Hello everybody, I would like to say the story that I publish are not written by me.

My account only give a stage for stories I read and thought it would be more comfortable to read them hear at fanfiction.

The story is called: I Have Children and I Didn't Even Know It

By:ThePackWantstheD

From: Archive Of Our Own (or for short: ao3)

{ /works/523220}

Summery; "Holy shit," Stiles shouted, sitting up and staring at Derek as the Alpha shimmed out of his jeans. "I'm their fucking mom aren't I?"

Credits are saved for:ThePackWantstheD

"Everything is sore," complained Stiles as he flopped onto Derek's bed with a loud groan. The bed seemed to rise around him and engulf his body.

Derek hummed as he shuffled through dressers on the other side of the room, "It's your own fault."

"That's not fair," Stiles shot back. He tried, futilely, to wiggle farther into the pillows. "I didn't know Isaac was going to squeeze me that hard."

"You act like his mother," Derek answered, a dismissive tone in his voice. There was the slam of a door closing and the rustling of a shirt being pulled off. "And you always offer to take him somewhere with you. It's no wonder he had separation anxiety after not seeing you all day."

"I am not his mother," huffed Stiles.

There was a moment of silence, "Stiles seriously?"

"Seriously what Derek?"

"Just think about the way you treat him, the way you treat all of them, and the way they treat you."

"Hola~" Stiles called as he strolled into the newly renovated Hale house. He dropped his backpack by the door before continuing in with his bags. "Anybody home? I brought groceries because despite what Derek thinks you can't live off sadness!"

There was no answer, so he turned into the kitchen instead of popping into the living room to say hello. Since no one had answered him, he nearly had a heart attack when he found Isaac leaning over the island with his eyes closed.

"Isaac?" he exclaimed, his heart racing because normally the roar of the jeep and Stiles's shouts woke the whole pack up with their sensitive hearing. As he reached out to shake Isaac with equally shaky hands, one of Isaac's grabbed his wrist. Despite the tight grip all he could do was breath out a heavy sigh as relief coursed through him, "Oh thank god. I was afraid something had happened to you while I was at school."

"'M fine," Isaac mumbled into the table. "My head just hurts. I thought werewolves couldn't get sick?"

Stiles frowned as he let the bag drop onto the counter before placing a hand on Isaac's forehead, "Derek said you couldn't…" Stiles bit on his bottom lip. "I don't really want to give you any painkillers since they don't work and I don't know if you can overdose if I give you too many…"

Isaac whimpered and moved closer to Stiles, "It hurts…"

Stiles let out a breath, "It's okay Isaac. Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap in Derek's room okay? I know how much you like his bed. I'll see if I can't track Peter down and get some information from him."

"You hate Peter," Isaac muttered. "You don't have to go talk to him just because of me."

"Yes I do," Stiles declared, pressing a kiss to Isaac's curls. "Now go. I'll make sure no one gets you up before you're ready."

Isaac mumbled something Stiles didn't quite catch as he slumped out the door and up the stairs towards the bedroom.

"Um…Stiles?" Erica's voice was softer and kinder then she had ever bothered addressing him with before.

He let his eyes drift away from his calculus homework to look at her instead, "Yeah, Erica?"

She fidgeted for a second, her hands laced behind her back as she rocked between her toes and her heels, "So um… You know how I don't have my license yet?"

"Uh huh." Stiles's eyebrows furrowed together as he wondered where she was going with this.

"Well it's almost May, you know? So the ice rink is starting up a new class of first semester students and I was just wondering if maybe I could uh…" she bit her lip and when she pulled them away Stiles saw the faint pink of lipstick on her teeth. "Derek if really protective of the Camaro so could you maybe teach me using the jeep?"

Stiles blinked before grinning, "Sure! You're not going to try and crash it on purpose or anything right? Unlike Derek I really can't afford another one."

"Of course not," she huffed and Stiles couldn't help smiling a bit wider as she slipped back into her usual demeanor because shy Erica wasn't really something he knew how to handle.

