An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
🎅 While I'm building up content on this blog, I might as well start with my holiday-adjacent ones~
This is a cute, wintry Teen Wolf piece that's chock-full of fluff and magic. ❄️Give it a try, then tell WhoNatural how much you liked it here.
Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Summary:
Stiles got ratted out by the Realm Guard for sneaking off with Scott a total of seven times before his dad buckled, promising sabbatical once Stiles reached Faehood, and enough Earth culture in the meantime to have him talking like a born-and-bred Californian teenager. He just didn’t have the tan.
(Or, in which Stiles is a Frost Fae sent to the Earth Realm on the Fae version of Rumspringa and immediately falls head-first into a Coffee Shop AU)
Tags:
Winter Fae & Fairies, Fae Stiles Stilinski, Fae Magic, Fish out of Water, Seasonal Worldbuilding, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Loneliness, Awkward Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Coming of Age
Author: whonatural
Rating: Explicit
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV) Ghost (1990) Just Like Heaven (2005)
Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale Stiles Stilinski Sheriff Stilinski Isaac Lahey Vernon Boyd Scott McCall Kira Yukimura Erica Reyes Lydia Martin Peter Hale Garrett (Teen Wolf) Braeden (Teen Wolf) Jordan Parrish Kate Argent Caitlin (Teen Wolf) Mason (Teen Wolf)
Additional Tags: Temporary Character Death Temporary Amnesia Canon-Typical Violence Trauma Comatose Stiles Stilinski Ghosts Ghost Stiles Stilinski Established Relationship Artist Derek College Graduate Stiles Stilinski Grief/Mourning Character Death Mugging con artist Guns Knives Happy Ending Angst with a Happy Ending Hurt/Comfort Humor Mystery Alternate Universe - Ghosts
Published: 2014-11-04
Words: 42,066
Chapters: 1/1
Summary: “I got you, my dad, a gorgeous home... a freaking cat... Guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
It does.
HERE
Scar’s Thoughts: This was great. It has drama, a little angst, a happy ending, and a plethora of cameos from the TW characters.
Because @howlnatural is a giant creative enabler who posted this prompts list and then proceeded to jump right in on her own prompting.
But really though: how could Jack feel guilty about any of it, when staying quiet and letting Bitty talk meant he got to experience the up-close, in person warmth of this little Southern chatterbox every single day?
@howlnatural was waiting for someone to write it so *shrug*
Based on this post
Stiles stares for a long moment at the image on his phone. He knows he’s being unusually quiet when Scott looks over at him in confusion after a full minute of zero running commentary. Scott leans forward and looks at the phone, frown deepening at what he sees.
“Dude what’s wrong?”
“This is Derek Hale.”
Scott lifts an eyebrow as if that’s supposed to mean something.
“My hot doctorate student professor from this semester? The one with amazing arms and beautiful scruff and adorable little bunny teeth? The one that I’ve only told you about like a million times?” Stiles explains with increasing histeria.
Scott’s eyes widen.
“That’s Professor Hale? He’s so young though.”
Stiles rolls his eyes almost hard enough to roll his entire body off the couch.
“That’s what you’re focusing on right now? He’s literally doing a pull-up--shirtless--and you can only focus on how young he is?” he says with clear exasperation.
Scott shrugs. “You know that doesn’t do it for me. But if you bang him you should tell me what gym he goes to. I’ve ever been able to get my arms to look like that.”
Stiles takes a moment to figure out whether he loves or hates his best friend but then decides it isn’t worth the effort. He’s stuck with him either way.
“Should I swipe right?”
Scott shrugs again. “Why not? Semester’s over.”
“Yeah but he was my professor. That’s gonna be weird right?”
Scott shrugs for a third time and then turns back to the movie. “Your choice, dude.”
Stiles swipes right.
It takes until almost eleven o’clock that night before Stiles gets a notification from tinder. By then, he and Scott have finally watched the latest Star Wars movie (courtesy of torrenting--ah the beauty of the internet), complete with an hour long analysis (courtesy of Stiles much to Scott’s chagrin), and Stiles has found his way into his room with his laptop to mess around on the internet for a bit. His phone pings and then lights up next to his thigh on the bed an he reaches for it without thinking.
