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berrybigpossibilities · 4 days ago

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oh my goodness i love them so much!!!! jake is so !!!!!! EKKKKK!!!!!! and she's so sweet. they remind me so much of tony and pepper, i'm so glad your turning this into a series, can't wait to see where this goes!!!!

Anywhere with you

Part 1.

Pairing: CEO!Jake Seresin x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: skipping meals, anxiety, general work stress.

Summary: Jake wants to make you happy. Even if you are busy taking care of him in the mean time.

A/N: Ya’ll liked my rich boy Jake so much, I think I’ll make it a series 😏 As always beta read by @voice-of-velhart. Love you sis.

They were in New York, at one of the many fancy hotels Jake likes to stay at when they travel for meetings. He was pacing back and forth in his room, running a hand through his already messy hair. He was annoyed, frustrated and stressed.

He had spent most of the day fighting with his accountant, and then his father who decided to give his opinion on how Jake was running his own damn company. The fight had ended badly and now all Jake wanted was a drink and a distraction.

You hadn’t seen him since this morning, running errands and getting things put in place for the brunch tomorrow. Blissfully unaware of how much of a menace your Boss is about to be, you knock.

"Come in."

Jake calls, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was snap at you, but that seemed to be all he was capable of today.

“Afternoon sir,” you greet slipping inside. Heels clicking on the marble tiles of his suite. “The Cygne room at Le Bernardin is booked, I’ll have Rachel checking centerpieces and menu in the morning..”

Looking up from your tablet you see Jakes tired eyes, more gold then green when he gets like this, and stop in mid thought. “Sir.”

He turns to look at you, leaning against the windowsill with his arms crossed.

"You always call me 'sir' when you're pissed at me," he observes, raising an eyebrow. "What did I do this time?" His tone is teasing, but there's a hint of genuine concern beneath it - he hates when you’re upset with him.

“I- I’m not mad.” The response is soft, given how sharp his tone is. But you know that he is projecting, a bad habit of his. “You seem… out of sorts sir.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair again before pushing off from the window.

"Dad's on my ass about Q3 projections, the board is breathing down my neck about expansion costs," he grumbles, loosening his tie with one hand. "And now you're calling me 'sir' like I'm some stuffy old executive." He shoves himself up off of the window, far too graceful for a man of his size.

"Fix it." It's half demand, half plea as he gestures vaguely between them.

You give him a pointed look, dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, the way you always do when your thinking. You never seem to notice the way it makes Jake’s gaze darken, or his hands fidget. “Which part? Your father? Or the board?”

"Start with me," he says, stepping closer and tugging at his tie until it slides free. "Then we'll deal with the board." His voice drops lower, playful but insistent. "And my father can wait his damn turn."

Those damn teeth on your lip makes him want to bite something - preferably you. But he’ll settle for watching you work that brilliant mind of yours… for now.

Glancing down at your tablet you take note of the time. 2:30, not too early. Though later than they would normally have lunch. And before he would normally have a drink but maybe he needs it. “Have you eaten yet today s- Jake?”

He smirks at the near slip up. He likes making her flustered. It's cute.

"Does coffee count?" He asks casually, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it over one of the chairs. "Because I had coffee."

He's always telling you to take care of yourself, to eat and sleep and be healthy. His little hypocrite ass… You roll your eyes as you find your way across the suite to the kitchen. “And I am assuming you didn’t skip your workout today?

Jake considers not answering. Knowing for a fact you already know the answer, so what was the point. But he isn’t in the habit of ignoring you. “You would be assuming correctly.

He follows after you leaning against the counter as he watches you start rummaging through the cabinets with a gaze bordering on hungry. And judging by the way his eyes trace the lines of you figure when you turn away, not for whatever you making. Mostly. "And that's all the self-care I'll be participating in today." He comments drily, folding his arms over his chest.

