#the deputy fanfic

[alien-slushie]

Hans: Uh sir, about the Young Master...

Deruth: What did Cale do now?

Hans: Um, he brought a strange man to the mansion last night.

Deruth, staring blankly as he misunderstands what he just heard: ...he what?!

[dallianceangel]

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 🚓

Here’s a random short fic for you 😁

🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🦋

You step out of the holding cell, bruised but victorious. Your brother, Jax, meets you with a grin.

“Deputy Hale told me everything,” Jax says, eyes twinkling with pride. “Ima’s in the next cell, looking pretty defeated.”

You smirk, adjusting your jacket. “Well, she needed a lesson. You don’t mess with a Teller and get away with it.”

As you pass Hale on your way out, you flash him a flirtatious smile. “Thanks for the quick exit, Deputy. I promise I’ll be a good girl from now on.”

Hale blushes slightly, nodding awkwardly. “Just… have a good rest of your evening.”

You wink at him. “You too, handsome.”

Jax shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

[dropofbittersea]

Stiles finds himself on the doorstep to his home in Beacon Hills, not remembering how he got here or why he’s barefoot. As it turns out, he was abducted a couple of weeks earlier from a college party and bears the same marks on his body as victims of a serial killer his dad just can’t seem to get a hold of. So there he is, with no memories of what happened, the last couple of weeks like a blank line in his mind and knowing all too well that he’s the best shot they have at catching this guy. As a key witness and in acute, assumed danger, he finds himself under surveillance 24/7 and more often than not, his dad’s best Deputy: Derek Hale, is sitting at his kitchen table.

[animasolascreenshots]

[loserreinawriter]

Can I get a Jess Black fluff? I always imagine that once Jess let's people into her life she becomes much more softer and touchy, especially with Dep since they met

The Heart Of The Huntress

Jess Black X GN Deputy reader

Fluff- 1.1K words

This isn’t as long as I wish it was, but I think it’s fitting enough given the theme! Sorry for the wait <3

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

It was always so clear to the Deputy when they first met Jess Black that if there was one thing the woman had, it was one hard and cold shell. It didn’t mean she lacked the ability for openness, no. She could be open and vulnerable, even if indirect about it. It seemed all was laid out before the Deputy when they went on to help her defeat The Cook, her story leading the path of their journey and soon enough the anger Jess felt towards the sadistic man had burned It’s way into the Deputy. It was sickening. It was enough to make even the strongest stomach churn with the upset it caused. If there was something Jess Black deserved, it was the right to be cold after all she’d been through.

The Deputy remembered the look on her face when she’d gotten her revenge. It wasn’t enough, it never had been. Her revenge was the first step to being able to heal, but that was going to be a hell of a trip for her to do alone. how much they wanted to reach out, just to place a single hand on her shoulder but they knew better. She didn’t seek their comfort, and they didn’t need to make this more uncomfortable for her than it already was. They didn’t know each other enough then but that sparked an idea in the Deputy. She sparked a light in the Deputy, and they could excuse it as wherever they wished but they knew from that moment on. They enjoyed her company, they wanted her with them.

So the Deputy kept her around, of course they did. A skilled woman like herself, her witty comments were enough to make them smirk and it sometimes even brought out a small laugh while the pair were supposedly undercover. It never gave them away, they were too good. They always had been, but it made it so much more enjoyable. She was truly one of their favorite people to do this with, their joint strategy of stealth and takedowns, Jess watching the Deputy’s back as the Dep went through each outpost and mission given to them. They worked wonderfully together.

The pair soon found themselves together at the end of a long day, seated comfortably at a campfire somewhere in the county. It didn’t really matter where they ended up, though they both tended to avoid the Henbane. It felt more private without the bliss tainting their fresh air. And that’s where they were at that fateful sunset, seated beside each other with Peaches across, sleeping soundly while the two watched over the county from a high up mountainside view. They were in a good enough spot to see trouble, and possibly even shoot it down if it was close enough.

The wind very slightly picked up for the pair, pushing Jess’ hair all around her face as it couldn’t escape her lifted hood. The grin that dawned on the Deputy’s face was enough to earn a playful shove from the woman, the pair laughing together as Jess reached up and pulled her hood down.

