This is the Dream

WARNING: This work contains explicit sexual content and detailed sexual encounters/acts. If you aren't into reading that, don't read this.

*Originally Posted to AO3.


It's been one year. One year myself and the peculiar children have been living in Florida— imagine that, living. Living happily ever after in a big house, together.

"Jake, little help over here," Enoch says, attempting to move around the furniture in the room the boys had been assigned to sleep in when we all first moved in.

Miss Peregrine insisted I keep my bedroom to myself, which I did, if only to appease her. Millard, Enoch, Hugh and Horace are in one room, Emma, Bronwyn, Claire and Olive are in another and Miss Peregrine, of course, has her own.

For whatever reason, Enoch wasn't content with the configuration of the beds, so he is moving things around and, quite apparently, requires my assistance.

I help him move damn near the whole room around— twice—before he settles on a configuration that works for him.

"Children! Supper is ready!" Miss Peregrine calls, making all of the children drop what they're doing in favor of food.

Just as I'm leaving the boys' room, I rake my hands through my hair, hoping I'll be able to catch a shower after dinner before everyone else uses up the hot water. As I'm thinking about this nice, hot shower I plan to have, my shoulder checks something firm—Emma.

Emma and I decided to take this relationship slow. We're together, I guess, in the usual terms that we don't see other people, but hell, I haven't even kissed her in about a month. We've both been busy keeping everyone else sane that we haven't had much time together. But one thing is for sure— I love Emma Bloom, and seeing her now may or may not be making my heart skip beats.

"Emma!" I shriek, reaching my arm out to her. "I'm sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going."

The rest of the children shuffle down the stairs, paying almost no mind to Emma and I, for which, I'm thankful. Even two minutes alone with her is better than none.

"Jacob, it's quite alright. Don't apologize," she smiles, and what a beautiful smile it is.

My hand is still on her arm, her skin like fire— pun intended— on mine. This girl lights up my life and I hadn't realized how much I missed her until just this minute.

Emma looks up at me, hesitantly reaching out to place a hand on my chest.

"I missed you," Emma whispers, her fingers curling and uncurling in my shirt, as if she's trying to make sure I'm really here.

Not that I blame her, of course— I almost wasn't here. But we don't talk about that.

"I missed you too," I say back, my other hand sliding slowly down her side, coming to rest on her hip.

Emma's lips quirk as her body unconsciously moves closer to mine.

I can't help but want to kiss this beautiful girl in front of me, but we haven't done that in what feels like forever. We may not have to start over completely, but taking this slow might be the better option than jumping right back on the horse.

"Emma, I—" I start to say but am cut off by Miss Peregrine calling for Emma and I.

"Miss Bloom, Mr. Portman, supper!"

I squeeze lightly on Emma's hip, laughing lightly at Miss Peregrine, before releasing Emma, walking beside her downstairs.


Supper went by as calmly as ever, my parents even grunting in acknowledgement when Miss Peregrine spoke to them— which is a vast improvement on the last few months.

Over dinner, Emma and I continued to make eyes at each other, silently agreeing to find somewhere alone after dinner, which is how I find myself waiting on her in the back yard watching the sun set, clouds of orange and pink and purple floating across the sky.

"Jacob?"

Emma's footsteps are quiet as she comes up beside me.

I'm standing beside a hammock my parents set up in the backyard several years ago, thinking maybe Emma and I could lay out here and talk— preferably about us, but really, I'd settle just to hear her voice.

I take a seat on the hammock, balancing it as Emma sits down beside me, stretching her legs out to balance her side of the hammock so I could lay next to her.

"I believe you had been trying to tell me something before supper?" Emma says, a knowing twinge in her voice.

This girl knows full-well what I intended to say to her.

"Emma Bloom, I love you," I tell her, laying on my side so I can look at her.

"I love you, Jacob Portman," Emma replies, resting her hand on my cheek and I can't tell if it's the fire in her that's heating up my cheek or if I'm blushing, but either way, I couldn't care. Emma Bloom is lying next to me and that's all my mind can focus on.

"Emma, I just want you to know that I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere. And that I love you."

