the river that ran through the preserve. Farther from the road.

Derek slept in his truck that night, curled up in his reclined chair. He regretted it as soon as he woke up, his back spasming and his mouth tasting like dirt. He was getting too old to do this.

Grabbing a bottle to swish the taste out of his mouth, Derek stared at the hole in front of him. He thought of maybe planting a garden here, when he was done with the house. Or making a makeshift pond, for the wildlife. California was always in a drought, it seemed, they would probably appreciate the extra water.

He’d think about that later. First, he had to relearn his territory.

Derek spent most of the day walking the length of his land, his senses heightened and his blood thrumming in his veins. It felt good, to walk these paths again. Felt like he was coming home, for the first time in years.

He ended in the clearing beside the river. The one he wanted his new house to be built.

It would be smaller, but more protected. Homier, if it went the way Derek wanted. He hoped the bushes along the east side could be saved, as they grew berries every summer. He could bake the pies his grandmother used to bake.

He could settle here, be happy here. He felt it in his bones.

With a final nod, he walked away, feeling like he’d made the first right decision in a decade.

–

Derek called Scott, who simply said that Stiles had told him all about it already, and that of course Derek could stay as long as he wanted. No questions asked. No concerns voiced. No… demand for a treaty, or request to join the town’s established pack.

Just a, “no worries, man, I’m sure I’ll see you around!”

The whole conversation only lasted two minutes, but it left him reeling.

Scott hadn’t sounded angry, or even annoyed, to hear from him… he’d actually sounded kind of happy. Scott and Stiles had done a lot of growing up while he was gone, it was going to take some getting used to.

After that he wandered around the town, taking note of what changed and what hadn’t. Stiles had been right, all of the places Derek had stayed in before were gone. The old train depot was now a restaurant. His warehouse that he’d sold was a renovated apartment building.

Stiles had been right about something else too… the motel was creepy. And it smelled like mold, from the parking lot.

He climbed back into his truck and tapped the wheel, his eyes on the paper he’d shoved into his cup holder. Stiles had offered but… he hadn’t really been expecting Derek to show up at his house, surely.

But then… when did Stiles ever do anything he didn’t want to?

And Derek didn’t want to put his back through the pain of sleeping in his truck again. Or at least, that’s what he was telling himself.

The address Stiles had given him was only a few streets down from his old house. The building was smaller, but still had the same feeling to it. Still made Derek’s shoulder’s relax, and his grip on the wheel loosen. It wasn’t exactly the home he’d been picturing for a 27 year old man, but it fit, somehow. More so than an apartment building, or a basement suite. Stiles, for some reason in Derek’s mind, should live in a home with an apple tree in the yard, and a potted plant by the front door.

It suited him.

Or at least, he thought it did. Until he saw the pink bike leaning against the garage door.

Frowning, Derek double checked the address. This was the right place and, when he opened the door, it did smell like Stiles. Maybe that was a neighbors bike? A friends kid?

Derek shook his head, he supposed it didn’t really matter. Stiles blue Jeep, miraculously still working apparently, was parked in the driveway, so Derek went to the door. He only hesitated a moment before knocking.

A small girl answered the door.

“Hi!” She said, looking up with Derek with big round eyes.

“Um, hi.” Derek glanced around, “sorry, I have the wrong house.”

“This is the Stilinski residence,” the girl chirped, like she was answering a phone call, “who are you looking for?”

Derek blinked. This was the Stilinski residence?

“Derek, hey!” Stiles appeared behind the girl, and suddenly everything clicked. The two of them had the same hair, the same pale skin, the same moles. The only explanation was this was Stiles daughter.

Stiles was a father.

And Derek had showed up at his house, planning on… thinking he would… he didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to do it now, obviously.

“Dude, come on in,” Stiles waved him in, and Derek followed the motion wordlessly. The girl pointed to where Derek could leave his coat and shoes, so he did that too.

Next thing he knew, he was sitting down at a small round table in the middle of a kitchen, being served pasta with the two of them.

“Um..”

“Daddy’s spaghetti and meatballs is the best. Don’t worry, you’ll like it,” the girl told him seriously, before starting to shovel food into her mouth.

Derek blinked down at his bowl again, “um, thank you.”

Stiles sat down beside him, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned…” he waved his hand vaguely around the table, in a very Stiles like gesture that Derek had missed. “Though to be fair, I didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer.”

Derek’s chest tightened, “I can leave.”

“No, no, not what I meant. Just, now I need to do some, you know, intros,” Stiles cleared his throat. “This is Matty, my daughter. Matty, this is Derek, an old friend of mine.”

Matty waved at him from across the table, Derek nodded back awkwardly. A daughter, confirmed. A daughter that looked… what, eight? He didn’t know, but she looked around that age. She looked like a mini version of Stiles, sitting here inhaling her dinner while watching everything Derek did.

Except for her eyes. Her eyes are hazel, and sharp in a way that would cut through anything put in front of her. They reminded him of someone… but it wasn’t Stiles.

Matty swallowed her mouth full of food, “are you a werewolf?”

Derek’s brows rose. Though he supposed with Stiles as her father, he shouldn’t be surprised. “Yes.”

Matty nodded, like she knew this already. “My names really Matilda, because Daddy says I’m the smartest girl in the whole wide world. Even smarter than Mommy, and she’s won awards for being smart!”

A woman whose won awards for being smart, and had sharp hazel eyes?

Lydia Martin.

Because of course it was Lydia. Who else would Stiles ever have a child with?

“I go by Matty though, because it sounds better,” Matty finished, going back to her food. Derek just nodded. Apparently him being a werewolf was less important than telling him about her name… this was…

This was definitely Stiles daughter.

–

The night was illuminating, to say the least. Stiles was a good dad. A great dad. He knew what Matty needed before she did. He had her milk refilled before she even noticed it was empty. He had her colouring at the kitchen table, giggling at the Spongebob pictures, while he cleaned up the kitchen.

Derek coloured with her too, at her request. He even got to colour in Sandy who was, apparently, the best character in the show.

Stiles had Matty prepped and ready for school the next day by 6:30, had her curled up and cuddled for ‘getting sleepy time’, but 7:30.

She was asleep by 8.

He fell onto the couch next to Derek in clear exhaustion, but he smelled happy. Happier than he ever had before.

“I hope the couch is okay. Don’t really have any other space here. I know it’s not as big as my dad’s house, but I can’t really afford -”

“No, it’s… thank you. The couch is fine.”

Stiles smiled at him. Wordlessly, he turned on the TV. They sat together in comfortable silence, reruns of an old sitcom playing. Only an hour later Stiles headed to bed himself, telling Derek he was welcome to their shower and anything in the kitchen if he needed it.

Derek lied on the couch, with a blanket and pillow that smelled of Stiles and Matty, wondering what else he had missed in the last ten years.

–

The next day, Stiles was up at 6:45, and Matty was up at 7:15. They had a very loud breakfast of toast, bacon and eggs in the kitchen. Derek knew all of this because he lay awkwardly on the couch and watched it happen. The living room was really more like an extension of the kitchen, with only the kitchen table creating a divide. He was happy observing them though. He was enjoying watching Stiles be a dad.

Well, he was, until Matty saw him lying on the couch with his eyes open.

“Derek! You’re awake!” She came running into the room. “Come have breakfast with us!” She grabbed his hand and tugged, showing no fear at all that he was a beta werewolf that could very easily toss her to the side.

He finally stood to to let Matty drag him to the kitchen, and he found Stiles watching them from the counter. His eyes showed no fear of Derek either. If anything, he looked wistful. Derek felt a tug in his chest, and he looked away, down at the table piled with bacon and eggs. When he looked back, Stiles was smiling at Matty again, asking her to get their plates.

Maybe he’d imagined that wistful expression. Maybe Derek had just wanted him to look like that because… because Derek wanted him to.

“Derek, you can butter the toast,” Stiles said, moving to help Matty set the table.

Derek swallowed, it was too early in the morning to be worrying about what Stiles looks meant. He dutifully went to the toaster, grabbing the pieces that flew out when they were done.

Matty ate breakfast standing on her chair, excitedly telling them both what she was going to be doing in school that day.

Stiles shoots him an apologetic smile, but Derek shook his head. It was nice to be in such a lively house again. It felt like a real home.

“And next week we get to go to the Gingleberry Farm, and Mrs. West said I can be the one to feed the chickens if I want to because I got all the questions right on my sheet, and I raised my hand the fastest when she asked if any of us wanted to feed the chickens. I bet we’ll all get to feed them if we want, but I get to feed them first. And then after that we get to see the pigs and-”

Derek smiled down at his breakfast. He could almost picture a small version of Stiles doing the same thing when he was this age. Hell, he could remember a sixteen year old Stiles, acting exactly like this whenever a new supernatural creature caught his attention.

“Alright, my little gingleberry, finish your breakfast. We gotta go in five minutes.”

“Daddy,” Matty laughed, “Gingleberry is a name, it’s not a real berry.”

“What?” Stiles frowned at her, “next you’re going to tell me a Flafahorn isn’t a real type of goat.”

“Daddy! You just made that word up!”

“Psh, I did not. The Flafahorn is a beautiful creature that doesn’t deserve your doubt. Back me up here, Der.”

They both turned to Derek, Matty’s eyes full of laughter, and Stiles full of amusement, but also a bit of tension. He probably didn’t think Derek would actually play along with his game.

But he could do this. This is something he’d learned to do with his younger sisters after all…. A lifetime ago.

Derek nodded seriously, “it’s true, Matty, the Flafahorn is a kind of goat that is about the size of a mouse,” Derek cupped his hands together.

Matty’s eyes narrowed skeptically, and Stiles was watching him like he had two heads. Derek ignored him though, his eyes on Matty.

“Really?” Matty asked.

“Of course, they live all around the world. Do you know where their favorite place is though?”

“Where?”

“The inside of little kids shoes.”

Matty blinked, and then started giggling, “noo! You’re making this up! Shoes are smelly.”

Derek nodded, “true they are, but the Flafahorn goats like that. The smellier the better, that’s why little kid shoes are the best. Because little kids have the smelliest feet.” He wrinkled his nose up at that, and Matty giggled again.

“Ew, Derek! I don’t have smelly feet.”

Derek shrugged, “better hurry up and finish your breakfast then, so you can go check your shoes. A Flafahorn might be in there right now, having a nice nap in your sneakers.”

Matty looked at him, and then looked at Stiles who didn’t seem to know what to make of any of this so he nodded. She turned back to her plate to shove all of her eggs in her mouth, chugged her orange juice, and then ran to the front door.

“Daddy! I need to check my shoes!” She shouted behind her.

Stiles shook his head, a smile growing across his face, “oh my God, I don’t even know who you are right now.”

Derek smiled, watching Matty peer into every shoe lined up beside the front door. “I used to do this with my sisters. Cora believed for years that a troll would move into her room unless she kept it clean.” Derek smiled at the memory. “She almost broke my arm when she was thirteen and she realized I’d made the whole thing up.”

“Trolls,” Stiles snorted, “Flafahorn goats, Jesus, what are you going to pull out next?”

Stiles stood up and started to collect the dishes, but Derek stood up as well and stopped him. “I can do this, go take Matty to school.”

“Wha- are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine, I got this. It’s the least I can do.”

“Derek.”

“Stiles,” Derek lifted a brow. Stiles snorted.

“I don’t know how I forgot about those things,” Stiles nodded up at Derek’s forehead. “I used to be able to have full conversations with them.”

“I’m sure you still can. Now go, I got this.”

“Okay,” Stiles moved out of the kitchen, grabbing two lunch bags on the way. “Okay, um, stay here as long as you like, there’s a spare key by the front door if you need to go anywhere though, um… we don’t have much food, but feel free to take whatever.” Stiles hesitated another moment, before he did his strange salut thing again and left to help Matty into her coat and backpack.

Matty mostly needed the help because she was still peering into shoes, but she left a second later without a fuss.

Derek watched them get into the car through the front window, and then turned to the kitchen. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to get everything tidied up again, and he did notice in that time that there was barely any food in the fridge. Just eggs, juice, and half a container of yogurt.

He thought of going out and buying more, but he didn’t want to cross any lines. Stiles was being nice enough letting Derek stay here as it was.

After the kitchen was clean, Derek wandered around the house, looking at the pictures on the wall he’d noticed before but hadn’t wanted to look at with Stiles standing right there.

They were mostly of Stiles and Matty. A few of the two of them with the Sheriff. A few with Scott, who he supposed was Uncle Scott to Matty, Kira and Malia. A group shot with Stiles, Matty, the Sheriff, Scott, Kira, Parrish, Malia, Lydia, and a few people he couldn’t name, including a few other kids. It looked like a pack picture. They all looked really happy.

Derek was glad for them. Beacon Hills deserved to have a happy pack in it again.

There was also a picture of Stiles and Lydia, holding a very small baby version of Matty between them on a hospital bed. So, that confirmed that. That was the only other picture with Lydia though, aside from the pack picture, and he didn’t see any other signs of Lydia in the house.

Derek didn’t want to assume what that meant though.

The Stiles in the picture looked more like the Stiles he knew. The teenager who had his hair spiked up in a mess, and who wore colourful plaid shirts every day.

And with Matty being about eight now… Stiles must have been young when they had her. That would have been hard.

He wondered what it would have been like if Derek had been there to help. If Derek had-

Derek shook the thought away and moved on to the rest of the house. Though, it was really just the living area, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms. It was small, but it was cozy. Derek didn’t think Stiles had anything to be ashamed of living here.

He left before he fell to the urge to look into Stiles room. Stiles was an adult now, and Derek didn’t want to be the creep sneaking through his room again. They’ve grown. He was better than that.

He locked the door behind him, and sighed.

It was time for him to find a place to live.

–

Derek found a studio apartment that would let him move in at the end of the week. It was even furnished, which would be nice. And it was only a five minute drive from Stiles and Matty’s house… not that that mattered.

He found a construction crew who was willing to meet with him in two days to discuss his plans to build on his family land. Money wasn’t an issue, and Derek mostly needed the man power otherwise this could take him years on his own.

After that, he wasn’t sure what to do, so he decided to try out one of the new restaurants he saw in the downtown of Beacon Hills.

He was surprised to see Malia standing beside the front door when he walked in.

“Oh my God, Derek! Kira, Derek’s here!”

Kira came running out of the back, her hair tied up and an apron over her front. He stood still in surprise as both of the women circled him in a hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Derek!” Kira said. “Sit, sit, what can we get you?”

“Um,” Derek moved where Malia dragged him, sitting down at the table closest to the kitchen. He stared blankly at the menu Malia dropped in front of him. “I don’t know. Whatever you like, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ll go tell Casey to whip it up. Malia, get him water or something.”

The two of them left, and Derek looked around the restaurant. Most of the tables were full, but none of the customers seemed all that confused by Malia and Kira’s behaviour. Maybe this was normal?

Malia came back with three waters, and Kira came back a second later with her apron and hairnet off.

