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Stiles didn’t subscribe to the notion that ‘sharing is caring’ (except when it came to talking). It should surprise no one because Stiles was raised an only child but many saw the duo of StilesandScott and believed it had always been that way. It hadn’t. Stiles had only become friends with Scott when he was twelve, about two years after his mom died, and by then his only child attitude towards sharing had already set it.
Stiles didn’t like to share, at all. On his first day of kindergarten Jackson had tried to use one of his crayons and Stiles had stabbed him with his safety scissors (Stiles wondered if maybe that had been why Jackson was such a douche to him during high school). And then, when he was younger, Stiles used to pitch massive fits whenever someone took his mom’s attention from him. He got worse after her death. Stiles often went into panic attacks whenever he felt like he had to share his father, with the police force, a new woman, or the town. It got so bad that eventually his dad broke down and put him in therapy. Stiles wasn’t ‘cured’ of possessive urges by any means but he learned how better to hide it.
Stiles knew that not many people truly realized the depth of his possessiveness though; in fact the only person who knew was his dad and maybe Jackson (depending on the length of his memory).
So when Stiles began dating Derek Hale he did his best to keep a lid on his most jealous urges because he had no desire to win the dubious role of crazy, psycho boyfriend. However there were little things that he couldn’t help, like rubbing himself all over Derek so that any wolves they came across would know he was taken, or texting Derek dozens of times a day, wondering what he was doing, or cooking so waitresses at restaurants wouldn’t have a chance to leer at Derek (and they would; Stiles easily admitted the Derek was a fine hunk of man meat).
But when that bitch put her hands on his boyfriend all bets were off.
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“Who are these people again?” Stiles asked from where he was leaving against Derek’s porch manfully resisting the urge to drape himself all over Derek so the visitors would know to back the fuck off.
“The pack Laura and I ran with when we lived in New York.” Derek answered growling, annoyed at having to explain himself for the fifth time.
“Calm down sour wolf.” Stiles told him giving into his desire to wrap his arms around Derek.
“Why are they coming?” Scott asked, resurfacing from thoughts of Allison.
“An alliance Scott,” Lydia told him. “Were you even listening?”
“Of course he wasn’t, he’s too busy mooning over Allison.” Jackson snorted. This of course called for rebuttal from Scott.
Sometimes Stiles wondered how they managed to make a functioning pack as he settled in for a long argument filled with posturing. Apparently Derek wasn’t in the mood today because he let out one of his more terrifying growls, causing Scott and Jackson to flinch and lower their heads. Stiles snickered at the show of submission from the co-captains of the lacrosse team. Scott gave him a betrayed look but Jackson retaliated.
“Why are you even here Stiles? You’re not even a part of this pack.”
Stiles tried to hide his wince. As much as he knew Derek loved him Stiles wasn’t a werewolf and that meant he was never sure quite how he fit into the pack dynamics. Thinking about it always made Stiles feel a bit like an insecure pre-teen girl and that was not a feeling he enjoyed.
“Stiles is my mate and not only does mean that he deserves to be here but that makes him higher in pack authority than you.” Derek bit out.
Stiles shot a smug smile in Jackson’s direction and was about to lord his position over the boy before Derek stilled, sniffing the air purposefully.
“They’re coming.”
Stiles regretfully moved from his place around Derek to his spot near the back of the porch. As the only human present Derek insisted he was farther away in the case of conflict. Stiles didn't mind, he had no illusions of being strong enough to take down a werewolf.
A black SUV pulled up in front of the Hale house moments later and the Smith pack exited from the vehicle. Stiles watches silently as a woman quickly moves to the front of the pack. Not only is she obviously the alpha but she’s beautiful and dark haired and a perfect match for Derek. Stiles dislikes her on principle. Then when the woman, catching sight of Derek, runs forward to embrace his mate and plant a kiss on Derek's cheek Stiles thinks maybe dislike isn't a strong enough word. Loathes is better, yes, Stiles loathes this woman (who he is now going to refer to as that bitch in his head). Possibly more than he hated creepy uncle Peter.
