Work Header

Long Overdue

Work Text:

“Your daddy’s a liar.” Stiles says to the protruding roundness that passes for his belly these days.

He’s watching daytime t.v. (it’s absolute crap) but it’s too much of an effort to get up and get his iPad even though it’s only five feet away on the couch. Stiles is lying on the most comfortable armchair in the living room that just happens to be Derek’s (sue him, there has to be some benefits to being mated to an alpha) with his legs stretched out in front of him on the footrest, one hand resting lightly on his belly. He’s emotionally and physically exhausted; he’s been up since four a.m. because no matter what position he was in, the pups were always lying on his bladder.

“I want you to remember that,” Stiles continues talking to his belly, “Remember that your daddy is a big, fat liar.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he gets a particularly vicious kick from one of the pups inside him as if they’re arguing against him, saying, No, daddy’s not a liar. Daddy’s the Alpha. We love daddy.

Stiles groans because seriously, these kids are getting stronger by the day, and it’s also typical that the pups would side with Derek over him, despite Stiles giving up over half a year of his life for the pups growing inside of him.

“Hey, don’t go arguing with me,” Stiles says with a grin. “I’m the one carrying you. It’s daddy you should be mad at. Daddy’s the growly, angry, scowly one. I’m papa. Papa’s the nice one. And I’m right: daddy’s a liar because he lied to papa. Papa doesn’t like lies. Lies are bad. Don’t ever lie to papa because I’ll know. You just remember that.”

The pup kicks again, causing Stiles to grimace. Yeah, they’re definitely Derek’s kids, Stiles thinks, they’re all grouchy and moody.

Again, the pup kicks. “Ow!” Stiles cries out, “Sonofabitch!”. He runs his hand over the bump trying to settle the pup. Thinking on what he’s just said, he adds, “Wait, if there’s a boy in there, I take that back. I’m nobody’s bitch.”

Seconds later, Isaac rushes into the room in a blur, looking panicked. “Stiles! Are you okay? I heard you crying out.”

Stiles gives him a blank look. “Am I okay?” He asks slightly hysterically. “Did you just ask me if I’m okay?! I’m seven and a half months pregnant, Isaac. Seven and a half. Derek swore to me that werewolf pregnancies last no more than seven months. I’m two weeks overdue. Two weeks. I’m fat. I’m uncomfortable. I’m hormonal. I feel like I could burst out crying at anytime. I look like a beached whale. I feel like I’m ready to drop at any second, but oh no, because the pups don’t want to come out, as they’re too busy assaulting me.” Stiles is breathing hard now, trying to get his breath back because even ranting causes him exhaustion these days. He continues, “And furthermore, the pups - that I am carrying - are arguing against me and siding with Derek! So, Isaac, do you think I’m okay?”

Isaac stutters after Stiles’ tirade. “I’m guessing ‘no’?” He eventually says.

Stiles blinks at him. “And you’d be right.”

Isaac smiles toothily at getting the answer right, but as Stiles narrows his eyes at him, the smile quickly vanishes to be replaced by a frown as if he’s trying to figure out what he did or said wrong.

“I’ll get you some tea.” Isaac says. Noting the iPad on the couch, Isaac picks it up and hands it to Stiles saying only, “Daytime t.v. sucks.”

“Thank you.” Stiles says quietly as he accepts the iPad from Isaac and feels instantly guilty.

Out of all the wolves in the pack, it was Isaac who was looking forward to the pups’ arrival the most (apart from Stiles and Derek), and the one who was doing the most to make sure their arrival went as smoothly as possible, picking up the chores that Stiles used to do and is now no longer able to. Whenever Derek had to leave the den, Isaac had always ensured that he remained behind to monitor Stiles. And, like now, Isaac had taken it upon himself to make sure that Stiles was always comfortable. Well, as comfortable as was possible.

Isaac nods his head and goes towards the kitchen.

“Isaac,” Stiles says. As Isaac turns around, Stiles says, “I’m sorry. It’s just the pregnancy; my hormones are all over the place. I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s okay,” Isaac says with a small smile, “I understand.”

Stiles still feels like shit, though, even if he can blame his hormones for his short temperament.

He rests the iPad on the edge of his very large bump. Alright, he concedes there are some advantages to being this pregnant after all.

“Now, don’t go kicking papa’s iPad,” Stiles says to the bump, because if they do, they’ll probably end up breaking it, such is the force of their kicks. “It was expensive and papa needs it for research.”

