The Steter Network
A collection for Steter fanworks.
(Open, Unmoderated)
Random works
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Summary
Peter knew that the seasonal festivities had arrived the morning that he came downstairs to make himself a quick cup of coffee before heading in to the office for the day and came across Stiles standing in front of the living room’s windows, steaming cup clutched in his hands, and staring across the street with narrowed eyes. His express was set, lines firm and harsh and assessing, and he looked so much like a General surveying the battlefield before sending in the troops.
“Gladys finally brought out the Christmas decorations, didn’t she?” the ‘wolf asked, resigned and already knowing the answer as Stiles’ gaze narrowed even further until it became a squinty-eyed glare that promised utter eradication of all who stood in his way.
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Summary
Everyone's dead. Everyone except Peter and Stiles.
It starts in Beacon Hills, which Stiles isn't surprised about at all. As far as he and Deaton can piece together before everything really goes to shit, a baby necromancer had tried some shit way outside of his pay grade. Within a few hours of the footage airing of bodies crawling from their graves, reports flood in from all over the west coast of cemeteries emptying. Then come reports from the midwest, the east coast, all the way up into Canada and down to Mexico. But they seem to have realized it all started in a northern California town with an unnaturally high murder rate called Beacon Hills.
Or
Another zombie apocalypse AU.
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Summary
“You might be too young to remember this. Maybe you’ll even think this is a dream, but my name is Peter Hale. We're twin-souls, you and I. We share a destiny, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
Series
- Part 3 of Tumblr fics
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Summary
“Dude,” Stiles hisses, kicking Scott in the shin, as if they both aren’t watching the scene unfold in front of them. “That’s Peter Hale!”
“Peter?” Scott asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Peter,” Stiles hisses. “The one who killed those people like six years ago! God, he’s hot.” Stiles cranes his neck to get a better view of Peter’s face. Peter glances over their way with a smirk, winking at Stiles, before turning back to Derek.
“He’s a serial killer!” Scott hisses.
“...Think he takes requests?”
“Stiles!”
OR
Derek's shady uncle gets out of prison.
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Summary
Stiles had stepped in Peter's bar because her best friend had more fur than sense. Still having bumped into the owner - New Orleans was looking up. Has she found someone who might beat her defences?
Random bookmarks
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- Words:
- 147,730
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 303
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Summary
After the sacrifice and committing to becoming Scott's Emissary, Stiles begins to suffer the effects of the Nemeton to the point that it becomes so dangerous he needs a physical and emotional anchor or he might just destroy the world. It has to be a werewolf, more importantly one with the age and experience to help him control his wild emotions and bring him back into balance. There's really only one choice.
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Summary
This is the last time the Hale Pack will ever entrust Stiles to Scott fucking McCall's care. The absolute last time. He couldn't keep his dick inside his pants for a single night, and now Stiles is a Were-creature, Bitten against his will and drugged and abandoned by the friend that should have been there to protect him. But now Peter is an Alpha again, and all the better for it. Peter will be sure to keep his favorite Beta safe where Scott wouldn't.
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Summary
I've seen stories where Peter falls for Stiles and courts him with expensive gifts since the Hale's are rich but sometimes people like being woo-ed, so here's Stiles turning the tables and woo-ing the fuck out of Peter.
The Hale's had been buying all things fashion from the mysterious 'Mischief' for years, the rings (with a onetime use 'mountain ash breaker') they'd ordered one time as a precaution had even saved their lives when the Argent's had tried to burn them alive. They were loyal customers at this point and the one thing that everyone on the site had noted was that Mischief NEVER gave anything away for free.
There was no 'add ons'. You got exactly what you ordered. It didn't happen so Peter feels justified in his utter confusion when he looks at the softest sweater he's ever seen sitting at the bottom of their pack order under a letter with his name on it. He hadn't ordered this, no one had ordered this. Talia is the one who picks up the note, the one who opens it and reads it. Everyone holds their breath then she snorts so hard she falls over. He snatches the letter and reads it himself.
'You're cute.'
... what?