“It doesn’t count as self care if you don’t follow it up with food and water. Then it’s just torture.” You don’t even bother to look at him, you just point in the direction of his voice as you start to pull out sandwich fixings. “What did the mighty Howard Seresin have to say today.”

You were not the biggest fan of Jake’s father. A hard ass of the first degree, Jake would say he was the man who made him who he is. But in your experience all Howard did for Jake was give him a perfectionist mindset and an anxiety complex. The best parts of Jake came from his mother. And solely from himself.

He scoffs at the mention of his father, his mood immediately souring. "He wants me to expand the business, invest in a risky new venture." He drums his fingers on the counter, his jaw clenching. "As if I don't have enough on my plate already."

He watches you work, appreciating the sight of you making him lunch even though it’s not your job . He doesn't deserve you sometimes, no most the time, but he'll be damned if he lets you go.

"And you're not one to talk about self-care Sugar," he counters, nodding towards your coffee mug.

“I had breakfast.” You comment with a sigh. “But you’re right I should switch to water. I’ve been a little busy with my task list today…”

He arches an eyebrow at that, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Your task list, huh?" He teases, watching her assemble the sandwich with efficient precision. "And what else is on there? Curing cancer? Inventing a new element on the periodic table?"

He doesn't doubt it for a moment. His girl has got the brains to do any of that, honestly.

"You work too hard."

You turn and hand him his plate. A simple sandwich and a side of pineapple but it’s a start. “So do you. We deserve a vacation."

He takes the plate from you, a look of mock offense on his face. "Excuse me, I work just the right amount."

He's teasing, of course. But he won't give you the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, he takes a bite of the sandwich and makes a show of savoring it.

"What, trying to fatten me up?" He jokes, nodding towards the pineapple.

“Oh shut up and eat, sugar is good for your brain. And it was enzymes that are good for your gut biome.”

He grins around a bite of pineapple, amusement dancing in his green eyes. "Since when are you my nutritionist?"

But he obediently takes another piece - chewing slowly just to watch that stubborn little crease form between your eyebrows. You are cute when you’re bossy. Cuter when you think you’re winning this little game between you. Everyday is a dance, and every now and then he likes to let you lead just to marvel in the way it makes you glow, his personal angel.

Leaning back against the counter, he tilts his head. "Vacation, huh? Got somewhere in mind or just fantasizing about getting me out of the office for once sugarcane?”

One well groomed brow arches in surprise. “Since when do we vacation together. My last vacation was that merger in Dubai and I got a single day off to see the sights.”

He winces at the reminder. "Don't remind me," he says with a grimace. "I was stuck in the office dealing with the board the whole damn week while you were out sightseeing."

Guilt sits in his stomach like a stone. He knows damn well how much work he puts on your shoulders. He will much rather pamper and spoil you, put you on a damn pedestal if he could. But he knows damn well you would be cold and bored if he put you up as high as he wants too. And that you would never ever let him, not in a million years.

"You deserve a real vacation though." He says more quietly a moment later, his expression serious. He takes another bite, watching you carefully. "Somewhere that's not business related. Somewhere fun," he pauses. "Somewhere with a beach and no phone calls." He adds pointedly.

“Yeah I’ll make sure to pencil that in.” Half giggling at the absurdity of it. You don’t have the money for vacation right now, let alone the time.

“No, I’m serious and you’re gonna let me pay for it.” The lines of his face settle into that starkly serious stare, the one you see in board meeting so often, like he’s not taking no for an answer. When you open your mouth to argue, it only intensifies.

“Absolutely not. You gave me a car last month. You’re not now paying for my vacation. When did you become so generous anyway?”

He grins at the mention of the jag. It gives him a twisted sense of satisfaction every time he sees you in it. Because that's how he expresses affection. Gifts. Spoiling people.

He's not going to apologize for that.

"Last I checked I'm a grown ass man, and I can spend my money however I like." He counters, folding his arms over his chest. You can already tell that the harder you push the more he will double down."I'm only generous with the people I care about." He murmurs, watching her carefully.