Connecting to the internet, Stiles continues his search for ways of inducing labour. Because, seriously, whilst he’s loved being pregnant for the past seven months, this can’t go on any longer. His nipples are continuously sore and they chafe against any material he’s got on, and even sometimes when he’s not wearing a t-shirt, even the slightest breeze or the ghost of Derek’s breath against them pains him (before he’d gotten all self-conscious and stopping being naked around Derek).

He’s even begun to leak in front of the pack, and that had been more than embarrassing. Fortunately, the others had turned their heads and ignored it, whilst Stiles had waddled out of the room, ashamed. Even when Derek followed him, holding him close, telling him that it was alright and that the pack understood, Stiles still felt like crying. He figures it won’t be so bad when he’s got the pups attached to him, but right now it’s something he can live without. Yeah, he’s definitely had more than enough of being pregnant.

He’s scoured the internet looking at message boards and how pregnancies have been induced by various means. He’d taken notes and made Derek buy him what he needed. He’s tried eating dates, eating curries and other spicy foods, drinking Raspberry Leaf tea, and had even made an appointment for acupuncture therapy, even though Derek had growled at him when he’d suggested it, fearing that it would hurt the pups. Stiles had won that argument simply by saying, “I’m carrying them, it’s happening.”, and Derek had reluctantly backed down - that’s actually something that Stiles is going to miss, Derek not being as growly with him because he knew how the pups were causing him so much discomfort. As it had turned out, though, Stiles had squeaked when he saw the pins and promptly wanted to go home, Derek smirking silently at him as they left.

He had also read briefly about other ways on inducing labour which had required Derek’s involvement. He had placed them on the back-burner until he had exhausted all other avenues. And right now, at two weeks overdue, he considers all other avenues well and truly exhausted, thank you very much.

He’d read that nipple stimulation could help induce labour, although the idea of massaging his already sore nipples hadn’t been the most pleasant one. He’d read on, finding that one of the most popular suggestions was sex. Stiles had rolled his eyes at that because sex was what had gotten him in the uncomfortable position he’s in now; but he has to admit that the thought of Derek fucking him into labour is pretty hot. Derek, on the other hand, had not.

One thing that cannot be said about Stiles Stilinski is that he’s not a planner. He had thought meticulously about how to ask Derek to help him, had run through the various answers that Derek would have and had come up with counter arguments for all of them. When he had eventually broached both options to Derek, the alpha had remained skeptical and refused to do either. Whilst Stiles couldn’t get him to agree (despite all his planning), he had eventually worn him down enough for Derek to admit that he was afraid that sex could hurt the pups, despite Stiles assuring him that it wouldn’t. Derek had simply scowled at him. And seriously, how do you argue against a scowl?

Now, though, Stiles is at the absolute end of his tether. As soon as Derek comes home, he’s going to clear the den of all the wolves for an afternoon and he and Derek are going to fuck until they induce labour, even if it kills them. Which, hopefully it won’t.

Isaac returns and bends down to place a cup of Raspberry Leaf Tea on the table beside Stiles.

“Thanks pup,” Stiles says, ruffling Isaac’s hair, causing the young wolf to preen. Before, Stiles had never been a very hands-on member of the pack, but ever since his pregnancy, he’s been feeling a bit more maternal.

Stiles takes a drink of the tea and grimaces. It’s disgusting and absolutely no substitute for coffee, which he’s been off for way too long.

Isaac sits on the couch, but is immediately concerned when he sees Stiles’ face. “Is there something wrong with it? I can make you another cup if you want?”

Stiles smiles at him, “You’ve made it perfectly, pup, it’s just... not a very pleasant drink, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Isaac says, more at ease now and he relaxes back into the seat.

Stiles’ phone chimes beside him on the armrest and picking it up, he reads the text from Derek saying that he’s on the way home and should be no more than ten minutes. Stiles immediately begins plotting how to get plan ‘Get Derek In Me and Get Puppies Out’ into motion.

Isaac looks at Stiles’ belly and tilts his head slightly. Seeing the movement, Stiles frowns and says, “What?”

Isaac blushes and says, “I can hear their movements. They’re kicking against you because there’s not as much room as there used to be and they’re getting restless.” Seeing Stiles’ panicked face, Isaac rushes, “But they’re fine. They’re happy. That’s probably why they aren’t ready to be born, they’re happy inside you.”

Stiles holds back from crying, because seriously: hormones. It has nothing to do with what Isaac just said. Nothing. Nope. Absolutely not.

