2017 Steter Fic Recs
Kinktober 2017 things!
It starts with Gerard. After the clusterfuck of Stiles crashing into the kanima with his jeep, Jackson’s ‘death’ and werewolf resurrection, Lydia and Jackson go off together, Scott goes after Allison, and Derek, broken and hurt from yet another betrayal and use of his body against his will, takes Isaac and leaves, unable to look at any of them. That leaves Stiles standing next to his battered jeep, arms wrapped around his aching ribs. No one so much as looks his way. Except for Peter.
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.
Another zombie apocalypse AU.
Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don’t utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.
Peter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.
“Save me,” Stiles hisses under his breath desperately.
Stiles doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it isn’t for hot stranger to chuckle. He leans forward, lips brushing Stiles’ ear as he says, “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”
Save me from this awful dude hitting on me at the bar.
Chris knows Stiles will tire of him eventually, and why shouldn’t she? He doesn’t know why she’s bothering with him in the first place when she can have someone her own age, someone less damaged, with a long life before them. When he asks her this, she laughs a bit hollowly and says, “I’m just as damaged as you are. What would I do with a bright and shiny boy my own age?” Well, he hadn’t had an answer for that. Until she decides she’s through with him, he’ll give her everything.
Stargent porn that got plotty and sad.
I tried to resist, but Kinktober caught me. I’m working off this prompt list here.
This is nothing but self-indulgent kinky shit. Mostly Steter, but some other pairings thrown in because why not?
Peter kisses him just below the navel though, distracting him, then drags his bottom teeth up. Stiles can picture the thin red lines left behind as Peter’s fangs skate from pelvis to sternum.
It might have been years ago, but Peter remembered the stress that University could bring. So when Stiles called, stress evident in his shaky voice, Peter was all too happy to drop everything and visit his love.
Stiles had very little impulse control when it came to buying gifts for those he was crushing on but he’d put a stopper in that issue years ago. At least, he thought he had.
In the dream, Stiles is running.
When Peter is kidnapped, Stiles is left to come to the rescue.
Peter ends up hard.
Stiles is bit by one of the Alpha pack and is turned into an Alpha Were Fox. This is the following story.
Stiles lead the Alpha on a merry old chase.
In which Peter drives celebrities around, and up-and-coming actor Stiles Stilinski is his new client.
Peter pushes the textbook away from him, rubbing his eyes. Sixteenth century grammar is starting to grate on him, after the eleventh sonnet he’s beginning to loathe the form and everything it stands for. It would be masochism to continue reading.
Peter stands up, reaching up high to stretch his back. He winces when he hears his shoulders pop. He’s been in the same position for too long, he needs to do some exercise, get out of his room. It’s only mid afternoon, he doubts they’ll be any objection from his parents if he goes for a short run, especially if he promises to stay human the entire time.
Connected drabbles revolving around Dragon!Stiles and his werewolf Mate, Peter.
Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.
queensolaire asked: I especially love your BAMF!stiles against fae. Can we have another drabble like that? Maybe this time with some interaction Steter? Or anything with BAMF!Stiles in general xD Thank you and have a nice day! :)
Fae!Stiles saving Peter from Pack’s stupidity and washing his hands of them. Please?
platypusesrneat asked: how about Stiles, pissed about Peter damaging his Jeep because it was sentimental, and Peter, genuinely sorry and simultaneously trying to woo Stiles? (and maybe accidentally making a huge fool out of himself?) thanks once again!
Soulmate words were treasured. People spent their whole lives waiting for their treasured phrase, that magic moment.
Stiles had spent his whole life plagued by his words. He wondered just what he could do, to disappoint his soulmate so completely in their first meeting. He had approximately ninety nine self-confidence issues and they were all because of those damned words, printed in elegant script across his heart.
‘Words cannot describe how pathetic you look.’
Tumblr Prompt: You start working with your spouse and everyone thinks you’re cheating because they don’t know that’s your spouse.
anonymous asked: Stiles leaves the pack and gets his own life under controll. Has only contact with his dad anymore. He is happy. One day he meets Peter Hale, he knew Derek back than, but doesn’t connect the dots.
Stiles is the piano player.
Peter can think of other things he’d like to see those hands do.
Shame the guy’s straight.
Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers cool scales: leather pebbly beneath his curious, exploring touch. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the touch of an unfettered breeze against his cheeks, the chilled bite of air far too thin for most to breath easily. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the strong beat of wings beneath his legs, remembers the way his stomach jumped to his throat at a sudden, sharply steep dive: remembers, too, the happy whoop of air leaving his lungs in a breathless cry of absolutely joy as he plummeted back down to earth. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers the heat of a forge, the heart—molten at its core—hidden deep beneath this world’s crust, reassuring in its fire—steady beat of a giant heart—against his baby cheek. Once upon a time ago, Stiles remembers that he dreamt of dragons.
Chris is a hunter who dies under mysterious circumstances. Peter’s the necromancer who saves him. Stiles is the grim reaper who doesn’t mind.
“Is there a problem, sir?” the boy asked him, with a note in his voice that said ‘there better not be.’ Oh. Interesting.
Peter bit back the instinctive ‘Are you sure you’re in the right place?’ on his tongue…
Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be that cliche, thank you very much… he prefered to leave dynamism to the plebs.
“Sti… how do you pronounce that?” he asked finally, making the kid’s eyes go round with surprise. He went red as every single person turned to look at him, and Peter tried to act like he didn’t find it charming.
“Um. It’s Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.”
Peter nodded and made the checkmark.
This would be an interesting year.
A look into the life of FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski and his househusband Peter Hale. A respectable couple living in the suburbs, who may or may not kill those who manage to evade capture by the FBI.
Peter and Stiles haven’t seen each other in months when the alphas ask them to meet up to look over an abandoned house. Now, they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for quite a while to come.
Stiles drags his best friend, Scott to a haunted house.