Word: Coterie
...
"You and your little coterie win, all right? I'm done with all of this, and you can all go celebrate with a huge freaking woodland party and invite all your mythical friends!" Stiles snapped, leaving and slamming the door behind him.
Silence reigned for a few minutes after his sudden departure, and then Boyd looked at Derek as if he's the one who fucked it all up, even though Derek's pretty sure he didn't. He didn't want Stiles to leave; he was just trying to keep him safe. Stiles was the only human in the pack, and Derek wasn't going to let him risk himself like the rest of them did - there was no way that Stiles would be able to heal from anything they were usually dealt with, not like the werewolves or even Allison with her hunter training. (Derek refused to acknowledge the fact that Lydia dealt with the same things on a regular basis and she was just as unprotected as Stiles when it all boiled down to it, though she still maintained that her heels were weapons.) Stiles was important, that's all, and Derek couldn't bare to lose another important person in his life.
"Uh, you going to go talk to him, Der?" Erica asked cautiously.
Derek made a noise of frustration, growling low in his throat at her question and Boyd's face (and Isaac's pining look at the door), and left the loft after Stiles. He didn't have to go far to find him: Stiles was sitting in his Jeep with his head on the steering wheel.
"Stiles?" Derek called when he was within human hearing range.
"Fuck off."
Stiles didn't even bother lifting his head to answer, and Derek glared at him.
"No. What the fuck's your problem, Stiles?" Derek demanded; he'd just left his loft to come to find him because his betas were acting like he'd kicked a puppy, and this wasn't his fault, damn it! He'd been planning on apologising, even though he still didn't think he had to.
"You! You think that just 'cause you're a hairy wolf every full moon you have more right to live this life! You were born to it, and what, that makes everyone not a wolf less than you? I wasn't born to this, Derek, I chose it, and I'll be damned if I let you tell me what to do!" Stiles snapped, finally looking at him, even though it was through the window.
"So you want to be killed then? Fine, go ahead!"
"Of course I don't want to be killed, you fucking idiot! I just don't want to be left behind!" Stiles yelled, letting out a scream of frustration and kicking and punching, and almost knocking himself out in the process.
Derek knew that he shouldn't laugh, especially not when he saw how angry Stiles was, but he couldn't stop a grin from forming. "I guess I don't need to worry about you being killed by some sort of horrible monster. You're more likely to kill yourself just by being alive."
Stiles' anger cooled to a simmer when he saw that Derek was grinning, and he scowled at him half-heartedly. "Fuck you, Derek."
"I don't fuck pack members," Derek replied with a smirk.
Stiles gaped at him, and Derek couldn't help but look at his wide mouth, even when Stiles realised he was looking and purposely licked his lips.
"I don't think you'll have a problem breaking that rule, Sourwolf," Stiles quipped, smirking now.
Derek couldn't think of a reply that didn't involve him crawling in the Jeep and making Stiles prove his words, so he just stood there and stared Stiles down. Stiles just rolled his eyes at him, and turned the key in his ignition.
"Don't go hunting that monster without me, okay? Maybe afterwards I'll be able to help you; I've been known to do a bit of rule-breaking now and then," Stiles admitted, winking at Derek before he put the Jeep into reverse and left him standing there.
Derek refused to meet the eyes of any of his betas when he went back to the loft, but they all grinned at him knowingly anyway.
...
End of word challenge.
Thanks for reading!