Apparently they were having lunch together.

It was a very informative lunch. The two of them told Derek how in the last ten years, it has been mostly peaceful in Beacon Hills. Everything calmed down seven years ago, after Lydia found a way to heal the Nemeton, and that had stopped the pull of other supernatural’s from coming here.

The pack had grown, and they were healthy and strong. Everyone had been able to move on, go to school and get real jobs. Kira and Malia had opened their restaurant. Stiles had become a cop. Scott now worked as the couch and science teacher at the high school.

“Science teacher?” Derek frowned, that was not what he had pictured Scott being.

“Yeah well,” Malia shrugged, “vet school takes forever, and he’s the Alpha. He kind of needs to be here.”

“Plus, I think this suits him better,” Kira smiled. “You should come by our house sometime! We have pack dinners every Sunday in our backyard, you should come.”

Derek frowned, “your house?”

“Yeah. It’s custom for the Alpha to host, you know how it is.”

“Oh, you and Scott,” Derek felt his ears warm. “Sorry, I thought you and Malia… nevermind.”

Kira and Malia shared a smirk, “no you’re right, we are. The three of us live together, with our two kids.”

Derek was sure his ears were bright red now. “Oh.”

Malia laughed, but Kira just smiled at him. Until she checked the time. “Speaking of, I have to go pick those two up from school, Matty too. I’m bringing them all here, after we head to the park for a bit, if you’re sticking around?”

Derek shook his head, “I should go. Thank you though, this was great.” He pulled out his wallet, but Malia batted his hand away.

“Our treat,” she said. “A welcome home gift.”

–

Derek sat in his truck, tapping his fingers against the wheel.

Ten years.

Eight year old Matilda Stilinski.

Seven years of peace with a healed Nemeton.

It didn’t take a genius to do the math. Lydia cured the town for her daughter. She probably spent her first year figuring it out, so Matty didn’t have to live in fear. Didn’t have to grow up like all the rest of them grew up… fighting evil every other day.

But then why wasn’t Lydia here now? Derek didn’t miss the fact that she was left out of a lot of Malia and Kira’s stories. She wasn’t in the pictures on Stiles walls. And aside from the one comment last night, Matty didn’t talk about her either.

And Kira was going to pick Matty up from school. Because Stiles was still at work and… who else was going to do it? The Sheriff was probably still working too, and Stiles didn’t have anyone else.

That wasn’t entirely true though. He had the pack now, and the pack was looking after Matty.

Derek tapped on his wheel twice more, and then made a decision.

If the pack was going to go out of their way to help Matty and Stiles, Derek could too.

He started up his truck and headed for the grocery store, to buy the food he knew Stiles and Matty didn’t have.

–

Derek was just putting the casserole into the oven when Matty and Stiles came home. Matty ran to her room, shouting something Derek didn’t understand. Stiles moved at a slower pace, taking off his shoes and lining Matty’s up with his beside the door before he straightened up and entered the kitchen.

Derek saw the moment Stiles understood what was happening, because Stiles suddenly looked like he was about to cry.

“I, uh, made a macaroni casserole,” Derek said, hoping he hadn’t done the wrong thing. “Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Stiles laughed, but his eyes were still shiny. “Dude, my kitchen is the cleanest it’s been since… since I moved in, and you have dinner cooking already, and you’re asking me if that’s okay?”

“I, uh,” Derek reached out to straighten a dish towel. “I hope Matty likes macaroni. I made sure it had vegetables in it.”

Stiles didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he stepped forward and engulfed Derek in a hug.

His second hug today.

“This is amazing, Derek, thank you.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles gently, feeling his muscles relax in Stiles hold. This was the type of hug he used to long for. The type that brought comfort, after a long day.

They only pulled apart when Matty came waltzing into the kitchen, paper and pencil crayons in her arms.

“Derek, draw me a Flafahorn, I need to know what it looks like if I’m going to find one.”

Derek raised his brows, and looked over at Stiles, who was already watching him. They shared a smile. Stiles eyes looked less watery now. They looked like they were sparkling with joy.

Derek wished they could always look like that.

He sat down and picked up a purple pencil crayon, making up the imaginary goat as he went along. He smiled when Stiles sat down beside him and followed his lead, creating a picture that looked almost identical to Derek’s, with just a few added spots and horns.

Matty, her tongue sticking out in concentration, followed along, and soon enough it was more about the drawings, and less about the Flafahorn goats.

Derek felt happier than he could ever remember being.

–

Derek moved into his apartment that weekend, but not much changed. He still made the effort to go to the Stilinski’s every night to make dinner. He still spent his evenings colouring with Matty, going on walks to the park, watching movies on their couch.

And somehow, Derek found himself being invited to everything else as well.

He was asked to join the weekly Wednesday night dinners at the Sheriff’s house. He was invited along to Matty’s Thursday softball games, and the Stilinski Friday night movie marathons.

It was… nice. Special.

Every time Derek worried he was overstepping his welcome, Stiles would catch his eye and smile. Or Matty would grab his hand and pull him to her next adventure.

He was helping them, and they were helping him. Like pack. For the first time since Erica and Boyd… Derek felt like he had pack again.

On the weekends, Derek often took them to the preserve to see how the new house was going, or simply to walk around the Hale land for fun.

And every Sunday night, they went to the pack dinner at Malia, Kira and Scott’s house.

He was always surprised how easily he was welcomed there.

Parrish passed him and Stiles a beer each as soon as they stepped into the backyard. Matty ran to join Robin and Elliot’s game of… something involving throwing, in the corner of the yard. Derek kept an eye on that while Stiles went to find Scott. He knew it was probably harmless, but Robin and Elliot were 5 year old werewolves. He didn’t want Matty to get hurt.

“You’re good for them,” a voice said behind him.

Derek turned in surprise when then Sheriff stepped up next to him. “Um, sorry?”

The man chuckled, “you’re good for them, Matty and Stiles. Matty’s laughing more now than I’ve ever seen her, and Stiles doesn’t have bags under his eyes anymore.” He clapped Derek on the shoulder, “I was working myself up to asking him to move back in with me but… I don’t think I have to now.”

Derek blinked, surprised. Stiles did seem more tired now, less stressed, but Derek didn’t think he’d done enough for his father to notice.

A warm feeling of pride burned in his belly, glad that he’d been able to help his pack like this.

“Come on, the kids are fine,” the Sheriff directed him back towards the house, “tell me all the updates for the new house of yours.”

Derek started talking about how the walls were finished, but now they needed to start electric and plumbing. He grinned when Scott and Malia joined in, and full on smiled when Stiles came up beside him, leaning into Derek’s space as he joined the conversation.

With Stiles at his side, and Matty laughing behind him, Derek felt more than just pack bonds thrumming through his veins. It felt like he’s surrounded by family.

–

On the Friday before Christmas break, Derek decided that a nice treat for Matty on her last day of school would be breakfast for dinner. Derek had everything set out by 5 o’clock, when Stiles and Matty usually come home Friday afternoons, but he was waiting for Matty to start.

He knew, from experience, that half the reason Matty loves waffles was because she liked squishing them down in the waffle iron.

Ten minutes after 5 Derek started to get worried though, and twenty minutes after that, Derek started to question if it would be too much if he went out searching for them… Beacon Hills was safe now, so they said. It was probably just a flat tire or something.

Not that Stiles knew how to fix a flat tire.

Worried, Derek moved to grab his keys and track the two down when he heard the Jeep pull into the driveway.

He would have been relieved if he hadn’t heard the shouting just a second later.

“You always take her side!” Matty screamed, her voice getting closer to the door. Derek only had a second to back away from it before it slammed open, and Matty barreled inside.

Stiles was right on her heels, “she doesn’t do these things to hurt you on purpose, Matty.”

“It’s Christmas! If Mommy loved me at all, she would be here with me on Christmas!” Matty stomped her feet and threw her backpack on the ground. Derek winced.

Stiles sighed, “Matilda, Mommy loves you, you know that. She’ll be here the day right after Christmas, and you can-”

“No she doesn’t! She hates me! That’s why she’s never here!”

“Your mom doesn’t hate you! She helped us get this house, remember? She bought you all your favorite clothes! She brought you on that trip to Greece last summer? She just can’t-”

“Stop it! Stop- stop!” Matty stomped her foot again and Stiles shut his mouth, his shoulders sagging. “You keep saying everythings okay, and- and she loves me, but all she ever does is give me things and leave! And I- I hate her! And I hate you for taking her side!”

Matty turned and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. Stiles rushed to follow, “Matty, come on, open the door.”

Matty did not open the door. Stiles knocked on it, “Matilda Claudia Stilinski, open the door!”

“No!”

With that word, it was like all the strings holding Stiles up were cut. He hung his head, and then slowly backed away from Matty’s door until he collapsed onto the couch. There, he buried his face in his hands.

Derek stood by and watched all of this, fidgeting nervously when the scent of salty tears hit the air. He stepped forward when Stiles sucked in a watery breath.

“Hey,” he said, as softly as he could. It didn’t matter though, Stiles still jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Jesus, Derek, have you been here this whole time?” Stiles wiped his face, embarrassment quickly overpowering the scent of sadness. “Fu- fudge. Sorry you had to see that.”

“I, uh, I was going to make waffles for dinner,” Derek pointed lamely behind him, “because Matty likes using the waffle iron, so…”

“Yeah.” Stiles wiped his face again, but the tears weren’t stopping.

Derek had no idea what he was doing, “I didn’t know she had a lock on her door,” he found himself saying.

“She doesn’t, I just don’t go in there when I know she wants her space.”

“Oh.” Of course. Because Stiles was a great dad.

Derek didn’t know how to tell him that though…

He fidgeted foot to foot. God, he was bad at this. Stiles buried his face in his hands again and was obviously trying to get his breathing under control. When a fresh scent of tears hit the air, Derek moved to sit beside him.

He placed a hand on Siles shoulder, squeezing gently. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Matty just.. Needs some time to cool off.”

“Yeah,” Stiles, remarkably, leaned into his touch. “But that’s just today, isn’t it? It’s not going to change the fact that her mother doesn’t live in California, constantly traveling for her fancy ass job. Or that her dad is a deadbeat cop who can barely afford groceries every month on top of all the bills, let alone school supplies. Or that both of her parents have no idea what the fuck they are doing because they accidently got pregnant when they were 18!”

Derek rubbed his hand down his back, “Stiles…”

“I know, okay, I know ‘it’s all going to be okay,’” Stiles sniffed. “It’s just that I’m the one who gave up my dreams, so that Lydia could follow hers. She was the genius, right? I had to, but I always thought,” he took in a steadying breath. “I thought she’d come back, you know? I didn’t think she would permanently leave the two of us here. I thought she would come back, if not for me, at least for Matty… but she didn’t.”

“You don’t deserve that,” Derek said gently, “neither of you do.”

Stiles let out a bitter laugh, “thanks, Der. But I… look, just for tonight, can we pretend I’m not the pathetic kid you feel bad for?”

Derek’s brow furrowed, “what?”

“I know I was the weak human when you left, I know you didn’t understand why I was even… involved in any of it, alright? I know that. And I get that you came back, and I was just like… even more pathetic than I was before. I’m just a weak, stupid, human who can’t even look after his own cub, and your wolfy instinct go into overdrive, right? I get it. You need to look after us, pack and all that, but can we just… pretend, for right now? That you’re just here to hang out? Please?”

Derek floundered, he had no idea Stiles thought any of that. He opened his mouth, but nothing comes out. Stiles gave him a tight smile, apparently taking that as Derek’s acceptance.

“I’m going to go shower before Matty comes out and sees me like this. If she comes out while I’m in there just.. Make waffles, or whatever.”

Stiles stood up and walked to the bathroom, his shoulders hunched the whole way. Derek watched him go, a frown stuck on his face.

–

Derek sat, confused, listening to the sound of Stiles too controlled breathing in the shower.

Stiles thought… Stiles really thought that he was the one not good enough for Derek? Stiles thought that Derek was only here to help, and not to spend time with them, because he thought Stiles was pathetic?

Derek, the person who had been homeless when they’d first seen each other again?

Derek wasn’t sure what to do with this.

A door clicked open, and Derek finally pulled his eyes away from the bathroom. Matty stood at the entrance of her room, her eyes puffy, and her pink sweater pulled down over her tiny, shaking, fists.

“Is Daddy mad at me?”

Derek shook his head instantly, “no. Not at all.”

Matty swallowed, and then she was running forward. Derek instinctively opened his arms, and a second later he had an arm full of third grader, Matty’s face squished against his chest.

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay.”

“I know Daddy does everything for me, and- and he doesn’t have time to do anything else, and he gave up everything for me and- and - I just want him to be happy!”

“He is happy, Matty, your dad’s really happy here with you.”

“Are you sure?” Marry sniffed, “he doesn’t… he doesn’t always look happy, when he thinks I’m not looking.”

Derek felt his brows pinch, “your dad… has to deal with a lot. But that doesn’t mean he’s not happy with you. It just means… he’s tired sometimes.”

“I know,” Matty whispered, leaning back. “Daddy wished Mommy lived here too, even if he never says it. We both want to have two parents here, like everyone else in my class.” Matty sniffed again, “but Daddy never says that, he always defends her and- and he says we’re good just the two of us. Is it so bad to want to be like everyone else though? Even if it’s just for Christmas?”

Derek shook his head, his chest aching for the little girl. “No, Matty, it’s not bad at all,” he brushed her hair back, “it’s okay to want things to be different. That doesn’t make you bad.”

Matty nodded, her eyes getting watery again. “I wish you were my other Daddy.”

Derek’s eyes widened, “what?”

“Charlie McClair has two mommies, so why can’t I have two daddies?” She asked matter of factly. “I think if my mommy doesn’t want to come be a mommy with me all the time, I should be allowed to have two daddies. And Daddy would like that too. He smiles a lot, when you’re around. And he likes your cooking, he told me.”

“Yeah?” Derek’s voice came out barely more than a whisper, he had to clear his throat, his ears growing red. “You would… really want me to stay with you guys? All the time?”

Matty rolled her eyes, “of course, Derek! you’re here all the time anyway, and we haven’t told you to leave.”

Derek smiled, “I guess you’re right. I’ll just have to do something about this then, won’t I?”

Matty nodded, “yeah.”

Derek chuckled, and then stood up, carrying Matty with him to the kitchen. “I’ll try my best, okay? So we can all be happy.”

“Okay.”

“But for now, how do waffles sound?”

“Waffles?”

“Yep, I got the iron out and everything.”

Matty squirmed out of his grip, and Derek smiled as he watched her excitedly start to put the batter together, her tears forgotten.

Yeah, Derek had some work to do.

–

Derek had to wait a few days to start his plan, which was a good thing because it took him two whole days to make the plan…

Well, it took him two whole days to go to Malia and Kira for help with a plan, and only because Cora told him too, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was it was Christmas Eve, and his plan was working.