The soft stare from the Deputy was unintentional. She looked so much more free.. so comfortable. A smile adorning her features as those teal eyes watched over the county, one hand reached down to lightly stroke through Peaches fur. Her mouth moved as she voiced her opinions so openly, so strong in everything she said and declared. The huntress was unaware of the Deputy’s admiration of her growth and just.. her. They didn’t think they’d see the day she’d be so comfortable with them, it almost made all this fighting worth it.

They must’ve been staring for much longer than they thought, however, because within a second those teal orbs were now facing their way, a look of questioning on the woman’s face as she lightly jabbed at their shoulder.

“Earth to the grinning gunslinger, did you hear me? Or is this just how you take a conversation now? Jeez, I know silent and deadly is our thing, and silence is your entire vocabulary but I didn’t think you’d take it to this extent.”

The jab to the side didn’t hurt and helped pull the Deputy from their gaze much quicker, looking almost sheepish before just laughing it off with a chuckle and shoving her back. Their playful banter had become a daily occurrence, if it weren’t for the comments on the Deputy’s weapon choice Jess managed to find something about them to pick some fun at. She knew they could take the playfulness with her and it felt so.. refreshing. Their entire relationship, whatever it was, was refreshing. They always found time for each other, even after the most eventful and tiring days. Even when the Deputy ended up in the Hope County Jail Medical room for a full day and night, they forced Jess into a trivial card game. One where the rules escaped both of them. It was so much more than a partnership against the resistance now, they were truly something together. It didn’t need a name, they didn’t need any type of label for their friendship. They were closer than anyone knew, and that was perfect for them.

“Sorry. Miss what you said, my bad?” The Deputy’s head turned to look over the county once again as they smiled, feeling Jess shift on the bench they shared before they felt her against their arm. They didn’t flinch or move, but their gaze shifted immediately back over to her as their smile remained. She had leaned against them. Her head falling to rest on their shoulder. A silent gesture, one of many the pair had shared together. It was always so shocking when she made any attempt at being physical with the Deputy, but it was always accepted. It was becoming more of a common occurrence now and it made the pair feel a sense of warmth they couldn’t find beyond each other.

The Deputy’s shoulder tensed just enough to keep her upright as they tilted their own head to rest atop of hers, the pair letting out soft breathes as they settled into silence and their new position. It seemed the night followed their peaceful gesture as night fell over them, the dark blanket of the deep blue sky pulling over them as the sun settled away beyond the mountains. The twinkling of the stars begin to poke out and shoot their winks down playfully to them. They knew they’d remain here until the moon’s rays were coming over and above them and neither could complain, they’d find their way to a bunker or safety once they decided to do so. For now, their companionship was enough for them both, and contentment had settled into them both.

[lying-on-floors]

The Rye's and the Deputy

Nick was startled awake by a soft thud coming from downstairs. He grabbed his gun and made sure Kim and their daughter were safe before he headed down the stairs, his gun ready but he wasn't expecting to see what he did when he rounded that corner.

There she was, the "deputy," a 22 year old kid, her short hair greasy and her skin was dirty, probably from eating shit after jumping off of God knows what, yet here she was, on his couch, a can of corn and a beer on the coffee table.

"Hey, Dep."

She turned around and looked sheepish,

"Hey, Nicky. I, uh, Jimmied the window a bit, to get in," she stated almost casually, "b-but I'll, uh, fix it in the morning, before I do anything." She rushed out that last part, but Nick was already grabbing her extra pillows and a blanket from their closet.

"Here," he moved around the back of the couch and placed the pillows against the arm rest and he draped the blanket over the back.

"Take off your boots, and take a shower before you leave tomorrow," he placed his hands on his hips as he watched the deputy slip off her boots, "you know what, just stay for breakfast. Kim's gonna make pancakes." He smiled as the deputy made a little "ooh" sound. He helped her get more comfortable and asked if she needed anything else, she said no and they said goodnight.

Nick walked back up the stairs,

"False alarm, wife. Just the Deputy." He placed his gun on the bedside table and flopped back onto his side of the bed.

Kim laughed, "y'kno, we really ought'a get that girl a key."

Nick laughed, "yeah, it'll keep her from prying our windows open and breaking our damn house." His words may have sounded a bit harsh, but his tone was full of fondness, the deputy had become kind of a little sister to him over the few months that she's been in Hope County. No matter where she goes or what she does, she'll always have a place at their house.

(Wrote this at 5 am on no sleep, so cut me some slack if there's any mistakes or if it's lack-luster, I'm tired, lol.)