He almost drops it on his laptop when he sees what the notification is for but refrains simply for the safety of his most precious piece of machinery after Roscoe.
You and ‘Derek Hale’ have matched! Say hello!
His hand shakes a little as he taps his way into the app, just in time to see a message pop up on screen.
‘I’ll take this slightly awkward opportunity to tell you your final grade: B’
At first, Stiles is just happy he managed to pass the class--Derek Hale maybe be hot but he was a little boring in the teaching department. Then he laughs to himself at the ridiculousness of this situation. Before he gets a chance to respond, another message pops up.
‘I would also like to ask you on a date if that’s okay with you.’
Now he’s definitely grinning, probably looking stupid and a little bit crazy as he looks at his phone. Good thing he retired to his room before this. One more message comes in.
‘I hope that doesn’t make things more awkward.’
Stiles never thought Hale to be the type to nervously babble (even if in text format) when asking someone out but somehow it just makes him all the more attractive.
So Stiles takes a chance.
‘To be honest, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you since the moment I walked into your classroom.’
After a short pause, Derek messages back.
‘To be honest, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you since then, too.’
Stiles’ smile must look manic by now but he doesn’t really care. He just got a date with his hot professor.
AN: This one is totally on @howlnatural, who posted this and tagged it with Zimbits. Thus my very first venture into the world of Check Please! Adjusted from firemen to the Falconers team, featuring puppies. That is all :)
Zimbits || PG || 918w
Bitty was prepared for several things when Jack signed with the Falconers. There were going to be interviews -- print, online, and video -- and photos in magazines. He knew there would be magazine spreads at some point, of Jack alone and with his father -- the Zimmermann legacy was most definitely a headline grabber. He knew there would be Jack in his hockey gear, Jack in various suits, and -- if George had her way -- Jack in advertisements for whatever.
So when Jack told him that the whole team was doing a photoshoot, Bitty didn’t go into panic mode. It was supposed to feature animals, as Jack explained, but the conversation quickly veered into other topics that night, and neither of them brought it up again. It wasn’t until Ransom and Holster came bursting into the Haus one day rambling on about puppies and calendars that Bitty remembered Jack’s words about the photos. Still, he wasn’t prepared for what Rans pulled up on his laptop screen.
“Oh, we have to text him about this,” Chowder said when he leaned over the back of the couch to stare at the screen.
Bitty, cheeks flushed bright red, slumped onto the couch -- that alone made Rans glance at him with worry -- and his jaw dropped as the photos of the Falconers showed up one by one. He saw Tater, Guy, Snowy, and the others all in their hockey pants but no tops, chests obscured by the puppies each of them was holding. And then, with a “ta-daaa” from Rans, the last photo popped up, and Bitty gasped.
Jack was dressed the way the others were, and despite having seen all of the team in various states of undress -- Bitty had seen more of Shitty than he ever wanted to -- nothing compared to that sight.
“Says here it’s for the children’s hospital down in Providence,” Chowder said, reading the captions on the photos, probably the only one able to focus on more than the pictures.
Ransom and Holster were already furiously typing away on their phones -- in the group chat, if the buzzing of the text alerts in Bitty’s pocket was anything to go by -- and chuckling as they threw more glances at the screen.
Bitty was frozen on the couch though, unable to think, let alone move or speak.
“Bitty, are you okay?” Chowder asked a while later.
“Yeah, I… yeah, I’m fine,” Bitty said, finally managing to look away from the screen. “I’ll just…” he waved a hand, and he stood up, then rushed upstairs, the door slamming behind his back.
When he pulled up the same page -- the address seared into his brain as much as the photos -- up on his own laptop, he gasped when the photo loaded, and he spotted the link to more. There were three in total -- well, more of the rest of the team, but three of Jack -- each of them breathtaking.
