Keeping Her Awake
Disclaimer: Do not own either Twilight or Harry Potter. Mores the pity.
A/N – First crossover! Not much of one, I'll admit, but as neither Disconnected or Wild Birds is cooperating at the moment, I thought why not combine the two fandoms? Maybe it'll help to work with characters from both worlds? You never know. So, here's the result, hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! ;)
Warning! - Contains adult content. Please do not read if you're not old enough.
Hermione sighed as she lay back against the pillows at the head of the bed. It had been a long day. She'd spent most of the morning arguing with a group of scared and angry wizards in Seattle, then most of the afternoon trying to get the shifter they were scared of to trust her. The shifter – whose other half had turned out to be coyote – had finally agreed to meet with the La Push Pack and get the answers to the questions he'd desperately needed. She'd then had to go back to the wizards the shifter had been stealing from and unintentionally terrorizing, to convince them that their problem had been taken care of and they no longer had to go after the 'werewolf' with fire and pitchforks.
She rubbed her face with her hands and yawned, jaw stretching and cracking with the force of it. She was so looking forward to a good night's sleep, but more than that, she was so looking forward to spending some quality time with Jacob. They didn't spend enough time together anymore. They used to, back when Hermione had first accepted the job the Washington division of the American Ministry had offered her. Back then, however, the imprint had been shiny and new and Jacob couldn't not spent time with her, couldn't not see her. It had settled since then, so that their relationship was now more like a normal partnership, which Hermione was extremely glad of. Jacob loving her only because he didn't have a choice had been one of the things that had had her running from the imprint when it had first happened.
Fortunately, Jacob had chased her, and now, years later, she was happily settled into being a wife and mother, as well as still working in her dream job. Hermione loved her life, she really did. Dealing with magical creatures and then coming home to her gorgeous little girl was fun, thrilling and very fulfilling. Be that as it may, both took up a lot of time, and both certainly took an axe to any alone time she might have with her daughter's father, especially when they left her as exhausted as she was now.
She missed him.
As if thinking of her husband had brought him forth, the door opened and Jacob stepped into the bedroom. A welcoming, albeit tired smile spread across Hermione's face.
"She go down okay?"
"Fine, if you count the same story repeated over and over," Jacob said with a grimace, rolling his eyes. "I don't understand how she can love it so much."
"Three Little Pigs amuses her, Jake," Hermione told him, grinning at her husband. "She giggles every time the wolf huffs and puffs and blows the houses down. You know she's imaging you doing it."
"Probably," Jacob agreed with a snort, walking over to the bed and climbing up until he was sitting facing her, legs crossed. "Our daughter is far too intelligent for her own good. I wonder who she gets that from?"
"I have no clue," Hermione said primly, smiling at him again when he laughed. Reaching out, she grabbed the lapels of his shirt and tugged him closer until he was sitting between her bent legs. "You do know that we're going to have to let her read the real ending to that story one day. The original ending. Nell won't put up with you changing it once she learns that that isn't the way the story really finishes."
Jacob looked shocked. "You mean there's an ending where the wolf doesn't triumph over those horrible, awful pigs, who just won't give him the shelter he's so politely asking for?"
His wife laughed. "Goof," she said as she rolled her eyes, hitting him across the shoulder.
"True," Jacob agreed, looking proud of that fact. Hermione shook her head, relaxing back against the pillows and enjoying the way her husband was trailing his fingers across the skin of her thigh left bare by her sleep shorts. She loved the way he touched her.
"So long day for you?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," the witch murmured, voice catching ever so slightly as Jacob's fingers inched just that little bit higher. Heat began to pool in her belly. The sight of his russet, work-roughened fingers running across her English, lily-white skin, and then slowly disappearing under her sleep shorts was bloody erotic.
"Tired then? Just wanna sleep?"
Her husband's voice was low and throaty, his dark gaze locked on her, his whole hand now firmly under the loose material of her shorts. Hermione's heart raced and she swallowed heavily, flicking her gaze down to the apex of Jacob's thighs, where his interest was making itself very well known.
Well, this certainly hadn't been the way she'd intended to spend time with him, but hell if she was going to complain.
"I think I could be c-convinced to stay awake for a w-while."
"Could you now?" Jacob murmured, a sexy little smirk heating his eyes, fingers still seeking, inching, higher, closer. So close. "Maybe this will help convince you, hmm?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip, a low moan escaping as he brushed against her, just the tips of his fingers trailing over her flesh. Her blood raged through her veins as he did it again and again, lightly teasing, never going any further. And fuck, did she need him to go further.
"Jacob," she whimpered, wiggling around, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them. "Please."
"Convinced yet?" he rumbled, brushing against her again, spreading the wetness that was steadily building the more he touched her. "I don't think you are."
"Oh, fuck, Jacob, I-I am!"
"Really? No, I don't think so. I think you need a little… more."
Hermione cried out, head falling back against the pillows as her husband abruptly pushed a single, blunt finger into her. She panted, desperately dragging in air, hips arching to meet the digit, hands clutching at the bedspread. The heat in her belly spread, beginning to build and pulse as he pumped the finger in and then pulled it out slowly before pushing it back in again. Her hips rose to meet the movements, sinking back down and rising in time with his actions. Fuck, the feeling was insane!
"What about now, Hermione?" Jacob asked, voice strained as he spoke through gritted teeth. His jeans shorts were tented at the front, showing that he was enjoying this as much as his wife was.