[seedofjoseph]

hellbent (WIP)

Author's Note: After posting homebound (link), I immediately began working on a ficlet featuring the overprotective love interest trope starring John Seed. However, I've only picked it up again this week, so I'm posting this early on WIP Wednesday.

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed as a madman. You? All you knew was that he was mad. Wrath he called you, though it sounded like it suited him better. Especially during his last radio call.

“Wrath,” he screamed through the static. “Godammit, Wrath! Where are you?”

“Language, Seed,” you shot back, not being able to see if you’ve hit your target, but hearing the words had wounded him instead. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I’ll find you, girl,” his words were muffled, his mouth probably planted close enough to kiss the microphone. “Even if I have to burn down every dive bar and liquor store in this valley to draw you out, I’ll find you.”

“Thought you let me break curfew so that I could go bar hopping,” you smirked. And, while he couldn’t have seen you do so, he sure as shit heard it in your tone. “I thought you let me out so that I could indulge in my sins.”

“I did and you have,” he answered, the coolness of it making him out to be as inhuman as the receiver his voice was coming out of. “And now I’m coming to save you from yourself.” Before you could press the button to press his buttons, John Seed went completely cold as the receiver went silent.

Feeling only a little bit frustrated by his lack of fire on this chilly night, you finally dismount your bike and let it recline on the stand instead of your legs. After, you unfasten your leather jacket on your short walk to the rest stop entrance, feeling only a little bit heated. Then, taking in the neon-lit shelves and the yellow-stained floors, you cool off with the thought of a cold Coke.

The truth is that you didn’t set out to indulge in anything else besides caffeine tonight. And the lie is that you bask in the fire your wrath left in its wake. That is the lie you fed to John Seed through your shared frequency, the target you put on your back as you drove away from Holland Valley, from everyone you wouldn’t want to be in his crosshairs. And the truth was that businesses that you were a patron of were going up in flames.

So you sigh in sweet relief as the taste of the sugary drink elevated some weight off of your heavy shoulders. “Needed that,” you paid for the half-emptied bottled as soon as you made it to the counter. “Keep the change.” And you exit before the kid on the other side of it can lift his head and recognize you.

All you knew was that John Seed was mad and you wouldn’t bet a poor boy’s life on him not blowing a gasket along with the rest stop.

“That you, Deputy?”

The door slammed loudly behind you, but it’s a shouting human voice that startled you.

You shake your head frantically and walk back to your bike briskly. “Not tonight I’m not.”

The man is indignant and you can tell from the sound that comes out of his throat. Because you weren’t facing him. You couldn’t face him. Not after what happened the last time you did.

“It’s me,” you hear him hop out of the pick-up and bounce back on his boots like he’d lost his footing. “It’s Jean. But you called me Jaaawn,” he slurs like he’d forgotten how you speak. “Yes, Jaaawn. Fuck yes,” he spits your own drunken words back to you.

It’s like he’s getting the both of you shitfaced again. It’s like he’s in your face and up your shirt and in your pants again. Like you never shoved him off of you and locked him in the bathroom stall. Like the bar is still up and running and not in ruins after some Peggie recognised you stumbling out of it and gave John Seed the excuse to indulge in his wrath.

“I’d buy you a drink, buuut,” he stumbles between you and your bike. “But John made them all go BOOM.”

Jean didn’t look much like John Seed tonight, so that drink he’d bought you was strong enough to make him shape-shift before your very inebriated eyes. Though he stands at the same height and combs back the same dark hair with fingers covered in just as much ink, his eyes are more murky green than clear blue. And though he stands before you untouched by the collateral damage your indulgence has caused, you don’t hesitate to lay your hands on him and shove him to the side.

“I’m going sober,” you decline, determined to quit drinking Coke, too, and drive off.

“Least you could do is moan my name,” he spits. “My real name. While I'm fingerin’ your pussy. That was me, bitch, not John fuckin’ Seed.”

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed had eyes and ears everywhere. All you knew was that Jean’s slurred speech had summoned him and the empty rest stop you’d pulled into is now crawling by his cavalry.

“Oh, my God,” Jean tries and fails to find his footing and stumbles backwards into your bike. “Oh, my fuckin’ God,” he turns around and takes you in, eyes filled with fear. “Don’t let him kill me, deputy. Please don’t let him kill me.”