There was Jack with his back turned to the camera, but glancing over his shoulder, his chin on top of the head of a fluffy puppy that was snoozing on his bare skin. Then another one, with a puppy rushing away and Jack leaning over it, a bright laugh on his face. And the first one that Bitty saw, with Tater and Guy flanking Jack, puppies in their muscled arms in front of their chests.
When the phone in his pocket buzzed again -- a different rhythm than the group chat that went on since before he came to his room -- Bitty almost jumped out of his chair. It wasn’t a text, he knew, but a phone call from the man he was staring at.
“Hey, honey,” Bitty answered a moment later, almost dropping the phone once he pulled it out of his pants.
“I’m guessing you saw,” Jack said without a greeting, his voice quiet and dripping with anxiety.
“Yeah, I…” Bitty blushed, and he reached out to shut the laptop’s cover. “That was a little unexpected.”
“I told you about the photos,” Jack said. “I just didn’t know when they were… it seems a little more popular than it was meant to be.”
“No wonder, with all that skin on show,” Bitty blurted, and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m a lil’ surprised, is all.”
“Georgia said it’d go to the mental health program for teens,” Jack said quietly, and Bitty couldn’t help the smile on his lips turning fond.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s amazing,” Bitty told him. “It’s a good thing that it’s gone all over then, more money for a good cause.”
“I guess,” Jack grumbled. “There’s gonna be a ton of chirping, though.”
“Worth it, won’t it?” Bitty asked.
When Jack didn’t reply with anything but a heavy sigh, Bitty figured it was time to lighten the mood.
“Now, Mr. Zimmermann, I’ll be expecting pristine copies of those photos in the mail, ya hear me? I’d rather like to … appreciate those by myself, without the whole Haus looking over my shoulder.”
They’d been dating for a while now, but even so, Bitty was blushing at his own words, surprised that he managed to be as bold and not stumble over them. It paid off, though, since his boldness was rewarded with a chuckle from the other end of the line, and then Jack’s voice went deeper as he replied.
“Now, just how would you be appreciating them, Eric?”
Safe to say, they didn’t talk about puppies in their usual nightly Skype call later.
because @howlnatural posted this about this firefighters posing with puppies calendar and i couldn’t resist
“I’m not a firefighter,” Derek snaps, for the hundredth time. The poor PA squeaks and runs off, burying her nose in her clipboard, and Derek rubs his temples in frustration.
The photoshoot is loud and chaotic and his poor puppies’ training is going right out the window because people keep disregarding his clear guidelines about what and what not to do. And Derek’s had to correct holding positions more than once and it’s a good thing this is for charity because if one more person asks him to take his shirt off he’s going to--
Laura punches him playfully in the shoulder, chuckling. “Dude, lighten up on the staff here. It’s not their fault they think you’re one of the dudes going in the calendar.”
Derek doesn’t respond, just rolls his eyes at his sister. Hale’s Home For Four Legged Friends is a no-kill shelter that takes in and fosters stray dogs and cats. They’re usually low on funds and the volunteers work way too hard, so when the local firefighter’s station called and wanted to set up this charity event, Laura had signed them up immediately. It was just going to be some pictures with a few of their most charismatic puppies, but they’ve been here for hours.
Derek keeps having to stop men from feeding treats to Risky, who’s on a special diet, and of course Burrton keeps trying to chew on the the crew’s wires and lightstands, and what some of the puppies need is some peace and quiet right now after so many hours of play but there’s just too much stimulation.
Laura had made a few jokes about hot shirtless firefighters but Derek’s honestly been too distracted to notice. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the view, but he just wants to do his job. It’s not like there’s anyone here that’s particularly tempting, Derek’s seen all the typical beefcake and abs combo already--
“Ah, please come back little dude, just-- one minute and-- AHHH!”
Derek turns around just in time to see a man trip over the light stand next to him; he reaches out and catches him, bracing most of his fall, and helps him to stand again, and then blinks.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just that this guy won’t keep still and Lydia keeps yelling about lighting us up perfectly and then the shot gets messed up and I--” the man takes a deep breath, looking up at Derek through long eyelashes, and Derek is a bit stunned by the warm amber color of his eyes.