“You… care about me.” The words are delicate, like they might break something around you if you say them too loud. Because, you know he does but you would like to hear him say it. It feels like sipping your toes into something deep, something forbidden. Throwing in a pebble to see how deep it sinks.

You don’t realize it’s endless.

His head tilts at the comment. Almost as if he has taken offense.

"Of course I do," he says simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're the only person in this godforsaken company I even remotely tolerate. You're smart. You're hardworking. You're funny. You put up with my bullshit. Of course I care about you."

He rounds the counter, that serious glare never wavering but his eyes are green instead of the amber they were 30 minutes ago. A pleasant color. A happy one.

“You know I care about you. More than I should. So stop playing stupid Sugar, it’s not who you are.” His hand reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. Fingers lingering on your cheek bone before dropping his hand. As if exposure to your delicate skin might burn him. “Where does my pretty girl wanna go on vacation?”

The nickname sends a shiver through you, his voice low and smooth. He's got you backed into the counter now, boxing you in with his arms on either side. You can smell the sharp, familiar scent of his aftershave. The faint whiff of jet fuel. He looks dangerous, like some apex predator closing in on his prey. You, his pretty little bunny, who makes a very poor prey considering you always let him catch you.

"Uh-" It's a struggle to think with him standing so close, all his focus solely directed on you. "Somewhere relaxing."

He smiles, clearly amused by your dazed expression. He likes the way he affects you, how he can reduce you to a flustered mess with just his proximity. His gaze flicks over your features, taking in the blush spreading across your cheeks and the way your breath has quickened.

"Relaxing," he repeats, stepping even closer. Your thigh brushes his as he leans in. He drops his voice to a low murmur.

"You're gonna have to be more specific, bunny."

You chew on your lip again. Gears whirring in your mind. Having him so close makes it hard to think. Makes it hard to do anything but wanna touch him. “You know where I’ve always wanted to stay? Even as a kid?”

He arches an eyebrow at that, the smirk on his face widening into a knowing grin. He's got you now, his pretty little assistant backed up against the countertop. And he loves it.

He is patient and predatory as he watches you worry that lip. Squirm under the weight of his proximity. "Oh? And where's that, sweetheart?"

He listens to you intently, his expression softening as you talk. He can hear the wistful, almost sad note in your voice as you talk about the cabins and the lake. He can tell how much you wanted to go there, and knowing you couldn't because of money makes something in his chest ache.

He can relate to that more than you will ever know. He had been the son of a rich man who was always away working, too busy to spend any time with his family. He knows the feeling of wanting something, needing something, but never getting it.

"Then we’ll go there."

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. They're impulsive, maybe even reckless—but the way your eyes light up makes it worth it.

"I'll book the biggest damn cabin they've got," he continues, watching your face carefully as if checking for any sign of hesitation. "Private dock included." His thumb brushes against your cheek again—barely there, but enough to send heat creeping under your skin.

"We'll take a whole week," he murmurs, dropping his hand and stepping back just slightly. "No work calls. No meetings." A smirk tugs at his lips as he adds quietly: "And no calling me sir when I'm supposed to be relaxing."

"Boat?"

He rolls his eyes. "Well now your asking too much." But he'll be damned if there isn't a boat now. Boat, paddle boards, kayaks, Whatever you want, he will make sure it's there.

Your eyes practically sparkle at his teasing refusal, but the corners of his mouth betray him—already fighting a grin.

"Guess you'll just have to settle for my excellent paddle boarding skills," he deadpans, nudging your foot with the toe of his polished shoe. "But fine—if it makes you happy, I'll get us a damn boat." His tone is exasperated in that way that means he’s already mentally calling in favors to make sure it's some obscenely luxurious thing with mahogany trim and an engine that purrs like a contented cat.