Stiles balls his hands into fists as he watches the two of them catch up. Observing the way the bitch leans against Derek's side and the smile he graces her with (and all of Derek's smiles should belong to him) clearly they used to be close.
When Stiles feels blood well up beneath his fingernails he finally realizes how hard his nails were biting into his hands. Stiles looks up to see if anyone has noticed but they're all listening to the negotiations.
'Well that's one ray of sunshine in a shitastic cloudy day,' Stiles thinks dryly because he really doesn't need attention brought to him.
Attention would be bad because Stiles know that were the bitch to get any closer to him Stiles would try to rip out her throat. Not that he would succeed. And it is this point that keeps his mouth shut because even Stiles knows challenging an alpha is stupid. On top of that this alliance is important, given that they are hugely outnumbered and would certainly lose a real fight.
The conversation continues for another hour or so as the two alphas thrash out the points of the alliance. The entire time Stiles can feel Scott shooting worrying glances at him, he's even caught a few from Lydia and Jackson. He thinks their paranoia over his silence is ridiculous but right now he is not in the mood to reassure them. Stiles knows that if he opens his mouth a litany of threats and hateful words will fall out and he's trying to restrain himself because the bitch is a friend of Derek's.
Another thing stopping him from clawing the bitch's eyeballs out is that little voice that whispers that she may be better for Derek. Stiles doesn't hate on himself but he knows who he is. And who he happens to be is a over talkative, spastic kid suffering from ADHD with knobby knees and ears that stick out a bit to far. Giving the bitch another once over he knows he has nothing on her looks wise but that doesn't matter. Even though Derek deserves better then Stiles, he is a selfish man and won't be letting go of his mate without a fight.
When the meeting is over, the treaty smoothed out and everyone else has left Stiles finally looks up from the wooden plank he had been glaring at.
"What's up with you?" Derek asked as he makes his way over from the lawn. "I've never seen you so quiet."
Stiles doesn't say anything, just flashes a brief smile at Derek before dropping his eyes to map all the places that bitch touched with her filthy claws.
"Maybe I should invite the Smith's over more often if it will keep you this quiet." Derek joked as he reached Stiles pressing him against the wall of the house.
Stiles feels his tenuous control snap and he lets out a growl. Grabbing a fistful of leather jacket Stiles managed to reverse their position (only succeeding due to Derek's surprise) before slotting their mouths together in a rough kiss. It lasted for a few minutes before Stiles pulled back and moved to Derek's neck with the intention of leaving a truly glorious hickey. After he finished sucking a bruise in his alphas neck he leaned back to admire his handiwork only to scowl when it started vanished before his eyes (damn werewolf healing powers).
"Not that I didn't enjoy that but you want to tell me what's bothering you?" Derek asked, brow lowering into the beginnings of a glare.
Stiles ignored him, leaning into lick and nip at Derek's neck again because even if he wasn't a werewolf he could still smell the bitch all over his mate and that was something that he needed to fix.
Fed up with being ignored Derek reversed their positions and forced Stiles' eyes to met his.
"What. is. it?" Derek grit out, looming over Stiles.
"You're mine." Stiles muttered, not willing to further test the wolfs patience.
"And?" Derek asks, looking confused.
"And? And that bitch was all over you, all over what's mine! No one touches whats mine!" Stiles snarled, jealously and rage bleeding into his tone.
Derek stared at him in confusion for a moment before taking Stiles mouth in a truly passionate kiss.
"What?" Stiles wondered when they broke apart, now he was the one who was confused .
"You're pretty hot when you're jealous." Derek admitted. "Not that you need to be, because you're my mate and I'm yours. There isn't anyone else good enough for me."
Stiles raised his eyebrows a bit incredulously but didn't bother arguing because Derek had lifted Stiles into his arms and headed towards his bedroom, having decided that Stiles needed reassurance sex. Stiles isn't complaining but he thinks that maybe he should consider carrying around a pair of scissors. You know, just in case someone else tries to take what's his.