"Jacob…" she moaned, shifting anxiously, searchingly. It was good, it was so bloody good, but she needed more. So much more. Her hand left the bedspread and reached up on its own accord, rubbing over a peaked nipple, twisting and pulling it through her camisole. The jolt of pleasure shot straight down to her neglected clit, making it pulse all the more, and she moaned again, louder this time.
"Fuck, Hermione," Jacob breathed, eyes locked on her hand, his teasing forgotten as his wife played with her own nipples, hips still pumping as he fucked her with his fingers. "Christ, you're a sight to behold."
"Jake… a-ah! Oh, god! Jake, I need, I need…"
"What?" her husband growled, tugging at his zipper one-handed and palming his aching cock, hissing as he stroked himself. "Tell me what you need. This maybe?"
"Jake!" she cried as he finally pressed his thumb against her swollen clit, sending streaks of hot, heavy pleasure snapping through her. "Fuck!"
"Tell me!"
"You, you, I need you, Jacob, please, please!"
Jacob let out a rumbling snarl, pushed another finger into her and pumped, swirling his thumb over her clit at the same time. He stroked himself as Hermione whined, the heat in her belly building and coiling, getting closer and closer, so bloody close. Her hips flexed at a lightning speed as she stared blindly at the ceiling, mouth agape, sweat trickling down her forehead. Merlin, she was close, so, so close, just a bit more.
"Jake, I'm going to, god, Jacob, fuck, I'm going to…"
"Come?" Jacob hissed, the end falling off into a groan as he squeezed his cock, running his thumb over the weeping tip. "Go right ahead, baby, I won't be far b-behind... ugh!"
"Oh, shit!" Hermione whimpered, pinching her nipples, hips flying as the coil built and built and built. "Jacob, fuck, so close, I'm going to, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-"
A scream ripped through the house.
Both Hermione and Jacob were off the bed and out the door in a matter of seconds, flying down the hall to their daughter's room. They flung her door open and rushed to the bed, Hermione's wand that she couldn't even remember picking up in her hand. Eyes flicking around the room, the witch only calmed down once she established that there was no danger in the vicinity, that daughter wasn't being hurt or tortured or taken from her bed. Instead, the three-year-old girl was sitting up in bed and crying like the world had ended.
"Hey, hey, sweetie, what's wrong, love? Shh, shh, it's alright, Mummy's here, don't cry, my sweet darling, don't cry."
Hermione sat down on the bed and scooped her daughter up, pulling the distraught little girl into her lap and rocking her. Glanced worriedly at her husband, amusement briefly replaced her concern when she saw the state he was in, hanging out and still on display, though significantly deflated. She met his eyes and nodded down at his groin, Jacob frowning and followed her gaze, before quickly turning away with a muffled curse. Once he'd tucked himself away again, he sat down on the bed and both parents turned their attention to their daughter.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Hermione asked again, once the little girl had calmed a little. Her daughter looked up, big brown eyes filled with terrified tears, and began to babble about pigs eating wolves and daddy being the wolf and daddy getting eaten and daddy not being there anymore. It took a while to sort it out, but eventually Hermione and Jacob realized that she was talking about a dream.
Nell had had a nightmare.
And at a very unfortunate time.
Exchanging an amused glance with her husband, Hermione set about calming her daughter down further, telling her that of course daddy would never let himself be eaten by pigs, Jacob chiming in that he loved her, he loved mummy, and that he wasn't ever going anywhere. He then told her on no uncertain terms that three, silly little pigs would never triumph over a big, bad wolf like him. Hermione hid her smile against her daughter's silky, black curls.
An hour later, Nell was finally asleep again and Hermione and Jacob made their way back to their bedroom. Seeing the rumbled bedspread reminded the witch of exactly what they'd been doing before they'd been interrupted. Her blood began to heat once more.
"No more Three Little Pigs for a while, I think," Jacob sighed, sitting on the end of the bed and pulling off his shirt.
"I think that may be a good idea," Hermione agreed, head cocked as she admired the firm muscle of her husband's torso. Sweet Merlin, he was fit. "And you know what else is a good idea?"
"What?" Jacob asked, looking up and grunting when he suddenly found his lap full of warm, willing woman, slim, eager fingers plucking at the button of his shorts.
"That we pick up where we left off."
Jacob's eyes lit and he smirked, reaching for the hem of her camisole and pulling it off. "I do love how your mind works, Mrs Black."
"Is that the only thing you love about me, Mr Black?" Hermione panted, lifting her hips as Jacob tugged her shorts down and off.
"Oh, no, I love here-" he kissed her shoulder, "-and here-" he ran his tongue along her stomach, smirk widening as the muscles clenched in reaction, "-and I really love here," he said, drawing a nipple into his mouth and sucking lightly. His wife moaned, grinding against him, then whining in protest when he pulled away and grinned at her. "You know, I think I just love you altogether. Far too much."
Hermione gaze softened. "Believe me, my sexy wolf, the feeling's entirely mutual," she whispered, leaning in and taking his mouth in a deep kiss. He kissed her back, devouring her, and as they fell back on the bed to continue what their daughter had untimely interrupted, Hermione thought that if every long, exhausting day ended like this, then she might just deliberately seek out more of the difficult cases.
After all, her husband certainly enjoyed keeping her awake.