You’d originally stolen his hoodie from his locker because
it had been colder than you had expected and he had no objection. You ended up
wearing it quite a lot and Stiles often encouraged it saying that you looked
adorable before kissing you on the forehead and walking with his arm across
your shoulders. While that was the truth he just hoped that his signature red
hoodie was enough to let anyone interested know that you were taken and who by.
What better way was there to show that you had the Lacrosse
team’s captain’s heart than to wear his Lacrosse jacket? It had his last name
boldly written on the back and for the select few who had a more supernatural
sense of smell, it was easy for them to
realise who it and you belong to. You also loved it because you were constantly
surrounded by his scent and it calmed you. When Scott realised he really loved
you was when he was returning to class after leaving to ‘go to the bathroom’.
You were getting really nervous and he could feel your heightened heart beat as
if it was his own. But just as he got to the door your heart beat slowed down
to normal and he saw that you’d pulled his jacket off of his chair next to you
and slipped it on. Your small smile only got wider when he came back into the
room and kissed you on the forehead before sitting down again.
Isaac was just generally unhappy if you weren’t wearing one
of his scarves. You had figured him out
pretty quickly and realised that it was his way of letting everyone know that
you were his. He made up excuses: ‘you look cold’ or ‘it goes with what you’re
wearing’ even when it really didn’t. But you didn’t really bring it up because
he was happy and that’s what mattered.
Especially with his IED, Liam had trouble controlling
himself when someone else started to flirt with you. On bad days they just had
to look in your direction and Liam pounced on them before you or one of the
pack could pull him off. Liam had done just that and almost really hurt one of
your close friends because he thought he had been just too close to you. You’d
yelled at him when you got to your house after school, the frustration of his
over protectiveness just got to you. Liam ran off and you immediately regretted
every word that had left your mouth. He came back only a couple minutes later with
a silk pouch. Inside was a necklace with a charm in the shape of an L. “I know
it’s kinda stupid but I was going to give it to you for your birthday, and …
and I have one too.” He showed you his wrist where he was wearing a bracelet
with the same thin silver chain and a charm of the first letter of your name.
You knew you were falling hard for this boy.
Derek worried when you were at school. He knew you wouldn’t
even think about cheating on him but he wasn’t so sure about the no-good hormonal
teenagers. This wasn’t helped by Isaac and Stiles who had tried to flirt with
you within Derek’s earshot. It didn’t end well. So he started leaving hickeys
on your neck. You tried to cover them with your hair but they were always
visible to anyone who was near enough. But they worked. Also, you couldn’t resist Derek stupid smirk any time he caught
sight of them.
Jordan liked to pick you up from school to make sure
everyone knew you weren’t available and often used his break to do so. If he
had the time he would park down the road
and wait at the gate so you could walk together with his arm around your waist.
But he preferred it when he didn’t as he would pull right up to the door where
you would be waiting. He told you that it was just so he could see you as he
was often too busy but you knew he liked seeing the faces of the hormonal
teenage boys who tried to hit on you. But you endured it and rushed round to open
the door and kiss his smirking lips before he sped off again. “I can feel you
rolling your eyes y/n.”
Every girl has their own scent that they spray on every
morning and means you can usually tell who was coming around the corner or down
the stairs, Lydia was no different. After you spent time cuddling and watching
a movie she realised that her perfume had somehow got onto you. She decided
there and then that she loved it when you smelled like her. Lydia also figured
that if you were wearing the same perfume as her people would, albeit
unconsciously, associate you with her.
Allison didn’t let anyone think that you weren’t taken. In
the hallways, she would sneak up on you
and wrap her arms around your waist, even if you were talking to someone. In class, she would hold your hand while sitting
behind you. At lunch, she would place a
finger underneath your chin so she could turn your face towards her and kiss
you. Sometimes people would complain and tell you to get a room but Allison
would just swear at them, after all, you
wouldn’t exchange the affection for anything in the world.
Every time I see my baby Parrish in his cute little uniform and his adorable face, I’m forced to face that fact that Marrish isn’t happening because of fucking Stydia and I want to gouge my eyes out in pure anguish.
SUMMARY: Being the sherriff’s daughter has its ups and downs. Up: free rides after your car has broken down during torrential downpours. Down: this ride happens to be Deputy Jordan Parrish, leading to a new development.
