CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Summary: Hermione Granger, an accomplished witch is working a particularly trying case and is in need of help. Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish is a hellhound and just the one she needs. When a fiery witch and a fire-proof supernatural being work together, sparks are sure to fly and Hermione and the Deputy find that they need each other for more than one reason. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after The Wild Hunt but disregards everything afterwards, so there was no war between the supernatural and humans, there is no Monroe or Gerard and there are no hunters. At least for now! Also, Parrish is 23 and Hermione is 24. Oh, and I'm fudging the time line a bit, too. This will be written mostly in Parrish's POV.
Page count: 6
"You're wearing far too many clothes," Hermione spoke, drawing his attention and her gaze was so fiery and heated, he wondered if it were possible for her to set someone ablaze with her eyes alone.
An amused smiled pulled at his face as he moved to hover over her, his knees between her legs and his hands on either side of her head.
"And what are you going to do about it?" He questioned.
A frown of concentration appeared on her face and just as he was about to ask her what she was doing, her wand flew into the room and landed in her hand, and with a flick, the rest of his clothing suddenly disappeared, leaving him naked. He looked down at himself in surprise and then back to her glowing eyes in amusement.
"Wasn't expecting that," he chuckled.
She shrugged and dropped her wand, letting roll off the bed and onto the ground as she pulled him down to her and kissed him with so much hunger, so much passion and fire, he wondered if she were trying to burn him alive.
They shuffled slightly, moving up the bed until Hermione's head was resting on the pillows and he pulled back to look at her. Her hand came up to his face, her thumb softly running over his cheek and she stared into his amber eyes and he stared into hers.
"Who is this?" She asked.
Seeming to understand her question, he answered. "It's us, me. I'm me and he's me, too."
She stared at him for a little longer before nodding and pulling him back down to kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck and when he settled himself in the cradle of her thighs, she pushed at him and rolled him onto his back so she straddled him. She sat up slightly to look down at him and his hand came up to her hair, finding the clip and removing it so the rest of her hair fell down her back and spilled over her shoulders in messy, wild curls. He threw the clip to the floor and buried his hands in her hair, the soft strands getting tangled around his fingers.
"I much prefer your hair like this," he told her when she raised an eyebrow.
"You're the first," she replied, bending to place a chaste kiss to his mouth.
"Err, I don't have anything with me," he told her, looking a little embarrassed.
She looked confused until she understood his meaning and she chuckled at him, shaking her head lightly.
"I'm on the Contraception Potion; it's one hundred percent effective. There are different versions, but the one I'm on I only have to take once a month. Luckily for you, my last dose was due two days ago, so I'm good for a while."
He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged in response, before a worried look crossed her face.
"What it is?"
She worried at her lip with her teeth and with his hands still in her hair, he massaged her scalp.
"I don't want to hurt you," she admitted.
"You won't hurt me."
"My fire might, I'm sure you've noticed my body temperature and I know you've seen the holes I've burnt into the bedding. In situations like this, I've been known to actually burn people."
"Hermione, you're forgetting I have fire, too. I'm a hellhound, I'm fire-proof; you can't hurt me. I promise you won't hurt me."
She made to argue but he just pulled her down to kiss him, distracting her from her worries. She shuffled slightly and lifted her body off him so her hand could snake between them and she gripped the hardened length in her hot hand and he hissed against her mouth as she worked him over, learning quickly how he liked to be touched by listening and paying attention to his reactions.
"If you don't stop, this is all going to be over a lot sooner than the both of us would like," he warned.
She chuckled against his mouth before shifting slightly and positioning him at her entrance, and with their amber eyes locked on each other, she sank down onto him. She gasped as he stretched and filled her and her eyes closed against the sensation; it'd been years since her last partner. Parrish gritted his teeth as she squeezed him tightly, her hot, silken walls already fluttering around him.
They both knew neither of them were going to last long.
She forced her eyes to open and lock onto his and she brought her hands to rest on his chest, her nails curling into his skin slightly and he had both hands gripping at her hips as she set the pace and moved over him.
They kept their gazes locked, unable to look away from each other no matter how hard they tried. She could feel his grip tightening to the point of him leaving bruises and he could feel the fiery heat of her hands, and for a small second, he was able to look down at her hands, seeing the flames licking at her fingertips.
"I don't think I'm going to last much longer," she breathed out, her voice breathless and whispered.
"Thank God," he muttered.
He pushed himself until he was sitting up and they were face to face and she moved to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies flush against each other. Sweat glistened at their skin from their combined body temperatures and Hermione ducked her head to steal a consuming kiss.
Feeling her body heat up, he pulled back to the sight of her surrounded be dancing flames, from her hair right down to her toes, her eyes glowing impossibly bright and her skin flushed. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful and he wondered if this was what others saw when he was in hellhound form.
A sudden high pitched whine fell from Hermione's lips and her head tipped forwards as she gently sunk her teeth into his shoulder and her walls clenched around him tightly as she found her release, and with the tightness of her, with the softness of her body and the heat of the fire surrounding her, his own fire spread through his body until he felt the relief it brought as he found his end.
They held onto each other tightly in the silence of the room as they both regained their senses and breathing. A few minutes later they pulled back to look at each other, seeing that their eyes had returned to their normal colouring and Hermione was checking him for injuries caused by her fire, but all she saw was black soot marks in the shape of her hands.
"I told you," he muttered quietly, before lying on his back and pulling Hermione to lie against him, though she did shuffle so she was no longer draped over him, now she was half on him and half on the bed.
They laid in silence, Hermione listening to his heart beating steadily with her head on his chest and trailing patterns on his stomach with soft, caressing fingers, and Parrish trailing his fingers through her hair and the other hand tracing patterns on her thigh which was hooked over his hip.