"Tell me when you get your pink slip or whatever color they make them now?" he hummed. "Let me know if you need any help with anything 'kay? I'm pretty sure Derek and Jackson's driving habits would make you fail the test. I seriously don't think they know what a speed limit it."

Erica rolled her eyes, "Shut up Stiles." Despite her words, she kissed his cheek quickly before darting out of the room calling Boyd's name.

Scott was lying on top of all his textbooks with a pout on his face when Stiles walked into the living room with their soda.

Stiles barely blinked at the sight of Scott lying on top of his coffee table as he asked, "Is there a reason you're preventing me from working on my homework?"

"You're always busy," Scott declared with a pout. "With Derek or someone else in the pack or doing stuff for the pack. I miss you."

"That's not exactly my fault," huffed Stiles. "You're always with Allison. I feel like I'm a third wheel around you two, it's no wonder I spend all my time with my boyfriend."

Scott was quiet for a minute as his pout turned into a frown. After a moment he muttered, "I know. I just…I thought maybe since we're both free we could do something instead of homework. Like bake cookies or play videos or games or something – like we did before."

"I don't have the stuff to make cookies," Stiles deadpanned. "I tend to bake at Derek's now since there are more people there."

Scott's face fell instantly, "I like your cookies though."

"You would be eating them if you got your shit together."

"W-What? I thought you were okay with me not being in Derek's pack!"

"I'm okay with it yeah," Stiles agreed as he brushed past Scott and into the kitchen. The brunette climbed off the table and followed. "But I still think you should. I'm not saying this just because I'm Derek's mate either. But Derek's pack has Derek and Peter who can both help you with whatever you need. Your practically a part of it anyway. You always help out when there's something going on."

"I just don't want to-" Scott groaned. "Peter is just so-"

Stiles shot him a glare that made Scott shut up and sip the Capri Sun he'd taken from the fridge. "Derek has done nothing but try and help you Scott. You just keep-"

"You were the same way!"

"But I'm not now. I just want what's best for you okay?"

Scott was silent for a minute before he grumbled, "Fine. I'll think about it, I guess."

"Cool. Now move over – I think I have cocoa in the cabinets so we can make brownies."

Hearing sniffling, Stiles peeked around the corner of the staircase to find Jackson sitting on the couch with a box of tissues, a plate of cookies, and something that sounded strangely like The Notebook playing on the television.

He hesitated for a minute – Jackson had never been as comfortable with him butting into his life as some of the other members of the pack had been – before making up his mind.

"Jackson?" he questioned, leaning against the doorway.

Jackson froze up for a second before he turned to Stiles with narrowed, and wet, blue eyes. His voice dripped with venom as he demanded, "What do you want Stilinski?"

Stiles gave a half smile. "Can I sit with you? I like this movie." Jackson didn't say anything as he turned back to the TV screen with a huff. Considering Jackson hadn't said no,

Stiles took it as a cue to sit on the couch with him. "Oh, you're at the beginning aren't you? When they lay in the street."

"Yeah…"

"I like this part." Stiles drew his legs to his chest, watching Jackson out of the corner of his eye, "Before my mom…before she you-know we used to spend Sundays watching all these cheesy movies. It was like permanent Lifetime." He let out a throaty laugh, choking back tears of his own. "She always used to compare all of them to this and the Titanic. It's one of the few memories I still have of her."

Silence lapsed again before Jackson spoke, "Most of the girls I know like it. Sometimes I….I wonder if my mom – my real mom – likes them or if she's one of those people who thinks it's horse shit."

"It is horse shit though," Stiles pointed out and reached over to poke Jackson's leg. "But it's touching horse shit."

Jackson's lips turned in something that could be called a smile, "Yeah. It is."

When Stiles walked into the Hale House he found Matt sitting in the center of the green plush carpet with packets of paper around him and a pen in his mouth.

"Hey!" he greeted, ruffling his hair. "I have you seen you lately."

"Yeah, well," Matt gave a shrug which Stiles returned with a bitter smile. Ever since Scott had joined the pack there had been tension between Matt and him due to Matt's prior obsession with Allison.