WORD COUNT: 2,707 words
NOTES: none :) and you might spot some s.f.fitz lines because my friend send me a lot of quotes from his writings and it kind of influenced this piece (and there is much more after this but I don’t think I’ll be posting it…)
(Y/n) growls under her breath, kicking the back tire hard as rain comes down harder. Her Jeep just gave up on her after a very late night round of lacrosse practice at the school, and with a massive storm heading to the town, she can’t imagine how she’ll get home.
A car horn grabs her attention and she turns around, shielding her eyes from the downpour as a deputy’s car pulls up. The passenger window is rolled down to reveal Parrish, and she let’s out a relieved sigh.
“Need a ride?” he calls out as thunder shakes the ground. She nods and grabs her backpack from the keep, quickly climbing into the front seat of the SUV.
“You are my favorite person right now,” she says as she sighs again. Parrish chuckles and pulls out of the school parking lot, turning left towards (y/n)’s house.
“What happened to the Jeep?” he asks, and she looks at him.
“It’s one of the oldest prices of crap on the road,” she tells him. “I guess the engine finally quit on me.” He chuckles but stops as he sees the street in front of him.
“Shit,” he hisses, and (y/n) looks through the torrential rain. The streets are flooded, the water rising quick. “All the other roads are blocked to your house.”
“Damn,” she hisses, and he backs up to continue going straight before the water can reach his car. “What now?”
“The station is bare staffed right now,” he explains. “Your father went home hours ago, and from what I hear, your brother is home.”
(Y/n) sighs and leans back, shivering in the wet clothes. Parrish looks over and frowns.
“You’ll stay with me until the rain quits,” he says, turning right.
“Are you sure?” she asks, putting her arms around herself for warmth.
“Yeah, I’ll call your dad when we get to my place,” he says with a nod. He looks to her and she gives him a grateful smile, one he makes sure to return.
They pull into his apartment complex just a few minutes later and the water is up to the middle of the lifted tires. (Y/n) grips her bag and they give a nod to each other, sprinting out of the car and up the stairs. They laughs loudly, almost over the sound of the thunder, and Parrish opens his apartment door.
(y/n) drops her bag and they take off their soaked shoes as he shuts and locks the door. She looks at him, his clothes soaked like her and hair messy, and she can’t help but laugh.
“What?” Parrish asks, running his hands through his hair. “You should see yourself.” She laughs harder and he grins. “Come in, I’ve got some clothes you can change into.”
He leads her to his bedroom and as they walk through his apartment, she realizes how cluttered it is. Bullets and wires lie on the tables, books on the floor in pikes up to her knees. But the organized chaos feels welcoming to her, and she smiles a little.
“Here,” he says, tossing her a BCPD shirt, one long enough to go mid thigh on her. She nods and he points to the bathroom. “I’ll find a pair of shorts-”
“This should be fine,” she tells him, figuring the shirt could double as a dress. “Thanks.” She walks into the bathroom and changes out of the wet clothes quickly, hating the feeling of the cold fabric on her skin. She sets her clothes on the edge of the bathtub and runs her fingers through her hair. She slides the shirt on and it goes just a few inches below her waist, enough to cover her to where she’s comfortable with it.
She opens the bathroom door and sees Parrish is still changing in the bedroom. He has his shirt off but a pair of sweatpants on, his hair disheveled as he slides a shirt on. (Y/n) can’t seem to do anything but stare, until she snaps herself out of the daze and walks out to him.
“See?” she shows him. “Basically a dress.” He laughs, grabbing his phone.
“I better call your dad now,” he says and she nods as they walk to the living room. They sit on the couch and (y/n) picks up some stray bullets, rolling them around in her hand.
“Hey Stilinski,” Parrish says, grabbing her attention. “(Y/n)’s Jeep broke down and all the roads to your house were blocked, so she’s with me until it clears up.” (Y/n) can’t hear what her father says. She lies down, putting her legs on his lap and resting her head on the pillow. Parrish laughs at her, pulling her legs closer.
“Yes sir, I’m taking the couch,” he says, and (y/n) sits up.