“One of them’s moving about and is going to -”

“Ow!” Stiles cries out.

“- kick you,” Isaac finishes lamely.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, pup,” Stiles says. And then to his belly says, “Seriously: stop kicking papa. Please?” Then Stiles says, “But don’t fight each other either. You’ve got to be nice to one another. Why can’t we all just get along, huh?

Isaac makes an aborted move on the couch, which Stiles sees out of the corner of his eyes.

“You want to feel?” Stiles asks him, gesturing to his belly.

“Can I?” Isaac asks and Stiles nods.

Isaac’s face lights up and stands up, walks over to the armchair and kneels down, with a look of wonderment on his face.

He puts a hand on Stiles’ belly and typically of his children, they stop kicking him before Isaac can feel them.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Stiles says softly, “That’s Uncle Isaac. We love Uncle Isaac. He can’t wait to meet you. C’mon, say hello.”

A few seconds after, one of the pups kicks against Stiles, softer this time, and Isaac lets out a gasp at feeling the pup against his hand.

“That’s amazing,” Isaac says in awe.

“Yeah, not if you’re the one feeling the full force of mini-Dereks against you,” Stiles says dryly, as Isaac laughs, eyes still focused on the area where the outline of the pup’s foot had appeared.

The front door then slams closed and right on cue, there’s Derek’s muttered curse from where he’s tripped over Stiles’ hospital bag for the umpteenth time. Seconds later, Derek walks into the living room, looking frozen from the cold outside. If werewolves could feel cold.

Derek raises an eyebrow, looking entirely unimpressed at seeing Isaac kneeling on the floor beside Stiles. Sensing the alpha’s presence, Isaac looks up and quickly jumps to his feet, looking guilty, as if he’d just been caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar.

“Slow down, pup,” Stiles says, “You’re not doing anything wrong. Right, Der?”

Derek just grunts.

Derek,” Stiles says pointedly, because seriously, they’ve had this conversation already: Derek has to stop grunting and start using his words. He also has to stop terrifying the other pack members, which, granted, he’s gotten better at, but Isaac had always been jumpy around him.

“It’s okay,” Derek says finally to Isaac, “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” says Isaac, but instead of resuming his position on the ground, he says, “I’ll er... I’ll give you two some time together.”

“Okay. Thanks, pup,” Stiles says with a smile and seriously, that kid is the most astute person Stiles has ever known.

The front door slams shut again as Isaac leaves the den, meaning that Stiles and Derek are alone for the first time in... well, forever, it feels like.

“Hi,” Stiles says coyly.

Derek’s eyes are focused on Stiles’ belly (Derek’s obvious pregnancy kink is one of the hottest things about him, Stiles thinks), but Derek’s gaze snaps up to his eyes when Stiles speaks.

“Hi,” Derek says with a grin, “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Stiles says honestly, “Your pups are treating me like their own personal football.” Then with a grin, he adds, “It’s not on, Derek, you’ll have to talk to them.”

Derek smirks and kneels in the place that Isaac had moments before and places a hand on Stiles’ belly. “Hey, puppies,” he says in a voice so gentle that Stiles could cry (it’s the hormones, obviously). “Papa says you’ve been kicking him. You have to go easy on him, he’s very tired and sensitive. You have to treat him with respect. He’s been keeping you safe in there, hasn’t he?”

Almost on cue, one of the pups kicks against Derek’s hand. “Although, I have to admit,” Derek says to Stiles’ belly, “I’m gonna miss you doing that, when you’re born.”

Stiles clears his throat. “Derek, I’ve been reading -”

“No,” Derek says firmly.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Stiles says.

“You’re going to say that you’ve read online that sex can induce labour and that you want me to fuck you in the hope that it will.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a second. “Okay, so you do know what I was going to say.”

“It’s not going to happen, Stiles. I’m sorry that you’re in discomfort, really I am. But I’m not going to risk hurting the pups, or you, just because you’ve read something on the internet.”

“Derek -” Stiles whines. Yeah, whines, because seriously, he needs this.

“I said ‘no’, Stiles,” Derek says, although his eyes are back focused on the bump.

And then it suddenly hits Stiles, he knows exactly how to get Derek to fuck him: it’s so obvious now that he thinks about it. It’s a little sneaky, but he figures the ends justify the means.

For the past six weeks or so, Stiles hadn’t taken his shirt off in front of Derek, ashamed of his ever protruding belly. Derek hadn’t said anything, he hadn’t protested, but it’s so obvious to Stiles now, he’d been denying Derek this closeness, the chance to bond with his pups. And if Stiles can encourage that kink in Derek to come out, he may just be able to get some sexytimes out of it.

