Sterek_4ever



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    Standing next to not-Derek – whoa, holding not-Derek’s hand? – is someone who looks remarkably like Stiles. Is Stiles, a slightly-altered replica, just like this guy both is and isn't Derek.

    It’s not like looking into a mirror – one, because looking into a mirror actually makes some kind of sense, and two, because not-Stiles looks older too, mid twenties maybe. And the tips of his short, spiky hair are dark purple, and he’s got a lip ring and he’s shirtless and covered in tattoos and what the holy hell?

    “Time travel?" He's sufficiently freaked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears his dad laughing.

    “Not exactly,” not-Derek says, and shit, even his voice sounds exactly the same, disconcertingly gentle. He gestures behind him, and Stiles looks over his shoulder, where behind him, scattered across the porch and in the front yard, are more…Dereks and more Stileses.

    Fourteen total, including the two at the door, he notes distantly, eyes feeling like they’re about to pop out of his head from bulging so hard.

    Seven other Dereks. Seven other Stileses.

    Seven Derek and Stiles pairs.

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    19 Aug 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Love love love this fic

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

    The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

    So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

    Language:
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    27 Jun 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    I love this fanfic so so much

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “We should have him over for dinner,” Lydia says. She’s inspecting a pair of stilettos, weighing them carefully in one hand. They would look lovely on her and the price tag is nowhere near enough to dissuade her. Beside her, Stiles snorts, shuffling sideways so that a mother and her squalling child can pass by. “That would be sending entirely the wrong message, Lyds.”

    She rolls her eyes and passes him the shoe box. “Nonsense. It’s what you do when you wish to court someone.”

    “Pretty sure all the rules are different when he knows what we are and may think we’re planning on having him for dinner.”

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    4 May 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    This is so hot and I have such a neck kink Jesus Christ

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    “How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

    The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

    Derek despised him.

    Language:
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    18 Apr 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Apparently I've read this before but I have shit memory and forgot but I loved it when I read it again so I'm saving it so I don't forget about it again

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.)

    Language:
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    10 Mar 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    I love this fic so much