drabble junk

Stiles listens to his dad ask him the same question that comes up way too often, and gets lost counting the dark flecks that scatter across the white expanse of the all-too-familiar hospital ceiling. Here again, and ‘He’ll be fine,’ the doctor says.

His dad wants to hear it from Stiles’ lips, though. Is he okay?

Is he really okay?

His answer doesn’t come as easily as it used to, no quip or snap back like it’s easy come easy go. The feckless lie sticks in the back of his throat, burning away like a hot coal choking the life out of him.

I’m fine.

He’s said it more than a million times, and no super-hearing anybody has heard his heart skip a single beat. Or maybe they did, but that thought doesn’t make it any easier, because that means they’ve ignored it a million times, too. And it should be easy, he’s brilliant at lying straight to his father’s face these days. Stiles knows how to twist a definition to make it true, how to believe in nothing and make it something.

He’s fine.

Molehills out of mountains.
Tip of the iceberg.

Shrink it down until it’s just an ember, a single flicker of pain low in his chest. It burns enough to remind him that it’s there, but cool enough for him to force the words out.

He stops counting the tiny holes in the ceiling, and plasters a bright, brilliant lie across his face.


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2 minute Mpreg fic

(Written for my dearest @apocatits in a chat somewhere because she’s read all the sterek Mpreg fics already.)


Stiles gets knocked up.

He doesn’t realize it at first, so the baby starts developing, and he gets pretty sick, and all this is happening while Derek is pulling away from him. One wild night does not a relationship make, and Derek fucking Hale thinks he’s too damaged for Stiles. He doesn’t want to be a burden. He doesn’t want that wild night to mean anything, even though it did.

To Stiles.

Also the whole knocked up thing.


Stiles, he’s just a mess, right?
Because he’s barfing and tired all the time, and the guy he thought finally responded to his subtle advances is brushing him off. Like hardcore cold shoulder.

Stiles remembers saying the ‘L’ word that night, amongst some other sappy things you’re probably not supposed to say on your 'first night’ together. But, man, Stiles has been waiting YEARS and Derek fucking Hale finally—he finally… He was saying shit too, you know?

So Stiles doesn’t know what’s going on. He knows he feels like shit, and the guy’s he’s in love with fucked him and abandoned him.

Now, Scott’s dumb as a fucking post. (With love) But even he knows something’s up. Stiles is late to school almost every day (in their senior year, too, which he shouldn’t be because holy shit you’re graduating soon). He’s noticed how pale Stiles has been, the dark circles, the never-ending stench of misery rolling off his friend.

So, he tries to talk to him, but Stiles just laughs it off, shrugs, it’s nothing, Scotty, stop worrying. Everything’s fine.

And he keeps saying that right up until the day he collapses in the driveway of his house. His dad finds him /three hours/ later, when he gets home from work. By then, Stiles is cold, and been unconscious for way too long.

And then it’s all rushing to the hospital, monitors for this and that and what’s wrong with his stomach? What’s that extra heartbeat?

Wtf. Wtf. Wtf.

And his dad is like: Holy shit my son’s been knocked up by an alien because that’s literally the only way I can imagine this happening. That, or there’s a wolf out there with a wolvesbane bullet ready for him.

Which is when Scott calls Derek. Because the dude’s been way too bitchy towards Stiles the last few pack meetings for him not to be involved in this.

So he calls. He screams. He ALPHA screams.

And Derek high-tails his little wolfy ass to the hospital.

Awooo, stupid fucking daddy wolf has arrived.

Meanwhile, Stiles has woken up and feels—surprise!—like shit. Warmed up shit. He’s anemic, and the lack of sleep hasn’t been good for him.

Or the baby.

He’s still slowly processing that little tid-bit of info there. He’ll get to it once he’s done telling Derek fucking Hale to gtfo of his room or so help me, I’ll shove this entire bedpan up your ass and you know it’ll fit BECAUSE YOU ARE A GAPING ASSHOLE.

So Derek kind of scuttles for the waiting room while Stiles is calmed down by a nurse. With drugs.

But the waiting room isn’t exactly safer, because daddy sheriff with a gun and alpha wolf with claws are in there.

And they have questions.
And Derek maybe pees himself a little bit.

But they figure it out. Derek obviously didn’t know, and Sheriff has seen this kid after the fire—he knows how he gets. He’s watched this idiot pull away from people since he was 16, so he knows the signs.

It takes a good talking to, and a little sniffle here or there for them to get it sorted out. Now, all Derek has to do is sort it out with Stiles.

Who eyes the bedpan the moment Derek walks back into his room that night. But, for once in his stupid, skinny life, Stiles listens. Probably because Derek looks wrecked, and happy, and exhausted, and in love all at once.

Also probably because he confirms that last part with words. A few times. Like, a lot. It’s really sappy, and stiles loves it.

Fucking hormones.

In the end, the doctors don’t send him to Area 51 to be cut up by scientists for science, and he’s able to go home.

Home is kind of… A weirdly comfortable mess now, though. Derek’s there, like, living there. He’s doing something secret with his dad to the guest room.