Emma's eyes flutter closed and she slides closer to me on the hammock, our bodies touching now from head to toe. And I know that the way my body heats up and tingles all over isn't from Emma's fire this time.

"Emma…," I trail off, hoping she'll catch my meaning.

I want to kiss her— I need to kiss her. I need to feel her. I'm touching her, but it's not enough. I need her.

Emma doesn't say anything back, but the way she leans in toward me, tilting her head up to look at me— I take that as permission.

I lean into her. I wrap my arm around her waist, using the other arm to still hold myself up and balance the hammock. I pull her in.

She guides her fingers through my hair, resting it on the back of my neck as we continue to lean in.

And then suddenly I'm kissing her. My lips are on hers, and our bodies are held tight together.

Just when I'm expecting her to pull back, she doesn't. She opens her mouth— just a little bit— and kisses me again.

My fingers ball into the back of her shirt. My heart's beating a mile a minute and I'm kissing this insane girl.

Emma's kissing me like her life depends on it. She's gripping tightly onto the back of my neck and her breaths are coming in pants. And my goodness, if that's not kicking my teenage boy hormones into overdrive.

I'm hard enough to pound nails and I can't help it. I hope like hell she can't feel it because we're not there yet. We're not at that point in our relationship. We're supposed to be taking it slow for crying out loud! But slow can kiss my ass right now because nothing in the world feels better and more euphoric than kissing Emma Bloom.

She leans forward and runs her tongue over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth for her. Her tongue dances with mine and hell, if I thought I was hard before.

Emma leans closer— she's almost on top of me by now— and that shift in weight unbalances the hammock, sending the two of us rolling onto the ground.

Emma lands on top of me, but the minute she realizes what's happened, she sits upright.

"I—um— I'm," Emma stammers, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

She's embarrassed now— embarrassed about her actions before the hammock slipped out from under us. I don't know how to tell her that everything she did was okay. In fact, I'm glad she took steps forward. I couldn't live with myself if I ever made her do something she didn't want to.

"Emma, don't—" I start, but it's too late.

Emma runs off toward the house and disappears inside.

I sigh.

Well, at least we made progress. Possibly one step forward and two steps back, but progress nonetheless.

Unfortunately, though, my pants are still far too tight to go inside just yet. I reach down and cup myself, trying to will my body to relax and for this inconvenient boner to go away.

It takes more than a minute, but once my body decides to relax, I can finally go inside.

I scan the living room for Emma, but she's nowhere to be seen.

"Alright, children! Time for bed!" Miss Peregrine orders, shuffling us all upstairs.

Well, I guess seeing Emma can wait until morning.


Emma's on top of me— on top of me, legs open and straddling me— kissing me. She's got her fingers tangled in my hair and she's running her tongue along my bottom lip, begging me to let her in. I do. I open up to her, letting our kisses become deeper— more passionate.

My hands are gliding up and down her back, which is covered by a thick, pink sweater.

"Emma," I breathe against her lips, my mind fighting the urges my body is giving me.

As amazing as kissing her lips feels, all my body seems to want to do is flip us over, slide that sweater and the jeans she's got on off of her, and kiss every inch of skin on her body.

Emma leans away from me, sitting upright on top of me.

"Emma?" I ask, worried that I'd somehow done something to upset her.

Emma presses her finger to her lips, locking eyes with me, and whispers, "Shhhh."

Usually, I'd be annoyed that someone shushed me, but Emma Bloom can do no wrong in my eyes. I zip my lips and let her do whatever it was she has planned.

Emma smirks, and hell if that doesn't send even more of my blood down south. As if I wasn't hard enough to begin with.

Emma's thin fingers trace along my belt buckle before pulling the leather out of the metal and sliding it out through the loops on my jeans.

My head slumps back on my pillow as my mind reels. Holy hell, she's taking my pants off.

And that's exactly what she does. Emma unbuttons and unzips my jeans and slides them, along with my boxers underneath, down and off.

A rush of embarrassment floods my body when I see how my penis is standing straight up, completely erect, showing no signs of softening any time soon.

"Don't feel embarrassed, Jake," Emma assures me, her finger tracing the head of my penis lightly.