The truth? He’d charter a goddamn yacht if you batted those lashes at him one more time. And judging by your smile—you know it too.

#jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #ceo!jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun corporate au

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berrybigpossibilities · 4 days ago

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These Wolves Keep On Scratching At My Heart [Isaac Lahey/Reader] (4/?)

Summary: Growing up as a human in the Hale pack wasn't easy, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. When you're twelve, a fire takes away most of your family, except for your father and two of your cousins. You're adopted by a kind deputy and officially become a part of the Stilinski family since your father can't care for you and your cousins have fled town. You think life can't possibly get any more complicated until you're eighteen and your brother's best friend gets bitten by a rogue alpha out in the preserve. Word Count: 4.1k Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has shown this love. You keep me going.

Fic Masterlist // Read On AO3

You couldn't break the news to the sheriff that you already knew Laura was dead. It would only bring a lot of questions you couldn't give him the answers to, so you had to pretend like you were completely shocked by the news. At least the devastation you felt was real, but you hated that the sheriff had to take the time to comfort you on the stands while everyone else celebrated the win for the Beacon Hills lacrosse team.

When you noticed Jackson shoot you a curious look across the field, you knew you had to get out of there. Jackson would only pile on more questions and you weren't ready to drop the 'murdered cousin' news on him just yet. With any luck, you could avoid him for a day or two until you were ready to have another heart-to-heart with him.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Your dad asked, his hand on your shoulder as he hovered over you.

You shook your head before chancing a glance up at him. "I think I just need some time alone. If that's okay with you."

Your dad looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he gave you a pat on the shoulder. "I guess I can't say no to that," he sighed. "But you call me or Stiles if you need anything, you got that? And don't go looking for Derek. I want you to go straight home."

You nodded in answer, but didn't bother to tell your dad you had no intention of going anywhere but home.

It just maybe wasn't the home he meant.

When you pulled up to the old Hale house, you had to take a moment to sit in your car and look at what it had become.

As a kid, the house had seemed endless. You had loved playing hide and seek with your cousins. Running through the hallways and finding new places to hide. You suddenly missed the feeling you got as a kid that you could get lost in there forever. It never mattered to you. It was never a scary thought. You knew, at the end of the day, your family would always find you.

But now it was hollow. Empty. Devoid of the life that had once filled its halls with laughter and joy and love.

So, of course, that was why you knew Derek would be there.

You didn't have to wait long. You stood outside the house, staring up at it with all the memories of your childhood playing through your head, and suddenly Derek was at your side.

"How long has it been? Since you were last here?" He asked, his shoulders nearly hunched up to his ears he was so tense, and hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

"I haven't been back since it happened," you told him, your gaze straying towards the place where you were discovered after the fire. Your stomach swooped at the memory of the fall off the roof and the agony that laced through your arm when you fell. It was the last time you heard your father’s voice. It was the last time you were able to look at him and know he was looking back. "I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It hurts." You tore your gaze away from the patch of dirt and leaves, arching a brow at him. "Why are you torturing yourself by staying here?"

"Drop it," Derek snapped, not bothering to look at you. He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head back, staring up at the sky. After a moment, he spoke again. "Why can't I get into your house?"

You scoffed, berating yourself for not realizing that Derek would try to break into the Stilinski household. You had been so concerned over the alpha, but you figured Derek would have stayed away. He had done it well enough for six years. "Drop it," you echoed, effectively trapping you both in a stalemate.

"You know," Derek started, finally breaking the silence between you. "Your friends are going to get killed running around the woods every night sticking their noses where they don't belong."

"One of those 'friends' is my brother," you reminded Derek.

Derek scoffed, shooting you a disappointed look. "You're a Hale," he stressed with an arched brow.

"My whole life changed while you were gone, Derek. I'm a Hale, but I'm a Stilinski now too," you told him. "I should get going," you said before taking a step back towards your car. "You should find a better place to sleep, you know. You’ll catch a cold breathing in all this repressed trauma every night."

