REQUESTED JORDAN PARRISH IMAGINE: Imagine Jordan talking dirty to you.

Your boyfriend usually had this do-good boy scout manner, and here he was, explicitly telling you how much he wanted to fuck you. It was 5:53, and Jordan’s shift was over at 6 o’clock. You were sitting on top of Jordan’s desk in the police station, and his hands were sliding up and down your thighs in a way that actually seemed innocent when compared to the words he was speaking. His lips were close to your ear, and he would nibble at your earlobe every so often. “I am going to fuck you,” he whispered huskily, “so hard… that you can’t even remember your own name.” Parrish’s finger slid through the rips in your jeans at the thighs. “You’ll scream underneath me… I’ll leave you begging for more, sweetheart” Your eyes widened with intrigue as Jordan pulled you onto his lap firmly, right on top of that noticeable bulge in his police uniform. “It’s ok, the only other person here is  over at the front desk or… obsessively eating donuts in the break room. Everybody else is out catching some exciting thief for the bounty money. Hmmm… Maybe I should have done that. We need a new dishwasher,” You shook your head at Jordan, who was regaining his morality faster and faster, “Jordan I don’t want a dishwasher. I want you.” He smirked at you. “You want… me?” You nodded, “Say more nice things,” you kissed him wetly and locked your arms around his neck. “Nice things? Like… You have pretty hair? You make great coffee? Ok, will do.” He teased. “No,” you whined, “You know what I mean,” “Tell me then, sweetheart, tell me what you want from me,” Parrish grinned slyly. “Fuck, Jordan. I want you to talk dirty to me.” You whispered. He tilted his head thoughtfully: “I don’t know…” You grabbed his radio, “Jordan Parrish, please, please will you talk-” Jordan wrestled the radio out of your hands. “Shit!” He regained enough composure to say into the radio, “My apologies, everyone, go back to your work. Disregard this incident.” “Parrish, everything ok?” “Perfect.” “Are you sure?” “Go back to work, officer.” Parrish had a note of impatience in his voice, and it turned you one, truth be told. “You,” he glared, “could have gotten me in trouble. I’ll have to punish you,” You rocked your hips into him smugly, feeling his own hips jolt upward instinctively. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hissed. Jordan’s eyes flashed orange, like a blazing fire.  of his hand slid into your jeans, his talented fingers making you arch into him instantly. With the other hand, he cupped your face and kissed you forcefully. Jordan’s skin burned into yours slightly everywhere you touched. “Let’s go home, Y/N. Seems I have a lot of… work… to do.”