Your voice is steady as you instruct him to get inside, even as your heart is rattling the cage that is your chest. And your body shields the entrance, even if your soul threatens to make its escape. But you won’t let it or yourself get away. And you won’t leave another trail of fire in your wake.

“Wrath,” he calls you, but this sin burns brighter in his words than they ever did in yours. And he hops out of the van in a hurry, already heaving like he’d been chasing you on foot through the Valley. “How many more lives have to go up in flames before you’re satiated?”

“None,” you raise your hands in front of you, adding more distance between the Reaper and the two lives. “Not a single one. I’m done.” Then, you stretch your arms above your head. “I’m done, okay?”

You were far from done, far from having your eyelids ripped open, the furthest you can be from amazing grace. And his big brother would’ve called you blind still, but you needed him to see you as enlightened right now.

What your blind eyes do see is something strange in John Seeds eyes, something which resembled a comforting warmth and not a punishing fire.

“It’s suffocating, isn’t it?” His voice is horse like he’s been shouting, and your throat dries like he is right. You are suffocating. “Your wrath has set the world on fire and you’re the only one left to breathe in the ashes.”

The little air left between the two of you is enough for you to exhale: “Yes.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[127lovegalaxyperson]

I FINALLY KNOW HOW TO POST AO3 NOW

YIPPPPPPP

anyways, full version below

...

'Huh?Where am I?'

As Henry Hotline slowly opens his eyes,he sees Monster Frankie, the contestant ,the Real Frankie and Deputy Duck in a minecart.</p>

'Guys,the phone finally awakes from his beauty sleep'

As Henry look towards the screen of Deputy Duck with Cartoon Frankie inside, Real Frankie looks over to him.</p>

'Henry !You haver finally awake, guys, I guess that all our efforts in saving him didn't gone to waste.'

With his optimistic voice,Monster Frankie gives a low growl to him.The contestant looks towards Henry but Henry doesn't know his reaction as he was seeing him with his mask.

'What's going on in-'

'YOU STILL WANNA CHAT ABOUT IT ' cartoon Frankie shouted.'GO AND HELP THEM'

Henry was confused, why would they all worked together? As Monster Frankie tries to kill the contestant, so as the Cartoon Frankie for ruining his gameshow.And now they are all together with him in a minecart.He didn't knew what to do or happened, but he knows......

Before another thought popping of of his head,the phone rang, making him annoyed,and when he tries to pick up the phone....

'NO!' all of them shouted and put their hands on the phone, forcing Henry not to pick it up.The contestant immediately sealed the phone with duck tape and taps him with some werid code.All of them are confused but Henry seems to know that he said:

'No matter what happens, DON'T pick up the phone,or we will all be in chaos.'

Later on, the contestant went to the front of the minecart where Deputy Duck and Cartoon Frankie lies, lightly pushes the Real Frankie from them and use Deputy Duck to scan the place while they were on the minecart.Then shows signals to the two Frankies that there are three switches, on the two sides and the ceiling, Henry felt werid as he knows them well, and he knew that BOTH of them doesn't like to be ordered (the real one doesn't show it ) ,but now not only they didn't kill the contestant, they nodded and prepared for the signal that the contestant as he raises his hand.

Three ,two ,one!Both of them had a tacit agreement and knew where were their positions. The real one lifts the ceiling one and the monsters lifts the rest.As the gate opens,the minecart continues to side down to the railroad.

Henry cannot understand what's going on, from the biggest enemies , now are each other's biggest allies .

'I couldn't understand what's going on !' Henry asked.

'YOU REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT NOW!' the Cartoon one said.'WE ARE ALL IN GRAVE DANGER, EVEN YOU, AND NOW WE ARE TRYING TO ESCAPE IT ,and I don't know why DO WE HAD A MINECART WITH RAILROADS INSIDE THE FACILITY!' As he angrily looks towards to the real Frankie.

'Told you that this would be useful.' He replied.

Henry then looks at the contestant going back to the back of the minecart, tell the monster one that they are slowing down . The monster one didn't hesitate about what he said and began to push the minecart with his hands . Henry felt even more confused. A robot who can kill people in seconds and doesn't like to be ordered, listen to a normal person, who would just die in a simple game ? How is it possible?

'Em.... Henry?' The real one turns his head towards him.

'Can you stop thinking for a second and START HELPING US'

As his voice turns even mad. Henry didn't hesitate as well and began to look for things in the minecart,thinking about what he could do.But what? How could he know what to do if he didn't know what has happened when he blacks out? Then Henry found something.....

