#Jack Russell x you

[redheadspark]

May Prompt Sessions (CLOSED)

Hello, my Lovelies!

Can you believe we are already in May?! Where has this year gone?! I don't know about you, but I am lowkey not ready for summer to be here soon, but that's okay!

I'm ready for another prompt session for you guys! I have nothing but love for all of you for sending in requests and reading my work these past years, it means the world to me!

This Prompt Session theme is:

Show Dont Tell

Here are my rules:

1.) You may choose ONE character from my list Here. It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) There is only One Prompt list for this session, you can request the number you wish for me to write. Please provide BOTH the numbers you would like AND the character to pair it with.

Example: May I have Aziel from ACOTAR with #5?

*I write out the requests as a first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full-time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write in my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) If I get two requests that are exactly the same, (same character and same number) I will only write it once! Please don't be afraid to ask if someone has already requested the character and number, I don't mind answering that for you :)

4.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

5.) I will stop taking requests for this prompt session on Sunday, May 12th, at 3:00 PST

6) Have fun and enjoy :)

Prompt List created by @writing-promptsss

making them meals/snacks

sneaking cute notes in their lunchbox/backpack/bags/bedroom/food cabinets/closet

remembering the important dates

remembering the little details about them

preparing a washbowl with warm water or a bath with warm water after they come home from a hard and cold day

preparing a special date night on the weekends

taking them out shopping and paying for the things they want

thinking of their s/o's needs before their own

preparing them cool beverages when they come home after a hot day

doing the dishes/chores when their s/o is tired

taking them out on a picnic

kissing them randomly

endless hugs and cuddles

giving them flowers

cheek/temple kisses in public

hugging them in public/holding hands in public

actively listening to what they're saying

not interrupting them when they are talking/doing something

asking them how they're doing/how their day was

sending cute texts

being their biggest fan

breakfast in bed

being their steady rock when they're having a tough time

letting go of arguments

doing anything to make their s/o laugh/smile (even if it means making a fool of themselves)

asking about their opinion

sharing everything with them

bringing them an umbrella to work/school if it's raining or driving them home if they have a car

driving their s/o home after work/school whenever they have the time (if they have a car)

Once again, I will no longer take requests on Sunday, May 12th, at 3:00 PST. Thanks and happy requesting!

Tagging -@a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heliosphere8 @virtueassassin @ethereal-athalia @heartofwritiing @valeridarkness @pemberlyy @saradika @basicrese

[darlingdekarios]

just a little bite.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 1,857 content: Jack Russell x f!reader, established relationship, smut [receiving fingering, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [biting, marking, breeding]

there's something Jack has wanted, and you convince him to finally give in.

“I do not know, amor…” he breathed against the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder meet, his lips brushing against the skin there as he spoke. Unable to help himself he ran his tongue along the area toward your neck before lightly dragging his teeth back down, stopping himself before he went too far – like he had done so many times now. He was old enough to have control of himself, the hundreds of years shaping him into a patient man – and yet still not in-control enough to trust his instincts around you. “What if I hurt you?”

The quiet whine to his tone brought a little smile to your lips, a shaking breath slipping from your lips as you felt his tongue and teeth lavish your skin. It was often he explored areas of your body this way – his tongue followed by the slow, barely-there drag of his teeth. Often the movements were focused on your thighs and neck, but the area he seemed fixated on today was one of your favorites, a fact he was well aware of. When you found your response your words had a subtle shake to them, his affection always pushing you to the brink before he’d even undressed you.

“I don’t think you will, baby,” you cooed, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his temple. You raised a hand to rest on the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair and scratching your nails against his scalp in the way that always made him putty in your hands. “Besides, it’s supposed to hurt a little.”

A soft laugh fell from his lips and into your skin, a soft kiss placed delicately repeatedly as he pondered your words. Turning his head he trailed gentle kisses up your neck, inhaling the familiar mixture of your scent and his mingling to ground himself further. Even after all this time with you, and the security you’d established between the two of you, and the fact you always smelled somewhat like him these days, too – Jack Russell still worried he’d lose control and lose you forever. This was precisely the reason why no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how loudly his instincts screamed for him to do so, he would not give into his deepest desire to sink his teeth into you for fear of something inside him snapping.

But it was getting harder as time went on, and he was testing the strength of the thread that held him together more often by running his teeth along your skin, by savoring how you tasted with a swipe of his tongue. Trailing his kisses to your jaw and to your forehead he leaned back on his knees in the bed, taking in how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed with arousal for him. Finely tuned senses allowed him to cherish the quickened pace to your heart, as his eyes met yours, his head moving in a firm – still uncertain – nod.