My breath hitches. This is the first time anyone besides me has touched me like this— and hell if it doesn't feel amazing.

"Is this okay?" Emma asks as a bead of pre-cum coats the head, slicking the way for Emma's hand, which fully wraps around me and begins stroking.

"Y-Yeah, Em," I stutter, choking back moans as Emma strokes faster.

Her hand is slipping along my skin, jerking her hand up and down, twisting her wrist when she gets to the head.

"Emma," I groan, balling up the bedsheets in my hands.

"Relax, Jake."

Suddenly something warm and wet closes over me. And when I look up to see what it is, my mind just about short circuits.

Emma's plump pink lips are wrapped around the head of my penis and her eyes are staring straight at me.

"Oh my—" I start to say, but when Emma swirls her tongue around the head before hollowing out her cheeks and sucking the entire length into her mouth my train of thought goes completely AWOL.

My breathing is uneven and labored, my heart is pounding in my chest, my toes are curling and uncurling, and my fists are clutching for dear life at the sheets. My stomach is in knots and I've come to the conclusion that I'm about to finish and I should probably warn Emma.

"Emma, Emma, Emma, I'm.. I'm gonna—"


Holy hell. I shoot straight up in my bed, entirely too aware of the sticky, cooling mess I apparently have made in my pajama pants, and also entirely too aware of the fact that quite apparently my penis is still hard and ready to go, despite the aforementioned mess.

Holy hell. Wet dreams are supposed to be for pre-pubescent, pre-teen boys who dream about movie and TV actresses, not seventeen year-olds with a steady girlfriend.

I can't believe I creamed my pants in my sleep.

I look over at my bedside table, sighing with relief when I realize it's 7:00 in the morning, meaning more than likely, most of the household should still be asleep.

With that in mind, I sneak out of my room, throwing a quick glance to both the girls' and boys' rooms before trotting across the hall to the bathroom.

Showering is the only thing on my mind. A cold shower, at that.

I strip out of my clothes and turn the shower on, leaving it cold in hopes of depleting yet another inconvenient boner, courtesy of Miss Emma Bloom.

I step in and the first thing I do is attempt to clean the mess I made out of my leg hair, enjoying the water and the effect it has on my body.

Just as I'm washing the rest of my body off, my ears perk up at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

"Hello?" I ask, hoping against hope that Emma is not who just walked through the door.

"Sorry, Jake, gotta relieve myself," Hugh laughs, easing my mind slightly. "Don't use all the hot water. I'm next."

I chuckle uneasily, knowing that I obviously won't be using up the hot water, and I think Hugh picks up on that.

"No steam, huh," Hugh notes, looking at the bathroom mirror once he's done 'relieving himself.' "No steam equals no hot water. No hot water equals Jake taking a cold shower at an early morning hour, which equals pretty much only one thing."

I groan and poke my head out from behind the shower curtain.

"Don't you dare say a word," I order, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

"Let me guess. Emma?" Hugh jokes, almost cackling at his own words. "Don't sweat it, Jake. Mums the word. I won't tell her."

I sigh a sigh of relief and thank Hugh before he leaves.

I quickly finish up my shower and dress in jeans and a t-shirt. I head out to my bedroom, resigning myself to stay there until I feel less embarrassed about my 'dream'.

I'm laying on my bed reading Bronwyn's copy of the Tales when I hear my bedroom door open.

"Jake?" the voice of an angel asks.

I don't answer. The thought of Emma Bloom today makes my body flush and nervous sweat.

"Jake?" Emma asks again, coming to kneel on the floor beside my bed.

"I don't feel like talking, Emma."

I know I sound cruel. I know I sound mean. But the embarrassment that fills my body when I think of Emma isn't a pleasant feeling, so I push her away.

"What's the matter, Jake? Did I do something wrong?" Emma worries, and I know her mind is sending her back to yesterday on the hammock.

"No. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just not in a mood to talk."

"Fine. Come find me when your mood is brighter."


Supper time comes far too quickly for my liking. Far too quickly for my liking because it's the second time today that I have to see Emma after last night.

I stayed in my room all day reading the Tales, keeping as much distance between Emma and I as I could.