Most of the pack had their own individual family traditions, so Christmas Eve was left open and Christmas day was for the pack holiday. Matty was going to the Sheriff’s house that night, meeting with Melissa, Scott, and their family, and Stiles wouldn’t have to worry about bringing her along when Derek asked for his help with an emergency at the new house.

Stiles had replied with an emoji he didn’t understand, but he was on his way, and that was the important thing.

Malia and Kira had helped him string up lights and decorations, making the unfinished house look welcoming. Kira had lit a fire in the just recently finished fireplace, and Malia pulled chilled wine out of their car and set it up in the almost finished kitchen.

Derek, nervous, spent his time finding the perfect place to hang the plastic mistletoe.

He finally settled on the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

“He’s just dropped Matty off,” Kira said, looking at her phone, “we have to go.”

“Okay,” Derek took a steadying breath, “thank you for your help.”

He wrapped his arms around both of them this time as they circled him in a hug. He was getting used to these now.

“Stop smelling so nervous, he’s going to love it,” Malia said, giving him a gentle shove before the two of them joined hands and walked to their car.

He hoped she was right. He hoped Stiles didn’t laugh, look at him like he was crazy, and then tell him not to come near him or Matty ever again.

… he hoped Stiles didn’t find it weird that he’d already designed a room for a daughter that wasn’t technically his.

The sound of the Jeep pulled up outside of the house, and Derek took another breath. He could do this.

He told Matty he could do this.

He stepped outside as Stiles clambered out of his Jeep. “Wow, Derek, this place looks amazing!”

Derek grinned, proud that his mate liked their new home- before he shook that thought away. Jesus Christ, one step at a time.

“Thank you,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “come inside.”

He stepped out of the way, and watched as Stiles looked around at everything, his face open and happy.

As it should be.

“Jeeze, you even had garlands over the railings,” Stiles pointed at the stairs. Malia had told him to do that, Derek hadn’t known the name of them. He nodded anyway. “So, what’s the big emergency?”

Derek swallowed, right, here goes nothing. He pointed towards the kitchen, following right behind Stiles on the way. As he hoped, Stiles stopped at the sight of the wine on the counter.

Right under the mistletoe.

“You can’t, uh, open a bottle of wine?” Stiles asked, his cheeks already flushing pink. “I don’t know if I can help you with that, it’s not like I’m an expert-”

“I can open it,” Derek said, “but I need someone to share it with.”

Stiles looked at him then, his eyes wide and hopeful, and Derek felt his chest loosen. Everyone had been right, Stiles did want this. He was just scared. Derek could be the one brave enough to get them there.

He nodded up to the mistletoe.

Stiles followed his look, and then his cheeks grew even more red, the flush going all the way down his neck and under his shirt.

“I- sorry, you’re waiting for someone else? You wanted my approval or-or-” Stiles tried to back away, but Derek grabbed his arm, pulling him back as gently as he could.

“There is no one else, Stiles, you know that. It’s just you and me.”

“Derek…” Stiles looked at the wine, then back up at the mistletoe, and then away, “you don’t want this, not really. I have a daughter. My life is a mess. I’m- I - you can do so much better than-”

Derek silenced him with a kiss. Not a deep one, barely a kiss at all, just Derek’s lips against Stiles.

Soft, gentle.

He ran his thumb over Stiles cheekbone, smiling when Stiles didn’t do anything but gape at him when he pulled away.

“Stiles, you are the kindest, most generous, and bravest man I have ever known. I’ve never thought of you as weak, or pathetic. I’ve never thought you were a mess. Especially not for having a daughter, who you chose to look after, even when her own mother left.” He brought his other hand up to cup Stiles face, his eyes filling with tears. “You took in a man who had nothing, and you gave him something worth staying for. You gave me a reason to put roots down in Beacon Hills, not just build a house on top of it.”

Stiles blinked, and a few tears slipped out. Derek leaned forward, but he didn’t have to lean far. Stiles was already moving to meet him in the middle.

This kiss was sweeter, their mouths fitting together like they were made for each other. Derek felt Stiles arms curl around his back, and he leaned into it.

They pulled away before the kiss got any deeper, but Derek couldn’t wait until he could explore every inch of this man. He pushed his forehead against, Stiles, breathing the same air, but when Derek opened his eyes, he saw Stiles watching him back.

He leaned away, feeling sheepish about this next part.

“So, I know we’ve only just now…” Derek gestured between the two of them. “But I know you feel uncomfortable in your own house, and I’ve built this place big enough for all three of us. I thought Matty could have the room down here, by the living room, and ours could be the one upstairs. And if- if we’re ever in need of more rooms, I could really easily add on-”

Derek stopped talking when Stiles kissed him again. When they pulled away this time, Stiles eyes were sparkling.

“I think we might need some time to get to that point but… yes, one million times yes to all of this. You’re amazing, Derek. I really can’t-”

Derek kissed him again, because Stiles had said yes, and he didn’t think he would ever get tired of kissing the man.

They ended up on the couch, Derek’s body draped over Stiles, sharing slow kisses and soft touches.

–

Christmas morning, Derek and Stiles tried to hide their new relationship, but Matty was too clever for them. She took one look at them sitting beside each other on the couch before she screamed with glee and jumped in the middle of them.

“My Christmas wish came true!” She shouted, “I have two Daddies!”

“Well, I don’t know about that just yet…” Stiles tried, but Matty was yelling again, and Derek was laughing along with her. It didn’t matter to him when Matty called him, as long as she knew that he cared.

Christmas morning was spent just the three of them, opening presents and eating sweets for breakfast. The afternoon was spent at the Sheriff’s house, where they all climbed into a family photo, and the Sheriff clapped Derek on the back and told him he was proud to have a new son in law.

Christmas dinner was at Malia, Kira and Scott’s. By this point, everyone knew about the two of them, and they didn’t feel like they needed to hide.

They spend most of the night curled up together beside the fire, as everyone enjoyed the holiday around them. The pack bonds warm in Derek’s veins, and Stiles warm in his arms.

Matty, happily telling everyone about her new two Daddies, filling their ears and making them laugh.

#whateverrrrwhatever #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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joeybelle · 4 years

Text

Starlight - Chapter 25

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content, Strong language

Size: 8600

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Cora woke up completely disoriented. The world was spinning rapidly and a couple of moments had to pass before it stabilized enough for her to realize that she wasn’t in fact moving, and it was just one of the side effects of irresponsible drinking. But that wasn’t the main problem.

The first problem was the darkness. It was pitch black and she hadn’t slept in complete darkness since she’d moved to Yavin. Her eyes were wide open, staring into the nothingness, feeling lost. She knew that even in case of a power outage, the batteries in Ben’s tank would still last for at least a few days. Second, this was definitely not her bed. Not only was the mattress different, but the sheets felt odd against her skin. She splayed her fingers, trying to take in as much of her environment as possible without giving away that she was awake. She had no idea where she could have ended up. Even the vents that constantly pumped air sounded different.

She just laid there unmoving for a couple of minutes, eyes wide trying to adjust to the darkness, but in the end she gathered all her courage to start feeling around. Her throat felt dry and irritated and she really needed to pee, so she had to find out where she was and if it was safe to go look for a bathroom.

She extended her arm and started exploring. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she realized that someone was laying next to her in bed, fast asleep. It should have crossed her mind that if she wasn’t in her own bed, it probably belonged to someone else. And it would have been pretty plausible for that someone to still be occupying it. But the feeling of his warm skin against the palm of her hand was so familiar that she instinctively relaxed, even before fully registering that the man next to her was in fact the one and only, Captain Andor.

Cora let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a silent laughter. She was a fool. She should have realized the instant she woke up that this was Cassian’s bed because it smelled like him, intoxicatingly so, even with the tang of alcohol covering almost everything else. Panic had taken over for a moment and she froze, as usual.

But why did it stink like alcohol and why was she in Cassian’s bed?

Once she was fully awake the memories flooded back. She’d taken a couple of days off knowing that, as always, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything on her mother’s death anniversary. Especially since the nights leading to it had been terrible. She hadn’t planned on drinking but she’d woken up shaking in the middle of the night and had trouble going back to sleep. She felt like shit in the morning, and then it even got worse as the day proceeded. So she decided it was time to properly mourn, get this out of her system and hopefully be able to sleep better after. Or at least, feel like shit because of the hangover. She grabbed her bottle of Corellian brandy and hid from everyone on the platform outside, fully determined to finish it by herself. She wondered if she’d managed.

Her memory was a little foggy, but to her surprise she only seemed to have completely blacked out at the end, cause she had no recollection as to how she got in this unfamiliar room. Or she’d fallen asleep, she wasn’t sure. But she remembered Cassian coming to look for her, she remembered telling him the story and the sadness on his face as he listened. She was really happy that he’d come, it helped ease her mind knowing that he was back home, safe.

She inched closer and hugged him, kissing him softly on the cheek. He shifted a little under her touch and Cora froze, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up.

“Morning,” he mumbled, and Cora sighed. “You’re up already?”

“I woke up to pee,” she replied in all honesty and Cassian chuckled, a sound that filled her with warmth.

“Did you find the bathroom?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” she said, stretching. “And it’s so cozy in here anyway.” Cassian laughed and turned on a light on the nightstand above their heads. Cora blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

His room was a lot smaller than hers, Cora noticed looking around. There was a bed, a desk and a chair, a wardrobe and a door that she supposed lead to a refresher. In fact, it was pretty standard for a single room, but Cora had gotten so used to her roomy living space that she sometimes had to remind herself that it had been built with more people in mind than just her.

“I’ll be back,” she said, pecking Cassian’s lips before getting out of bed and heading for the refresher.

Cassian’s room was exactly how she imagined it: neat, simple, with little things that made it personal. There was a pair of old, used boots in a corner of the room, his blue parka was hanging on one side of the door, and there was a blaster rifle leaning on the wall, next to his desk. His desk was also pretty neat, much cleaner than hers. The only things in sight were a datapad, a couple of military strategy books stacked in a corner, and a blaster pistol. Nothing was out of order besides the pile of clothes thrown on the floor.

Cora looked down at what she was wearing: one of Cassian’s shirts, she assumed, and her underwear. She had no idea how or when she’d changed.

“Did we… you know?” she asked, hearing Cassian outside the bathroom. She didn’t mind if they did, but she was annoyed at the lack of memory.

“No, you fell asleep on me,” he answered. “I had to fight you to get you changed.”

“Figures,” she mumbled. “Why does everything stink like brandy? And why am I so sticky?”

“Because you insisted on baptizing us both with what was left in the bottle,” he laughed, poking his head though the open door. Cora groaned, hiding her face in her palms. “Melshi would be proud, you know.”

“No, please! Don’t mention that devil,” she feigned indignation. “You should have kicked me into the shower last night, you shouldn’t have let me soil your sheets.”

“Doesn’t matter, they needed changing anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly not as bad as I’d expected,” she said, washing her hands. “I mean I’m somewhat dizzy and my head hurts a bit, but other than that I’m fine. Jet juice was far worse than this and I never drank this much.” She was dehydrated like a raisin. Her mouth was really dry and her stomach a bit disgruntled, but she’d expected to be puking her guts out and wishing an early death after pulling a stunt like that. Surprisingly, none of that had happened yet.

“Yeah, jet juice is terrible. At least the Corellian stuff is high quality. Here, drink this,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, I was just gonna ask you for something to drink,” she said, taking the bottle to her lips and drinking greedily. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Cassian smiled. He was only dressed in his underwear, his hair sticking awkwardly in all directions, looking sticky and matted. He must have been right when he said she baptised them both, her hair felt and smelled terrible too. She noticed a red and purple bruise on his fingers when she handed him an empty bottle.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked, catching his wrist between her fingers before he had the time to hide it.

“”Just a bruise,” he said, looking embarrassed. “Hammered it yesterday. It’s no big deal.”

Cora let go of his hand, but only after making sure that he was indeed telling the truth. He’d be ok with just a bacta patch and a kiss, for now.

“What’s the time?” she asked, once Cassian returned to the bedroom.

“Very early. It’s still dark outside.”

“Oh.” Her perception of time was completely screwed. She had no idea when she started drinking or when she eventually stopped, but she had vague memories of a sunset. Or she might have dreamt that, she had no idea. “You should go back to sleep, then. Is it okay if I take a shower in the meantime?”

“Yeah, take your time,” he said, picking up some clothes off the floor. “I’ll just tidy up a bit.”

Cora watched him from the bathroom door. She could see a couple more bruises on his skin, but nothing life threatening so she decided this wasn’t the right time to pester him about them. Instead, she allowed herself to be happy that he was back home, in far better condition than other times. She wanted to make the most out of the time spent together, because she never knew when he’d be sent back.

“Or... you could join me if you don’t plan on sleeping,” she offered with a cheeky grin on her lips. Cassian stopped halfway through picking up the clothes on the floor. “Since I doused you in brandy, I might as well help clean you up.”

Cassian smirked and dropped the clothes in the same spot. It seemed they weren’t a priority anymore as he walked towards Cora. His pace was slow, but determined, and suddenly he didn’t remind her of the cute, fuzzy rodent she used to play with when she was a kid. No, he looked like something much more dangerous, something darker, and the thrill was making her belly squirm. Cora didn’t know if she was still drunk or not, but her face flushed in a matter of seconds, and she could feel herself becoming quite lightheaded. Anticipation was making her heart beat faster as she stepped backwards into the cramped refresher, Cassian following suit.

He didn’t wait around, but grabbed the hem of her shirt and in one fluid motion pulled it over her head. Cora shivered when the air hit her skin, but it wasn’t just the cold that was giving her goosebumps. Cassian was admiring her with a hungry look in his eyes, like he’d been starving for her and wasn’t able to restrain himself anymore.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” she laughed, splaying her hands on his chest.

“I didn’t think I’d have to play hard to get,” he said, taking a quick step forward, closing the gap between them and pinning her to the wall.

“You weren’t that easy to get either… historically speaking.” Cora smiled cheekily and sucked in a breath as her breasts pressed against him, her nipples perking up at the contact.

Cassian kissed her jaw right under her ear. “You think so? I thought I was pretty easy.”

Cora nodded and snaked her hands around his neck, pulling him into a long, languid kiss. “You were a nightmare.”

Oh, how she’d missed his touch, his kisses on her jaw, his scent. She’d gotten so used with him being grounded and sharing a bed almost every night that the moment he had to leave once again, the absence was almost physically painful. So she promised herself to make the most of their time spent together, to enjoy every brief touch, every fleeting kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed down her neck, pulling gently to guide him where she wanted his lips. He was obediently following her guidance, kissing, licking and nibbling at the soft skin, before going back up to claim her lips.

Cassian’s hips pressed into hers and she could feel his growing arousal through the thin material of their undergarments. Her hand dropped between them, slowly massaging his cock, feeling it twitch at her touch.