“Just a little bite, amor…just one and I will have it out of my mind,” he promised, though whether the reassurance was meant for you or himself was uncertain. You couldn’t withhold the smile that spread across your face as you nodded, your movements far more relaxed and tranquil, your eyes holding no concern. His heart tightened at your expression, knowing you trusted him with your entire life gave him some level of reassurance he often couldn’t provide himself with. “But I want to be inside you when I do it…want to be connected to you.”

He moved to sit rested against the headboard then, using a firm grasp on your waist to pull you onto his waist carefully. Both of you in your underwear alone there was very little fabric separating your hot core from him, the wetness already pooling between your legs seeping through the thin fabric. It was second nature now to rock your hips against his, a quiet moan swallowed from your lips swallowed by him as he crashed his lips back to yours. Desperate and starved as it was, there was also a deep passion to the kiss; something so deeply lovely as you sought to impart to one another how much the other meant to you.

His hands reached to gently massage your breasts first, eager as he was, he would never take advantage of the intimacy you offered him by hurrying it along to reach the finale faster. Warm thumbs brushed over already hardened nipples lightly before he claimed the buds in between his fingers, rolling them carefully to pull another moan from you. His tongue slipped between your lips the moment it could, a groan of his own rumbling in his chest as you rocked your hips against his again.

Giving you a chance to breathe he released you from the kiss, immediately lowering his head to run his tongue across one of your peaked nipples lightly before taking as much of your breast as he could into his mouth, sucking on the flesh as he pressed his growing erection into your core. As he sucked his tongue swirled again, another groan sounding in his chest as you ground down against him pointedly – it could be a conversation for another time about why your tit in his mouth made him throb.

Alternating his attention to your other breast he slipped a hand downward, opting to simply push the soaked fabric of your underwear to the side so he could run his fingers through your folds. Removing his mouth from your chest he turned his gaze downward to watch his fingers disappear up into you, his fingers slipping into your wet heat with ease thanks to how wet you were.

“Dios mío…all this for me, amor…” he murmured, leaning to connect his lips to yours again as he began to pump his fingers into you. His free hand disconnected from your waist to work his underwear down his thighs to free his straining cock. When he was content with the work his fingers had done, he removed his hand from your core, using the juices of your arousal on his hand to slicken his cock with a brief pump.

Lining himself up at your entrance he moaned when you began to lower yourself onto him, your hot, tight channel accepting inch by inch of him perfectly as a gasp fell from your lips. Gripping your waist again he held you steady, guiding you down on his cock slowly as quiet praises fell from his lips in Spanish. When he was completely sheathed he stilled, allowing you a moment to adjust to him again and steady yourself with hands against his chest.

When you began to ride him, working yourself up and down on his cock he released a pleasured sound of his own, his hands gripping you tight enough to potentially break skin with his nails. His lips found yours again, slotting against yours in a desperate kiss which you greedily returned, movements intentional but already picking up pace in desperation. A deep rumbling growl sounded in his chest, the animalistic sound only causing you to grind down against him particularly slow, enjoying the somewhat feral way Jack responded to you.

Eventually his hips began to thrust upward to meet your movements, grunts leaving his mouth in time with each hammering of his cock against your cervix, matching the high-pitched moans that left your mouth for him. He rolled suddenly, keeping his cock inside you as he went. One he pinned you on your back and you’d situated your legs around his waist he began to pump into you again, one of his hands grasping one of yours and lifting it above your head as he kissed you breathless again.

He fucked into you with the utmost reverence, his passionate kisses and sweet words only adding to the burn that was building deep in your stomach, your release approaching with the signal of your shaking thighs. He halted the kiss he’d initiated then, leaning his sweat-slickened forehead against yours as he slowed his thrusts slightly, dragging his hips against yours infuriatingly slow to dangle you over the edge. His voice was a tone you savored, every word rumbling through his chest with a quiet growl as he spoke.

“If you are still sure, amor…” he began, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I will take my one bite as you cum for me.”

You could only nod, lost in the colors of his eyes as you raised your hips to his, desperate for his movements to return. With a deep breath he began to move his kisses down your neck again, mapping his way to a spot he’d actually picked long ago. When his lips found the desired spot, one he’d already gifted with kisses moments before, he first ran his tongue over the spot, choosing that moment to begin his perfect thrusts into you again.