I know it isn't fair to her, but I just needed a day to myself to come to terms with the fact that my body unconsciously (okay, and consciously) wants Emma Bloom. I want her so badly and I can't have her. I can't have her like that. Not now, anyway.

Maybe someday, but not today.

I'm a teenage boy. I know this. I know my body is going to over-sexualize anyone who so much as looks at me, but Emma is more than a sexual icon. She's Emma. She's beautiful and strong and kind and fun and okay, yeah, she's sexy as hell, but she's more than just that. She is fire, in more ways than one. She's my light. She's my queen. And my queen deserves more than a horny teenager for a king.

I can feel Emma's eyes on me all through dinner, and I can feel her eyes on me as I walk away from the table once we've all finished eating.

"Did you guys fight or something?" I hear Bronwyn ask Emma.

"Not that I'm aware of," Emma sighs, and I can hear it in her voice that I'm hurting her.

I sigh to myself and head upstairs, my heart breaking in my chest at the thought of hurting my queen.


It's about around midnight, and I'm shuffling through the music on my iPod when I hear footsteps outside my bedroom door.

I haven't gone to sleep yet in fear that I'll repeat the occurrence from last night.

The footsteps stop outside my bedroom door, and the door creaks open as Emma steps through it, closing it behind her.

"I don't care if you don't want to talk. You will not leave me to believe I've done something to hurt you or upset you without talking to me about it," Emma says, sitting herself down on my bed beside me. "I demand to know why you've been ignoring me today."

"Emma, I… I'm sorry," I frown, setting my iPod on my bedside table and turning to face the woman beside me.

"Well, you should be."

"I'm sorry, Emma. I'm sorry for ignoring you today. I was too embarrassed to talk to you," I say, knowing that now that I've said it, I'll have to tell her why.

"Embarrassed? What in the world should you have to be embarrassed about?"

I groan. I flop down on my back, my head hitting my pillow and clap my hands over my eyes.

Emma lies down next to me propping her head up on her arm as she uses her other hand to pull mine away from my face.

"You're blushing," Emma notes, smiling to herself as she makes eye contact with me.

"You can't get upset. Please. And no laughing."

"Jake, I wouldn't laugh at you for anything," Emma promises, her now free hand tracing patterns on my bare chest.

I sigh. It takes me a minute to figure out how to word what it is I'm telling her, but decide to just go with the truth.

"I had a dream about you last night."

Emma seems to think for a minute, wondering why that could possibly be something that would make me ignore her all day.

"A dream? I don't—"

"Emma, I had a sexual dream about you last night," I clarify, averting my eyes from hers.

Emma seems to think about what she's going to say next which only makes my heart beat harder and harder in my chest.

"And just what were we doing in your dream?"

The question startles me. And if I'm being honest, I might've preferred it if she got mad and stormed out because now I have to explain to her what she was doing in my dream.

"Oh, um… We were… um, kissing. A-and you were um… on top of me," I stutter, feeling my cheeks heat up again, closing my eyes so I don't have to look at her.

I feel the bed beside me move slightly and for a moment I think Emma's leaving, but when I feel her bottom rest on my thighs, I know she's not leaving.

"Like this?" she asks, leaning down so her face is barely an inch from mine.

I nod, not remembering now how to form words.

Emma Bloom is on top of me— really this time, not just in a dream. She's really here.

"And what else were we doing in this dream?"

"Well, um, we were just kissing at first."

She leans in closer, her breath ghosting over my lips, "Like this?" she asks before pressing her lips to mine.

At that, my brain short-circuits. Feeling her lips on mine is just about the best thing in my world right now.

For what feels like an eternity, our lips and tongues dance together, and it's an eternity I'd be content to live in forever.

I reach up and tangle my fingers into Emma's soft, blonde locks, holding her body to mine, kissing her with as much passion as I can muster.

My other hand lays on her thigh— her bare thigh, because what I hadn't noticed when she walked in was what she was wearing. Emma is clad in only a short, but not too short, nightdress. It's pink with some sort of design on it, but I can't bring myself to be concerned with it because Emma Bloom is on top of me, kissing me.