'NOOB NOOBS?!' Henry replied in surprise.

'HOW ARE THEY IN HER-'

Without saying another word, the contestant took his and threw it outside the cart. Explosion sound was heard,Henry began to fell scared about what might happened but now he knew that he shouldn't waste more time thinking of it, took 2 Noob Noobs and gave one to the contestant and start throwing them.

They began to throw more until the contestant warns him not to throw too much as they will ended up losing them all,so Henry went back to the middle of the cart and give the noob noobs to the contestant.

'That’s the spirit. ' the real one said in a cheerful voice.

'It would be more helpful and efficient if you DO SOMETHING. '

the cartoon and Henry shouted at him.

'I am!' the real one replied. 'look!' As he was holding the tool box and a laptop. He was checking the security cameras to look for the thing that chases them. The contestant holds for a while. Threw the noob noob that he was holding, tells Henry not to give more to him and went to Deputy Duck to check more switches.

As he expected, there was a lever needs to be pull the open the gate,but it's too close to the gate itself, they will get crash into it as the cart was going too fast.

'Em....guys?' Henry said as they all looked at the gate. Before the contestant could say anything.

'CRACK'

the gate opens and they all went through it safe,but not all....

Chapter 2 might come soon

[mossmarsh]

two deputies one day! she and the med cat of fieldclan both have major stockholm syndrome toward ravenstar lmao

fun fact she is transfem :) for fun

pigeon also happens to be a somali cat! i was surprised actually to learn there are grey ones

[mlmxreader]

Tell Me All About It | Dewey Riley x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Hi! I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if I could request “You’re an idiot… and I’ve always loved that” with Dewey Riley? Maybe with like the reader confesses their feeling to him after being so obvious about them and Dewey never noticed it? I hope you have a good day/night! ^^

summary: it's not easy to try and drop hints about how you feel when Dewey doesn't pick up a single one.

tws: none

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Snuggled down on the sofa, you and Dewey were quite content as you watched a horror film about an urban legend that said that after watching a video tape, the viewer would die; he was pressed into your side, just shy of pressing his face against the side of your neck as he whimpered and flinched at the film.

It made you smile, you couldn't deny it, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and humming softly; he had seen horror films before, and had even gone with you to watch The Town That Dreaded Sundown when it had played at the drive through a while back, but this one was different. It unsettled him and made him nervous, jumpy even.

Certainly it was the cutest you had ever seen him. But there were other things on your mind, and if you were honest, you didn't entirely focus on the film itself. Your head was swimming with dozens upon dozens of thoughts, and every time Dewey pressed himself that little bit more into your body, you couldn't help but to get slightly lost in them; you weren't sure if he ever even noticed.

The blatant flirtatious comments, the fact that you only ever invited him out with you and no one else, the valentine's cards, the fact that you told him that you would marry him in a heartbeat if he asked - he didn't seem to take any notice of a single thing, and quite frankly, you were starting to wonder if he ever actually would.

You waited, though, until Dewey managed to push you over in a vain attempt to escape the film, burying his face against the side of your neck as he held onto you tightly; you couldn't stop yourself, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, manoeuvring him so that the tip of your nose was just and just touching his.

It wasn't like you had not been close before, intimate even. You grew up together, you were inseparable from the day that his mother introduced him to you when you were just toddlers; physical intimacy was just the natural way that things were, had been for years and years. An arm slung over the shoulders. Resting your legs on his thighs. Cuddling throughout the night, especially when you stayed over at his house. Kisses and hugs practically constantly. You and Dewey had always, always been so close, even before you had begun to drop hints as to what you really thought about him.

Sure, some of the guys down at the station teased him for it, and he would be reduced to a stuttering and blushing mess; it wasn't like he didn't have the biggest crush on you. He had done since secondary school, and he could remember the day as clearly now as if it had only happened hours ago; sitting in the history classroom after school to get some homework done.

You were working hard, writing page after page on the first world war; you were scruffy, shirt untucked and tie halfway undone, and Dewey had never thought that he had ever seen someone so good looking. You had ink stains on your fingers from the leaky pen you had been using, but somehow managed to keep it from the pages. But then you had spared him a look, your cold and determined glare softening, and a smile coming to your lips; it was at that moment that Dewey realised he loved you, and every day since, he had realised it again and again and again.