Stiles glanced around, "Is Danny around here too?"

"No," Matt answered. "He's out with Jackson I think. I just came over here to get some of these done."

Stiles squinted at the packet being waved around. After a moment he let his eyes relax, "College applications? Not that I really mind, but if there a reason you couldn't have done these are your own house."

"They're for Film and Art schools," he reported with a small smile.

"Oh! I didn't know you were that serious about this stuff," Stiles exclaimed. He dropped onto the floor with Matt, picking one of the unfilled ones up and glancing over it. "Danny and Derek didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell Danny or Derek." Stiles's eyes flew up to Matt's face – it was unlikely that someone would keep a secret this big from their mate or their Alpha. Especially when it could involve something changing with the whole pack. The plan so far had been for the pack to split into group of about four or three depending on where they were going to college. Matt must have noticed his lookbecause he shook his head. "'I wasn't really planning on it. My parents aren't – they don't approve. That's why I'm doing them over here. It's just…I was online last Saturday and someone was talking about deadlines for most of them being net week and I just-"

"It's okay," Stiles declared with a smile. "If you get in we'll change things, you know? Honestly the only thing for certain right now is Lydia and I going to Stanford and that's only because we got early emissions." He glanced up at Matt, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Matt pursed his lips before nodding. "Yeah just copy some of the general things from one of the ones I already did please? You could help me put my portfolio together too. I mean…if you want."

"I'd love too." He reached for a discarded pen sitting half under Matt's thighs and clicked it. "Guess I should get to work then."

The basement of the house was a bit of a mess.

Half of it was dust covered books on sparkling new mahogany shelves and a giant carpet with velvet purple chairs on it while the other half was Derek's personal gym. The library portion of it tended to be occupied by Peter or any selection of the three pack humans while the other half was usually full of wolves.

When Stiles thumped down the stairs at half-past midnight after finally arriving back at the house after checking in that his dad hadn't been killed by any Alpha Wolfs, with the intent of finding a book of potions and charms Deaton had mentioned for his studies to become the Official Advisor to the Hale pack, he wasn't expecting to find Boyd curled up in one of the chairs with a book in his hands.

"Hey," he greeted with an arc wave. "I don't see you down here very often."

Boyd gave a weak smile, "I couldn't sleep so I decided…" he waved the book around. "I didn't realize we had actual books down here. I thought it was all research material."

"It was," laughed Stiles. "Lydia, Danny, and I each contributed a few from our personal collections." As he began searching the shelves for what he wanted he questioned, "What are you reading I don't mind?"

"Robin Hood."

"Ah! That's Danny's, probably." Finding what he wanted, Stiles flipped through the pages quickly before tucking it into his side. He was half way to the steps when he spun around to face Boyd again, "Hey I'm probably not going to go to sleep for a while. Do you want to come upstairs with me? I'll make us some popcorn."

Boyd smiled as he closed the book, "Okay."

Lydia was sitting on the steps of their apartment when Stiles got back from his classes.

"Thought you had one of your fancysmancy business classes," Stiles declared. He dropped his bag on the ground before flopping down next to her.

She blinked at him, "I do."

He glanced over at her as he let out a low whistle, "Second month of school and your skipping already." Her eyes narrowed into a glare that made his mouth snap shut. Stiles waited a few minutes, until she let out a sigh and leaned onto his shoulder, to ask, "So what's up?"

"I didn't realize being so far from Jackson would be so hard," she muttered. "It feels like there's this huge hole in my chest and it just-"

"I know," he muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her head.

Lydia shifted farther into him, "If Jackson were too- I mean if something happened to him I don't think I would be able to…"

"Derek once told me it wasn't entirely the fire that wiped his family out," Stiles muttered. His arms tightened around Lydia, "I'm not going to let that happen to you or Jackson got it? I've felt that feeling of your mate's life slipping away and, even though Derek always comes back, I'm not ever going to let either of you feel that."

Lydia fell quiet as she stared off into the street. After a while, she stood, "I'm going to see if I can make it to my next class."

"Okay."