"What else were we doing?" Emma asks, nuzzling her nose against my jaw, ghosting her lips against my neck and clavicle.

"You— Not us. Not what we were doing. What you were doing," I correct her.

At that, Emma's head perks back up and she looks directly at me, waiting to hear what she did next in my dream.

"Well, what was I doing, then?" Emma asks, smirking a smirk that made my blood run southbound.

"You, um, you… t-took my pants off," I explain, biting my lip and hoping like hell that she won't get upset.

"I did, did I?" Emma asks, dipping her fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants as she slides them down my legs and drops them onto the floor.

I inhale heavily. I'm laying here, completely naked in front of Emma Bloom. I'm naked on my bed and the most incredible woman in my world is kneeling above me.

"And what did I do next?" Emma asks, although I'm almost entirely sure she knows what she did next.

Instead of telling her outright, I reach out and gently pick up her hand in mine and guide it down to my penis, guiding it along the skin.

And holy hell, if I thought this felt good in my dream, the real deal is even better.

Emma's hand glides easily along my skin, and with every stroke, I get closer and closer to that finish line.

Emma's eyes are trained directly on mine, and she's watching all of my reactions. Watching as my chest heaves and my eyes open and close tightly and my fingers claw at the bedsheets, watching for what feels good so she can keep doing it.

Given the time of day and the fact that the rest of the children are most likely sleeping, I'm trying not to make too much noise, but it seems as though I'm not doing such a hot job of it. Moans and heavy breaths escape my lips, despite my best attempts to keep them at bay.

Emma grazes her thumb along the head of my penis, kicking everything into overdrive for me. But just as I'm getting closer and closer, she slows her movements.

"Did I do anything else in your dream?" Emma asks, stroking slowly along my now slick shaft.

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush again. This was the part in my dream that made me come in my pants in my sleep, and now I have to tell Emma about it.

"Y-you… You—" I stop. I can't bring myself to tell her this part, so instead I do like I had before and show her.

I beckon her closer to me and lay my hand on the back of her head, guiding her slowly down. She goes along easily, which tells me she's comfortable doing this. If she wasn't, she'd tell me.

And holy— holy something. Sure, her hand was great, but her mouth, holy hell.

My hips buck up off the bed as she wraps her lips tightly around me.

"Oh my—" I breathe as my hand tangles back into her hair.

Emma slides her lips up and down, up and down, hollowing her cheeks and twirling her tongue and it feels so damn good.

I close my eyes and focus intently on the feelings my body is experiencing.

Emma continues on like that for at least a few minutes, sucking and sliding her mouth along my skin and doing every delicious thing possible to a single part of the body.

"Emma, if you keep going I'm gonna—" I warn.

Emma slides her lips slowly upward along my shaft, holding eye contact with me the entire time, swirling her tongue around the head one last time before letting my penis fall from her lips.

"Content as I am to continue doing that until you finish, there's something else I'd like to do," Emma says, and at that I sit straight up, putting myself as close as possible to her in our positions.

"Anything, I'll do anything," I tell her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Emma stands from my bed, and I'm worried for a moment that she'll leave, but instead, she does something breathtaking.

Emma grabs the hem of her nightdress and lifts it up, tossing it on the floor behind her, leaving her only in her panties, which she then takes off too.

Emma climbs back onto the bed with me, now naked as I am, and leans in to kiss me.

The kiss lasts only a second though before Emma takes my hand in hers, guiding it between her legs.

Two of my fingers slip down, aided by the wetness found there. I slip a finger inside her, which makes her breath hitch.

"Jake— Jake, I— I want to—"

Despite not finishing her sentence, I understand her.

I lay her down flat on her back and hover atop her.

"Are you sure about this, Emma?" I ask, making sure she wants this before I proceed.

"Positive. I've never wanted anything more," she promises, opening her legs for me.

Before moving forward, I take a minute to admire the sight before me. Emma Bloom. Soft, beautiful blonde hair splays out around her head like a halo. Beautiful shining, shimmering eyes stare back at me intently and pouty lips are held between teeth, turning them a shade of red that makes her fair skin seem somehow more beautiful.