“No, I am,” she tries to shout into the phone, but Parrish playfully pushes her back down. She scrunches her nose, a look he happens to adore on her, and crosses her arms.
Parrish hangs up the phone and looks to her. “I’m taking the couch,” he repeats slowly as he stands, and she stands with him.
“That’s not fair!” she argues. “This is your place, not mine-”
“You’re the guest, and just so happened to be sheriff’s daughter,” he says, looking down at her as he steps closer. “No way in hell I’m not taking the couch.”
She groans in frustration, falling back onto the couch and crossing her arms as she lies down. “Not if I fall asleep first,” she says with an involuntary yawn, grabbing the blanket at her feet and covering up.
“Why are you so stubborn?” he mumbles, turning the lights off. She smiles at him as he walks to his bedroom, where he climbs under the covers but makes sure to keep the door open. The sound of thunder echoes through the apartment and not before long, (y/n) ends up falling asleep on the couch.
Parrish waits about half an hour, making sure she really is asleep, and walks back out to the living room. He slides his arms under her legs and back carefully, her head naturally resting on his chest. He carries her into the bedroom and he sets her down on the bed, covering her up with a victorious grin.
“Damn you, Jordan,” she growls lowly, burying her face into the pillow. He just laughs and walks back out to the couch, taking his spot and covering up.
Not even five minutes pass before (y/n) shuffles out to him, lightning the only thing guiding her to the couch. She takes his hand and pulls him up, making him frown as she drags him to the bedroom. She climbs under the covers and continues to pull him, and he laughs as he’s forced to lie under the covers.
“There,” she says, putting her face into a pillow and keeping only a few inches of room between them on the large bed. “We both win.” He laughs covers her up more. He takes his shirt off and sets it next to him, and they both fall asleep to the sound of the storms.
She doesn’t know if it was the thunder that shook the apartment that woke her, or the flashes of lightning, but she wakes as the clock on the nightstand reads 2:17.
She frowns and sits up, looking over to Parrish. She catches a glimpse of his face as lightning strikes outside. It’s riddled with pain and he grips the sheets with white knuckles. He tosses and turns, and she realizes he’s having a nightmare.
“Jordan,” she whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder. He growls under his breath, still asleep, and she shakes his arm. “Jordan, you need to wake up,” she says a little louder. Lightning strikes and a roll of thunder hits the apartment, making him sit up with wide eyes and involuntarily grab her wrist tight.
“Jordan!” she shouts and he quickly releases her hand, panting as he looks at her.
“Oh my god,” he mutters, running a hand down his face. (Y/n) ignores the dull pain in her wrist and scoots to him, placing a light hand on his cheek.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks quietly, and he closes his eyes, letting her hand support him. She frowns, pulling him into a hug. “Want to tell me what that was about?” she asks, running a hand up and down his bare back. He shakes his head and grips her shirt in his fists, burying his face in her neck. She frowns more, nodding.
She lies down, pulling him with her so that his head lies on her chest. He wraps his arms around her tight, like she’s the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment. He lies on top of her and it doesn’t bother her, his weight and shape almost fitting to her body. She runs a hand through his hair and she can feel his laboured breaths, his chest struggling to stay steady.
“Do these happen often?” she asks.
“Every night,” he whispers into her shirt. “Ever since the army, mission gone wrong.” She purses her lips, finally realizing it’s PTSD that haunts his mind.
“When was the last time you got real sleep?”
“Before I was deployed,” he answers, and she squeezes her eyes shut. She swears she can feel his pain, like it’s radiating to her, and she wants to cry knowing he’s in pain.
“Sleep,” she whispers, pulling the covers over him to his shoulders. She runs a hand through his hair still and he holds her like she’s his anchor during a storm at sea. “Just sleep.” He closes his eyes and focuses on her heartbeat, and soon, he’s asleep in a dreamless state for once.
Parrish wakes first, the sunlight and absence of rain causing him to rise. He blinks his eyes open and looks down at (y/n), who lies asleep in his arms now. She has her face in his bare chest, one hand lying on his chest and another wrapped around him. One hand of his lies on her hip, another on her back under her shirt.
He lies his head down on the pillow and watches her, taking in how peaceful she looks and how right this feels. He realizes then that he wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning, with her in his arms and him holding her this close. He realizes that she keeps him calm at night, and that that was the first dreamless sleep he had gotten since years ago before the army. He realizes he needs her, and he pulls her closer as he does.
