#{ jacob }

[katrasining]

Till sunbae's old movie partner 👀

[whor3ing]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 | 𝐉.𝐁

▶︎ ၊၊||၊ FADE INTO YOU , MAZZY STAR

jacob black! x fem!reader — word count : 1.5k

requested by : anon ꨄ︎

WARNINGS : smut, praise, riding, kinda size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, established relationship, stomach bulge, creampie

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+

The bedroom is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the porch light bleeding through the open window. A lazy breeze drags through the space, not nearly enough to cool the heat you’re both tangled up in. The sheets are kicked down, twisted around your ankles, and Jacob’s skin is burning hot—just like always.

He’s on top of you, braced on his forearms, hips rolling into yours in a rhythm that feels carved from instinct. His cock stretches you open, thick and deep, hitting all the right places like he’s trying to mold you around him. And maybe he is.

You’ve been like this for what feels like hours—slow, steady, devastating. Every thrust forces a breath from your lungs, his mouth hovering over your jaw, lips brushing just enough to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” he grits out, low and already wrecked, voice hoarse from holding back. “You take me so good, baby.”

His words vibrate against your throat. One hand comes up to press against your ribs, fingers spread wide, like he’s trying to feel every single gasp you let out, like he's trying to feel where his cock presses up inside of you.

You dig your nails into his back, feel the tremble in him—like he’s working so hard to keep control. It’s sweet. Almost. Except you know exactly how dangerous he is when he breaks.

Your voice is small, breathy, completely sincere when you say it:

“You fuck me like you were made for me.”

Jacob freezes.

It’s just for a second—but everything about him stills. His hips falter. The muscles in his arms stiffen. And then his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale, chest pressing to yours.

“What—” he rasps, lifting his head up from your chest to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, jaw tight, mouth parted like he’s fighting for air. “What did you just say?”

You blink up at him, heart thudding. “I said… you fuck me like you were made for me.”

And that’s it.

That’s the edge.

Jacob curses low, something between a groan and a growl, and pulls out too fast, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness. But he’s already moving—already hauling you up into his lap like he can’t take one more second without your skin on his.

“On top,” he mutters, guiding you with rough hands. “I need you on top. Now.”

You scramble to straddle him, thighs bracketing his hips, your soaked pussy brushing the head of his cock. His grip is bruising on your waist, and his voice is nearly desperate.

“You say shit like that,” he grits out, “and expect me to stay in control?”

You reach between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, sinking down slow until he’s fully inside you again, his cock so deep in you it feels like it's brushing your ribs. You both gasp—Jacob’s head dropping to your shoulder as he whimpers low, his hands sliding to your hips like he needs to steady himself.

“You were made for me,” you whisper again, just to see what it does to him.

He lets out a filthy groan that sounds torn from his chest. His head snaps up—eyes wild now, something close to feral burning in them. One hand fists in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, while the other grips your ass like he’s daring it to move.

“You like ridin’ me, baby?” he growls, thrusting up into you suddenly, making you jolt and moan. “Feelin’ this fat cock stretchin’ you open?”

“Yes,” you gasp, hands on his shoulders, using him for balance. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good, Jake.”

“That’s right,” he snarls, snapping his hips again. “Say it louder.”

“You feel so good!”

“You like it like this, huh? Stuffed full of me while you bounce like a fuckin’ toy?” He slaps your ass once, hard, the crack of skin on skin making you clench around him. “Such a tight little pussy, and it’s all mine.”

You whimper, rolling your hips down against his, and he groans again, fucking up into you harder now, like he’s forgotten the point was for you to ride him.

“Too fuckin’ good,” he pants, face buried in your neck, breath scorching hot. “You keep squeezin’ me with this fuckin' cunt like that and I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it—shit—you were made for me, weren’t you?”

You nod, nails digging into his shoulders.

“All yours, Jake. Always.”

That breaks him.

His arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you—slams you back down onto his cock with a bruising grip.

“Mine,” he growls. “Mine, mine, mine—fuck, baby, you feel that?”

You nod frantically, breathless, every bounce making your vision blur.

“I feel it—I feel you everywhere—”

“That’s right,” he pants, voice rough with pure lust. “Can’t get away from it. You’ll feel me for days. Gonna ruin this pussy—stretch it until it only fits me.”

You cry out as your orgasm hits hard, crashing through you like a wave. Your body shakes, folds clenching around him as he growls and fucks you through it, relentless, brutal, desperate to finish.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—shit—gonna fill you up, baby, don’t stop—ride it out—take it—”

You do.

You keep moving even when your body’s trembling, thighs shaking, muscles weak, letting him chase his high.