As he built you close to the edge again, focusing his thrusts to rub the head of his cock against the spongey, sensitive patch within you, his mouth played delicate attention to his chosen spot. Soon enough he had your thighs shaking again, quiet words of encouragement spilling through his lips in between kisses and licks and tiny, experimental nibbles. Overwhelmed by physical and mental bliss you could only signify the oncoming of your finish by giving his hand a squeeze, your walls beginning to tighten around him. With a nod he began to bite down into the spot, that deep, rumbling groan sounding in his chest again.

As your orgasm rushed through you and your walls squeezed him impossibly tighter his teeth sank further, his own release washing over him as he spilled his seed into you – something he’d no doubt apologize for after, despite how it made you moan louder. Squeezing his hand tighter and quietly whispering his name he tasted the lightest familiar metallic taste in his mouth. Realizing this was his cue to stop he immediately did, his only thought your continued bliss as he ran his tongue over the bite gently.

As you came down from your shared bliss, he pressed the gentlest of kisses to the bruising bite mark, his eyes happily fixated on his mark against your skin. When he opted to withdraw his cock from you, he kept his arms around you, rolling only to his side and maintaining his closeness to you. He pressed a sheepish kiss to your lips, enjoying the way you curled closer to him as he brought a blanket over the two of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before lowering his head once again, pressing another gentle kiss to the mark he’d left before claiming your lips again briefly. When he spoke, his voice was free of the earlier anxiety it had carried, his intrusive thoughts satiated and silenced, if only for a moment.

“Muchas gracias, hermosa…” he thanked you quietly before burying his face in your hair, entangling your legs together as the two of you drifted off to sleep.

masterlist. marvel masterlist.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Forbidden Fruit: Masterlist

Jack Russell x Female Reader

Alistair (OC) x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you from a vicious vampire attack and you discover you might be more entangled than you thought.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Mature Content, NSFW, Love Triangle, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bondage, Vampires, Werewolves, Blood, Gore, Injury, Torture, Sniffing, Kissing, Biting, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Female Orgasm, Kidnapping, Dubious Consent, Jealousy, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Hand Holding, Face Holding, Domestic Jack

Special Guest Star: Moon Knight

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

[fluffyprettykitty]

Luminescence

Pairing: Jack Russell x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1300 words

Outline: You and Jack have long been lovers but this was the first time watching him transform in your presence.

Warnings: exophilia, breeding kink, nipple pulling, rough penetration, marking.

Author's Note: Been meaning to write this since October, it was long overdue. First time writing something for someone in the werewolf form, hoping I did it some justice. Thank you for sharing your ideas with me about this dreamboat of a man!

PS: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Jack Russell Masterlist

It was Friday the thirteenth and there was a full moon.

You were sitting outside Jack’s self-made cage in the basement of the house you have been sharing together but it was the first time you were feeling scared for him. You knew about him, his transformation, the way he felt, the way he tried to relax but he never could risk you coming downstairs during the night. 

The night had fallen, three more hours to go until midnight came and the moon shined bright and Jack’s eyes were the first to change. He sat like this with his back on the wall, his head pushing back breathing steadily in and out. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” He whispers. “You don’t ever have to worry about me, my love.” He whispers slowly not wanting to look at you for now. 

“I’ll make sure it is.”

That makes him chuckle and he reaches out his hand to you, extending his beating heart just for you. 

“I love you. Always know this.” He gives you a soft smile and squeezes your hand gently and you can’t help but fall a little more in love with the man you’d choose every day of your life.

Last night you had seen a bizarre dream, a beast devouring a red-clad woman, feasting on her body and it set your soul on fire. Today you didn’t want to leave him by your sight but you honestly could not expect what would come next. 

His transformation happens slowly, one body part following another body part. His nails show first, followed by a mountain of hair that you could never honestly expect to make you feel the way you felt.

Utter and overwhelming lust. 

And you knew he could feel it too. 

Jack now in his werewolf form pushes the bars of the cage open bursting out of it just to grab your body, squeezing you in his arms. It’s primal and different, his eyes reflecting the moonlight but you knew there was utter devotion and affection behind them. He pauses, he is asking for permission and you slowly nod your head. You could ever so clearly recognize the man you fell in love with. 

His big hands caress your body, starting from your back to your waist, to your hands, wanting to feel you like this, skin on skin and you are thankful for the simple long dress you had worn that morning. His touch feels both familiar and new yet what you notice as very different is the way he smells the air, constantly sniffling, as he pushes your sleeves up. 