Cassian was patient, almost annoyingly so. He didn’t rush to undress her, instead focused on what was already in front of him. He brushed his lips over her right nipple, slowly kneading her soft flesh, while leaning into her hand for a little more pressure.

Cora hissed once his mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently. “Should we actually shower?” she asked, a little out of breath. “Before we become too busy to care about that?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, a bit reluctant to move his lips from her breast, but hitting a switch on the wall anyway.

It was a bit of a shock when the water hit her skin, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She was still pretty dehydrated so she wondered if she could absorb some moisture through her skin like some sort of amphibian. They fiddled a little with the temperature, Cora yelping and giggling whenever it was too hot or too cold, but in the end they found a setting that they both enjoyed. She took off her wet underwear, something both of them forgot to do before turning the water on.

“You know, this reminds me of Samarkand,” she said, slipping her thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulling them off. Her heart skipped a beat; the excitement of seeing him fully naked before her hadn’t diminished no matter how often they slept together. “But I think there was even less space on your ship,” she added, trying to hide her blush.

Cassian chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s smaller,” he said, looking around. He squirted some shampoo from the wall dispenser and started shampooing his hair.

“I really didn’t mind the lack of space,” she smiled, spreading some shower gel on his body instead of her own. She had a feeling they wouldn’t be doing much washing, because her fingers kept tracing the outline of his muscles down to his cock instead of focusing on the task at hand. Cassian seemed a little less distracted, taking some more shampoo and starting to wash her hair too.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she purred, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch like a cat looking for affection. His fingers felt so good on her scalp, gently massaging circles into her skin as she left her soapy hands wander up and down his torso. He brushed his lips over hers before going in for a proper kiss. She could taste the faint aroma of shampoo that washed over his face from time to time, but it didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was him and the closeness between them, and how good it felt when he let his hands brush down her neck, spreading the perfumed foam all over her shoulders. What mattered were the deep, hungry kisses that meant more than a thousand unspoken words.

Eventually, the shower was forgotten. Cassian had pinned Cora to the wall, hands above her head, kissing and licking across her collarbone, leaving angry red spots whenever he sucked a little to hard. The water automatically turned off at some point, but neither of them noticed, too lost in the heat of the moment to give a damn about what was going on around them.

His fingers inside her were drawing restrained gasps of pleasure from her parted lips. By now he knew her by heart, his fingers almost instinctively finding her most sensitive spots. His palm pressing against her clit was making her tremble, and she kept thrusting her hips forward to meet the movement of his hand. She moaned when his lips closed over her nipple, sucking gently, her mind becoming cloudier with every flick of the tongue, with every curl of his fingers inside.

The tension was rapidly building inside her and it didn’t take long for Cassian’s expert fingers to take her over the edge, her nerves on fire. When he let go of her hands, she let herself slide down to her knees, her legs too wobbly to sustain her weight. She was breathing fast and shivering all over from her orgasm and as she peeked up, she saw Cassian looking at her with a very smug smile on his lips.

“Very pleased with ourselves, are we?” she laughed.

“A bit,” he replied, grinning.

“Well, you should be. A bit.”

She looked him in the eye when she took him in her hand and gave the head a tentative lick. The smug smile vanished in an instant, something more primal taking its place. His hands went to the wall for support and Cora snickered, fully aware that if he knew how to push her buttons, she knew how to make him lose his composure too.

No matter how restrained Cassian usually was, he didn’t try to put up a front when it came to sex. While he wasn’t really vocal, Cora could easily tell when she did the right thing. From the twitch of his cock when she licked the underside to the almost inaudible hiss that escaped his mouth when she took him in her mouth, trying to fit as much as she could without gagging, he was really easy to read. The ridge between his eyebrows accentuated as she flicked her tongue on the head, tasting his precum.

She liked seeing him like that, on the verge of losing all composure, knowing that she was the one making him feel that way. It was one of the very few instances when Cassian dropped his mask completely, letting himself be vulnerable and open, so she kept her eyes open, enjoying the look of complete surrender on his face.

She could feel the tension in his thighs as he tried not to push back into her throat knowing she didn’t like it. Cora did her best to quicken the pace and give him the release he so desperately needed, but Cassian stopped her. It seemed like he wasn’t gonna be as patient anymore, as he helped her up and turned her around to face the wall. Cora brought her hands forward for support and spread her legs to give him better access. She looked over her shoulder, a lascive smile playing on her lips as he hastily positioned himself behind her.

He entered her in one quick thrust of his hips, filling her completely, almost knocking the air out of her. Cora sucked in a breath as he placed soft kisses on her shoulder, allowing her to get used to the sensation of him filling her. It was more a case of mental adjusting, though, her body already ready to have him, but she still enjoyed the tiny moment of stillness, the way their bodies connected and fit so deliciously together, before he started pumping into her.

His pace was rushed and a little erratic, but Cora enthusiastically met his thrusts. His wet skin was slapping against her butt, filling the tiny bathroom with lewd sounds that mixed with the silent gasps of pleasure that sometimes escaped their parted mouths. She was already lost in the pleasure he managed to bring forth. It seemed so easy for him to make her lose her mind, she felt like she was putty in his hands.

It didn’t take long for another orgasm to ripple through her entire body, leaving her lightheaded and breathless and terribly satisfied. He quickly followed, coming inside her with a low grunt, and hugging her tight, his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, he rested his weight on Cora, completely spent. She entwined her fingers with his, just holding his hand for a while, before turning around and kissing him.

They stayed in the shower a few more minutes as they caught their breath, the warm water washing the sweat off their bodies. Cora had her eyes closed, clinging to Cassian’s frame, her nose touching the skin on his neck. He used the same standard shower gel everyone on base used, but somehow it smelled different on his skin. She sighed, content.

“Do you want to get back in bed?” he said softly in her ear, turning the water off.

“Yeah,” she sighed, content.

Cassian broke away from the embrace long enough to find a towel and drape it over Cora’s shoulders. She smiled when he started drying her hair, she liked it when he took care if her. In exchange, she grabbed the edge of the towel and started patting some of the water dripping off his chest.

“When did you come back?” she asked, running her fingers over his skin along with the towel.

“Yesterday night.”

“How did your mission go?” He passed the edge of the towel over her cheek wiping a drop of water and then kissed the spot. He was silent and his face had gone back to the usually unreadable mask he was wearing in public, so Cora knew not push. “How’s your hand?” she asked instead.

“Pretty good, I’d say.” He lifted his arm to let her look. The injuries he’d gotten on Samarkand had healed properly, especially since he’d been given time to rest. The other good thing about him being grounded—apart from spending a lot of time with Cora—was that he’d been given time for his injuries to properly heal. But even so, injuries like that might still hurt from time to time.

“I’m glad,” she said, kissing his wrist.

Once they were both relatively dry he started looking through the closet for a change of clothes. Cora huffed, a little disappointed. She didn’t mind looking at him walk around butt naked all day long, but she guessed it was time for them to get dressed. She smiled when he handed the neatly stacked pile of clothes to her.

“I hope these fit you,” he said. “Yours are still damp. I’ll put them in a laundry bag and take them to the cleaners in the morning.”

“Thank you,” she said, putting on a shirt that barely covered her ass, and leaving the rest on the nightstand. She’d probably have to walk to her room dressed in his clothes, but if she left early enough no one would see her. Not that she cared if anyone knew about her and Cassian, but she didn’t want it to look like she was parading their relationship. “I didn’t know you were back. If I’d known I wouldn’t have…” The words died down when she tried saying them out loud. “I’m sorry that you had to see me like that,” she said, looking away, but Cassian’s hand cupped her chin and made her look up at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He kissed her, pulling her close to his chest. “Everyone has bad days. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you.”

“You listened to my drunken ramblings, that’s enough for me.” She rested her head on his still naked shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin.

“Don’t say that. It wasn’t just that,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “But I still shouldn’t have unloaded on you. You have enough things to worry about as it is.”

“I’ll always listen if you want me to. But I might not be the best equipped to help you.”

Cora lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. He seemed worried, the crease between his eyebrows pretty visible. She sighed. This was one of the reasons she hated talking about her past, because it always made people worry about her mental health and it annoyed her. Although most of the time she knew they only wanted the best for her, it always sounded patronizing. They never took into account that she was a doctor and she knew how to treat herself.

“I’m fine,” she said dryly, breaking out of his embrace, his touch suddenly overstimulating. “You don’t need to worry about me. I just needed to get drunk, blow some steam, get some things off my chest. I’ll be as good as new this time tomorrow. No more sulking, back to work!” She forced her face into a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. She turned her back to him and headed for the bed, hoping that he would drop the issue.

“Please,” he said, stopping her from advancing my snaking his arms around her chest and pulling her close, “don’t take it the wrong way. I just think you’d feel better if you’d talk to someone.”

“Yeah, I just did.” She tried escaping this embrace too, but as gentle as it felt, he was immovable. “And I feel better, so thanks for that.”

He was silent for a few moments, as if he was considering what to say. Cora could feel the tension in both of them, her own breathing resounding so loudly in the quiet room.

“I just don’t think self-medicating is the solution,” he eventually said, and Cora turned her head to look at him with a frown on her face.

“You know what, I really don’t feel like taking health advice from someone who slaps a bacta patch on a blaster wound and calls it a day,” she said, harshly.

Cassian dropped his arms and took a step back, and Cora felt out of balance without his warm chest pressed against her. It felt cold in more than one way. “I just thought you’d be more sensible than me,” he said, coldly, putting on a pair of boxers and climbing in bed.

Cora sighed and quickly followed, slipping into bed next to him before he got the chance to turn his back to her. She hated arguing with Cassian, but no matter how hard they tried, sometimes they still butted heads. His arm around her back and the kiss on her forehead told her that he wasn’t really mad. And neither was she. But it really pissed her off when people assumed that she wasn’t holding it together. She could handle this by herself, she’d done it for years and was still functional and didn’t like anyone poking their nose into her life and giving her advice. She knew what she had to do, she’d gone to medical school for this.

“Listen,” she said, propping herself onto her elbow, her tone a lot softer than before. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know you mean well, but I’m fine, honestly. I don’t want you to worry. I hate it when you worry.”

“What’s wrong with me worrying?” he said, frowning.

“That’s my job!” Cora brushed away a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Then what would my job be?”

“I’m not sure, but you could start by kissing me.” Cassian’s face relaxed into a smile. He grabbed her waist and pulled Cora on top of him, making her straddle his hips. “Oh, you want me to do all the work? On my day off?” He was starting to get hard once again, she could feel him, but she didn’t mind going for another round.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was still so early it could be considered ‘late’, but she wasn’t feeling tired at all. Maybe it was the alcohol still in her veins (she doubted that her body had managed to filter it all so soon) or maybe because she blacked out early in the evening, or the shower, or the sex, but she felt really invigorated. She hated that she wasted a day off drinking her problems away when she could have spent it with Cassian, but there was nothing she could do about that now.

“Do you have to be at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, and for half a second he looked really dejected. Maybe he’d wished they could have spent a whole day together too.

“Can’t you take a day off?” she asked, a little unsure. She knew his work was crucial for the Rebellion, but she didn’t really know what it entailed. “I know a doctor who would give you medical leave if you asked nicely,” she added with a wink.

“You’d do that for me?” he asked, seeming really amused by the thought.

“Of course not,” Cora snorted. “I wouldn’t tarnish my good name giving you fake medical leave. But I know Doctor Crane would.” Cassian laughed and pulled at the hem of the shirt Cora was wearing, prompting her to take it off. “Well, that didn’t stay on long,” she joked, throwing it on the floor.

The way Cassian was looking at her, like he hadn’t seen her stark naked just a little while back, was already making her hot. The smirk in the corner of his lips as his hands went to her hips, caressing her sides was making her belly squirm. She was idly rubbing her crotch against his cock, teasing him, making him grow harder with every roll of her hips.

She leaned down, kissing him lazily. “I missed you,” she whispered against his lips and kissed him harder, not letting him say anything in reply.

He pressed his cock against her crotch, eliciting a gasp from Cora. She tangled her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, her breasts pressing into his chest. His skin feeling hot against hers. His fingers on her back were gently tracing her scar, the skin still a little more sensitive than the rest, despite the bacta patches she kept putting on it.

She sat up, prompting him to lift his hips enough for her to be able to push his boxers down his hips, revealing his cock. She slowly sunk down on him, moaning as he filled her up, enjoying the familiar feeling of him stretching her out.

It was lazy and almost completely involuntary the way their bodies moved together, but they fit so well. There was no urgency, no pressure. Cora was setting the pace while Cassian was looking at her with heavy lidded eyes, his hands on her thighs. He wasn’t trying to rush her, he just caressed her skin gently.

His touch felt so good. He was caring and gentle, and he seemed to really want to slow down and savor the moment. Cora loved it. She’d been so used to rushed sex in dark, cramped corners, that only now was she learning what it felt like to really enjoy your partner, to take the time to know them. To feel them deeper, on a spiritual level.

Because on the physical level, she was already pretty close to paradise. She didn’t know what exactly about Cassian made her so easily aroused, but she was thankful. She got to experiment intimacy and human closeness to another level. She got to look him in the eye as she came, clutching onto his shoulders for support, trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. Then got to feel him tense and fall apart in her hands once he found his own release.

She collapsed next to him, her nerves on fire. She laid on her back for a few minutes, her arm covering her eyes, enjoying the feeling of lethargy that came after a good orgasm. Cassian was silent next to her, still catching his breath, but the silence was a comfortable one.

However, he was overthinking. She could easily tell, once she turned her head to look at him, by the serious expression on his face and the gaze glued to the ceiling. She snuggled closer to him, trying to figure out what was wrong..

“I know that frown,” she said, bringing her hand to his forehead, trying to gently brush away the crease. “What’s bothering you? Is it top secret work stuff?” she asked, but he didn’t reply right away. Moments like these happened on occasion and although Cora would ask, she’d usually get a vague answer.

“I was just thinking about what you told me last night.” He was still looking at the ceiling and Cora sighed. “Do you remember everything you said?”

The jerk knee reaction was to avoid talking about this altogether, but she realized that he deserved more than silence after she subjected him to her drunken confessions. “I think so? I think I blacked out at the end, but everything until that point is still somewhat clear.”

“Do you remember asking me if I’d have to report back on this?” he asked, tilting his head just enough to be able to glance at her. Cora’s heart skipped a bit. Yeah, she remembered that very well.

“I do,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I know I put you in a difficult position,” she forced the words out of her mouth, “and I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“No,” he said, full of determination. “You needed someone to talk to and it’s my job as a… it’s part of my job to listen.”

“Reporting back is also part of your job,” she said trying hard not to sound dejected. “You shouldn’t have to be put in the position to choose between me and the Rebellion.”

“What?” He propped himself onto an elbow to look at her. “Who said I had to choose between anything?”

Ok, she realized she was being a little overdramatic, but it kinda felt like that. She knew what withholding information could do to someone in the military and considering how much Draven hated her, siding with her might very well end Cassian’s career.