You sighed, pulling Dewey back to reality as he blushed and started to splutter out an apology, but when he caught you looking at his lips, he swallowed hard, and let out a shaky breath; your hand trailed up to his hair, grabbing the soft dark locks as you smiled and tugged it softly. He planted his arms either side of your head, steadying himself as he brought his hand to your cheek, and softly ran the pad of his thumb against your skin. You were so warm, he couldn't help the gentle whimper that came from the back of his throat.

"Oh, Dewey," you breathed out, and the way that you said the silly nickname made his head spin. "Dewey, Dewey, Dewey."

He could have listened to you say his name like that for years and years, melting against you as he licked his lips and hummed so softly, under his breath; you were so warm, your skin was so soft and you looked so good in the low light. Voices and screams rang from the television, but he couldn't look up, knowing that all he wanted was you. All he wanted was to be with you.

"I, uh, I'm-"

"Shut up," you whispered, grinning as you dared to kiss him so harshly.

Dewey couldn't stop it, couldn't fight back the whimper that escaped his throat before he came to his senses and kissed you back eagerly; he was clumsy, a little unfocussed thanks to the burning excitement in the pit of his stomach. But he wouldn't have had it any other way, as even a clumsy and unfocussed kiss was better than none at all, and he knew he was doing something right when you let go of his hair and splayed your fingers at the back of his head to keep him close. He knew he did something right, at least.

Even if it wasn't perfect, you still had a grin on your lips when he pulled away, gently tracing his bottom lip as you allowed him to straddle your waist. You couldn't stop yourself, holding onto his hips as you let out a harsh sigh to try and catch a little bit of extra breath; you felt dizzy, and fuzzy, like you had just gotten absolutely wonderful news. Winning the lottery.

"I love you."

Dewey grinned, raising his brows as his blush turned an even deeper shade of pink and coated his nose, ears, and cheeks. "More than a friend?"

"Yes," you laughed softly. "You're an idiot... I've always loved that about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you gave his hips a soft squeeze. "I love you, Dewey... I can't believe you didn't pick up on any of the hints that I'd dropped."

"You did?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

But you only laughed, so hard that you pressed your face against his body and allowed the vibrations to go right through him. "I love you, I'll tell you all about it later."

[gaqalesqua]

There's blood on her face and a voice in her ear. There's waves and waves of hostile foes coming for her, and she can't even remember her own name

[swampbrick]

Come get your juice, FC5 fans!!

The prologue for “in place of hymns, i sing your name” is LIVE!!

Ship: (Eventual) John Seed/Female Deputy

Updates will be on no set schedule, but existent!! 🫶🏼

[dropofbittersea]

Derek's first duty as a new deputy is the early morning coffee run to The Leaky Carafe, and it's not long before he discovers that the quirky barista has a knack for making the perfect drink. Every time. Even before you order.

But is it intuition, luck or magic that has all Stiles' customers leaving happy?

[honey-bunny-sushii]

Far cry 5 is dead. I demand it to be brought back OR I summon a new bestie to ramble my x deputy fanfic ideas and prompts with COME TO MEEE

[dallianceangel]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 ☀️🚓

Another fic for you 💋

🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🦋

You’re sunbathing in the park, headphones on, singing Sex on Fire loudly. The sun feels perfect after a night with Hale, and you sing along with a satisfied smile.

Deputy Hale’s patrol car cruises by, his eyes lingering on you despite his duty. You catch his hungry gaze and shout, “Eyes on the road, Officer!”

He parks and steps out, smirking. “Hard to focus when you’re this distracting. Last night was incredible, by the way.”

“Yeah,” you reply, getting back on your feet. “It really was.”

He leans in, and you share a quick, secret kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs.

You smile, eyes locking. “I love you too.”

The radio crackles urgently. “Assistance needed at 4567 Redwood Street. Disturbance. Suspect is intoxicated.”

Hale looks into your eyes, his voice gentle. “Duty calls.”

[plutotcles]

BITTERLY, JOSEPHINE SHOUPE ━━━ JJ Maybank.

→ back to. . . series masterlist.

PAIRING, JJ Maybank x Josephine "Josie" Shoupe (OC)

CHAPTER SUMMARY, Feeling lonely at a kegger, Josephine indulges into one of her worst habits but luckily for her, someone is always there to pick up the pieces in the morning.