“Okay,” Stiles says.

Derek looks at him as if he can’t believe that Stiles is actually going to let this drop.

“It’s fine,” Stiles insists.

“Good,” Derek says, although he’s still slightly suspicious.

Stiles pushes the footrest back into the seat and is pushed up into a sitting position. Holding out a hand for Derek to help him up, Stiles takes a few seconds to get out of the chair. Once he’s done so, he takes his t-shirt off. Normally he would make a show of it, teasing Derek, but these days it’s an effort just to get it off.

“What’re you doing?” Derek asks.

“The shirt’s rubbing against my nipples,” Stiles says.


“It’s chafing me,” Stiles adds needlessly.

Finally, after weeks, Derek is able to look upon Stiles’ belly and his developing tits full of milk ready to nurse their pups, without having to snatch glimpses here and there when Stiles is changing his top. “Uh-huh.”

Stiles throws his t-shirt on the floor and smirks when he sees Derek’s eyes trained on his belly.

Stiles,” Derek whines. (Yeah, Derek whining, actually whining). His eyes are lust-blown and Stiles can see his resolve crumbling away.

“What, Der? What do you want?” He asks his alpha.

“I... I can’t,” Derek says almost pained at denying himself.

“You can, Der,” Stiles insists, “You can. You won’t hurt us, I promise. I trust you.”

Derek growls then. He stalks forward to Stiles and places a possessive hand on Stiles’ belly. At the same time, he tilts Stiles’ face upwards with his other hand so that he only has to dip his own head slightly to kiss Stiles deeply. “Mine,” he growls.

“Yours,” Stiles responds.

Derek pulls away from Stiles, causing the younger man to whine at the loss, and Derek to smirk. Bastard.

Derek leads Stiles by the hand into the study across the hall that had since been turned into a spare bedroom for the two of them, for when Stiles had felt the need to rest during the day or even when the thought of waddling up the stairs had been too daunting to contemplate.

“You want this, baby?” Derek asks, “You want me to fuck you so hard that you go into labour? You want that, Stiles?”

“Yeah, Der. Please. Need you.”

Derek helps Stiles to sit on the edge of the bed, where Derek proceeds to kneel in front of Stiles, worshipping him like he’s an offering to the gods. Derek begins to kiss over Stiles’ bump, causing the younger man to groan.

“My good boy. You’ve been so strong,” Derek says to Stiles, “Been so good for me, carrying my pups, keeping them safe, even though they’ve caused you so much pain.”

“Please, Derek,” Stiles says.

Derek shushes him with a deep kiss. “So big for me, baby. Getting so big with my pups. Love you like this, Stiles. Love seeing my pups growing inside you.”

“Der -” Stiles begins, but is cut off when Derek climbs onto the bed and rests against the wall, spreading his legs so that Stiles is sitting in between his legs, bracketed by him. Derek pulls Stiles gently against him, so that Stiles’ naked back is against Derek’s henley.

“Der -” Stiles says again, but fucking jolts when Derek reaches his hand around Stiles and takes his heavy right tit in his strong hand, cupping it and begins massaging it, rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ nipple gently. Stiles moans at the applied pressure.

“I know, baby, I know,” Derek croons, as he takes Stiles’ other tit in his hand and does the same.

The pressure is exactly what Stiles needs right now and he throws his head back against Derek’s shoulder and moans obscenely. He’s now glad that there’s no other wolves present in the den, or there’d be red faces all round.

Before Stiles knows what’s happening, he can feel himself fucking leaking. He jolts again at the relief the sensation brings, and whines when Derek doesn’t let up, still massaging him through it.

“They’re gorgeous like this, Stiles. Your tits so big, ready to nurse our pups,” Derek says. He then begins to nuzzle into the crook of Stiles neck, and whispers, “Fucking gorgeous.”

Stiles whines when he leaks some more against Derek’s thumbs, the feeling so, so good after so long without feeling Derek’s touch.

When Derek finally relents his pressure on Stiles’ tits, his thumbs are wet from where Stiles leaked over them. Derek brings his thumbs to his mouth and sucks the milk off his thumb, one after the other.

“Gross,” Stiles says, “You big weirdo.”

Derek just chuckles against Stiles’ neck. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

“I do!” Stiles says.

“And how does insulting me get you what you want?” Derek questions him.