“I don’t have to choose between anything,” he continued, but the apologetic expression on his face made her heart sink. “But I will have to ask if you’d be willing to let me report on some of the things you said yesterday.” The moral battle Cassian was fighting was written all over his face, and Cora hated that she was the cause for it.

“Yeah,” she replied, and felt surprisingly relieved by it. As time passed she’d gotten more involved in the Rebellion and she’d started to feel the pressure of the things she knew and didn’t divulge. She wasn’t sure she had any information they might consider useful, but she still felt like she wasn’t being totally honest. “As long as you leave out the… circumstances in which you got the information.”

“Of course.”

“What do you think is of interest?” She doubted Draven had use for any details regarding her childhood trauma or Admiral Enoch’s bad parenting.

“Anything you might know about Krennic. And Galen Erso.”

Hearing Krennic’s name brought out a new wave of anger, but she had no objection in telling him everything she knew. She’d be very happy if anything she told them could eventually contribute to his demise. The bastard deserved it.

“I don’t know much about Krennic,” she said. “He worked, well, still works with my father I suppose, but I wouldn’t call them friends. I think they were somewhat closer when my mom was alive, I think, or I might have seen him often because I was living on Corinthia, but as I grew up we’d only really meet at formal events. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t really know much.”

“It’s alright,” he said with a long, heavy kiss on her temple, that made her feel a little better. “What can you tell me about the report on your mother’s death? The project she was working on?”

That sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine and she pressed herself closer to his chest. His voice had the same sharp tone he used for interrogations such a long time ago, but Cora dismissed it as job conditioning. Somehow it sounded weird, considering that they were both naked and they’d just had sex. But now that she thought about it, he would have had a better chance of loosening her tongue when she was imprisoned if he would have thoroughly fucked her before getting to the questioning.

“Hmmm… I’m not sure I have much valuable information about that. I was more interested in what it said about my mom, didn’t care as much about the technical details. But I could try and write down for you everything I remember? My mind is really hazy right now.”

“Don’t worry about it now,” he said. “We can talk about it another time, okay? You’d better try to get some sleep. It’s still early.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, looking at the clock and scrunching her nose. “Yeah, we’ll talk another time,” she said, resting her head on his chest and yawning, despite her previous statement. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” she continued, “but I don’t want Draven interrogating me. I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, and it would just end up in a fight. I’d rather you ask the questions.”

“Of course,” he said, and she could feel his arm around her shoulders tense a little. “I wouldn't let Draven be shit to you anyway. I’m sorry for ever letting him do that to you. But things have changed since then.”

“Yes, a lot of thing have changed,” she agreed. They they weren’t enemies for one, and they weren’t strangers either. She felt like she’d grown a lot since she’d met him, and she was really thankful that he’d barged into her life and changed it completely.

While in the beginning the only thing Cora wanted was to save her skin, gradually she’d gotten more and more invested in the Alliance’s cause. And it wasn’t just because she was in love with Cassian or for her friends’ sake, or because she felt guilty for her and her family’s contribution in this war; no, she was doing it because she knew this was the right thing to do. She wasn’t trying to run anymore, not from herself, not from her father or the Empire.

She knew that Cassian had played a huge role in this. It wasn’t just her love for him, but he inspired her to be better, to fight for what she believed in and to help the ones she cared about. He was the main reason she’d stayed on base even when it had gotten hard and the only thing she’d wanted to do was to give up and run. He’d been her pillar. Somehow, her love for him had made her braver.

“I know this isn’t an excuse,” he said, and Cora could feel the uncertainty in his voice, “I know I shouldn’t have acted the way I did anyway, but It feels even worse now that we’re… here.” He pulled her a little closer, and Cora hugged his chest. “I wouldn’t have done that if I’d ever thought… But I never dreamed that we’d end up… here.”

“You mean, in your bed?” Cora asked with a cheeky grin on her face, tilting her head to look at him.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a breathy laugh.

“What? You didn’t think we’d end up dating?” she said and her heart skipped a beat, so she tried hiding her nervousness behind a joke. “You didn’t like my flirting style? Insults work every time.” Cassian laughed, his chest vibrating under her fingers.

“No,” he said, brushing a stand of hair from her face, his eyes a bit melancholic. “I didn’t think we’d end up dating.” She didn’t remember ever hearing him talk about dating before, and it both excited and scared her. Maybe things had really changed. And maybe it was time they both acknowledged it. “I’d hoped… not at first, but as time passed, I’d hoped we could...maybe.” He laughed, passing a hand over his eyes. “Never thought it would actually happen.”

Cora shifted so that now she was laying on his chest, looking directly at him. “Why not?” she asked, genuinely surprised. She hadn't known if he liked her for some time, but she was pretty sure that she’d been pretty damn obvious about it.

“I don’t know,” he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I guess I’ve just thought I’d always be alone.”

“Well, you’re not alone now,” she said, smiling, kissing his chest above his heart.

“No, I’m not.” He smiled back, tangling his fingers into her hair, holding her close, his arms tightening around her in a protective gesture.

He seemed a bit lost in thought for a while, so Cora settled back into his embrace. It was uncommon for him to talk about himself and what he felt, especially when it involved relationships. But he’d also brought her to his quarters, and even though she could argue that it was just for the sake of convenience, it was still a step forward. He’d slowly, but progressively opened up to her as time passed.

“About this...” he eventually broke the silence, but didn’t finish the idea.

“About what?” she asked, lifting her head to look him in the eye. He seemed a little flustered, but Cora blamed it on the poor light playing tricks on her perception.

“About us?”

A shiver ran down Cora’s spine and she couldn’t really tell if it was a good or a bad feeling. “What about us?”

“Have you thought where this is going?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Forward I suppose?” She had no idea what prompted this whole conversation about their relationship and it was so out of the blue that it scared her a little. Usually these things ended up in a breakup—or at least that’s what she assumed—but there hadn’t been any signs that he might have been thinking about a breakup. She was a little confused. “Are you trying to ask me if I thought about our future?” she pressed, seeing as he didn't seem willing to share what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” He let out a relieved breath. “Do you ever think about our future?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” She shrugged. “The future in general doesn't look very bright, but I don't know, you give me hope that there might be light at the end of the tunnel after all. Does that sound sappy?” she asked with a smile, and Cassian pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“No, it's not sappy. I think…” A insistent knock knock the door made him forget what he was saying. “Wait here,” he told her, climbing out of bed and putting on a pair of boxers and a shirt.

Cora sat up on the bed, wrapping herself in a sheet and trying to stay as far away from the door as possible. She watched him open it, the light pouring in from the hallway almost blinding. She couldn’t hear what they were talking, but the hushed conversation had a note of urgency that made Cora’s stomach contract painfully.

When he came back, he didn’t return to the bed, instead taking out some clothes from the closet and starting to get dressed. It seemed this was the abrupt end to their peaceful night spent together. Cora sighed, but she was resigned. This was his job, after all.

“That doctor’s note won’t do much good now, would it?” she asked, hopping off the bed and hugging Cassian from behind.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her over his shoulder. “No, I have to go.” His voice was serious and a little sad.

“Did anything bad happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down and fidgeting with the buckle of the trousers he was holding in his hand. “I just have to go check something.”

Cora knew she wasn’t going to get more information than that, so she didn’t push it. But she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling that something terrible was about to happen. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she said, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, turning around and holding her in his arms. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen. It’s just a routine mission,” he tried reassuring her, but she knew he was lying—none of his missions were ‘routine’. She smiled nonetheless. “I’ll cook for you when I come back,” he promised, tilting her head so he could kiss her.

“You better!” she said, stealing a couple more kisses. She was going to miss him, like she did every time he was away.

“You should stay here today, get some sleep,” he said, breaking the embrace to scribble a four-digit number on a piece of paper. “This is the access code, in case you wanna go in and out.”

Cora took the slip of paper and stared at it. “What if I make a mess in your absence?” she joked, trying to break the tension, but her voice sounded sad, even to her own ears.

“It needs some cleaning anyway,” he chuckled and went back to dress himself.

She watched in silence as he hurriedly got dressed, holding the sheet close to her body. Her heart ached thinking that in only a few minutes he’d be gone and only the gods could know what he was going to get himself into. She wanted to hug him tight, kiss him until her lips hurt, and tell him she loved him; ask him not to go, to stay a little longer. But she knew that wasn’t possible. So instead he kissed him lightly, taking a good look at him.

“Take care,” she whispered, his hands heavy on her hips as he held her to his chest, the jacket of his uniform feeling rough under her fingers. “Come back safe. I’ll be waiting for you.”

There was a determined look on his face as he nodded and kissed her one last time, before saying goodbye and taking his leave. The blast doors closed behind him, and Cora was left standing in the middle of his room, clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

She considered getting dressed and leaving his quarters right away, hoping there would be less people to witness her walk of shame in Cassian’s clothes, but then decided that she’d rather follow Cassian’s advice and get some sleep. After all, nobody really seemed to care about what her and Cassian were doing, because although she’d been scared of rumours being spread, no one seemed to be talking. Or at least, they seemed to be able to hide it from her, which was the only thing she asked for.

She yawned, stretched her aching muscles, and crawled back into the bed that still held some of Cassian’s warmth and fell asleep almost instantly. She woke up a few hours later, with a hangover.

Not the mother of all hangovers, no, but her stomach still did a double flip when she climbed out of Cassian’s bed. The clock on the nightstand showed that it was almost noon. She only slept that long after a night shift, but if she thought about it, the fatigue level was comparable. She lazily went to the bathroom and then got dressed. What would happen if someone knocked on Cassian’s door, she wondered, only to find her half dressed in his clothes, in the middle of his room.

Right now almost everyone must have been crowded in the mess hall, leaving the hallways deserted, so it might be the best time to leave unseen. Alternatively, she could spend the whole day napping and rummaging through Cassian’s things and leave at night, but her stomach was rumbling and even though right now it was just disgruntled from the excess of alcohol, she knew that at some point she’d have to eat.

She opened the door and was hit in the face by the light coming from the hallway. Her eyes started seeing stars and she could sense the imminent onset of a headache. She groaned and almost went back inside, but instead let the doors close behind her and headed for the med bay.

She looked at her reflection in the glass doors: she was a mess. She looked like a ghost, and a very unhealthy one, with dark circles under her eyes, dry skin and lifeless hair. But what else could she expect after drinking so much? She liked the clothes though. They didn’t fit her properly, after all Cassian wasn’t the same size as her, but he still managed to find something that she could wear out in public for whatever long it took her to go down a few levels. She didn’t even mind the laundry bags she was carrying—the least she could do to pay him back was to drop them at the washer’s.

She sneaked into the med bay hoping no one would see her raid the medicine cabinet. Not that she was doing anything illegal, but she really didn’t want to give any explanations, especially to Aidan, who was covering her shift for the day. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone in sight.

“Party hard last night?” she heard Dr. Crane’s voice from behind her, and her heard almost broke out of her chest. How could these people walk so silently?

“It wasn’t a party, but it was definitely hard,” she groaned, picking a tonic and some painkillers from the cabinet. This was going to make her feel better, she hoped. Only after Dr. Crane started snickering did she realize what she’d said. “The drinking I mean,” she laughed, embarrassed.

“Of course, of course,” the doctor laughed. “I like your style this morning,” he said, and Cora could feel her cheeks starting to burn. “Cassian’s uniform suits you.”

“Well,” she mumbled, closing the cabinet and getting ready to leave the galaxy, “accidents happened.” She lifted the laundry bags, but she had no idea what he got from that, nor did she care, she just wanted to be back in her room, away from people, nursing her hangover. “I’ll be off, then,” she said with a goofy smile, heading for the door.

“Make sure to eat something,” he yelled after her, but Cora just waved goodbye, before nearly colliding with Aidan who seemed to be returning from lunch.

“Morning,” she said on a high pitched tone. It really wasn’t the best day to keep bumping into people, but it was her fault for trying to sneak into dangerous places.

“Morning? It’s noon,” he laughed, but she could feel him eyeing her suspiciously.

“I have no excuse,” she shrugged and hurried out of there, before he could ask her about her disheveled state.

She almost ran back to her quarters, but luckily didn’t bump into anyone else on the way to the underground level. The adrenaline seemed to boost the hangover symptoms, so she drank the tonic and a painkiller, hoping for the best.

She changed into her own clothes after taking a quick shower, planning to spend the rest of the day until dinner huddled in blankets, reading something on her datapad, when she heard a knock on her door. She groaned, hoping it wasn’t an emergency, because drinking the night before had really taken a toll on her.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Enoch,” one of the soldiers greeted her. The serious look on his face sent a shiver down her spine. “Senator Mothma has requested your presence in the war room.”

“Is it an emergency?” Cora asked, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She wondered if she should change into her medical uniform.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “I haven’t been told anything. But it seemed a bit urgent.”

“Alright,” she said, and stepped out of her room, the blast doors closing behind her. “Lead the way.”

She kept biting her lip on the way up, anxiety growing with every step she took. The feeling that something bad was about to happen was once again overwhelming, and Cora had to make a superhuman effort to keep a straight face.

The war room was full of people, but none of them paid any attention to her walking in. Last time she’d walked in there was a group of people waiting for her to be interrogated. This time their eyes were glued to different screens and no one stopped what they were doing, not even to say hello. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Doctor Enoch,” Mon Mothma said, coming into her line of sight followed closely by Draven. “We’re sorry to have demanded your presence on your day off, but we’ve been told that you might have some information on Galen Erso.”

---

Masterlist in bio

#cassian andor x oc #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fanfiction #star wars

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pckarchives · 4 years

Text

beneath the cut , you’ll find random tidbits of info that i thought up at unholy hours of the night. took all day but tbh ..... this was therapy. i really said, “i’ll make my own damn self happy,” and it shows.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟏. › alicia marie levesque boyd-whitley.

► hobbies ➔ painting and decoration, primarily. for the most part, this is due to the nostalgia of doing it with her moms. she’s not awful at it, but she’s not van gogh levels of good, either. it’s just for fun, as all things should be. she’s also incredibly creative, so things like renovation ideas come easy to her. she did ballet for several years, but dropped it before she moved to beacon hills. ► social media handles ➔ she’s aleesha on just about everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ mostly conventional, with a series of emojis attached to every name. ► favorite color ➔ green. but sea foam-ish green. ► favorite video game ➔ animal crossing new horizons. she’s a simple bitch; she sees cute animals, she plays the damn game. ► favorite song ➔ style by taylor swift. ► favorite scent ➔ pumpkin spice! not to be totally cliché, but that scent is unbeatable. she has a million candles with that scent alone. ► favorite band/artist ➔ taylor swift, of course. ► favorite place to be ➔ nana’s house! ► favorite season ➔ winter! she had so much fun with lucy over this past winter and if that’s the way lucy acts every year for christmas, then alicia looks forward to it! ► favorite word ➔ squishy. ► favorite meme ➔ maybe so.gif ► if they were an animal ➔ cheetah! ► if they were a color ➔ beige. no longer the pure white she once was, but not the tar pit that she could have been, either. a beautiful mixture of purities and imperfections. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *going through the five stages of grief* HHHHHHHHH !!!!! someone just slid in my dms and *voice cracking* this is what they said.... *sobbing* gIRL.... *sniffle* HNNNNNN..... you should sell hoT DOGs.... ‘cause you know how to make a weiner stand. hNNNNNN.... HNNNNN!!!!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ shake it off. ► aesthetic ➔ paint-stained overalls, tear tracks covered in glitter and flower petals, crooked fingers snagging the last slice of pizza out the box, thick-framed glasses with the lens popped out, it’s for the aesthetic, sharpie’d converse kicks and open hearts doodled onto the palm of your hand –– darling girl, someone will really love you one day. ► motto ➔ “it really do be like that sometimes.” ► theme song ➔ lights up by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟐. › amari rose kent.

