Summary:

Derek has an illuminating talk with Erica and they may or may not get interrupted by an unruly puppy stuffing himself with a pack of chips.

"You've got to be kidding me", snarls Derek.

A growly Derek, contrary to popular pack belief and 'The Grumpy Cat Universal Law' (see Stiles' thesis about the many expressions and emotions of a certain repressed and possibly traumatized werewolf) is not a happy Derek. Even if growly Derek is the only form of Derek they have ever seen, this kind of growly is, if one were to listen to Stiles' many nonsense rambles, the well-known sarcastic I'm-going-to-slowly-eat-your-face-if-you-don't-stop-talking.

Thus, Erica earnestly shakes her head.

Meanwhile, Derek is regretting some major life decisions. Why did he ever think it'd be a good idea to turn a pack of teenagers? He knew he should have turned Greenberg. At least he'd cower in fear in a corner and not sass him every chance he got.

"Please tell me you're kidding, Erica," pleads Derek. Desperate times call for desperate needs and, as the senior werewolf in the house, it's his job to knock some sense into his fellow moon howling buddies. Plus, he's not above doing his big brother I'm-disappointed-in-you face. It works with Isaac. "You're supposed to be the wise one."

Erica raises her eyebrows at him, before looking down and examining her nails.

How dare she. No one uses their eyebrows against Derek fucking Hale.

"Nope, you're confusing me with Boyd again, boss."

Derek sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great, they're back to ridiculous nicknames. 'At least she stopped calling me daddy'. He shivers, concealing his no-doubt horrified expression behind a scowl.

"How can you even think this is a good plan? It's terrible," he once read in an article that being brutally honest to young children is an important step for them to realize their wrong doings. He honestly hopes that same rule applies to the cubs in his pack as well, "and what the fuck is 'wooing'," he air quotes, "supposed to mean? Should I just waltz up to Lydia and ask her to turn him into a frog? Better yet, I could just knock him out so I can romantically wake him up with a kiss."

"You do realize that makes you the princess, right?" she smiles smugly, facing him, "Besides, I told you to woo him, not cause him brain damage. I do realize violence and threats is the way you charm the ladies and, while I can assure you won't have bedroom problems given your beloved's epic fear boners, you should just unleash the cuddly wolf we all know is inside you. Embrace it."

They hear muffled laughter and crunching noises while a soft voice whispers "burn".

"Shut up, Isaac", they both yell.

Wait, what?

He turns around blushing, finding Isaac propped against a wall with his mouth full of chips, pouting at being chastised. Derek crosses his arms in a way he hopes is menacing and does not portray the mindless horror he's feeling within.

Awesome, now he's going to be teased by the both of them. Besides, given Isaac's puppyish loyalty and track record of assholeness, he'll probably run to Scott with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs when Derek inevitably tires of their jeering and releases his pent up frustration on them. He'll most definitely spill his guts to Scott and tell him about his big gay love for Stiles.

"How long have you been standing there?" he tries to ask nonchalantly.

"Oh, don't worry," Isaac beams, "I got here just in the time to hear your ode to his moles. As a piece of literature, a little less gushing would be advisable, but as the fangirling of a grown ass man, I reckon it's fine, though pretty tame to what comes out of Stiles' mouth when he's drunk."

"…"

He settles for ignoring his cheekiness.

"I know right?" joins Erica, "He starts off angrily muttering about your unfair eye color and usually escalates to whining about how perfect your abs are and how your di-"

"That's enough," he coughed out.

He's saved from further embarrassment by the rumble of a Jeep's engine. Right, the pack meeting. Time to put on his big boy pants and deal with more supernatural maiming… who ever said werewolves lead an easy life? He sighs to himself, mentally preparing for two hours of awkward innuendos while he's trying to deal with serious matters and wonders, not for the first time, if maybe it wouldn't all be easier if he just asked Chris Argent for help.

Notes: I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPLOAD

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS MISERABLE CHAPTER

Like seriously, I need to stop writing in stray thoughts... it takes me forever to string a chapter together plus school is now the bane of my existence.

I do not, by any means, advise being brutally honest with kids like I literally don't even know, I'm never around young kids 'cuz I'm always super scared of holding them and dropping/breaking them so the more you know...

I seriously hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you liked/hated it, please comment so I can (hopefully) become a less shitty writer.

Also, I started writing this with a one-shot in mind, but right now I'm more inclined to make this into a slow building kind of thing, so if you guys like the idea and the vibe of this chapter, I'll make sure to keep writing like that! ^^