WARNINGS, Some heavy drug abuse, allusions to sex and some hints at suicide ideation

Josephine Shoupe was no stranger to death and destruction. It was the thing that made her sleep at night, the song of death lulled her to sleep as the high of the pills soothed the everlasting low of her thoughts. She buried herself in day-long parties with meaningless hookups and drugs she didn't even know the name of, wrapped herself in a blanket of blissful ignorance and died every night all over again on the floor of her room, still dressed in tull and silk, skin sweaty and vomit in her hair—In an odd way, this is where she felt safest. With the lights dimmed and her rawest self for anyone, who was brave enough to tear down the walls that caged her heart and memories and tears, out on display.

The drugs were her asylum, her ivory tower. They were her lighthouse, the same way JJ Maybank was her siren.

JJ sang his siren-song, as he stumbled into history class, fashionably late, smelling off of weed and the sea with a laugh and the deathly call for an adventure and safety. That was, to Josephine Shoupe, what described JJ Maybank best—He was her safety line and her destruction all in one.

He was the one who did not tear down her walls, but climbed them up—He was the one who held her while she wept and watched her as she roared. And perhaps that was what made him seem so dangerous to her: He saw her at her lowest and did not leave, offered her safety at a point where everyone else abandoned her to fend herself, but to Josie that was not protection; that was a danger.

To be vulnerable to someone was not being strong, it was being weak. To kiss JJ Maybank under a lonesome star was not love, it was her slaughter house.

Josie's father—the great sheriff Victor Shoupe—had always tried to warn her, to keep her away from the scary, scary Pogue boys like JJ Maybank and John B Routledge but with one leg in the Pogue life and one leg in the Kook life Josie was confident she had chosen her family just right in the Pogues. Besides, when had Josie ever listened to her father.

JJ's heart was in the right place, Josie was sure, as was hers. They were two kids, left behind by the world—abandoned, neglected, you name it, they did not know what it was to be truly loved but they did their best. They had each other and if that was not enough, what could be?

"Are you okay?", a familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts, John B pushing a dripping beer right into her face.

Josie turned to face him with a crooked smile, taking the can with a feigned sigh, "Of course I am."

"Now, now, now", John B chastised, pushing her softly so he could sit next to her, "I got you the last cold beer so you better talk or I'm gonna take it back and drink it all on my own."

If there was one person Josie would trust with her life it was John B Routledge. He had been the first person to ever offer Josephine tenderness after her mother had left her all those years ago—He had been the one to save her life in more ways that he knew, the one who had showed up at her house just moments before she was about to end it all because he had a feeling she needed him. John B Routledge, and Josie was convinced of that, was her soulmate and still she felt like she could not talk to him about everything that happened.

Over the past months—ever since shit hit the fan—she had pushed her friends, especially the two J's of the group further and further away from her. In a way it felt solacing to know that she was protecting them from the horror that was her head, still sometimes she longed for just an ounce of comfort. That was typically when her head was up in the clouds and JJ Maybank came into the picture like something brough him to her whenever she needed him.

Josie sighed once again, leaning her head against John B's shoulder, "Seriously, B, I'm okay. Just very tired, dad was screaming at me the entire night."

It was no secret around the island that Victor and Josephine Shoupe did not get along—They used to, years and years ago when Josie was still a little girl with toothy grin and pigtails and Miranda Shoupe was more than just a vague memory of a woman leaving. Now they could not be more different. Josephine sometimes wondered where exactly they went wrong—if she had lost her father the same day her mother had turned her back on them or if her father had lost her the day John B Routledge and JJ Maybank had tripped their way straight into her life and heart. No matter when, no matter if it was a slow process or happened over night, it was too late to turn back now. Screaming matches, threats and lies that could not be taken back had brough them further away from each other until the only thing that connected to them was blood and the same last name.

"Why? What is he mad about now?", John B scoffed, raising one eyebrow in anticipation.

Josie shrugged, "I think it was because someone—and I'm not gonna say that it was JJ but it sure as hell sounds like JJ, made fun of him at work yesterday."

John B chuckled slightly, glancing over to where JJ was actively flirting with a touron that had gotten lost at their kegger, "That sure sounds like him."

"You know," John B continued, putting one arm around her shoulder, "I'm always here for you, right? You can always come to the Chateau if the big sheriff gets a bit too much to deal with." Or your head, he wanted to say but found his throat closing up on him. He had already lost his father, he couldn't bear to even imagine losing his little sister too—so instead he ignored the obvious and pretended like she was still little, old Josephine Shoupe.