You heard Derek snort, but didn't bother to turn and look at him again. You had the feeling that if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave him behind.

The next day at school, you weren't in the mood to socialize. It felt like your whole life was unraveling and now there was a bloody, scratched-up bus parked outside the school and a traumatized guy in the hospital. The bodies were beginning to stack up and you had no doubt that the rogue alpha was responsible for the latest victim.

You just couldn't make any sense of it.

Why a bus driver? Why Laura? Why any of it?

When you got to lunch, you saw Stiles trying to wave you over to join him. He was already seated at a table with Scott, but you didn't feel like fielding any more questions from Scott about his transformation. You also hadn't entirely forgiven Stiles for going around behind your back and getting Derek thrown in jail, so you decided to pick a different table.

You scanned the cafeteria for a good place to sit and spotted a table with a lot of empty chairs. There was only one kid sitting by himself at the end of it. He was in the middle of taking a bite out of his sandwich while he flipped through a textbook. Before Stiles could try to grab your attention again, you made for the guy who was probably about to hate you for disrupting his peace.

You chose the seat that was only one over from the chair directly in front of him. "Is it cool if I sit here?" You checked, waiting for his bewildered nod before lowering yourself into the seat. You didn't even feel like eating, but you made yourself take a few bites of the apple you snagged on the way out of the house that morning. You could see the guy's shoulders were tense and he no longer seemed like he was reading his textbook. It was like he was waiting for you to either talk or decide he wasn't worth the effort.

"So, uh, your name's Vernon, right?" You started, not sure why you were so nervous. You were the one who had self-exiled yourself from your usual lunch buddies. You were the one who had sat down at a stranger's table. You were the one who had initiated all of this.

"Boyd," the guy corrected, shooting you a curious look. "And you're Y/N."

"Yeah," you confirmed with a nod of your head. "So, what are you reading?" You asked, hoping Boyd wouldn't hate you for striking up a conversation.

By the time lunch was almost over, you were starting to really like Boyd. He was quiet, but put up with your awkward attempts at small talk. He also seemed lonely, which meant that you were absolutely going to have to sit with him again. If anything, he would make a great refuge away from the dramatic nonsense that Scott and Stiles were bringing to your life now.

"Thanks for letting me crash your lunch," you told him, offering him a cookie from the pack you had swiped from Stiles' stash just a few days ago.

Boyd reached out to take one, giving you a small smile as he did. "It's no problem. I know I'm much better company than who you usually hang out with," he said before nodding towards something just over your shoulder.

You chanced a glance behind you to see not only Stiles but Jackson as well practically glaring at you from across the cafeteria. You had a feeling if you weren't careful, then another kidnapping was eminent.

When you looked back at Boyd, you offered him a grin. You couldn't deny that his company had definitely been a nice distraction from all the other bullshit happening in your life. "We'll have to do this again sometime," you promised, grabbing your bag and pushing back from the table. You waited for Boyd to nod before making your exit, making sure to leave him with the rest of the cookies.

You hadn't made it far down the hallway before you heard Stiles calling your name.

"Hey, slow down," Stiles said, reaching out to put a hand on your arm to stall you. "Why didn't you sit with us? Jackson was bitchier than usual, so thanks for that."

You shrugged your shoulders, attempting to still walk forward even though Stiles was trying to pull you back. "Hey, c'mon, I've got to talk to you."

You groaned before finally letting him pull you to a halt. Stiles shuffled around until he was facing you.

"Scott's freaking out," he whispered, glancing up and down the hall like he thought someone might be listening in. "He thinks he's the one who hurt that bus guy. Garrison," Stiles clarified when you just stood there staring at him. "What? You've got nothing to say?"

"Maybe," you started before turning and leaning against the locker behind you, "I would have helped the two of you earlier if you both hadn't snuck around and got Derek arrested."

