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dameare · 8 months

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Personal Brand of Heater | Jacob Black x Fem!Reader (Oneshot)

Word count: 1,899

Summary: The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.

Silly notes: So... it was 4am... and it was cold, so at the time writing this made a lot of sense. Plus I was lonely and destructively pining for the one and only, Jacob Black. *hands you this fic* Enjoy!

The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.

Winter was just by the horizon, approaching with a certain quiet inevitability, and a blanket of darkness was beginning to unfurl itself across the landscape—and Forks, being the cold and sleepy town that it was, made the first hints of a wintry burden a lot more obvious.

So it was cold. And it was just that there was something about cuddling with Jacob in the middle of the night that did it for me. It made total sense: I was freezing, and Jacob was hot. Literally. Like my personal brand of heater. And maybe I also liked him a little bit. Or a little too much. Or maybe I was in-love. It was the only explanation, even though before what had happened I'd hardly given myself enough time to even name what I'd started to feel for Jake.

It sounded stupid at first, being in-love with Jake. There was no way. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced and horrified I became. That stupid fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever Jake looked at me. I'd thought about the way my chest sometimes felt like it was going to explode when he hugged me, or the way my stomach dropped and twisted at the thought of Jacob hugging a different woman that wasn’t me. God, I was in-love. Of course I was. But even that wasn’t reasonable enough to accidentally kiss him.

So when I had had the clever idea of hitting Jacob up to “hang out” at two in the morning and he didn’t reply, I'd assumed that would be the end of it, and that I would have to curl up in bed, alone and feverish from the chills the night brought.

But that wasn’t the case, and I had only realised this when Jacob was already launching himself through my second-story window and then into my room with a stealthy thud. The dumbass.

I looked at him, stunned. “Jake, what the hell?”

“Whew, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jacob said, a wide and pleasant grin of mockery spreading across his face—the one that made my stomach do the dumb flip thing. GAH. “I’m sure you don’t really mind.”

“I don’t,” I said automatically. I wasn't stunned at seeing him anymore, because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and I was stunned at something else instead. The pale moonlight sneaking in through my open window made his russet skin look richer. He looked ethereal. The dangerous kind of ethereal. “Do you ever get cold?” I asked dumbly, trying to shift my focus.

Jacob laughed. “Didn’t you already ask that before?”

“I did? Maybe I forgot.” And maybe I had also forgotten how to talk.

He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to crack a joke, but something made him change his expression. Instead, worry creased his forehead, and he inched closer to me.

He was huge, and he leaned over me, so huge that his shadow made my little room look darker. I was looking up at him, completely overwhelmed—my head was pounding and my chest was freaking out and the fever, which I had momentarily forgotten about ever since he came in, came hitting me again. I swayed unsteadily, legs going slightly limp. Jacob grabbed me easily by the waist. “Hey, hey. Is everything okay?” He whispered anxiously, slowly easing me towards the edge of the bed. “You’re shivering, why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Are you cold?”

I only managed to nod before my legs gave way, plopping into a weak heap on the bed.

His hand was really warm. “Jesus christ, you’re freezing. Don’t you have a heater somewhere?”

I shivered uselessly on the bed, delirious. He watched me for one long moment, hesitating. Then he snuck to my side and began settling down onto the bed, and before I could even begin to protest, his arms were already wrapped around me—one arm under my head and the other tightly snug around my waist. And then I wasn't protesting anymore.

I let my head rest against his bare chest. “You’re so warm,” I muttered, the words muffled out by his chest. The heat was so inviting, so comfortable that I didn’t want to pull away. Not that I could ever, even if I had the energy to. The warmth seeped into my skin, the icy grips of the night slowly melting away.

Jacob chuckled, pleased. “That better? Don’t move too much, alright. Save your energy for me. I’ll warm you up.”

“What about you?” I exhaled heavily. “You’re going to freeze.”

“Not really,” he promised. “Hey, say, why don’t you try sleeping? What’s kept you up this late?”

I thought for a second. "Hypothetically," I said, my mind gaining clarity. "If you weren't a werewolf anymore and you lived in the city, what's the first thing you'd do?"

I felt his chest stop at a chuckle, and then there was silence. When it dragged on for a moment too long, I tilted my head to look at his expression. He was staring into the distance, where I'd put up a bunch of city photos for my vision board. His eyes seemed to light up. "If I weren't a werewolf anymore," he mused. "I'd try out all the burgers in the city and check out what they sell in Walmart. I heard they sell weird stuff there... and then maybe I'd go shopping in one of those big malls... get a job... go to a university."