He grabs your hand no longer able to resist himself and smells your skin so deeply, eliciting a growl that your body's heat grows stronger. And he knows it too. His hands move to your neck and he pushes the fabric down to expose your neck for him to smell and devour as he likes. It feels as if he is rubbing himself on you, wanting to both engulf you in his smell and have yours in return. 

Once he has enough of your neck he pushes the fabric further down, tracing his hands over your bra. A little bit worn as it was one of your older everyday ones with that distinct mark from the one time he had literally bitten it off of you. That memory makes him growl once more before he is burying his head between them, stretching his head until you help him get it off. 

Your hands are now caressing his furry face holding his chin for him as he is using his tongue on your nipple, a satisfying purring coming from him. 

“Jack…my love.” 

You breathe out when he starts pulling your nipple. He feels so much stronger and bigger against your body, so like you’ve never felt before. Amusing though you find how obsessed he seems to be in any form with your breasts, any day it was hard to push him off you. He growls in response pushing you against his mouth, to devour you better and you can’t help but moan louder. 

“I need more…So much more.” 

You mewl and it reminds you of all your everyday sex life, where Jack focused so much on your nipples because he liked watching you orgasming like this. Just from his mouth. And then he’d eat you out again, depriving you of his delicious cock until you were too weak for him. Too weak to resist his touch. 

There was no way you were missing out on werewolf dick. 

He shyly looks up at you as if he wants to say something. Something along the lines that if he starts he won’t stop until he breeds you fully and somehow you understand. You understand because that’s what you want. To become one with him. 

“Please, make me yours, entirely yours. I want to be claimed by you, Jack.” You plead, your wetness getting entirely too much for you to handle on your own. 

But this was still the Jack you knew and once he let go of your nipple, he pushed the dress upwards and crowned himself on your pussy until one mind-blowing orgasm later, you were begging him to stop. He could never be the kind of man to skip a meal.

A couple of minutes later, your dress is ripped on the floor, your body is pinned against the wall as you are holding the cage bars tightly while Jack is pushing his fat leaking cock inside you. The unfamiliar stretch is making you groan in shock. You had never felt more full, more filled, and more unsatisfied.

“M…” You try to whisper but the pain is overwhelming you. 

“Mo…” “More!” “Please, please, please!” 

You try to shout and your hands fall on his shoulders. He growls

and starts bending his hips against your body slowly. He wants you to feel any and every inch of him. Just like he always does, slow and punishing. 

Slowly like this, he starts claiming you as his. Moving your body in a way that makes your breasts jiggle only for him, his strong stare warming your soul. Where you always wanna be. His cock is leaking pre-cum inside you and it makes you feel whole. 

“Give me your pup, baby.” 

You breathe out and the words escape from your lips before you can even think them through. Jack howls for the first time, you can hear him do that and the pride and love you felt for him were unmatched. 

Then he breeds you exactly as you wanted him, turns you around, manhandles you, and pushes you on top of your dress, gripping your hips from the back. He pushes his cock inside you fast, and immediately snaps his hips forward, setting a brutal and hard pace, fast and strong until he feels himself coming undone. Howling as he does, spreading his knot inside you and filling you up. 

The amount of cum that’s leaking down your thighs with his huge cock still inside you has you delirious. Oh next time, you were getting that thing inside your mouth. 

Some full moons made werewolves like Jack became obsessed with breeding someone with their pup, the older and stronger they got and Jack had long been in love with you. Now laying on his hairy chest, naked and satisfied, bred and full, you are caressing his cheek, looking at him tenderly. That’s where you always wanna be on his lap, laying on his chest and breathing him in. 

Your lover, your life, your light. 

For updates please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and you could even turn on post notifications! :)

[heartsfromjeanee]

Never Close Enough

Jack Russell x Reader

Summary: The day after the full moon is always a rough one and needs you the most at that time. Warnings: smut, 18+ ((also I didn't proofread this very well so there may be some errors ))

It was the night after the full moon, this transformation had been particularly rough on Jack. You weren’t sure what he had done as a werewolf last night, but all you knew is Jack felt completely awful both physically and mentally. He wouldn’t speak much, which was quite rare for him, and refused to leave your side whatsoever.

For most of the day, the both of you spent curled up in your bed as he rested. He slept for most of the time, and when he wasn’t sleeping, he would mumble things to himself in Spanish while you ran your hand through his hair comforting him.

Finally, he broke the silence with a soft “Mi amor.” That left his left his lips. You turned your head to look him in the eyes as he stared up at you with his big green ones. “Need you. Por favor.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, until you felt his hand slowly drift down toward the inner of your thigh. You quickly caught on to what he meant and left out a soft “oh”.