"What do you care? You hate the guy," Stiles pointed out, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I don't hate him," you admitted, looking away from Stiles when he made an incredulous face. "He's family."

"Yeah? Well, I hate him," Stiles assured you. "And I'm sorry, okay? I know you don't go by your old house, and I didn't want you involved if it was only going to hurt you. And considering what we stumbled across that night, I'm glad you weren't with us."

"Yeah," you sighed, knowing he was right. Knowing Laura was dead was hard enough without having to discover her dead body. Maybe the execution of Stiles' idea to exclude you lacked tact, but at least you were spared the trauma of seeing your dead cousin. "And it's too late to worry about me going by the house. I went there last night to see Derek."

"What?!" Stiles flailed his arms, nearly hitting you in the face. "Why the hell would you go and do that?"

"Because he's not a murderer," you reminded Stiles. "He's my cousin and he just lost his sister and he's just about the only person I can still talk to about the Hale family. He has my memories, Stiles," you told him. "And I don't know, I just...I don't know," you said with a helpless shrug of your shoulders.

But you did know.

You wanted to be there for Derek. You wanted to make sure he was okay. You didn't want to lose him like you lost Laura.

"Just forget it, okay? We'll talk about this later," you promised, stepping around Stiles and making a break for it.

"Hey, wait," Stiles called, trailing after you. "I have one more important thing to ask you."

You didn't stop walking, but you shot him a glance over your shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Am I attractive to gay guys?"

You nearly stopped walking, caught off-guard by the question even though you really shouldn't have been. "Is this about your crush on Danny?"

"What! No! I don't have a...y'know, whatever, it's fine. We'll revisit this later," Stiles blurted before turning away from you and walking off in the opposite direction.

That night, despite the sheriff's warning about the curfew, you caved to Stiles' pleas for an ICEE. You were sure he was bummed out that Scott was out on a double date with Allison along with Lydia and Jackson, so you finally took pity on him and promised to secure the snacks if he settled on a movie for the two of you to watch by the time you got back.

You had chosen a gas station that was halfway across town. It had the best ICEE flavors and the best candy selection, which meant you got your Twizzlers, Reese's for Stiles, and three different kinds of M&Ms for the two of you to share.

You walked out of the gas station, a Twizzler already dangling from your lips since you were no longer able to deny the craving. You were balancing the drinks and trying to wrangle the keys out of your pocket when you noticed the cars parked across the lot at the gas pumps.

You nearly dropped everything in your hands when you realized it was Derek. He was leaning up against a black Camaro while he confronted the man standing near the hood of his car.

It was Allison's dad.

There was a car parked in front of Derek's with another blocking him in from the back. It didn’t take you long to put the pieces together. Allison’s dad had been tracking Derek and decided to take a moment to intimidate him. Whether they just wanted to threaten him or run him out of town, you didn’t know, but you were pissed off.

You could see that the line of Derek's shoulders was tense, but he had a cocky smirk on his face. Knowing Derek, whatever was happening was seriously freaking him out, but he didn't want to let anyone else know.

By the time you were securing the snacks in your car, you had already made up your mind.

You took a deep breath before you started to approach the group. None of them had noticed you yet and you wanted to keep it that way. Deaton had given you lessons about going unnoticed by enemies. He claimed it was all to do with visualization and being one with your surroundings, but you got the feeling he just really wanted you to be quiet for a while so he could get some work done.

Still, you regulated your breathing and kept your footsteps light and heartbeat steady. You were finally close enough to hear what Allison's dad was telling Derek.

"--family. And you don't have much of that these days. Do you?"

You hated him. You hated his stupid sly grin and the way he was leaning against Derek's car like he owned it. You hated hunters and you especially hated this hunter who had probably been tailing your cousin just to try to scare him.

So, before you could put too much thought into what you were doing, you stepped around the gas pump and put yourself between Mr. Argent and Derek.