Below her face is her chest. Beautiful, perky breasts are prominent as she lays flat and I want almost nothing more than to kiss them until my lips fall off.

I trail my eyes down along her stomach, and down further to her center— her womanhood, if you will.

Every last inch of my Emma Bloom is beautiful and alluring and incredible.

I lean forward now, pressing my lips to hers. I kiss her with passion and heat and love. I kiss her also to distract her from my fingers finding their way back inside of her.

I pump my fingers in and out of her, rubbing that special spot with my thumb, hoping to make her feel even half as good as she made me feel, and by the looks of it, I might be succeeding.

Emma's breaths are short and uneven and she's clawing into my shoulder as she attempts to kiss me between soft moans, almost too soft to hear.

"Jake— I want you now. Please," Emma says, and I can't help but oblige her.

I remove my fingers slowly, opening her legs just a hair more before guiding myself to her.

And suddenly, I'm inside of her. And it's tight— so damn tight— and warm, and wet, and tight. And none of those things sound appealing, but I promise it's so appealing.

Emma inhales harshly as I push inside, and I know I should go slow— I have to go slow— but my body is on autopilot right now.

It takes a minute but I finally am able to push fully inside of her, my entire length buried inside of her.

I take a minute to revel in this feeling. Her skin wrapped around mine, so tight and wet and amazing, and her legs wrapped around my waist and her hands held firmly in mine.

I'll never get this moment again, so I need to cherish it. I'll never get to feel this for the first time ever again. And this is by far better than I ever could have imagined.

When people say something is better than sex, don't believe them. There's nothing better than this feeling right here.

"Are you going to move, Jake?" Emma asks, snapping me back to reality.

I laugh nervously and ease myself out of her, only to the tip before pushing back inside, repeating that over and over and over again.

I continue thrusting into her as I lean in, pressing my lips to her collarbone, kissing down until I reach her breasts.

I leave gentle, light kisses along her breasts, letting my breath ghost over her nipples, watching as she reacts heavily to that, her hips canting up to meet my thrusts and her head falling back against the pillow.

I gently swirl my tongue around her left nipple, groaning myself when I hear her response.

"Jake— Jake, that feels so good," Emma whispers, her voice littered with moans and pants.

I lave my tongue along her nipple once more before moving to the other one, all the while not stopping my thrusts inside her.

I release one of her hands and gently begin to rub small circles along her clit, knowing if I do that, combined with playing with her breasts, combined with being inside her, she'll actually get to that finish line.

I'm kissing her chest and licking her nipples and rubbing her clit and thrusting inside her all at the same time, trying to listen intently to the sounds my beautiful Emma is making.

Soft moans are falling from her lips, increasingly getting louder and higher in pitch. She's close. She's going to finish, and I'm the one doing this to her. That thought alone hurtles me toward that same finish line.

"Jake— Jake— Jake, I'm— I'm—" Emma cries before her back arches off the bed and her insides clutch me even tighter than before.

I stave off my own impending orgasm long enough to watch Emma's body get wracked with her own. Her back arches off the bed, her legs clamp tighter around my waist, her eyes close and her mouth falls open.

There's not a more beautiful sight to behold— not one in the whole world.

Just as Emma comes down from her high, I'm hurtled towards mine, slamming one last time inside of her before emptying myself of all I've got, not even bothering to stay quiet anymore. I can't. It feels too damn good to not express it. I'm moaning and groaning and shaking like a damn leaf and I wouldn't choose to have it any other way.

I slowly and easily slide my softening member out of her and flop down beside her on the bed.

"We should probably clean up," Emma whispers, tiredness already beginning to take hold of her.

I can't say I'm too far behind because I can already feel my eyes drooping.

"Or we can just go to sleep," I try, sliding myself underneath my comforter, holding the side up, inviting her under as well.

She shrugs and slides in with me, snuggling herself into my side before drifting off to sleep. I wrap my arm securely around her, reveling in the feeling of her body against mine.

I press gentle kisses to her shoulder, nuzzling my nose against her skin before feeling the call of sleep wash over me.


A/N: I wrote this in such a way that it can be left as is as a stand-alone piece, or can be added to. If you'd like this to be turned into a series, leave a comment.