► hobbies ➔ writing, mostly out of spite. in middle school, she had a meeting with the principal, during which he told her she was at risk of being expelled, due to how many teachers had issues with her. this was the same principal who told her she would never get anywhere, hanging off of tate’s coattails, so she wrote a 50-page paper in the span of one week, shaming the school for its discrimination and unethical practices when it came to students. instead of giving the paper to the principal, she submitted it to the board of education and got the man fired. not only did the essay make it onto local news, it also got her a scholarship to devenford prep; lucky, since tatum had already been offered a scholarship and was on the verge of turning it down because she wouldn’t go without amari. though she hasn’t spitefully written anything that huge since, she is still not afraid to thinkshame. also dabbles in poetry and collage-making. ► social media handles ➔ amari_rose on twitter and instagram. she surprisingly does not have a snapchat! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, she’s giving nicknames. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ she doesn’t play video games, so she doesn’t know. ► favorite song ➔ bad guy by billie eilish. ► favorite scent ➔ not to kinkshame, but.... leather. ► favorite band/artist ➔ billie eilish, she is not ashamed! ► favorite place to be ➔ wherever tate and owen are, honestly. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ bullshit. ► favorite meme ➔ thA’TS MY OPINION !!!! ► if they were an animal ➔ panther. ► if they were a color ➔ silver. black is a hard color to obtain and she hardly comes close. she’s got all the darkness she doesn’t need, but the world put that in her. still, she’s close to light, too; close to breathing in sunlight. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ to the mIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER –– yes, YOU, you know who you are –– who said EYE would never be shit, LOOK AT ME NOW, WHORE ! LOOK AT ME NOW .... not shit. and HOW YOU LIKE IT ? *twerks belligerently* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ sad beautiful tragic. ► aesthetic ➔ messily chopped hair in the bathroom sink, tongue poked out to lick ketchup off of nimble fingers, rushed words in a lost diary, a bottle drifting out at sea, cigarette smoke and tequila-coated daydreams, harsh breaths in and out and in and out, bruised knuckles and bleeding lips, we’re not done here. ► motto ➔ “chin up, chest out.” ► theme song ➔ all the good girls go to hell by billie eilish. alternatively, kiwi by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑. › camden wesley layton lahey.

► hobbies ➔ he took up woodworking a few years back. therapy and whatnot. he likes making little birds and figurines out of wood, keeps a box of them in his nightstand. ► social media handles ➔ he’s not on social media! he’s old, leave him alone. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. again, he’s old, leave him! ► favorite color ➔ grassy green. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s always going to be a sucker for mario party. that game is unfairly frustrating, but he would ride or die for it. ► favorite song ➔ i of the storm by of monsters and men. ► favorite scent ➔ peppermint! it used to make him sick, because it’s such a strong smell, but it’s now his absolute favorite thing in the world. ► favorite band/artist ➔ gorillaz. ► favorite place to be ➔ he honestly prefers closed spaces? tight spaces where he can see every corner, every entrance, every exit, every tile on the floor. whenever he starts panicking, he will sneak away to the nearest closet or something. ► favorite season ➔ spring. rebirth, babyyy. ► favorite word ➔ dammit. ► favorite meme ➔ it’s free real estate. ► if they were an animal ➔ german shepard. ► if they were a color ➔ light pink. this strange mix between the pure white of being a blank slate and the awful red of having spilled more blood than he can even remember. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ AWWWWWWW 😍😍 awww, i’m gonna die alone 🤗🤗🤗 awww !!! i’m never gonna know what it’s like to be LOVED, AWWWWWW !!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ holy ground. ► aesthetic ➔ sweat-dotted skin, racing heart, jingling dog tags, checking the locks on the door once and then again and then again and once more just to be sure, hesitant hands and wet eyes, a smile that’s easy even when nothing else is, sunlight pouring in through a cracked window, a step closer to an answer, five steps back. ► motto ➔ “sure, jan.” ► theme song ➔ clint eastwood by gorillaz.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒. › charles gerard argent.

► hobbies ➔ someone should tell him that working out isn’t a personality trait, but it really is his hobby. your depression can’t catch up to you, if you’re getting these gainz. ► social media handles ➔ he’s charliecharlie on everything, because he’s funny. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ it used to be creative, but man, that depression hit him hard and he switched to conventional. ► favorite color ➔ white. ► favorite video game ➔ fortnite, shut the fuck up, liam, he doesn’t want to hear it. ► favorite song ➔ perfect ruin by kwabs. ► favorite scent ➔ salt water. ► favorite band/artist ➔ clairo. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the beach. he takes frequent drives up to the closest beach, ► favorite season ➔ summer. beach time! all the time! ► favorite word ➔ yeet. ► favorite meme ➔ y E E T. ► if they were an animal ➔ raven. ► if they were a color ➔ a myriad of colors; there are so many facets to charlie and until he figures out exactly where he is in life, he’s going to keep creating a puddle of colors. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *dancing and singing to the tune of under the sea* ptsd 🤪 anxiety 🤪 crippling depression, there is no question, you should kill me !! let me be with HARAMBE 😤✊ i feel like shit every day ! i’m asking nicely, do it by drowning, under da sea 🌊🌊 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ getaway car. ► aesthetic ➔ that damnable water’s edge, the view from the top of a mountain, gnawed fingernails and scraped skin, 11:11 and back again, holstered knives and picturesque smiles, droplets of blood spilled into cold coffee, palm grazing the door to happiness but not quite opening it yet ––– another day and you might just make it. ► motto ➔ “que ce sang protège ceux qui ne peuvent se protéger.” ► theme song ➔ broken bones by kaleo.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓. › cora vienna hale.

► hobbies ➔ lowkey has a love of mechanics. she doesn’t trust anyone else to repair her bike, so she learned how to do it herself. also learned how to fix cars, because scott is always messing his up. also still plays soccer when she has the time. ► social media handles ➔ she’s just corahale on everything. it’s more “professional” than what she had before. which was... a series of expletives that made lydia blush. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless she really hates you. then she can get creative. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ detroit: become human. ► favorite song ➔ hold on just a little while longer from d:bh. luther snapped. ► favorite scent ➔ pinecones. ► favorite band/artist ➔ bryson tiller. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house. it feels good to be able to go there again and not be assaulted with all of the reminders of what she lost. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ buttercup. look her in the eye and tell her it’s not the cutest word you’ve ever heard. exactly, you can’t. ► favorite meme ➔ looks into the camera like she’s on the office. ► if they were an animal ➔ lion. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. pure and beautiful; maybe not innocent, maybe not for everyone. but royal and bold and unrelenting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ sO... .i just went to starbucks and i got my iced coffee and i was standing in line and these little girls were looking at me. *sniff* and i was like, “okay, funny joke.” so i, um, i’m s–– i’m waiting for my coffee, uh, at starbucks, and these other little girls were just, like, LOOKING AT ME and they kept on staring and then this DAD kept on looking and then he kept on staring. and *uncomfortable laughter* ....... *more laughter* ..... *turns on music* *keeps laughing* *turns music off* what kind of sick fucking joke ? .... *uncomfortable shrugging* ...i EXIST ? *more laughter* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ clean. ► aesthetic ➔ a horrid red fire meets a river of blue, gasoline stains on faded tees, an unexpected smile on a rainy day, the way the forest breathes after a rainstorm, skintight dresses and haughty gazes, a smirk that rests for no one, the innocence of a white wolf in a prom dress. ► motto ➔ “flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo.” ► theme song ➔ big god by florence and the machine. alt. the man by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟔. › daniel nahele mahealani.

► hobbies ➔ he no longer loves hacking or music, because... whew, high school killed everything he cared about. mostly sticks to being lydia’s dress up doll. ► social media handles ➔ he’s d-annyboy on all things, because it’s easy! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless he’s trying to hide something from jackson and lydia. lydia is not afraid to go through his phone, which he genuinely doesn’t mind, that’s why she knows all of his passwords and stuff. but he does not need her to know how many guys he’s fucked that she didn’t like, he’s not here for the lectures. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ wii sports still outsells, he is not taking criticism or debate on this topic. ► favorite song ➔ magic in the hamptons by social house. ► favorite scent ➔ hot chocolate. ► favorite band/artist ➔ childish gambino. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the risk of being gay, wherever theo is. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ pack. he loves feeling loved, sue him. ► favorite meme ➔ kermit spreading his asshole. ► if they were an animal ➔ elephant. ► if they were a color ➔ orange; just on the cusp of happiness, but always holding back. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ hEY GUYS, i’m just really co–– really confused, ‘cause what does fall have to do with fuckboys 🧐🤔 ‘cause I’VE been fucking boys .... EVERY MONTH, winter, fucking februarymarchaprilmay, june, december... dULY ... *someone taps on the trunk of the car* *looks back* ...that’s my dad *frantic zoom-in* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ afterglow. ► aesthetic ➔ scar-littered skin and callused hands, abandoned hobbies and hopes and dreams, all stashed to the back of the infamous closet, dimples cheeked and optimistic eyes, high school jerseys folded in the drawer, letterman jackets treated like sacrosanct, the memory of when things were simpler and the rain didn’t last so long. ► motto ➔ “this could be worse.” ► theme song ➔ clementine by halsey.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟕. › derek alexander hale.

► hobbies ➔ book collecting. as their lives continue to not make sense, he collects books on any and every odd ‘myth’ out there and just waits for the day it comes in handy. ► social media handles ➔ lydia has made him dhale on everything, because he’s boring. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. he now has a lock on every app in his phone, because fiona and lydia will happily break into his phone to change his contacts, if he’s not careful. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ he doesn’t often play video games, but he will school these youngsters in a game of yahtzee! ► favorite song ➔ when doves cry by prince. ► favorite scent ➔ something baking in the oven. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prince. no, he is not talking about it. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house, when the entire pack is there. close second is the loft, when everyone is there. he’ll complain until he’s blue in the face, but everyone knows he’s secretly weak for that. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ no. ► favorite meme ➔ blinking white guy. ► if they were an animal ➔ i... a wolf. ► if they were a color ➔ tree bark brown; steady and stern and stable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *standing at the bathroom door, glaring* if it breaks. one more time. don’t ––– shut your mouth. if it breaks while i’m sleeping, i will grab you by the neck and shove you down the shower drain. *continues to glare* ......... i’m going to take my shower now. *slowly and threateningly closes the door* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ daylight. ► aesthetic ➔ shattered handcuffs, ashes spread across the floor, delayed inhales and painful exhales, a pool of flowers at your feet ––– begin again. ► motto ➔ “no.” ► theme song ➔ sinnerman by nina simone.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟖. › dominic joseph kim.

► hobbies ➔ yoga, meditation, brewery, skin and haircare routines, and swimming! a king stays busy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s domkimi on snapchat, instagram and twitter, but he’s baddiebbarbietingz on reddit. he has a tumblr account, but he refuses to tell the pack what his username is. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative. feel free to look through his phone, but good fucking luck figuring out who is who. ► favorite color ➔ gold. ► favorite video game ➔ sims 4. he gets the chance to actually build a sustainable life? with a family? in a house? with cheat codes? and love? and aliens? and lovers who become plants? sign him the fuck up. ► favorite song ➔ would you mind by prettymuch. good form by nicki minaj is a close runner-up. ‘cause he do, in fact, be the baddie b barbie tingz banging body b, everybody be on his d, cause he gotta be in reality–– ► favorite scent ➔ pizza! if it’s not good for you, why does it smell so good? make it make sense. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prettymuch. ► favorite place to be ➔ tate’s lab! it’s where he and owen do most of their brewing, aside from their field trips to the greenhouse to get more ingredients. it’s basically where dominic does his best and calmest work. close second is his own apartment, because he does yoga in the living room each morning. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ cecelia. ► favorite meme ➔ who said that.gif. ► if they were an animal ➔ a turtle! specifically, one of the turtles from finding nemo. ► if they were a color ➔ blue. calm and collected. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ so i said i’m a switch on tiktok, right ? and now all these ladies are comin’ out of the woodwork like, “hey, i got a strap-on and a dog collar with your name on it ! ” 😳😳 and i’m like... you put my name on it ? 😍👉👈 /// alternatively: theee necklace my boyfriend bought me just came in the mail *zoom in on necklace* ....I’M my boyfriend ! i bought this for myself ! EEE *excited grin* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ style. ► aesthetic ➔ the push and pull of a tidal wave, a dash of eyeliner here and a bit of mascara there, collared shirts and wrinkled jeans, overrated pop over a bluetooth speaker, a fascination with milkshakes and musicals, a heart that beats out of rhythm but never misses a step. ► motto ➔ “the birds work for the bourgeoisie.” ► theme song ➔ good thing by zedd and kehlani.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟗. › elliot james aldridge.

► hobbies ➔ aside from his bathtub poetry and crime, he has revived his love of cooking and music. is masterful at the piano, guitar and harp, dabbles in cello and flute. he likes his music pretty, okay, sue him. ► social media handles ➔ redacted by the fcc. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ depends on how much he likes you! if you’re kosher, you get a creative name. if not... you get your own name. ► favorite color ➔ blood red. unironically. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s a poker man, but if he has to choose a video game, meet him in super smash brothers. ► favorite song ➔ say so by doja cat. ► favorite scent ➔ blood. ► favorite band/artist ➔ hozier. ► favorite place to be ➔ no offense, but the french quarter in new orleans. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ self-care. ► favorite meme ➔ why would you say something so controversial, yet so brave? ► if they were an animal ➔ hyena. one of the asshole ones from lion king. ► if they were a color ➔ red. he’s not hiding that. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’mnotfallingi’mnotfallingi’mnotfalling, i’m not f a l l i n g, i’m not FALLING, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not fALLING....... !! *deep breath* oKAY, i’m falling. /// alternative: the oNLY reason i have not destroyed the world is because i have not had ice cream in a while, i want some ice cream. but tRUST ME, when i get some ice cream ? your ass is grass and i’m the lawn mower ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ ready for it? ► aesthetic ➔ a hoop of sterling silver, initials carved into dying trees, tempting eyes and a charming smile, cufflinks left on the nightstand, a prison cell and a funny story, top three buttons left undone, far too aware for his own damn good. ► motto ➔ "excuse me, i'm new in town and it gets worse." ► theme song ➔ sunlight by hozier.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟎. › erica juliet reyes.