I snorted. "Wow okay, I understand the rest, but Walmart? Really?"

"Don't judge me," he met my eyes, suddenly defensive. He smiled playfully and pushed my hair out of my face. "Let's hear yours. If you decided to live in the city, away from... all of this. What would you do?"

There was hardly any need to think, because it was all I ever thought about during my first summer in Forks. And it was hardly even a summer, really, because it rained all the time and it was still cold even on the good days where the sun was slightly more visible. "I would live by myself in the city, in a small apartment. Like a normal person," I said, wincing at the last part, because all things considered, I thought the word *normal* just didn't exist in Forks anymore, and saying it felt like a major offense. He nodded, and I went on, "I would go to bookstores and those loud concerts... and then go for a late night drive after, you know? Just drive for hours without a destination. It kind of sounds nice. It's like surrendering all your worries for one night. I think that kind of freedom would make me feel lighter."

I watched his face. He laughed at first, saying, "Your answer makes mine look like child's play."

"I'd try out every burger with you, and go to every Walmart conceivable." I offered.

"You'd do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He grinned. "Well, I'd carry your books for you, and I'd drive you across the city for as long as you want. Sounds fair?"

"So it's a promise." I smirked.

"Hah well, not that my being a werewolf can stop me from making you happy," he said. Then he tightened his grip just a bit and lifted me effortlessly, setting me on top of him. "Is this better?"

I hummed a yes, suddenly finding it very, very difficult to breathe. "You're... really warm," I sighed.

He smiled softly. It looked so much better up close, so much so that my stomach did that weird flippy thing again. "You said that earlier. Although," a sheen of mischief lit his eyes up, "if you want to feel warmer you could always just take your clothes off."

"Jacob," I warned, a smile threatening to break out of my face. "Shut up, will you?"

"Survival one-oh-one," he teased.

"Saying that isn't really a friends thing."

He raised one eyebrow, curious. "Oh so taking your clothes off is where you draw the line?"

"Like every sane person, ever, duh."

"Well, cuddling like this isn't really a friends thing either," he retorted.

My face flushed red. "What do you mean?"

"The way I hold you," he said quietly, with a sudden hint of seriousness to his voice. "Is this how friends are supposed to roll?" He asked, his face speculative.

I stayed quiet. I wasn't breathing again. It was the question, and maybe the way the gentle glow of the moon was casted upon his face. His eyes twinkled in the light, like pools of rich and velvety chocolate. He was sort of beautiful that I didn't want to breathe ever again. He stared right through me, watchful and interested. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, and our breaths mixed with how close our faces were. It was so warm and so right.

My gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, then back again. His mouth tugged up at one corner, as if he had the faintest idea of what I was thinking—and maybe, just maybe, he thought the same.

It was slow, but also quick in a weird way—not quick as in like something in the heat of the moment, but quick enough that I couldn't register what was happening, and slow enough for me to remember every single detail—slow enough for me to conclude that it really wasn't an accident.

His hand gently made its way to the small of my back. He rubbed gently, and I leaned in, our faces inching even closer; I could hear my heartbeat loud against my chest, so loud maybe he'd heard it too. But his eyes were fixed, mesmerised as I moved in. Our noses touched and he inched to the side, nudging forward with the tip of his chin; he glanced at my mouth, then flickered quickly back to my eyes.

There was a momentary pause where our faces both hovered, so close and mellow and sure, and I ached in anticipation. I stole one more glance at his mouth, and then I was sighing into the kiss, the aches and worries leaving my body. His lips were hot, and it scorched against mine, but god he was so gentle—like a gentle rush of air through leaves. The kiss stayed warm and slow, almost exploratory, but there was also a sliver of hunger shoved in between—like Jacob had been dying to do this for a while, and when he finally did he couldn't stop anymore. My lower lip caught delicately in his teeth, and he sucked on it; I allowed him, because I loved exploring his mouth just as much—in an almost obsessive manner. My tongue wandered, the pleasant taste of something woodsy settling into my mouth.

When we pulled apart, it was with soft gasps and fitful smiles and chuckles. He patted my head. "Was that also a friends thing?"

"Nothing about us is friendly," I finally admitted.

"So that means...?"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Jake."

His face stretched out into a huge grin. It was contagious. "Took you long enough, my little moon."

"Is that a yes?" I pinched him lightly.

He chuckled. "Do you want to go at it again for an answer?"

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