The man pushes up the fringe of hair dangling in his face where it joins the rest of his styled hair. Derek likes the messy look. A lot.
He takes a deep breath, trying to focus. The firefighter had been chasing one of their puppies-- he looks around, and sees a familiar gray tail wiggling from behind a stack of clothes. “Oh, it’s Pierce,” he says, walking toward the clothes rack. “C’mon, boy.”
Pierce waddles out and licks at Derek’s hand, and lets Derek pick him up, snuggling immediately into his chest.
“That’s not fair,” the firefighter says. “Everyone is getting along with their model-- or models,” he says darkly, glancing over at one of the current sets. December, it looks like, and the model, a cheerful guy with an uneven jaw, is currently laughing and posing with five exuberant puppies. “Scott got like all of them to love him, not that it’s not hard, but like, I want to be buried in puppies and the one they gave me doesn’t even like me.”
“Pierce is slow to warm to people,” Derek says, stroking the pug’s soft fur. “The chasing him probably isn’t helping. Here, just--” he holds out Pierce, and the man opens up his arms, gently taking the puppy. “Calmly.” Derek keeps his hands on Pierce, stroking his ears and keeping the familiar touch up.
“Awww, hey,” the man says, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m Stiles, by the way. Thanks so much.”
Stiles holds Pierce to his chest, and now starts crooning softly to the pug, and Pierce, to his credit now that no one is chasing him, is starting to relax, little tail wagging.
It’s kind of a bit much-- the man’s creamy pale skin, dotted with freckles, the suspenders over bare chest, the firefighter’s trousers. He’s lithe and wired with muscle, with a sharp crook to his smile that promises mischief.
“Derek,” he manages to answer. “I uh, Pierce is probably just looking for her friend Whiskers. She’s a tabby cat, they’ve bonded at the shelter. I brought her along but she’s sleeping right now.”
“Dude! We can’t just separate animal best friends,” Stiles says. “C’mon, let’s go get your kitty.”
The director had been very clear about no cats in the photos, so Derek wasn’t supposed to bring any of them, but he couldn’t help bringing Whiskers, because Pierce wouldn’t get in his carrier until he saw her in the car. Derek leads Stiles (still cradling Pierce) outside the main room and into the hallway, where it’s a bit quieter. Tucked away in a corner is Whiskers’ cat carrier, covered in a blanket.
Derek lifts up the blanket and Pierce whines noisily. Whiskers is asleep but blinks at them when he opens the door.
Pierce jumps out of Stiles’ arms and wobbles towards the cat, rubbing right along her orange fur. Whiskers curls around him, nosing at his ears before settling back down on the soft little blanket in the carrier. Pierce makes a huffing noise of contentment before closing his eyes and then… falls asleep.
“Aww, that’s precious,” Stiles says. “Guess that means I won’t be in the photoshoot after all. It’s just as well, I was an alternate and the photographer didn’t like my look anyway.”
“I like your look,” Derek blurts out before he can stop himself.
Stiles raises his eyebrow at him, and fuck-- Derek is so fucked because that’s a smirk and if there’s one weakness Derek has it’s smirking, attractive men, especially men like this who-- Stiles drags one finger underneath one of his suspenders and snaps it a little, grinning.
Derek notices for the first time that the trousers are hanging precariously low on Stiles’ hips, and they’re unzipped too, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of red cotton underwear.
Stiles’ cheeks are turning a bright, flushed pink. “I-- yeah, that’s-- I like-- you-- fuck, you’re ruining my plans!”
“What?”
“I was totally going to ask you out after the photoshoot. And see if I could adopt like, a bunch of these puppies. But now you’re making bedroom eyes at me and I just want to drag you into the storage closet and make out with you for forever,” Stiles says, eyes alight with excitement.
“There’s no reason why we can’t do both,” Derek says with a smile.