► hobbies ➔ tracking deucalion and peter, for one thing, but that’s more of a job than anything else. does raving count as a hobby? she’s officially taken up rock climbing, by the way. a huge slap in the face to her epilepsy. ► social media handles ➔ she changes her handles frequently, because she’s indecisive, she can’t decide–– but she’s currently reyofsunshine on everything. shoutout to fiona. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative and often explicit! ► favorite color ➔ sand brown, don’t @ her. ► favorite video game ➔ until dawn. understand the palm of my hand, bitch.... jesus hot sauce christmas cake.... what were you tweeting, hashtag there’s a freaking ghost after us? your fave could never! ► favorite song ➔ hot girl bummer by blackbear. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy or fee’s baking. she’ll come home just for that. ► favorite band/artist ➔ blackbear. ► favorite place to be ➔ at a party. she’s very into raves. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ motherfucker. ► favorite meme ➔ respect the drip, karen. ► if they were an animal ➔ a horse. enticingly beautiful but will also kill you. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. not as pure as cora’s gold, but twice as inviting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ all i’m gonna say is that i didn’t take ap classes in high school, escape the friend zone, graduate with honors, get cheated on, go to college, mentally deteriorate, become addicted to nicotine, sign a year lease, drop a sorority, fail chemistry and dye my hair purple, just to cry over the frat boy leaving me on read that smokes weed for breakfast, lunch and dinner 💁🏼 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ false god. ► aesthetic ➔ push-up bras covered in black lace, smeared lipstick against the bathroom mirror, jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, a wolf that lies in wait and fears no god, the epitome of poison. ► motto ➔ “meanwhile, back at the ranch...” ► theme song ➔ needed me by rihanna.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟏. › fiona evelyn porter.

► hobbies ➔ baking, pinterest, cheer, volleyball and softball. truly depends on the season. ► social media handles ➔ feezypeezyporter stays true to her brand. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! her contact ids are indecipherable, the only people who can understand them are katie and cass. dom gave up. ► favorite color ➔ light green and light pink! ► favorite video game ➔ beat saber! ► favorite song ➔ love again by carly rae jepsen. ► favorite scent ➔ is.... is it gay to say cass? ► favorite band/artist ➔ carly rae jepsen. ► favorite place to be ➔ the loft! it really is her happiest place. alternatively, wherever cass is, ‘cause that’s home, babey! ► favorite season ➔ spring! baby sticks to her brand. ► favorite word ➔ braggadocio. how on EARTH is that a real word? ► favorite meme ➔ let me see what you have. a kNIFE! NO! ► if they were an animal ➔ cardinal. ► if they were a color ➔ green. the color of grass, covering everything, everything, everything. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *crying and sipping tea* it... is ver .... very b... bold of you to assume ............. ! *pained smile* /// alternatively: ONE OF YOU FAT BITCHES UNFOLLOWED ME !!! *manic laughter* i’m not mad, but like...... *climbs onto bathroom sink and leans in very close* what was the last straw ? ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ me! ► aesthetic ➔ bare lips passing over green leaves, a lullaby to a struggling orchid, spanks and sweat drops and a desperate need for approval, a digital scale blinking red numbers back at you, pills of white and blue and yellow, maybe tomorrow you’ll be happy again. ► motto ➔ “team work makes the dream work!” ► theme song ➔ work this out from the high school musical 2 soundtrack.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟐. › hayden louisa romero.

► hobbies ➔ she has a love of sports. got into lacrosse before her imprisonment, though she was a little too fragile to play a real game. was a soccer star as a kid. also puts on glamour shows for the kids and the dogs, if they ask. ► social media handles ➔ she doesn’t have social media. imprisonment tingz. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, you get an emoji or two at the end of your name. ► favorite color ➔ ocean blue. ► favorite video game ➔ will forever be weak for pokémon. ► favorite song ➔ 1985 by bowling for soup. timeless. ► favorite scent ➔ french vanilla. ► favorite band/artist ➔ she’s getting into melanie martinez. ► favorite place to be ➔ bias goes to being with the ito pack, but the preserve is pretty much paradise. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ covenant. ► favorite meme ➔ and i oop––– ► if they were an animal ➔ manta ray. harmless babey. ► if they were a color ➔ prism clear. a maze of reflections, but so fucking breakable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ you mess with ME ? w ..... ! y...... ! *vague hand movements* you probably aren’t gonna experience any problems, because i’m afraid of confrontation !! /// alternative: *struggling to place lamp inside of another lamp* i JUST TOOK A TEN HOUR NAP ??? *panic* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ it’s nice to have a friend. ► aesthetic ➔ scars lifted among tanned skin, wary glances to read every room, crop tops floating above your belly, a lack of cares for a world that cares a little too much, marked skin and glossed lips, wanna make a deal with an angel? ► motto ➔ “my priority is me.” ► theme song ➔ i know by pink sweat$.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟑. › judith wendy mayer-argent.

► hobbies ➔ biking! she does it primarily for work, but she also does it for fun. also, huge gamer. and protestor. baby keeps busy. ► social media handles ➔ mayerjude. she can make so many jokes out of her own last name, don’t tempt her. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! unless it’s someone important or authoritative. then they get their own name. ► favorite color ➔ sunshine yellow. ► favorite video game ➔ fornite. ► favorite song ➔ sunday candy by donnie trumpet and the social experiment. ► favorite scent ➔ cupcakes! the frosting! the delicacy! ► favorite band/artist ➔ maroon 5. ► favorite place to be ➔ in the middle of a protest, rally or march. if she’s not in action, then what is she doing? ► favorite season ➔ spring. ► favorite word ➔ audit. ► favorite meme ➔ surprised pikachu. ► if they were an animal ➔ dolphin. ► if they were a color ➔ sunset orange. no, i will not elaborate. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *walking down the street* so we were peer reviewing papers in one of my classes aaaand this girl goes, “you use some FANCY LANGUAGE ! ” and i was like, “what word ? ” and she was like, “perpetuate.” .........on GOD, we gon’ get you a dictionary. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ don’t blame me. ► aesthetic ➔ sunflowers pushing up from freshly dug graves, a smile away to keep the doctors away, sprained wrists wrapped in inappropriate laughter, bruised knuckles and black eyes, drink in hand, swinging your hips to that voicemail left by your toxic ex-boyfriend. ► motto ➔ “just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...” ► theme song ➔ modern love by david bowie.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟒. › kali kaira laghari.

► hobbies ➔ knitting. she has abandoned all of her self-care and therapy ideals, now knits and talks to ghosts. mind ya business. ► social media handles ➔ she’s not on social media, either. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. she has no times for games. ► favorite color ➔ red. she’s a scorpio, what do you expect? ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but she’ll take mortal kombat any day. ► favorite song ➔ nintendo game by alessia cara. ► favorite scent ➔ tea! ► favorite band/artist ➔ alessia cara. ► favorite place to be ➔ aside from wherever rohan is, she prefers the bookstore. confrontations aside, it’s a very small space, quiet and relaxing. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ goddess. and yes, for exactly the reason you think. ► favorite meme ➔ as a treat. ► if they were an animal ➔ scorpion. ► if they were a color ➔ smoky grey. everything’s a little hazy with this one. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *staring at the food on the table, slowly losing her mind while everyone else argues over murder* *holds head in hands* *bangs hands on table repeatedly, screaming* WHAT ARE WE THANKFUL FOR !!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ i did something bad. ► aesthetic ➔ cross-legged sitting in the middle of the road, waiting for a new thrill, fingertips grazing the harsh blade beneath your skirt, popcorn and wine with a man you could’ve loved if you were both a little less fucked up, a question that should never be answered, a world-view that should never be defiled –––– and you did it all. ► motto ➔ “i don’t need permission or advice; just help.” ► theme song ➔ simmer by hayley williams. you should see me in a crown by billie eilish.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟓. › kira fuyuko yukimura.

► hobbies ➔ she trains to keep herself calm. often talks with her fox nowadays; she wants to build trust. and given that kira is doing fuck all to deal with her issues, she needs someone to talk to her. she and her fox get along a lot better these days. she also runs, practices lacrosse maneuvers on her own and plays with lightbulbs. ► social media handles ➔ she’s a simple woman: kyuki. cut the fluff, cut the extraness. also, kyuki is what she’s named her fox. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, save for people who warrant a creative one. aka those whose names she doesn’t know. you would be surprised at how many there are. ► favorite color ➔ purple. ► favorite video game ➔ also a fan of animal crossing! ► favorite song ➔ ahead of myself by the ambassadors. ► favorite scent ➔ cinnamon. ► favorite band/artist ➔ the ambassadors. ► favorite place to be ➔ it’s dorky to say, but she likes being with her parents! they’re still in new york, so she doesn’t get that chance as much. however, her second favorite place to be is.... her bed. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ poppy. ► favorite meme ➔ guess i’ll die.png ► if they were an animal ➔ truly a fox. ► if they were a color ➔ steel blue. baby is electric. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i might be a BIG, DUMB, GAY BITCH ................ !! *smirks at camera* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ cruel summer. ► aesthetic ➔ a thunderstorm in your bedroom, leather gloves pulled over dainty hands, quick footwork and sly gazes, untied shoe laces dragging across the floor, leggings beneath skirts, quiet meditation before bed, sharp teeth poking into bruised lips. ► motto ➔ “yeah, this isn’t weird at all.” ► theme song ➔ fall in line by christina aguilera and demi lovato.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏��. › liam stephen dunbar.

► hobbies ➔ lacrosse no longer counts as a hobby, considering he made it his entire life. does training with allison count as a hobby? does texting gwen bad jokes count? ‘cause that’s all he does, my guy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s dvnbcr on everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, until fiona gets her hands on his phone and changes his ids again. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s that guy who plays all of the 2k nba games. like, he has to stan. ► favorite song ➔ i don’t care by fall out boy. ► favorite scent ➔ turf. he’s a loser, what do you expect? ► favorite band/artist ➔ fall out boy and kendrick lamar are tied. ► favorite place to be ➔ the lacrosse field. he does not stray from his brand. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. lax season! ► favorite word ➔ shit. fuck is a close runner-up. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ve won.... but at what cost? ► if they were an animal ➔ rhinoceros. ► if they were a color ➔ gray; that perfect intersection between white and black, good and bad, wolf and bomb. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *talking to his mom while she’s watching tv.* hey, mom? will you pause that? you know that guy i’m talking to is 6′4″? can’t wait to get my shit wrecked. so you are a bottom. ...wait. okay, i.... that’s not what you’re supposed to say! what am i supposed to say? don’t –– not that! *goes to sit next to her* i’m 👏 not 👏 a 👏 bottom 👏. bullshit. *confused look of betrayal* is this legal? have you ever done anything for anybody else? no, you’re a taker. /// alternatively: *trying to start a fire* hope so ! you gonna let the fire breathe or you gonna fuckin’ suffocate it ? i will end your goddamn short ass piece of shit useless life. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ this is why we can’t have nice things. ► aesthetic ➔ a rage that you can never quite tame, hand broken from too many punches, the green of fresh cut grass, car mileage piling up, miles and miles and miles left to go, bashful smiles and reddened skin. kid, you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are. ► motto ➔ “i blame scott.” ► theme song ➔ dr. whoever by aminé.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟕. › lydia charlene martin.

► hobbies ➔ sewing clothes, throwing parties, picking up new languages, ruling the world, saving this pack from falling apart, doing everything in this goddamn house! ► social media handles ➔ queenlydia, but who’s surprised? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ convention meets creativity in lydia’s phone. everyone has their first name, with a lord/lady/duke/duchess/etc. attached to it. jackson is the only one with king, obviously. you know you’re in trouble when she attaches peasant to your name. good luck climbing your way back up the ladder. ► favorite color ➔ pink. ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but dead by daylight is that bitch. ► favorite song ➔ honey by kesha. ► favorite scent ➔ strawberries. ► favorite band/artist ➔ kesha. ► favorite place to be ➔ in jackson’s arms, she is not taking that back. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ throne and jackson are tied. ► favorite meme ➔ why are you booing me? i’m right! ► if they were an animal ➔ swan. ► if they were a color ➔ purple. royalty is not a game, kids. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ not a vine or tiktok, but yes, it’s me 💅🏽 & you guys are mad about it ohmygod i make y’all feel that 🤢 well, i just wanted to pop up here & show y'all how i'm doing ! i'm doing great. i'm looking great, i'm feeling great, y'know 💇🏽 i'm obviously over here very booked & busy, while you bitches over here are still looking raggedy & not doing shit ! hahaha ! WOW ! 💁🏽 but anyway, um, i just wanted to let y'all know i'm not going anywhere. so talk your shit, you shitholes ! you can't defeat a bad bitch ! you just cannot do that ! i rise above that ! EW 🤮 so i just wanted to say hey ! & that i'm here to stayyy ! & you gon' be mad everydayyy ! HAHAHA ! SUCCESS ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ paper rings. ► aesthetic ➔ a crown that fits just perfect, newly manicured nails, breakfasts at tiffany’s and on decorated balconies, the picture on the altar, damp curls and loose braids, tight dresses and sinful heels, brave but never fearless. ► motto ➔ “i’m lydia fucking martin.” ► theme song ➔ okay, okay by alessia cara.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟖. › scott lucas mccall.

► hobbies ➔ video games! he also likes helping the pack renovate whenever they decide to. though he has put fiona on a limit. after she redesigned her room five times in two weeks, he finally had to put his foot down. ► social media handles ➔ he is the most disorganized of the bunch. he’s scootermccall on snapchat, scottymccall on instagram, scotthewmccall on twitter because he’s weak for whatever fiona asks. it’s a mess, but he’s not changing. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, but with lots of emojis to show he cares. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he wants to say mario kart, because that’s his and lucy’s thing and, um, he’s in love with her. but other than that! life is strange. he hasn’t figured out how to win yet, but gosh dammit, that’s not going to stop him from trying. ► favorite song ➔ dna by lia marie johnson. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy’s perfume! ► favorite band/artist ➔ panic! at the disco. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the vet! he’s so happy when he’s around animals and it feels good to know that he’s helping these animals get better? ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ lucy. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ll be honest, i can’t read. ► if they were an animal ➔ golden retriever. ► if they were a color ➔ yellow. speaks for itself. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i had an essay that was due at 11:59. instead of being a smart, responsible student, i decided to wait until 11:40 .... to START my essay. i finished the essay on time. but the gag is............. it was a five-page essay. and i got it done in sixteen minutes. *dancing* they gon’ hate me regardless, that’s why i do what i do ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ state of grace. ► aesthetic ➔ a lighthouse drawing in the lost, the open door of a sunken ship, wrongly buttoned plaid shirts, clumsy fingers and stumbling feet, saddened eyes that follow healing hands, the suspension of disbelief ––– whatever that means. ► motto ➔ “everything will work out!” ► theme song ➔ only the young by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟗. › tatum coretta bellfleur.