And when he finds it—when he buries himself deep and lets out the loudest, filthiest moan you’ve ever heard—you feel everything.

The heat. The pulse. The way his whole body tenses underneath you as he cums, thick and hot, spilling into you like he’s trying to breed you on instinct alone.

It takes a full minute for the room to settle again.

You’re slumped against his chest, sweaty and sticky, his arms still wrapped tight around you. His breath is shallow, lips brushing your temple.

Then, soft. Wrecked.

“You can’t say shit like that to me,” he mutters.

You giggle, lifting your head.

“Say what?”

His eyes find yours—stormy and soft all at once.

“That I was made for you.”

You smile, brushing sweat-damp curls off his forehead.

“Well,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were.”

And the way his arms tighten around you again?

That tells you everything.

𖧧 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

🖇 - @obsessivekniss I know u wanna read this

new jacob black (size kink fic hereeee !!

[389]

Jacob Wrestling With The Angel (1865) by Alexandre Louis Leloir

[afandommultiverse]

General HC’s for Jacob Alpha Black

⋆.ೃ࿔ A/n - so this definitely took longer then expected and I apologize, but I had an unfortunate loss over the 4th of July weekend, not that any of yall care but I’m here to tell you:

write that fic, join that fandom, and above all, live without hesitation—time isn’t guaranteed.

⋆.ೃ࿔ Warnings - some NSFW HC’s at the bottom <3

⋆.ೃ࿔ WC - 1.3K

P.S. - this is for @sapphic-seraphim222 (ty for interacting with my first twilight hcs, it meant a lot<33!!

⋆.ೃ࿔ :･°‧ ⛰︎ ˖*༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔

⛰︎ So warm

⛰︎ That’s the first thing you notice about Jacob: this insane heat he has rolling off of him, even before the first phase. He was always warm, the underlying genetics always lingering along with those that came with evolution. After his phase, it became more than just an underlying heat; it has a way of flowing out like it was boiling over, begging to encompass others.

⛰︎ On the hotter days in Forks, you could almost see it, rolling off, blurring and glistening, like watching heat rise from a long paved road. On cooler days, like most days, it was most welcoming to him and those around him. 

⛰︎ I’m serious, he is a literal space heater—if you are in a small room (or tent ;), after sometime, the room will get noticeably warmer, especially if there is no airflow/breeze coming through.

⛰︎ He doesn’t always notice it, but others do. You’ll catch people subtly leaning closer to him without realizing, soaking it in like sunlight.

⛰︎ While he had always been awkward-ish as a kid and as a teenager, growing up on the rez meant he still had to speak and know everyone, especially being the son of a tribe elder. So he is sociable, a little mischievous when comfortable, and a total know-it-all, both funnily and irritatingly.

⛰︎ If you just give him the time of day, and he’ll get you to smile, chuckle, and have you laughing hard within an hour. 

⛰︎ But he still has his moments, his fumbles, and his ultimate apologetic, cheeky smiles. He’ll tell a dumb joke with too much confidence, stumble over his words, then laugh it off in a way that makes you laugh too. He charms easily without even trying—because it’s real. He’s not putting on a show, just being.

⛰︎ Of course he’s very handy, always tinkering with something, metal or otherwise. It’s calming to him; he can press pause on his brain and just lock into something that creates silence. He’ll spend hours working on an old motorbike, or a rusted part, with music playing softly in the background, sleeves pushed up and grease on his fingers.

⛰︎ It’s his favorite kind of alone time—quiet and productive.

⛰︎ It was hard when he phased for the first time. Everyone was so loud in the hive mind, it was hard to have a quiet head without running hundreds of miles away, and even then, he could still hear distant whispers licking at his ears.

⛰︎ But being able to have something to lock into, it helped a lot, and made the voices quieter without having to go so far. It was nice, and he’d find himself too often in his garage, working on something, anything.

⛰︎ He won’t say it out loud, but it kept him sane. Some nights, it was the only thing that helped.

⛰︎ Especially when he is thinking a lot—hurtful things, and sometimes things that just happen—he was tired from the back and forth with Bella, and it’s easy to just drive into something (besides you ;) ). He’s not great at talking about his feelings, but you can tell when he’s hurting. 

⛰︎ He gets quiet. Withdrawn. Doesn’t meet your eyes. And that’s usually when you’ll find him covered in metal shavings and oil, too deep in his distraction to answer the phone.

⛰︎ But he can also appreciate a good hunt. 

⛰︎ Even before his phasing, he liked to hunt—not in a sadistic way, he always thanked the animal, regardless of what they were, for being here and giving him sustenance, especially for his loved ones and pack members. It's just another thing he can focus on when things get crazy. It brings him a certain grounding—there’s no noise, no pressure, just instinct, silence, and respect. 