Stiles isn’t a fucking idiot, he knows they’re making it into a baby room. He also knows that Derek is doing the same thing to the second room in his apartment. He’s not an idiot, but he lets them smirk and work together and be proud of themselves. It’s cute, and Stiles is starting to waddle when he walks so he’s not gonna bother making a fuss about shit.

Well, not that shit. Food shit, yes. Many fusses.

So much fussing.

Scott is like… The worst godfather. So annoying. Stiles has threatened to replace him with Peter seven times now.

Each time makes Scott tear up a little, and it’s so worth it.

Stiles gets pickled eggs and sushi for dinner the night before his water breaks. Derek’s there, making disgusted faces at him in silent support of his gross eating habits.

It’s definitely love.

The baby is… Complicated. He gets cut open for that cute little nugget, so he has to stay in the hospital for a little bit.

But baby.

Oh my god.

Stiles is 80% sure he loves her more than Derek, or his dad, or anyone. She’s amazing. She’s what Stiles imagines when people say 'cherub’ or 'little angel’ or 'little demon’, too.

She’s clearly related to him.

Stiles loves it.

He loves Derek with her a little more. Because Derek goes all wide, easy smiles for her. Stupid bunny teeth and bright eyes.

He cries the first time he holds her, and the second time, and the third time. The third time gets her crying, because she has no idea what’s going on, so Stiles tells him to cut it out and it’s fine.

She’s perfect, and Dereks perfect, and Stiles will kill anything that gets in their way.

Derek may be the wolfy wolf of this little family, but Stiles is the mama bear.

And they live happily ever after.

The end.

Aunt Chloe.

No one had ever anticipated the event that pulled them all that bit closer to the edge. Jesse Swanson was the greatest dad in the world (he had a t-shirt and apron that proved it), his daughter, Bella, was his pride and joy whilst his wife was absolutely perfect. 

But shit happens.

Chloe never wanted her best friend to be reading about how much of a great dad Jesse had been to their daughter. Chloe had never wanted to see even Beca being brought to tears, whilst an eight year old Emily sat just outside the door, keeping the whole affair from a five year old Bella who played merrily with her Barbies - the small blonde had never asked anyone why they were all dressed in black. 

Chloe had never wanted to see her best friend leading the case against the drunken driver who plowed straight into Jesse’s car, the bags under Aubrey’s eyes growing bigger by the day, whilst Bella’s time was spent more and more at her Aunts’ house whilst her own mother cried herself to sleep hugging that ‘World’s Greatest Dad!’ t-shirt between her fingers, the grip tightening as everything became that bit harder with only one salary to live off. 

Chloe had never wanted to see Bella’s upset face when she didn’t receive that Furby she’d asked for on her ninth birthday, her mother leaving the room in tears whilst Chloe followed her, the redhead holding her best friend tight whilst the blonde shared about the problems with the rent and how her parents weren’t even talking to her anymore, let alone offering any financial help. Aubrey’s job had been gone for three years at that point, the once highly acclaimed lawyer struck with grief that left her unable to fully concentrate without breaking down.

Even Emily wanted to help, the twelve year old asking for two Furbys that year, purely so she could give them both to her cousin, then placing her birthday money and a basket of food in front of her Aunt Aubrey, apologising for the low amount of money, but she still hoped it was enough to even cover one month of the small studio apartment’s rent. Chloe saw the tears forming in her best friend’s hollow eyes as the redhead placed a box of toys in front of the nine year old, the thin nine year old’s eyes lighting up.

Chloe had never wanted to see the day where two of the people closest to her heart turned up on her and Beca’s doorstep, purely looking for a roof to cover their heads and a safe haven for them to hide in. 

“I promise that as soon as I find a job we’ll be gone, I know even you two can’t afford for us to depend on you too.”

Chloe had never wanted to see the day where fifteen year old Bella was yelled at by her mother for getting a B in a test. They’d built them a small house in the spacious garden their Beverly Hills mansion held claim to, and she and Beca made sure that they were well looked after without Aubrey’s pride being dented because she wasn’t paying for anything she once did. Chloe knew that Aubrey purely wanted Bella to have the best chance at life, and she was sure the teenager knew that, but it didn’t stop words being exchanged and boundaries being set - Chloe wasn’t surprised when she saw Bella’s next report card in the trash, a B once again sitting next to Law. 

Chloe finally snapped the week before Bella’s prom. Seeing her niece sitting on her bed, running her fingers over what she could tell was a second hand dress, Chloe’s heart broke once more. She knew that Aubrey was working her ass off at one of LA’s many law firms, using long hours and a constant flow of work to try and persuade her boss that she was the woman who used to win cases without patting an eyelid. But in Chloe’s point of view, her niece had to go to prom in a new dress. She knew five hours of coffee making had bought that dress, but both her best friend and niece deserved so much more than that. 

Chloe had never thought she’d live to see the day where Bella once again hugged her mother, both eyes of emerald green and hazel brown releasing tears that hadn’t been shed for thirteen years since Jesse’s death. Bellas love for music had kept her afloat, the fifteen year old following her father’s passion for movies, despite having her mother’s intellectual ability. 

Chloe had never thought she’d live to hear the day where positivity fell from Aubrey’s mouth, 

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you so much, Chlo.”