► hobbies ➔ nanotech mechanics! she learned as a way to make things for owen and amari that they couldn’t afford to buy. won a few competitions, got a few scholarships, got into programs that taught her how to do greater things than she’d ever imagined. took up baton twirling at devenford, but gave it up when she got to college. fiona is trying to convince her take it up again next year. ► social media handles ➔ she’s tatertot on everything, courtesy of one judith mayer. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. keep it simple, thanks. ► favorite color ➔ silver! it’s so pretty. ► favorite video game ➔ death stranding. no, she will not elaborate. ► favorite song ➔ mo money mo problems by notorious b.i.g. ► favorite scent ➔ flowers! ► favorite band/artist ➔ tupac. yes, she is that bitch. ► favorite place to be ➔ her lab. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ free. ► favorite meme ➔ you know i had to do it to ‘em. ► if they were an animal ➔ doe. ► if they were a color ➔ white. no matter how much she hates being protected, she’s the picture of purity. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *sitting in front of a mirror.* maybe.......... i’m the problem 🤨 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ out of the woods. ► aesthetic ➔ a blanket of snow covering the grime and pain of yesterday, contained explosions and soft humming, tight ponytails breaking cheap rubber bands, tongue poking out the side of your mouth, the sun peeking through the slits of your blinds, wondering where you’ve been these last couple’a days. ► motto ➔ “i’ve lived through this before, i’ll live through it again.” ► theme song ➔ 100 years by florence and the machine.

#ii. study. › a. boyd .#ii. study. › a. kent .#ii. study. › c. argent .#ii. study. › c. hale .#ii. study. › c. lahey .#ii. study. › d. hale .#ii. study. › d. kim .#ii. study. › d. mahealani .#ii. study. › e. aldridge .#ii. study. › e. reyes .#ii. study. › f. porter .#ii. study. › h. romero .#ii. study. › j. mayer .#ii. study. › k. laghari .#ii. study. › k. yukimura .#ii. study. › l. dunbar .#ii. study. › l. martin .#ii. study. › s. mccall .#ii. study. › t. bellfleur .

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treatian · 4 years

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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 39: The Dragon After

Cora was up to something, but it was difficult to tell what it was exactly. He'd noticed of late that she was becoming increasingly paranoid, hanging blankets and clothes over the mirrors just as he'd taught her to as if she was trying to keep someone from watching her. She'd done it in her own private offices and studies, even in her bedroom and the place she kept her magic. Was it paranoia? A lucky guess? Or had he gotten sloppy and used the wrong spell one night, allowing himself to be seen in the mirror. Whatever the reason, for great chunks of her day, his view was often hindered. In the place where she practiced her magic, his only saving grace was that the red cloth she'd placed over one of her mirrors was thin. He couldn't see everything, but he could make out outlines and tinted colors. She was working with something. Something long with two colors, one dark and one light. But he couldn't make out much more than that. He'd tried looking through the cauldron, but she'd cast some kind of spell to block the sight from him. Certainly suspicious.

Fortunately for him, her paranoia only extended so far, and he had a clear picture into most of the rest of the house, from Regina or from Henry. His vision of them remained just as clear as his vision of all the other players in his little game. David, James, Snow White, and Regina…all still came in clear. And because he could see Regina, he could see the effects Cora had on her. They weren't good. Cora was suddenly devoted to taking her daughter away from the estate. At sixteen she was eligible for marriage and he watched time after time as Cora dressed the girl up in lavish clothes, twisted her hair up into fancy knots, and then paraded her in front of eligible men that were hardly "young". To her it was all about status. It was about finding someone higher up in the food chain than Cora was, closer to the grasp of Queen than she ever would be, and getting Regina there.

But with the age of sixteen came much more than eligibility for marriage. There was also rebellion. And Regina was good at it. He'd been right, Cora's nagging and heartlessness had an obvious effect on Regina. She hated her mother that came in clearly through the mirrors. Her father was her favorite parent and often let her be just who she wanted to be, but he was just as much a pushover in his old age as he'd been in his young age, kowtowing to whatever Cora wanted for their daughter. But as she grew Regina was coming to speak her mind, to show an interest in sneaking off when her mother wasn't looking. Though the art lessons she'd convinced her mother she needed looked harmless and innocent enough, he could see the way that Regina smiled every time she was in her tutor's presence.

Regina was good at rebellion, but unfortunately, Cora was better-an old pro.

He'd watched the scene from the cauldron that morning as the tutor had touched Regina, innocently enough to show her a painting technique if his assumptions were correct, and Cora had thrown him out, devasting Regina. And while Regina was getting very good at sneaking out, Cora had her spies everywhere. The girl was never alone. Recently he'd watched as she'd taken a heart from a young woman Regina had been spending some time with. He was almost positive that Regina had no idea the girl was a slave to her mother. Now, everywhere that Regina went, her mother was almost always there in some form. Including the upcoming ball at King Leopold's castle.

Snow White, Regina, Queen Eva, and Cora all in one place together…that was something he had to watch.

But sometimes plans could go awry. And on the night, as he'd sat in front of the mirror with a small bowl of soup watching the party, he felt a familiar tug in his chest. One of desperation but also power. A power that he recognized. It was strong but ignorable and yet…the party was just starting, people were only just starting to arrive, and Snow White had already been sent to bed. He wasn't happy about it, but in the end, he was forced to admit it was his own curiosity that forced him to answer the call. And when he did, he was glad he had.

Maleficent's home was nothing like it was before. The lush green forest was gone, the ground smoldered and crumbled as if...as if set on fire. He sensed magic, her magic. His body tingled in warning as he drew his power into him for extra protection. What had happened?

It was nearly black inside the cottage, but he could still see the woman he met there sparkled, dripped in jewels and glitter. But her hair hung in lifeless clumps from her head. And her eyes, they were dark, nearly black from where makeup ran down her cheeks. Maleficent had been crying.

"This!" she screeched, throwing a piece of paper at him the moment they locked eyes gazes. "This apple tree! A poisoned apple, the one you told me would take too much time, will it work?!" she demanded. Her voice was choked, crazy. Her eyes were wild though it was difficult to see them with how contorted her face was. She was trying to hold back tears, but only marginally successful.

The last time he'd seen Maleficent, her power had been undeniable, just as it was now. She'd been upset then too, angry. This kind of upset didn't come close to that.

"What happened?" he questioned, trying to piece together what was going on. It had been over a year since he'd seen the Dragon and last he had heard her plan had been successful! Not long after he gave her that spell the Princess, Briar Rose, had "taken ill" as reports claimed. She'd not been seen publicly, but a little look in his mirror had told him the girl was under a sleeping curse. The marriage had been called off, and not long after Prince Stefan had taken a new woman to be his betrothed. Maleficent. He was under the impression that in a month she'd be married to the man just as she wanted. She'd be Queen!

And yet here she sat, in her father's house, the once green foliage around her burned to a black and gray colored char that extended as far as the eye could see. It appeared the dragon had been on a rampage. How had this happened? How had it all gone so wrong so quickly?

But the woman didn't answer. It was as if something broke inside of her. She began to sob, horrid, ugly cries before she doubled over and then fell to the ground, huddled against the hearth clutching her heart. She continued to cry.

"What happened?!"

"She woke up!" the dragon screamed. Blubbering away she wiped her nose on her sleeve then pushed her fingers to her hair, grabbing at it so it clumped together and knotted even more than it was. "After all these years she woke up…" her voice trailed off as she gathered her knees up to her chest and rocked. The result of a woman scorned. The rest of the tale was easy enough to guess.

"Then you must not have prepared the curse correctly," he explained. He wasn't about to have this fall back on him. Their deal was the curse for the scales. He'd delivered. She'd delivered. He had no obligation to make sure her hopes and dreams came true.

"It wasn't me!" she cried out rocking. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. It wasn't me! It was…it was him!" suddenly she took a deep breath, the rocking stopped and her voice…it was a growl. The Dragon. "I've been carrying this burden around with me since it happened…for over a year! And one night I just couldn't take lying to him anymore. I told him."

"The truth?"

"All of it!" she yelled, her legs falling back to the floor as her hands tangled in the strands of her fallen hair. Her chest was moving rapidly, heaving with her upset. Her heart rate was dangerously high for a Dragon and he had the feeling that if he could get a clear look at her eyes they would be yellow. There was danger in this place if they continued on like this. "It was all perfect," she cried on. "We were happy. The King had taken his Briar Rose back and without the Dragon they saw no more need for an army. He was free to marry me, he promised he would."

"Until you told him everything!"

"I had to!" she shouted. "You don't understand! It was a stain on my soul, lying to him!"

"And now he's left you."

She disintegrated again. Throwing her head back against the stone wall and wailing with her eyes closed got her nowhere and it certainly got him worse than nowhere. This was bad, it was very bad. She was hysterical, her heart rate sky high, her body cramping and jerking. That kind of magic moving inward would be dying for release. And if she'd become the Dragon before then she'd know that letting if free would eliminate her pain, but it could also potentially cause her to shift and never shift back. She'd been lucky this time, it seemed. Upset as she was he didn't know if he could continue to be that lucky.

He didn't have time for this. He hadn't come this far only to lose his progress by a scorned woman turning dragon and wreaking havoc in the lives of those he needed. She needed to be calm. Sedate. Unable to shift.

"What happened?" he questioned as he strolled around the kitchen. Obviously she hadn't been to this place in a long while. Aside from the chilly dampness, spiderwebs, and lack of fire, the ingredients for the sleeping curse he'd given her were still in the house, still in plain sight. Including the spindles. It was as if she'd crafted the curse yesterday and then just walked off into her new life. It was foolish and irresponsible, but he could work with that.

"Stefan listened," she explained, her voice suddenly emotionless. "He sat there with a stone face and listened and when I was done…he left. He said…he said…" as she heaved his fingers moved over the ingredients on the table with precision and dexterity. Though he had never made a sleeping curse before in his life some Dark One of old remembered it perfectly. This would have taken time for a lesser witch or wizard to craft, with his magic, he was practically done with a single dose before she could finish her story. Now all he needed was seawater and toadstool.

"He said 'my Briar Rose would never keep anything like this from me' and he left. I thought he'd come back, but a week later the city was buzzing. She was awake! He was by her side and…they're married now!" she squealed. "They're married but…but the Curse! It shouldn't be possible and yet…" A small high pitched cry pushed its way out of her and at that point, her knees drew up to her chest once more and she rested her head there and cried as he poured the single dose of Sleeping Curse into a bucket with an appropriate amount of seawater he summoned from the sea and toadstool he found in the cupboard.

Well, he had to admit, her story was something he hadn't heard, but he hadn't exactly been watching closely. With everything happening with Cora and Regina he'd been focused only on those individuals who were integral in his plot to get back to his son. He didn't check in on his other deals, there was no need! They were nothing to him if they weren't part of what would get him back to his son. The only reason he was doing this now was because he feared what would happen to the Enchanted Forest if a Dragon with her power was released in this state. Around here it seemed that she'd already devastated the land. Closer to home it could have the same result and he wouldn't risk that.

"Funny thing about curses," he explained as he grabbed one of her spindles and dipped it into his concoction before moving around the table. "They can always be broken! I do believe I warned you of this when I first gave it to you."

"True love…he didn't love her!" she cried as he sank down closer to her. "He loved me! He was supposed to love me!"

As she roared the words at him her mouth pulled back in a snarl, but it was her eyes that scared him the most. They were yellow.

Without letting this get farther than it already had he grabbed one of her hands and pressed the needle into the tip of her finger until he saw blood. The effect was almost instantaneous. With a deep and sudden breath of shock, her body immediately relaxed. The contortions on her face eased and she fell back against the wall she had been hunched upon. Her heart rate dropped. Her eyes roamed the small house, suddenly unfocused and watery.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered.

"Sleeping Curse, heavily diluted with toadstool and seawater," he answered in response.

"You've cursed me," she breathed.

"Hardly," he snarled as he got back to his feet. "It's quite the opposite actually. I'm giving you this blessing and this advice free of charge."

Or at least that was what he was going to let her think. In truth, the payment for this was simply that she wouldn't take out her heartbreak on the rest of the world. He thought he'd seen a shadow in her before, now it was so much more. That kind of darkness, once it turned inward on itself would never go away. But this would at least keep her subdued. It is a shame, if he didn't know that he needed to be invested in Regina, Maleficent was exactly the kind of woman he would choose to cast this curse.

"A diluted version of the Sleeping Curse won't put you to sleep, but it'll numb the rest of you, make it so you don't have to feel the Curse of a Broken Heart."

"A Broken Heart…is that what this is?" she put a floppy hand to her chest and for the smallest moment her chest heaved but evened out after only a few seconds. With the curse now flowing through her veins she was incapable of any responses that would involve too much emotion, either good or bad. Essentially, she was dead inside. But as someone who had experienced the effects of such heartbreak before he could honestly say that dead inside was better than feeling it. Most days, he prayed he'd be dead inside.

"It is precisely what you are feeling. And it's not likely to go away, not without a kiss of True Love and seeing as how your candidate just ran off with his own, I'd say that's unlikely. Love…kills more people than you might think."

He watched as she squeezed her eyes together and let her head fall against the hearth. But no tears came. Her legs uncurled from her chest finally as she sat there almost lifeless. She may have been sleeping, but he knew she wasn't. The drug simply took some time to adjust to. Eventually, she'd learn to live with it.

Any curse could be broken by True Love…suddenly he wondered if there is a weakness to exploit in the Dark Curse. Afterall, one day, he'd need it to be broken. By a Savior...a product of True Love...

He waved his hand over the bucket he'd used to mix the potion and tiny bottles filled it up.

"That should be enough to keep you at peace for now. If it wears off a single drop in the bloodstream is all it takes. You'll find your magic duller with its use, and you won't be able to become the Dragon you are which should keep the army at bay. If you're not a threat it'll be difficult to raise desire to kill. But that won't stop your beloved from trying if he's angry. There is a castle close by here, one the Kingdom believes is haunted. I recommend that you get together what you need and take refuge there. Between the hauntings and what they say you can do it should be enough to keep them at bay indefinitely. I can't promise a happy life, but life it shall be. Perhaps you might look into getting a cat…I hear they make great companions for the lonely."

"How long until a Broken Heart is cured? When will I feel like myself again?" she questioned sleepily before he could turn to leave.

"Oh, now that's the problem with love, Dearie," he smiled. "It changes us, molds us into something new and irreversible. You'll never be who you were again. Different you may be, but certainly never the same."

#Rumbelle #Rumple #rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #maleficent #the queen of hearts #Cora #Golden Heart #Regina #The Evil Queen #ouat #ouat fanfic #fanfic

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