⛰︎ He always buries something. Always gives appreciation.

⛰︎ After his sisters left, he often found himself being alone a lot. He always had his dad and his friends, sure, but it was common that he found himself alone at times and… it didn’t bother him too much. ⛰︎ He liked being alone. It gave him space to breathe, to think, to just be. But as he got older, that loneliness started to feel heavier, like something was missing. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but the ache was there. Always.

⛰︎ Loves a good campfire. The fire always brings a strange comfort—warmth on the outside and a way to fight the cold on the inside.

⛰︎ When it's not too wet or rainy outside, he stacks up some wood from the garage and starts a bonfire with some leaves and old shrubs. Sometimes his dad is with him, sometimes some pack members, and sometimes it's just him. He doesn’t seem to mind either way, although the yearning for that someone to be with him is always there, yipping in the back of his head like a wounded puppy.

⛰︎ He’s usually seen in just shorts when on patrol, but when keeping appearances and occasional outings, you’ll find him in tight-fitting jeans and t-shirts, maybe a jacket or flannel here and there, but not too often.

⛰︎ He finds he gets too hot in places where the heater is turned up—literally will start sweating, dare I say he gets a tickle in his tongue to pant.

⛰︎ Even when he showers up to go outside into society, he somehow still smells like pine needles, cedar, and something like firewood. People notice.

⛰︎ When he is caught inside like this, he’ll take a moment to stand outside in the rain/fog just to breathe. Someone might ask if he’s cold, and he’ll blink like they just asked if the sky was green.

⛰︎ “Nah,” he’ll shrug, cheeks pink but completely unbothered. “It feels nice.”

⛰︎ And it’s not even to look cool—he genuinely prefers it, especially after phasing. Too much heat made him restless, makes his skin itch in a way he can’t explain. He’s most at ease when the air bites a little, when everything is crisp and quiet. 

⋆.ೃ࿔ :･°‧ NSFW HC’s ˖*༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔

⛰︎ He’s got big, calloused hands from building bikes and fixing cars—rough, strong, and capable—but the way he touches you is the softest thing in the world. He trails them slowly over your skin like he’s memorizing every curve, brushing your hair away so he can kiss that spot behind your ear. 

⛰︎ There’s a delicious contrast in how strong he is and how tenderly he handles you. His grip on your hips might bruise, but the way he brushes your hair from your face as he rocks into you is gentle enough to make you tear up.

⛰︎ He grips your thighs like he owns them—but always looks at you like you own him.

⛰︎ “You okay?” he whispers, voice shaking. “Need me to slow down?”—even when you’re already crying his name.

⛰︎ His voice drops an octave when he’s turned on—gruff, husky, and something dangerous. Sometimes it’s just a low, “You sure?” in your ear. Other times, he mutters in Quileute under his breath, growling your name as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it half the time—it’s the wolf in him, the instinct to claim.

⛰︎ Sex with Jacob isn’t just physical—it’s emotional. He touches you like you’re precious, looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real. He’ll start slow, tease you for minutes with just fingers and lips, whispering the sweetest things in your ear. 

⛰︎ When he’s been gone for even a day—pack business, errands, whatever—he comes back needing to feel you. He lifts you, walks you to the nearest surface, and kisses you like he’s starving.

⛰︎ Sometimes when he just phases back, all his emotions are raw. He can’t stop pacing, his body twitching from leftover adrenaline. The only thing that grounds him is you. The way you soothe him. The way your body calms him.

⛰︎ He doesn’t even undress you—just kisses you, needy and rough, like you’re the only thing keeping him human.

⛰︎ But once the tension snaps and the haze clears, he turns into the softest man alive. He’ll hold you for hours, pressing kisses to your temple, whispering, “You okay, baby?” over and over. He’ll wipe you down gently, help you into comfy clothes, and get water without you even asking.

⛰︎ Then he pulls you against his chest and tucks your legs over his, murmuring a sleepy “I love you.”  into your hair until you both doze off.

⋆.ೃ࿔ :･°‧ ⛰︎ ˖*༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔

⋆.ೃ࿔ A/n - if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! make sure to leave a like and/or comment and lmk what you would like to read, requests are always open! <3

[tomdayalandmedia]

They've been creative with the promo. 😆

[dimension20daily]

Did you see the beaches?

Dimension 20: Gladlands Episode 1 "Welcome to the Wastes"

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

Did you know Twilight was getting an animated series on Netflix? Anyway, I had to make my own take on character designs for an animated show