She stopped midway to her car, parked on the curb since Stiles had permanent taken over the driveway with the jeep, "And Stiles?"

"Mhm?"

"Thank you."

He grinned, "Anytime, Lyd."

A frustrated scream and the familiar bang of a head against a desk made Stiles pause.

After a moment of deliberation he dropped the basket of clothes he'd been preparing to take to his dads house to wash – because god knew it was practically impossible to get laundry done at the Hale House during Christmas break.

Each of the members of the pack had been given rooms when they'd began spending most days (and nights) at Derek's house.

"What are you doing in here?" Stiles asked.

He took in the sight of Danny sitting in his incredibly spinny leather chair, shirtless and wearing only his boxers, with his head against his keyboard. "Stiles I hate my life."

"Aw, that doesn't sound very promising," joked Stiles despite the frown on his face. Crossing the room, he leaned over Danny's chair and looked at the computer screen to find it completely white. "I don't understand…"

"I was trying to hack into the bank."

"What-? Danny what the hell!"

"I wasn't going to take anything!" exclaimed Danny, giving Stiles a hard shove. "I just wanted to see if I'd learned anything from those classes I've been taking. I can't even get in anymore though."

Stiles hummed, "Is something wrong or different then normal?"

"I don't know," Danny admitted. "I just couldn't help letting my mind slip to Matt. I just miss him, you know? New York is so far from Montana and he's been a wolf the shortest amount of time…"

"Matt knows how to act in another packs territory and Erica won't let anything happen to him," Stiles declared, digging his thumbs into Danny' shoulder and smiling when he groaned. "Just relax okay, Danny? I'll send Matt up when they get here."

Before Stiles shut the door, he heard the clicking of a keyboard start back up.

"Ooh cookies!" cooed Peter as he entered the kitchen. Before he could properly grab one, a wooden spoon smacked against the top of his hand and sent him railing back. "What the hell!"

Stiles glared at him, "The cookies are for Isaac. I was so busy with papers and tests that I didn't get to call him to tell him Happy Birthday. It's few months late but I think Christmas cookies are better than no birthday sweets at all."

"So I can't have a cookie?"

"Not until Isaac and Scott arrive."

Peter pouted, "I guess I'll go see what the other pipsqueaks are up too."

"Wait!" Stiles interrupted. He reached for Peter's arms with sticky fingers and managed, considering his large amounts of practice with Derek, not to pull back when Peter glared at him. "Lydia brought something up at school and I wanted your advice."

Peter blinked several times before shrugging, "For a cookie."

Stiles didn't stop him when he reached for one of the treats.

He waited, expecting Peter to sit down on one of the bar stools by the island, before realizing the elder wasn't budging. "Okay then. Look I was just wondering how you deal with the fact that your mate is dead."

"Oh," Peter shook his head as he took a bite of his cookie. "My mate isn't dead Stiles. He's just an idiot."

Stiles blinked several times, "No? Huh…I always thought that was why you're such a psychopath

Peter laughed as he began walking towards the living room where the rest of the pack, or at least the part that had already arrived back from school, could be heard laughing, "I'm crazy because Gerard Argent told his son it wasn't okay to love a werewolf and then let his daughter burn my whole family alive."

"Oh my god are you saying your mate it-" Before stiles could finish the kitchen door slammed shut. A rush of dizziness passed over him and he collapsed into one of the stools, "Holy shit…"

"Holy shit," Stiles shouted, sitting up and staring at Derek as the Alpha shimmed out of his jeans. "I'm their fucking mom aren't I?"

Derek snorted, "Told you so." Climbing onto the bed, he wrapped his arms around Stiles and pulled him down onto the bed again, "Now shut up and go to sleep."

Unable to resist the lull of strong, warm, arms Stiles mumbled into Derek's chest, "This makes you their father."

"I know."

"Derek, you're your uncles father."

"My uncle is a four year old in a middle aged mans body."

"Okay yeah, you have a point. Is Chris Argent really his mate because I could totally go over there and-"

"Stiles."

"Mhm?"

"Shut up."