Teen Wolf Imagines\preferences

Jordan Parrish

You still couldn't figure out what Jordan was, supernatural wise. You and Lydia had been researching for weeks and the closet thing you two had found was that he was either a man-eating Phoenix or a pyromaniac you sleepwalked. Both of them were long shots and likely not at all what Jordan was.

Lydia had explained Jordan's reoccurring nightmare about carrying a body into forest. Something made it feel like he wasn't giving you the whole story though. So it was your turn to probe him for answers.

With the dread doctors nearing, no one was safe as long as they were in Beacon Hills and you didn't really want to run into Parrish in the woods in case his dream wasn't actually a dream. You considered a stakeout at the Nemeton, but beings he could survive being  burned alive--you weren't take any chances.

You were currently sat on Parrish's desk in the Sheriff Station, riffling through official papers and manila documents. You heard the door knob to the room then you quickly hopped off and shoved the confidential papers back into the mahogany desk.

Jordan tilted his head, looking at you with a startled expression on his face. You guys weren't exactly the closest of friends. You'd been with the pack when he came to Derek for help, but other than circumstances similar to those, you'd never really talked to him.

"I'm friends with Lydia. I'm Y/N," you blurted, heat rising to your cheeks thereafter. He seemed to soften at that statement and cautiously wandered over to his desk, turning the computer off.

"Can I help you?" He wondered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You told Lydia about a dream? Do you remember anything else that happened?" You encroached, scaling the length of the room with timorous eyes. He bristled, easing into the chair behind his desk.

"I was carrying a body to that old tree-" You cut him off. "Nemeton." You received a narrowed glare from the deputy.

"I was carrying a body to the nemeton and then, I noticed everything was just on fire," he panted, just growing warm at the recollection. Parrish ran a hand over his forehead quickly and nervously.

"You survived being burned alive. Honestly, I think your power has to be associated with the heat elemental," You informed him, peering over his shoulder at the black screen of his computer. "Would you mind?"

He was to polite to say anything out loud, but you heard him say skim egging under his breath. He hoisted himself up from the seat, allowing me to sit down as you pressed buttons and started a Google search. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, jamming away as you visited a few different mythology sites. The searches yielded generic results. Scott had already read through the Bestiary thoroughly.

No one else could help us. A prolonged sigh breaching your lips as you disengaged yourself from the flashing article of fire apparitions--which you were positive he was not.

"You don't have to research anything, Y/N," Parrish interjected, a little sadly. You felt bad for him. The poor guy didn't even know what was happening. All anyone knew about this was that someone was taking the bodies of fallen Chimeras, but no one knew exactly who it was. Could it be possible that the correlation between Parrish's dream and reality wasn't so hypothetical?

"Yes I do. The pack and I really care. We're trying to help," you explained, wetting your slightly chapped lips. He closed the distance between you two, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm grateful, really. But maybe it just takes time to surface," he suggested, shaking my shoulders like a big brother would do to a little sister. You forced a smile, but it didn't reach as far as usual.

He straightened, sliding his calloused fingers down your arm until he brushed the end of your fingers. "Tell Lydia I'm fine. Thanks for stopping by, Y/N.

***************

It had been a few weeks and it felt like the pack was falling apart at an even faster pace. There were still no leads on Parrish's case. You'd gone to the school library so many times that the librarian had banned you from checking out books for the rest of the year. You knew what you needed to do. For your friends.

This time, after shoving your way past officers and deputies scuffling outside his door, you barged into his office, letting the edge of the rosewood door slam me in the leg accidentally. So much for that dramatic entrance.

Parrish's head perked up from the computer, looking exhausted. His khaki uniform was stained with leftover food, his hat disheveled around his face--which by the way still look flawless with deep bags under his dreary eyes.

You cringed slightly. "I'm sorry, Jordan. I know I said I wouldn't bother you anymore, but I have an idea. If I can see you abilities in action, than maybe we can figure out what you are," you recited, placing your hands on your hips with pride.

Surprisingly, he wasn't resistance or reprimanding. You sat across his desk, while he took the opposite side, and you made him hold out his hand. You fished the lighter out of your flannel and he reeled back, scrunching his face up.

"It's okay," you cooed, your hand open for his. "You can trust me."

He hesitantly surrendered his hand once again. You faced his palm towards the desk as you flicked the lighter on, watching as the orange flame bobbed and licked the thick skin of his hand. Your breath was caught in your throat. It was amazing. He wasn't even flinching. His eyes trailed past you, getting a distant gleam in them.

His flesh began to smoke and you immediately shut the cap, backpedaling. He shook his hand out and the area where you held the lighter was charred, but it hadn't marred the skin. The black scorch gradually faded.

"What was that supposed to prove?" He snapped, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Sorry, I thought it would work." Jordan walked closer, eclipsing you with his height. He gently pushed you against the wall, pressing his lips softly to yours.

It was like your heart of passion and his heart of fire were merging. It felt right. He smelled of cologne, ash, and pinewood. You felt safe with him.