macklemore is awesome

Big Deal

Going over it

Not knowing what it

Meant, how I should feel

Maybe it was a joke

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal


But my heart seems caving

Like I might just go raving

Mad, a raging maniac

And my mind is braving

Through it on loop and back

Bracing

Itself for another attack


And a tap on my shoulder

Makes me reel

I hear your voice

Cutting at my nerves of steel

I look up hurting

You don’t even give me time to heal

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Black Lives Matter, to use an analogy, is like if… if there was a subdivision and a house was on fire. The fire department wouldn’t show up and start putting water on all the houses because all houses matter. They would show up and they would turn their water on the house that was burning because that’s the house that needs the help the most.
—  White Privilege II (feat. Jamila Woods), Macklemore and Ryan Lewis
Busted - Jordan Parrish (Part 1)

Author: sterekloveaffairs

Characters: Underage!Reader x Jordan Parrish, Sherrif Stilinski

Warnings: underage drinking, consent, swearing, blackmail

Word Count: 2,384

If there was a way to describe this party, I believe I would use one of my favourite Macklemore lines: this is fucking awesome. The music was blasting through the stereo, there was laughter everywhere and plenty of food and drinks. Bodies were moving slightly too close to each other, but there really was no other way, as the house of whatever senior that was giving this party was completely packed. I took a sip from my red solo cup, and no, it did not contain something age-appropriate.

Don’t ask me how, but I had managed to escape both my dad’s and Stiles’ attention to sneak off to this party neither of them would ever let me attend. And to be honest, I was quite proud of myself. How many teenagers do you know that are able to mislead both the sheriff and his equally meddling son to do something illegal? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

I was enjoying the light buzz in my head, laughing and dancing with my friends, when the party was rudely interrupted by police sirens and cruisers pulling up around the house. And holy fuck, does that shit sober you up! If there is one thing my dad would not appreciate, it would be his slightly underage daughter (shut up, I’m eighteen in a month) attending a party when she said she was feeling a little feverish. I wasn’t really lying, I actually was sick, with DANCE FEVERRR!! Well, I should start running now. Being the sheriff’s daughter had a lot of advantages (free rides home, donuts in the office, seeing exciting stuff happening, mostly the handsome new recruits coming in for their training), but right now I just wished that not every single deputy in the county knew my face. I quickly said goodbye to my friends, and we all went into different directions. See, that was our strategy. If they didn’t catch us together, we could at least still pretend we didn’t know they were going to be there too, so no one could get blamed for being ‘the bad influence’. Brilliant, I know.

What I also knew, was that there was a small path running behind the house, leading to the gas station on the main street. I casually walked down the backyard, ignoring the stream of panicking teenagers that were all trying to save their sorry asses from some serious whooping. Suckers, sure, run towards the street, where at least half of the Beacon Hills patrol cars are waiting for you right now. I would just walk down to the shop, pick up a bucket of ice cream and continue my party at home. I walked down the narrow path, humming the song that was playing at the party, and I made it halfway through when I heard someone come up after me.

“Hey you! Stop right there!”

Well fuck.

I started running at a pace that would convince coach Finnstock to have me tested for dope, but I could hear the deputy behind me getting closer, his heavy boots grinding the sand. I cursed the alcohol rushing through my veins as I tripped and almost face planted into the dirt, but I kept running.

I felt a hand close around my arm, forcefully stopping me in my tracks and turning me around. I stared right into the face of my dad’s latest accessory, deputy Jordan smoking-hot Parrish, better known amongst the teenagers in this town as deputy Jordan I-take-the-law-very-seriously-especially-because-you-are-underage Parrish. He looked at me in disbelief, which I could understand, as most of the times he had seen me before, was when I was walking into my dad’s office with his lunch and an innocent smile on my face, before sitting down and doing my homework.

We had talked a few times before, mostly polite conversation, but Jordan Parrish obviously knew about the supernatural, and he seemed to feel some kind of extra responsibility towards me, as I was human and still had a talent for getting myself into some sort of magical trouble. Why he was not all that worried about my twin brother Stiles was a mystery to me.

The poor guy was speechless and I tried making use of his confusion by pulling my arm away and trying to run again, which, of course, I failed at and he pinned both my arms behind my back. So much for being nice and protective…

“I would ask you what you are doing here, but I don’t even want to know,” he muttered while escorting me back down the path, obviously not bothered with my struggling.

“Aren’t you going to read me my rights?” I slurred.

“You’re drunk? Oh God, how could you do that?”

“Well, usually it requires drinking a beverage that contains a certain amount of alcohol.”

“Shut up, smarty pants. What is your dad going to say about this, huh?” I had some ideas of what he was going to say. None of them were very nice.

Parrish got a call on his radio, asking where he was and if there was more ‘trouble makers’ there. He held me by the collar of my coat -and shirt, so no I could not wiggle out of there and run, of course I thought about that, you idiot- while he answered the deputy.

“No one here. I went all the way to the main road. You can already leave, I’ll follow when I walked back.” I frowned. Why was he not excitedly telling them that he himself had caught the Sheriff’s daughter red-handedly at attending an illegal house party and drinking underage? I mean, that’s what I would have done. But then again, I’m kind of an asshole.

“Why were you not telling them that I’m here?” I asked while he walked me back. He hesitated, then let out a sigh.

“There’s already a few deputies doubting if the Sheriff can handle Beacon Hills when he doesn’t know half the time where his kids are. They don’t need to know this, it won’t be good for your dad’s reputation.” So that meant…

“You’re not taking me to the police station?” I could barely hide my confusion. Was this still Jordan Parrish, the guy that does everything by the book and feels personally responsible for every misbehaving minor in the county?