"He has me," you said, holding your hand out towards Mr. Argent. You dodged Derek's aborted attempt to grab your arm, intent on keeping all the focus on you. "Y/N...Hale," you finished with a wide grin, ignoring Derek's noise of protest. "And you are?"

"Chris," he introduced, reaching out to shake your hand. He had to drop the windshield squeegee in his hand to do it, which didn't make any sense to you. Why he thought cleaning Derek's windshield for him was a scare tactic baffled you, but you weren't going to question it now. When he grabbed your hand, his grip was firm, nearly too tight, like he wanted to intimidate you but might have realized you were just a teenage girl, so he couldn't do too much.

You had no such reservations.

"Argent," you finished for him, gifting him with a smirk as you briefly tightened your hold on his hand before letting go.

"Y/N," Derek snapped, finally succeeding in grabbing your arm and reeling you close to his side.

You held your hands up in surrender, not taking your eyes off Chris. The other lackeys you weren't entirely concerned about, but the Argents had a reputation. You had been reckless. Stupid. But Derek was the only Hale family you had left beside your dad. You couldn't let him appear weak or alone in front of the enemy.

"Thought Derek here was a lone wolf," Chris commented, crossing his arms as he leaned against the hood of Derek's car.

"He's not," you assured him. You knew hunters had a habit of taking out omegas they claimed were a risk to a territory. You didn't want them getting any ideas about Derek.

Derek managed to yank you even closer to his side and you noticed his shoulders losing a bit of tension. He was still alert, focused, but you figured he felt better knowing you were in a better position for him to protect if it came down to it. Derek might not realize it now, but you were just trying to protect Derek too. He was the only Hale family you had left besides your dad.

"Right," Chris observed with that infuriating smirk still on his face. "I can see that now."

You opened your mouth to say more, but Derek reached out to pinch the back of your arm. You scowled at him, but it had the effect he wanted. You kept your mouth shut and Chris and his friends left after another blatant threat was aimed at Derek.

"What," Derek started once both cars had driven away, "the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Chris Argent and his little friends were trying to run you out of town. But this is Hale territory. And you're not a lone wolf, Derek. You're not an easy target. Fuck him if he thinks he can just stroll on into town and try to take over."

"Fuck, it's scary just how like your dad you are," Derek muttered before he started ushering you towards his car.

At first, you thought he meant the sheriff, but that was crazy because the only time Derek met him was when he was getting arrested. But then you realized he meant your other dad and you couldn't help but preen a little at the thought. In a way, you felt just the tiniest bit proud that you were carrying on your dad's legacy of being an absolute menace.

"Although Peter would have skulked around in the shadows and waited for a better opportunity to strike." Derek reached out to open the passenger side door of his car and gave you an expectant look.

"My car is right there," you pointed out to Derek.

"You just put yourself in danger for no reason," Derek reminded you with an unimpressed look.

"I had a reason," you refuted with a shake of your head.

"Just get in the car," Derek stressed with an impatient sigh. "I'll drive around until I'm sure they're not tailing us and drop you back off here. The last thing I need to worry about right now is if they're going to start following you around town too."

You rolled your eyes, but finally entertained Derek's protective instincts.

Once Derek was in the driver's seat and peeling out of the parking lot, you spoke up again.

"I had a reason," you repeated, hating the feeling of being berated. Derek was only a few years older than you. He had been fifteen, nearly sixteen when the fire happened. Just because he was older didn't mean he was any kind of authority figure to you. "I didn't want Chris Argent to assume that you were an easy kill. You heard him. He thought you were a lone wolf. So, yeah, it might've been risky and dumb, but lone wolves are easier to target than a pack. Maybe he'll think twice now before going after you."

Derek was silent for long enough that you thought the conversation had been dropped.

"So, we're a pack now," he observed with a carefully guarded tone.

You didn't think you had ever really stopped being a pack. Being family. But you didn't answer him. You figured you had already given Derek enough for one night.