"I love you," she muttered in response, laughing as she spotted John B's flirt of the night heading their way, obviously intoxicated, "Now get your girl for the night before she has my head for flirting with her man.", she chuckled, slightly nudging him in the direction of the touron.

John B groaned but stood up nevertheless, squeezing her shoulder one last time. Josie watched with a sense of grief as John B took the girl by the arm, JJ snogged with his touron for the evening and Kie and Pope were both deep in conversation with their own people. Josie pushed one of her hands into the pocket of her pants with a sigh—like muscle memory she fished for the little plastic bags with pills, all fresh and new from the morning. Pushing them into the palm of her hand with delicate fingers, carefully weighing them in.

That morning when she had knocked at Miles's door—the only one brave enough to sell drugs to the sheriff's daughter—his immediate reaction was to frown, You know satisfied customer, good customer but this is the fifth time this week that you're here, Jojo, you sure you're okay? he had asked, one eyebrow raised in true Miles March style.

Josie had met Miles about a year ago, three months before John B's dad had went missing and things officially went to shit. Over the twelve months the two had spend a lot of time together, getting high, cuddling, caring for each other—still, Josie had made it a great deal to keep him as far away from her friends as possible.

Of course I am, she had replied, the words rolling off her tongue easily but Miles didn't seem convinced, I've seen you high off your ass, Jojo, you are not okay and if this is getting out of hand, I am going to pay your friends a visit from one concerned friend. To see him so worked up over a issue that was soley hers felt almost menacing, like he was intruding into a life that was not his to invade but Josie knew he meant no harm, if anything he was looking out for someone along the lines of a friend—she kept persistent still and left immediately after she got the little plastic bag.

Josephine Shoupe, and she knew that much, was not one to get good grades, go to bed at ten and stay clean. She liked to believe she was—She liked to believe she was some kind of heaven sent angel who could do no wrong if only just to please her father but the Josie she had grown to be was far off from that—and so she caved in and knocked four pills at once back.

The hours after that went by in a blur and by the time Josie came to her senses, she was tangled up in her bedsheets at her home, sweaty body sticking to a naked sleeping Pogue, she recognised from school. Josie groaned as the full force of last night hit her like a brick, her head pounding and bile rising in her throat, "Oh fuck"

The Pogue—Amanda Witich, the Cut's newest edition—woke up with a groan, "What time is it?", she rasped, opening one eye to look at Josie.

     "Almost noon", Josie muttered. She was vaguely aware of her father's footsteps walking down the hall, humming some country song that she never heard before—It was his day off, his first in many, many weeks and Josie felt her stomach churned at the mere idea of spending the entire day in the same house as him.

Amanda hummed in response and sat up, awkwardly searching the room for her clothes, "I'll think I'll head out then. Can I leave through the front door or should I use the easy way out?", she asked, tilting her head towards the open window.

Josie thought about it for a moment, groaning as her headache only got more prominent. Her father was usually gone or fast asleep during moments like this but then, he was no idiot and probably very aware of what his daughter was up to every night, "Just use the front door, I don't give a fuck.", she muttered exhausted. Her head hit the pillow again and she turned away from Amanda, eyes already closed again and half asleep. She didn't care, truly, she wasn't meant for long term relationships anyway. She fell asleep before Amanda had even left.

When Josie woke up next the sun was long gone, there was a persistent knock on her door and a warm body cuddled against her—Josie didn't need to turn around to know it was JJ. His touch always felt different, their bodies melting against each other like being close was the only thing that made sense to them.

     "Josephine", her father's voice came through the door as he fumbled with the handle. He opened the door slightly, just enough for his voice to travel clearly through and to flood the corner of her room with the bright light coming from the hallway, "If you're home, the station called, they need me. I'm leaving now. There's some left over lasagna in the fridge if you're hungry.", he waited for a moment but Josie stayed silent and so with a last frustrated sigh he closed the door again, his footsteps quickly leaving.

Josie could feel the familiar tug at her heart whenever her father spoke to her but before she could let herself break, JJ had already pulled her even further against him, pressing a tender kiss to her head, "Sleep.", he whispered.

Her heart softened ever so slightly at his tired voice. JJ's here, she reminded herself, He'll keep the bad thoughts away. But could he really?