Stiles only has one answer to that. He whines, “Please, baby. Need your cock.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Derek says with a chuckle, “I won’t keep you waiting since you asked so nicely.”

Derek carefully manoeuvres Stiles so that he’s on his back, trying to make Stiles and their pups are as comfortable as possible. Stiles cants his hips and Derek helps him shimmy out of his pants. Throwing them on the ground, Derek grabs some pillows and places them under Stiles’s hips, so that he has better access to Stiles’ hole.

Normally Derek would spend time pleasuring Stiles, sucking him off and playing with his balls, but right now all Stiles wants is to be fucked and that’s exactly what Derek wants to do to him. He strips himself of his own clothes, grabs some lube from the bedside cabinet drawer and lubes himself up. He also lubes up two of fingers and slowly breaches the tight ring of muscle, causing Stiles to groan. Stretching him, Derek scissors Stiles’ hole, revelling in the tightness of the other man, before eventually adding his third finger.

“Der, please,” Stiles is nearly crying now at the feeling of being stretched and yet denied what he really wants.

“You ready?” Derek asks.

Stiles could actually scream at him. Instead all his manages is, “Yeah.”

Derek withdraws his fingers, Stiles whining at the loss whilst Derek manoeuvres Stiles back into his original position, sitting up on the bed.

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but he frowns and Derek grunts, “Don’t wanna hurt the pups.”

Oh, that makes sense, Stiles supposes.

They’re now back in their original position - Stiles back flush against Derek’s firm chest, when the alpha lifts him up with ease and carefully moves Stiles until he’s able to push himself into him. Stiles moans when he feels the thick, blunt head of Derek’s cock inside him. Fucking finally.

Derek’s so big that sometimes Stiles wonders how he ever takes him inside him, but as Derek presses in inch-by-inch, all of those thoughts evaporate in favour of revelling in being filled by the alpha.

“So fucking tight,” Derek croons. “So good for me, Stiles, so big with my pups.”

Stiles relies on Derek to fuck into him because he doesn’t think he has the strength to lift himself up and down onto Derek. Never has Stiles been more glad of Derek’s super -human strength than right now.

“So good for me, aren’t you Stiles?” Derek asks.

Stiles doesn’t answer, thinks it’s a rhetorical question, just something that Derek says to spur them both on, but evidently he does want the question answered because Derek starts to piston into him, growling “Stiles”.

“Yeah, Der,” Stiles manages to get out, “So good for you.”

“Love seeing you like this, love seeing you all bred up,” Derek says. “Gonna be the perfect mother to my pups.”

Derek slows his movements, and chuckles when Stiles groans in protest. Fuck Derek’s self-control, Stiles thinks.

“Gonna feed ’em with these,” Derek says cupping Stiles’ tits again, “Help ’em grow big and strong.”

“Yeah, Der.” Stiles gasps, losing himself in the pleasure of being completely at Derek’s mercy: being fully impaled on his cock, whilst his aching tits are getting massaged.

Derek continues to massage Stiles’ tits, and Stiles arches against him.

“You like that baby?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods and that’s all the encouragement that Derek needs and he begins to gentle pinch Stiles’ nipples. “Fuck!” Stiles cries out. He can’t move because Derek’s fully inside him. (Not that he’d want to).

Derek stills his hands and Stiles groans at the lack of pressure. “Stiles?” he asks concerned.

“No, don’t stop,” Stiles groans, “Please don’t stop.”

Contented by Stiles’ reassurance, Derek begins to tease the nipples again, daring to pinch even harder to test Stiles’ resolve.

After doing this for some time, Stiles begins to gasp. “Der, I’m gonna -”, Stiles says, but before he can finish the sentence, he starts to leak all over Derek once again, moaning at the sensation.

“Good boy,” Derek encourages, “My good boy.”

“Derek,” he says when he’s stopped leaking, “fuck me, baby, please, make me yours.”

Derek chuckles. “You’re already mine, sweetheart. These are proof of that,” he says of the pups in Stiles’ belly. “But if you need me to prove it to you, I suppose I could.”

“Yeah, Der, prove it to me,” Stiles mewls, “Prove to everyone that I’m yours.”

Derek growls then (his possessive streak winning out) and lifts Stiles off him, turning him around so that they are face-to-face, bump in between them. He moves to the edge of the bed so that he has better access and begins to fuck into him like a man possessed. Or a wolf possessed, Stiles supposes would be more accurate.