Derek drove around for nearly half an hour before circling back for the gas station. He pulled up right beside your jeep and turned a serious look on you. "Go straight home," he ordered.

"Sure," you agreed, but once you got out of the car, you headed right into the gas station again.

You heard a door slam behind you and turned to see Derek following you. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting new ICEEs," you told him before walking towards the drink machines. "The others are probably just sugar and water now, so I can't bring that back home to Stiles."

Derek scoffed, but he didn't leave your side. When you got to the cashier, Derek shoved a ten-dollar bill at the guy before grabbing hold of your elbow and towing you out of the store.

"You didn't even want your change?" You couldn't help but wonder, trying to keep the ICEEs from falling out of your grasp with the hold Derek had on your arm. Derek escorted you to the driver’s side of your car before finally letting go of your arm.

"Home," Derek insisted with an exasperated tone once you unlocked your jeep.

"I'm going, I'm going," you sighed as you secured the new ICEEs in cup holders. You grabbed one of the melted ICEEs and turned around to hand it to Derek. "Want one?"

Derek glared at you, but dutifully reached out to snatch it out of your hand. "Thanks," he bit out, still waiting for you to get in your jeep and drive away.

He didn't have to wait long and you offered him a wave as you pulled out of your parking spot. You chanced a glance in your rearview mirror as you pulled out of the parking lot and grinned when you caught sight of Derek sipping the ICEE as he got back into his car.

You thought about the time you got to spend with Derek. It felt a lot like the childhood you had missed out on. Night runs for ICEEs and driving around town late at night and annoying the shit out of him. Even though the whole experience was tainted by Chris Argent being an absolute jackass, you couldn’t deny there had been a silver lining. You had missed out on a lot and you hoped for the first time in a long while that you got to make up for lost time with Derek. You thought maybe you both needed to reclaim some of the past that had been stolen from you.

By the time you got home, Stiles was waiting on the living room couch idly flipping through channels. He looked up at you as you walked into the living room, dropping the remote and turning to face you, his arm along the back of the couch.

"Where the hell have you been? I tried to cover for you, but the old man wasn't having it."

You handed Stiles his ICEE and candy, but before you could ask him what he meant, you noticed the sheriff enter the living room.

"There's a curfew for a reason, kid. Where the hell were you?"

You didn't know how to answer, so you held out the other melted ICEE as an offering. "ICEE?" You tried with a hopeful smile.

You heard Stiles groan as your dad reached out for the drink. "Don't think--" your dad started before his phone began to ring. "Hold on," he sighed before handing you back the ICEE. "Sheriff Stilinski," he answered, turning away from you and Stiles to try to get some privacy. "I'll be there," he told the other person on the phone before he hung up.

"Dad?" Stiles asked, watching him carefully. "What's going on?"

"Garrison Myers just died at the hospital," your dad sighed before passing you on his way towards the front door. "I want the two of you to stay inside for the rest of the night, you hear me?"

"Yeah," both you and Stiles answered.

After the front door shut, you shared a look with Stiles, realizing that the movie marathon you had planned was effectively put on hold.

"I've gotta go," Stiles decided, cramming a Reese's cup in his mouth before scrambling off the couch.

"Go? You heard dad. You shouldn't be going anywhere."

"I have to talk to Scott. He's got to know about the dead guy."

"Stiles," you called, reaching out to grab his shirt sleeve to tug him back when he tried to leave the room. You knew there was no use arguing with Stiles, so you finally accepted defeat. "At least let me drive you," you conceded before following him towards the front door.

Taglist: @mysticalfuncollectorus @pecxiebu @sammywritesfics @dunbarx

Author's Note: So, this might be the time to admit I'm a bit of a Sterek or Stackson fan…would y'all hate me if I add a little side pairing wayyy later down the line??

If you would like to be added to the taglist just let me know! 💖

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