(Y/n) shifts, nuzzling her face into his shoulder as she drapes a leg over his. He holds back a chuckle and buries his face in her hair, taking in the scent of rain and dew.
She blinks her eyes open, her lips accidentally on his collarbone. She closes her eyes again, leaving her lips where they are, and Parrish runs his hands up her back to pull her even closer.
She likes this, she admits to herself. She likes how he has her so close and how his rough hands are somehow so soft on her hip and back. She doesn’t mind her shirt is rose up, because she realizes just how much she trusts him. She loves how he’s like a heater, and he loves how she’s as cold as ice, and how they seem to balance each other out is beyond reason to anyone in the world.
Both awake now, yet dazed by each other’s touch, remain still and in embrace for the longest time, neither wanting to move away. But the sharp ring of his cellphone on the nightstand pulls them to reality, and he sighs as it rings aloud.
“Are you going to get that?” she asks, her lips tracing his collarbone as she does.
“It can wait,” he mumbles.
(Y/n) just nods and soon the ringing stops, allowing them to close their eyes and relax their bodies to fit like puzzle pieces.
Someone knocks on the front door and both shoot up, eyes wide as they look at each other. Knocking echoes the apartment again and Parrish rushes out of bed, slipping his shirt on and covering her up.
“Pretend you’re asleep!” he hisses, and she throws herself onto the pillow and tries to look at peaceful and possible.
Parrish looks at the couch and nods as he sees it looks like he slept there, and he opens the door as he brushes a hand through his hair. It’s Stiles, an annoyed look on his face as he pushes himself into the apartment. Parrish just stares at him.
“I’m here to pick my sis up,” he tells him, looking around. “Do you believe in cleaning up, or is that just against your beliefs?” Parrish rolls his eyes and Stiles walks to the bedroom, Parrish chasing after him.
Stiles walks in, crossing his arms when he sees his twin. “I know you’re awake,” he says in a bored tone, but she stays still. Stiles sighs and jumps on the bed, Parrish laughing as (y/n) curses under her breath.
“Hey, you two didn’t fool around, did you?” Stiles asks, and (y/n) kicks him off the bed. “Ouch, okay, I’ll take that as a no…” Stiles stands up, brushing his shirt off. “Dad got the Jeep into the shop, he told me to come get you.” She groans as she sits up, running her fingers through her knotted hair.
“Whatever,” she hisses. Parrish watches her with crossed arms and Stiles looks back and forth between them.
“Are you two sure you didn’t-” (Y/n) throws a pillow at him, making him stumble back as he laughs and throws it back at her. “I’ll be out in the car,” he calls out as he leaves, the front door slamming shut.
(Y/n) moans as she stretches, standing up and popping her back. She pulls Parrish back to the bed and he laughs as they lie down, Serilda laying on top of him.
“You slept the rest of the night,” she mutters into his chest, and his hands trace up her body and under her shirt. She smiles into his shirt as his hands wraps around her sides, big enough to hold her easily.
“You’re brother is waiting outside,” he whispers into her hair and she groans, sitting up and straddling him. She puts her hands on his chest and his find their way to her hips again. He looks up at her as she pulls her hair into a messy bun, and he can’t help but fall in love with every freckle she has that paints her cheeks.
“You’re staring,” she says, and he grins.
“How could I not?” She smiles wide, biting her cheek as she tries to look away. Parrish sits up, keeping her on his lap, and kisses her softly. He was chilled by the innocence of her kiss and how her lips locked with his, how her hands pulled his face closer to her and pulled him deeper into the kiss. He realizes he loves her, and that this was the beginning and ending to everything they know.
Stiles honks outside and they pause, (y/n) leaning back but keeping her eyes locked on his. She kisses him once more, and it feels like the longest kiss in the shortest seconds. She pulls back and climbs out of bed, running to the bathroom and shoving her clothes into her bag, Parrish watching her the whole time. She looks back at him as she leaves the bedroom, and she pauses for a moment.
“You know where to find me if you can’t sleep,” she says with a small smile. And with that, she leaves, and Parrish is left by himself to sort out his love sick mind.