Stiles doesn’t know how Derek does it, but he places a strong hand to the small of Stiles’ back, keeping him safe, whilst his other hand grips onto his hip.

Derek lifts Stiles up and off him before helping Stiles to grind back down on to him, causing the younger man to groan. Derek repeats this over and over and Stiles could cry from the pleasure he’s getting.

Derek is giving him exactly what he wants: rough, possessive sex, and yet at the same he’s incredibly gentle with Stiles, being especially careful of the pups between them.

Angling his thrust just so, Derek grunts and Stiles mewls. He arches his back and comes between them, panting heavily. Derek is not far behind him and with another few thrusts, he stills and comes inside him. Stiles rests his forehead against Derek’s shoulder, fucked out and exhausted.

“You okay?” Derek asks when Stiles has stopped panting and his heart rate has returned to normal.

“Ecstatic,” Stiles chuckles against him.

“Good,” Derek grins, reluctant to pull out from Stiles because of the closeness it brings them, but does so because they really need to clean up.

Between them, Derek can feel one of the pups kick against Stiles. “I’m really going to miss that,” Derek muses.

Stiles chuckles between them, and adjusts to the empty feeling when Derek pulls out of him. Derek goes to the bathroom and returns with a washcloth to wipe the two of them clean, returning to find Stiles sitting against the wall. Derek cleans both of them up, because he revels in the bonding and the closeness it brings them. When he’s done, Derek helps Stiles up and into his pants. “You stay here and I’ll make you some lunch,” Derek says.

“Okay,” Stiles says, slightly disappointed that the pups still aren’t ready to be born, but food’s always good.

Derek leaves him sitting on the bed again, whilst he goes into the kitchen.

“We can try that again later if you want,” Derek calls out to him with a smirk as he opens the fridge.

But there’s no response from Stiles.

“Stiles?” He calls out again.

Even though he’s in the kitchen, his wolf can hear his mate’s heartbeat change in distress. “Der -” Stiles mutters, clearly frightened.

Immediately concerned, Derek runs back to the bedroom and says, “Stiles, what is it?”

“My waters have broken,” Stiles says. “Shit, Der! They’re coming.”

Derek’s eyes go wide and panic is evident on his face.

Typical, Stiles thinks, macho, growly Alpha-wolf who never shows his emotions has to lose it at the worst possible time.

“Don’t you dare freak out on me now, Derek,” Stiles grits out, hand protectively resting on his bump. “Call my dad and have him meet us at the hospital and then call Isaac and tell him to tell the rest of the pack. Then grab my bag by the door and drive us to the hospital.”

Derek nods and snaps back to reality and into action.

“Guess my plan worked after all,” Stiles says to his bump, as he winces.


Stiles is discharged from hospital later that same week and the den’s door opens to a smiling Isaac, welcoming them home. Stiles is carrying one of the pups in his arms, because he just wouldn’t settle and prevented the other two from sleeping. Said two pups are now currently fast asleep in the two car seats that Derek is carrying. Stiles thinks he has a pretty good idea which pup was kicking him all that time.

“I’ll get the bags,” Isaac says cheerfully.

“Thanks, pup,” Stiles says wearily, as he walks into the house.

He knows he looks exhausted, but it’s worth it because Derek looks even worse than he does. Stiles knows he shouldn’t find it funny, but he figures that because he’s had to endure so many sleepless nights and had his insides assaulted by kicking pups, he’s given a free pass to enjoy Derek’s own sleep-weary state.


A few days later, Stiles is sitting up in bed. Derek is fast asleep beside him, as are the three pups in their cots. He spots his iPad on the table at the other end of the room, but resists the urge to get it for fear of waking the pups. Then, as if on cue, he hears one of the pups shuffling, and before he can even get off the bed to see to her, she begins to cry. Seconds later, the other two shuffle and begin to cry as well. Derek stirs and goes to their cots, shushing them and telling them to wait their turn, that papa is only able to manage feeding one pup at a time. Stiles takes the first pup to wake and relaxes back onto the bed, and waits until she latches on. She immediately stops fussing and suckles from him. Stiles was right: it’s definitely a lot less weird when there’s a little person attached to him.

During one of the peaceful periods when the den is quiet because all three pups are asleep, and Derek is downstairs making them some dinner, Stiles navigates back to the message boards that he’d been reading and creates an account. He locates the thread entitled ‘Inducing Labour Naturally’, types out his message and posts it: Having tried all the other options, I can definitely confirm that, for us, sex was the most effective way of inducing labour. And we had fun doing it. :).