“I’m taking you home and I will talk to your dad in private. I hope you know you are in deep trouble, missy.” Yeah, thanks, genius, I could have guessed that when I was still in preschool. This was not good, my dad would not be amused and he would be even stricter with me because I had not gotten a legal punishment. He couldn’t tell my dad! Well, time for begging I guess.

“Please don’t tell him,” I said while we reach his cruiser and he put me in the backseat.

“You leave me no choice. Now please don’t throw up in there or I will still get you to the station so he can let you have it right now.”

“Please, Jordan, you can’t-“ He cut me off by closing the door, and I felt a little bit insulted. Like, I was talking to him, cutting me off like that was just rude! I followed him with my eyes when he walked around the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat.

“That’s deputy Parrish for you,” he said. My eyebrows shot up halfway to the moon. Oh, so he was going to give me attitude? Whenever we had been chasing whatever supernatural thing out there, he never made a problem of any of us calling him by his first name, and now it was deputy all of a sudden? Two could play that game, and the fact that the alcohol had destroyed the few boundaries I had anyway, didn’t really make me stop and think before opening my mouth again.

“Sure, deputy, if you’re into that kind of stuff,” I said seductively while leaning closer towards him. I wasn’t ugly, I knew for a fact that at least half the lacrosse team was trying to get past Scott and Stiles to go out with me, and I knew that my cleavage was fairly visible in the rear-view mirror of the cruiser. Parrish didn’t answer me, or responded in any way for that matter, but I did notice the slight blush creeping up his cheeks. What was that now? Was this really deputy Jordan Parrish being flustered by a drunk, teenage, and so underage, girl in the back of his cruiser? Things might even get interesting tonight, and I had thought that the party was over.

He started the car and pulled out onto the road, and to my amusement I noticed that he was completely avoiding the rear-view mirror.

“Please, deputy,” I purred, “don’t tell my daddy, he’ll be so angry.”

“He’s damn right to be.”

“So you just want me to get punished?” I mewled. He swallowed, ignoring my last statement. I was satisfied that I made this even more awkward for him then it was for me.

The drive home was silent, and when he pulled into the driveway of our house, I was relieved to see it was dark inside. At least there was a chance I could sleep off the alcohol before facing my dad’s rage. I had to think of something, Parrish could not tell him!

“Come on, out,” he said. I suppressed the urge to bark at him, feeling insulted once again. But my mind was racing. As soon as I’d get out, he would be able to drive back to the station and tell my dad like the snitch he was. Solution: not getting out of the car.

“I can’t,” I said with a sad face, “I don’t think my legs remember how to walk.” This time Parrish did glance towards me in the rear-view mirror, and apparently my acting was sufficient to convince him that it was actually possible that I might be a little too drunk to walk by myself. He let out a deep sigh and turned off the engine, walking to the door of the cruiser and helping me out. Well, at least he would need to make a lot of effort to get me inside before he could go off and tell on me. He put his hand around my waist and lifted me out of the car with surprising ease. I could feel his muscles through his shirt, and I held back the smile that wanted to light up my face.

He helped me walk up to the front door, asked if I was going to be okay for the night, and I looked up at him. He seemed sincerely worried.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” I pulled myself away from him, pretended to stumble and as predicted, he caught me again. I giggled while grabbing his shirt, leaning into him.

“Jesus Christ, you are so drunk. Do you even realise what could have happened to you?” I looked into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked with big doe eyes. I was very good at that.

“You’re lucky that it’s me who put you in a car to drive you home. I can only imagine how many teenage boys would love to take advantage of you when you’re in this state. Especially dressed like this.” I pouted, looked down at my (okay, yeah, I’ll admit, pretty skimpy) outfit. Nice cleavage, quite short skirt, and endless legs to serve it right.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I almost convinced myself that I was about to cry.

“No, I don’t mean it like that, there’s nothing wrong with-“

“I thought it was pretty, am I not pretty?” I continued, seeing the panic rise in his eyes, because yeah, I was a rebellious teenager breaking the law, but Parrish would never ever ever want to upset me. He was too nice for that. He was just digging his own grave at this moment.

“Of course you are! I mean, you’re gorgeous, but it-“

“I think you’re pretty too.” It was more than amusing to see him struggle with this. He blinked a few times and stuttered his next few words.

“I- What? No, you can’t-“ I cut him off by  pressing my lips to his. I caught him by surprise, but… He didn’t push me away. Not immediately. I actually kind of liked this. It was only when I started to get a little too confident and licked his lips, that he pushed me away.

“I think it’s time for you to go inside. Will you be okay?” I smiled and nodded. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

“I think so. Especially now that you won’t tell my dad.” He immediately noticed the change in my voice and stance and realised that I was in fact not as drunk as I had been pretending to be.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t tell my boss that I put his underage daughter in my car without telling anyone else, just so I could drive her home and take advantage of the fact that she is drunk and willing.”  The look. On his. Face. Brilliant! He had no idea what to say, but when he wanted to protest, I leaned towards him.

“Or have you forgotten about the dash cams that all the cruisers have now?” He froze, looked at the car in front of which we were positioned perfectly for the camera to record everything. He went pale and turned towards me again.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Try me. I just told you I can take care of myself. Goodnight!” I pecked his cheek and opened the front door, feeling confident that he would not say a word. He knew that my dad would check the camera if I told him what just happened, and even if it was clear that I initiated the kiss, he knew it would also be obvious that he should have pushed me away a lot faster.

And when I woke up the next morning and went down for breakfast, and dad greeted me with a smile and asked me if I was still feeling feverish, I knew I had won.