"Can I ask you something?" He spoke first.
"Sure, doesn't mean I'll answer though."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Your past boyfriends, how were you able to... well..." He trailed off, not knowing how to phrase it.
"It was very difficult," she answered, seeing no point in making fun of him or lying to him either. "I had to be careful at all times, it was a lot easier if we were still clothed, without any skin to skin contact I couldn't hurt them. I learned that the hard way. My friend, Ron, he and I dated for a while," she spoke, surprising him. "After the war there were a lot of expectations for him and I to be together and get married and have curly redheaded children running around. When it came to losing my virginity to him, I almost scolded him. And every time after, I made sure we still had clothing on to act as a barrier, not that he cared, he hated looking at my scars," she said bitterly and he frowned.
"Whenever something would happen, I had to wipe his memory of it, he couldn't and can't be trusted with my secret. After almost a year, I couldn't take it anymore, he was always complaining and whining. He didn't like that I wanted to work, that I wanted to have a career and do some good in the world before I wanted children. Ronald has a very old fashioned view of the world, the men work and the women stay home and cook and clean and watch the children. It's what his mother did and it's what he wanted me to become. We had so many arguments over it," she sighed.
"I broke up with him. I wasn't happy and I couldn't be what he wanted me to be. It's why he's so cruel to me now, he believes that I embarrassed him in front of his family and Wizarding Europe. And honestly, the only person that cared we broke up was his mother, everyone else knew we weren't compatible. There's been two other wizards but neither of them lasted longer than a few months, I hurt them both and after healing them and wiping their memories of my fire burning them, I've pretty much been celibate for the last three years. No one's been able to handle my fire, no one but you."
She looked up at him to see he had a thoughtful look on his face.
"What are you thinking about?" She queried.
"That I don't know you all that well," he answered.
She raised an eyebrow before shifting away from him and turning on her side and feeling her do so, he turned on his side to face her.
"You think you don't know me? Jordan," she caught his attention as his name fell from her lips and he looked into her eyes. "You know me more intimately than anyone ever has after what's just happened between us. You are the only person I can be myself with. I don't have to hide who I am, I don't have to control myself, I don't have to worry about hurting you with my fire. You know me better than anyone because you know who I really am. Not Hermione Granger the witch, but Hermione Granger, the phoenix. You understand me like no one else can. Harry is my best friend and little brother in everything but blood and has been for over a decade, and you know me better than he does."
His mouth twitched and he raised his hand to push her hair out of her face, before cupping her cheek, his thumb swiping across her cheek bone.
"It's been a few weeks since we met each other, but I bet you know more about me than you realise. What's my favourite colour?"
"Navy blue," he answered without thought. "You tend to wear it the most and it's the colour scheme of your room," he said, his eyes looking to the navy blue walls.
"It is, and I know yours to be red," she replied.
"How do you know that?" He questioned in surprise.
She smiled and shrugged. "You always choose the red mug from the kitchen cupboard when making coffee, and when using my ink and quills, you always choose the red ink over the blue."
He frowned, not realising he did those things.
"What's my preferred drink?"
"Coffee in the morning and through the day and tea in the evening, sometimes fire whiskey or a glass of milk," he answered knowingly.
She smiled at him. "You prefer coffee all day every day, water and you've grown accustomed to fire whiskey. What's my favourite food or snack?"
"You seem to have a liking for lasagne as Kara brings you it for lunch more often than not, and as for snacks, you eat a lot of candy," he said amused.
"My parents were dentists, they never let me have candy as a child," she shrugged, surprising him with her answer.
He hadn't known her parents were dentists, but then he hadn't really heard her speak of her parents before. He wondered why that was, but he wouldn't push the subject now.
"And I know your favourite food is a tossup between the macaroni and cheese you made for me and cheese burgers, and you like chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. As for snacks, I find it ironic that you love donuts so much."
He snorted at her and shrugged. "They're my weakness."
"So I've seen," she rolled her eyes. "You think that we don't know a lot about each other, when in reality, we've barely been apart these last few weeks and as a result, we've grown used to each other's habits, mannerisms and behaviours. We observe things we don't realise have any importance until we need that information to answer a question, as we've just proved. And like I said, we've only known each other a few weeks. You were worried that we hadn't been on a date, yet people go on dates to spend time together and get to know each other, we do that every hour of every day."
"I suppose you're right," he mused.
"Of course I am, I'm always right."
She turned away from him and onto her back, stretching her arms above her head languidly and groaning in satisfaction when her muscles pulled and something in her back clicked and she sagged back into the mattress. Turning back towards him, she noticed his eyes trailing the scars on her body.
"Ask me, I know you're curious."
His eyes moved up to hers, a guilty smile crossed his face.
"You're beautiful, with or without scars," he said truthfully and a faint blush covered her cheeks at his words, pulling a smile from him. "Will you tell me how you got them?" He asked, his fingers moving to trace the largest scar on her torso.
"When I was tortured, Harry and Ron came to rescue me, I was held with a knife against my throat." She pointed to the thin scar on her throat. "During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, I was fifteen when I was hit by a dark curse that almost killed me." She gestured to the scar his fingers were softly caressing. "When it was just Harry and I on the run, we walked into a trap and I was forced to jump out of a two story window, I landed on the shards of glass." She gestured to the small collection of scars by her hip. "The bite on my thigh is from the werewolf and you know how I got the scar on my arm," she shrugged.
"You are the strongest, bravest person I've ever met," he muttered.
"There's plenty of people that are stronger and braver," she brushed off his comment, before her own hand moved to trail his chest. "So, you wanna go again?" He raised an amused eyebrow. "What? I've been sexually deprived for the better part of three years."
He snorted at her before pulling her closer and stealing a kiss.