Chapter Text
What about an extreme lust fic? Where Jacob is in "heat"? or Bella drinks some aphrodesiac, while Jacob has no choice but to give in?
[set during Eclipse. Romance/Humor. NC-17.]
Jasper was, quite frankly, completely sick of this shit.
He knew exactly what was going on up there in Edward's room - the same thing that went on almost every day, now. The angst bleeding down through the floorboards into the living room was overwhelming his emotional radar. If he closed his eyes, he could see it: the purple-green of Bella's self-doubt, the spikey orange of Edward's agitation, and underneath it all the constantly pulsating red of lust. And even if Jasper couldn't read emotions, he'd know what was going on, because Alice was constantly talking to him about it. "Ooh, I think today they might finally... no, Edward decided not to again. Should I give Bella some lacy underwear, Jazz? That will help." (On the plus side, Alice seemed to be getting off on this voyeristic trip into Edward and Bella's potential futures, and Jasper had gotten some of the best sex of his unlife as a result.)
But no, no, it was definitely time for this to end. Those kids needed to just fuck and get it over with, and then Jasper could finally have some peace and quiet.
He concentrated quickly. Pushing Edward was a bad idea, because there was the genuine risk that he'd snap and drain Bella dry, which everyone seemed to agree was a bad idea. (It didn't make all that much difference to Jasper either way, frankly, but Alice would never forgive him and that was unacceptable.) Bella, on the other hand, would be easy. With just a little twinge of pressure she'd probably get over the shyness and the coy euphamisms and simply rip Edward's pants off, and then the problem would be solved. Edward was a cold fish, but even he had limits to his self-control.
So it would be Bella. Jasper closed his eyes, thought about what was happening in the bedroom over his head, traced that pulsating red line that threaded through the girl's body, and then yanked on it. Hard.
The change was instantaneous. Edward remained the same, but everything instantly dropped out of Bella - the angst, the worry, the self-doubt, even the obsessive devotion. It all disappeared under a wave of crimson. Perfect.
Except... as the minutes ticked by, instead of Edward's passion increasing, there was more agitation. Well, that was to be expected, right? He wouldn't instantly- then a snap of convoluted emotion so strong that Jasper winced, and voices, and he heard Bella thundering down the stairs and out the front door, while Edward remained in his room, gray grief subsuming the whole damn house.
Alice ran into the living room. "Jazz, what did you do? You won't believe the future I just saw!"
It was hard to surprise Jacob Black these days - his life was a pretty strange one, after all - but when he opened his front door, he was surprised. He was surprised by Bella's face (cheeks flushed, eyes glassy), and her body (slender ribcage heaving for breath), and her smell (something different, something he couldn't identify immediately). Mostly, though, he was surprised by her words.
"Hi, Jake," she said. "I need you to fuck me."
Jacob blinked. "I- what?"
"I'm not kidding," she said, pushing past him (she felt stronger, somehow, and he was so shocked he could have been knocked over by a light breeze) and sitting on the edge of his ratty couch. "Your dad's at my house, right? Watching the game?"
"Yeah."
"Good." And Bella stripped off her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her whole body was as flushed as her face, from her (slender) neck to her (perfect) breasts to her (smooth) stomach. She frowned at him. "Why are you wearing a shirt? You never wear a shirt! Stop wearing a shirt, right now!"
"Uh, Bells," he said, raising his hands, trying to tear his eyes away from her exposed skin, "did you hit your head again?"
"No, I didn't. I just... goddammit, Jake-" (was this his Bells talking?) "-what part of fuck me are you not getting?"
Oh, he was getting it, all right. If she kept talking like this he was going to blow his wad without ever taking off his pants. "Seriously, Bella," he grasped for some sense of composure, backing away as she strode toward him, "this isn't you. This isn't you at all." Now she was kicking off her shoes, unbuttoning her jeans. His back knocked into the wall. "And, hey, shouldn't you be at your leech's house, if you want it so bad?"
There. Bitterness cooled him for a moment, cleared his head.
It lasted all of two seconds.
Then Bella grabbed his wrist and shoved it into her panties, and his fingers slipped over warmth and silky wetness and unbelievable heat. "I'm hot," she said hoarsely, squeezing his wrist, pushing herself against him. "And I want to be hotter. I don't want cold. I don't want to be cold." She leaned her forehead against his chest, and his index finger slipped inside her without effort. "Please, Jake. I'm on fire. Please."
He wasn't made of stone.
They stumbled forward until Bella sat on the arm of the couch, yanking her jeans off, Jacob fumbling with his pants until his erection was free. He'd imagined making love to Bella a million times, every night, and he'd thought in every possible variation. This was not one of the scenarios. He'd thought that he'd at least get to kiss her once before getting her naked, but it was not to be. She grabbed his cock - a little too hard, and he winced - lined him up at her entrance, hooked her ankles over his hips and forced him into her in one firm thrust.
They both groaned, and Jacob tried to think of anything, anything at all that would keep him from coming instantly - oh, wait, shouldn't he be asking about her? "Bells? Are you all right? Does it hurt?"
"No," she said, eyes squeezed closed. "It's perfect. Move, will you?"
He thrust once, twice, three times, then he lost count, his hand at the small of her back to keep her from falling backwards, trying not to hear her moans or the wet noises their bodies were making, trying to do math problems in his head - that worked, right? - anything to keep this going... But , thank God, within thirty seconds Bella was writhing against him and gasping and he seriously hoped that those hot clenches around his cock were what he thought they were because it was definitely all over now and he spurted into her and they fell backward onto the couch and he was pretty sure he was dead because nothing could feel this good on earth.
And he hadn't even gotten his shirt off.
"Ow," Bella said from underneath him.
"Oops. Sorry." Jacob lifted himself up, still hovering over her, but at least giving her enough room to breath. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just... ow." She looked up at him and, oh, good, that glassy look was gone, and she looked a lot more like Bella again. Kind of. A messy, naked Bella, anyway. "How about you?"
"Never better," he answered honestly. "But, um, I admit, I'm kind of curious about what this is all about."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Me too, actually. I didn't feel like myself at all." His heart stopped for a moment, and he prepared himself for her to squirm away from him and run out the door. But instead, she gave him a brilliant smile. "But, you know what? I don't care. Can we do that again?"
Jacob was definitely sure he was dead, and he really didn't care.
(And, for the record, after that vision, Alice and Jasper fucked all night.)