Without another moment to spare, you maneuvered yourself, so you were now on top of him, careful to not apply to much body weight onto him as he was still a bit sore from the evening before. Both of your arms were on either side of him as you supported yourself, and you connect your lips to his, commencing a slow and passionate kiss.

Jack’s arms moved onto your hips, pushing them down onto his, trying to get a bit of friction to where he needed it most. He left out a whimper as he grinded up into you, the pleasure feeling just right.

You and Jack were both only in your underwear, so there wasn’t much undressing that either of you needed to do from that point. Jack moved his hands an inch from where they had been so he could take your underwear off, then you sat yourself up so you could get them fully off while he removed his own.

Jack didn’t waste any time getting you back on top of him, this time making your body pressed completely on top of his as he didn’t care about the tinge of pain from being sore, he just need you as close as physically possible.

You reached down to grab his cock, lining it up at your entrance, then slowly lowering yourself onto it. You let out a gasp of pleasure while Jack let out a low groan as he eyes squeezed shut.

You began to move yourself up and down gradually, you leaned your head into Jacks neck.

“Yes Amor, so so good. Just like that.” He mumbled out as he let his hands roam to your ass, starting his own pace as he began to thrust up into you. You cried out his name and threw your head back, Jack taking this opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, leaving little love bits everywhere he could.

“Shit Jack, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, moving one of your hands into his hair, giving a gentle tug on it. Jack gasp and placed his head back on the pillow.

“Cum amor, cum with me. Please mi amor.” He begged as he watched you face as her eyes shut and mouth open as you moaned. You felt that knot within you break, and pleasure watched over you, Jack followed suit, cumming only seconds later.

As you both began to come down from your highs, you brought your head back down to kiss him again, it was sloppy but sweet. You broke the kiss to catch your breath, placing your head to rest on his shoulder, your eyes struggling to stay open as sleepiness began to wash over you.

“Te amo mucho. You're so good to me.” You heard Jack whisper, his arms coming to wrap around your body.

“Te amo.” You whispered back, Jack placing a soft kiss against your forehead and moment after you fell asleep, with Jack still filled up inside of you.

[writer-darling]

About You

Rating: G (General Audiences)

Pairing: Jack Russell (Werewolf by Night, 2022) x GN!Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Hurt/comfort. Mentions of injuries and bruises. More-than-friends-but-not-a-couple trope. Mutual pining. Coziness. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 2k

Summary!: Based on the song by The 1975. Jack always responded to letters. Always. What happens the one time he doesn't?

******

Early morning train rides are always a gamble. Sometimes, they were peaceful. You could easily slip into a quick nap with how smooth the ride could be on those days. Sometimes, it was chaos. If it was riddled with teenage students who commuted to the nearest high school, it could easily be an hour’s worth of hell. But today was thankfully not one of those days. As the morning drizzle drips down the windows, the train seems to be in a world of its own. You’re tempted to take another one of those naps but honestly, the worry in your bones is keeping you from doing so. You glance around at the other passengers for a moment in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

The train is sparsely-packed today. A couple of girls sit a few rows away, college-age. They sit and smile at their phones, laughing quietly amongst themselves. The shorter girl with her hair in a ponytail tilts her phone screen towards her friend, who laughs and suddenly blushes, making her look so much younger.

A man in a brown suit sits on the other side of the aisle from you, also in a window seat. He has a pair of earbuds on and his laptop is open on one of the train’s small tray carts as he talks in hushed tones to the screen in front of him. Likely some sort of business meeting from the seriousness of his tone and the furrow of his brow. A black suitcase sits next to him on the unoccupied seat beside him. 

Another glance around shows you an elderly couple that sit beside each other at the very back of the cart. The two old ladies hold hands tightly as the blonder one of the two rests her head against the shoulder of her companion.

That last image makes you smile a little. But all too soon your thoughts go back to Jack.

You usually aren’t much of a worrywart these days, but Jack’s uncharacterisitic lack of correspondence has quickly changed that. You’re not exaggerating when you say Jack is an immediate responder. To texts, to calls, to letters even. His letters almost always get back to you within 1-2 days' time. The longest he’d gone without getting back a letter was a couple of weeks and that’s because his response had gotten lost and arrived later than he had assured you. Now, his last correspondence has been almost two months. Not to mention his last phone call or text had been a week or so before that. 

When you’d reached out to his mom, she had voiced similar concerns, though there was something in her voice that sounded much less worried than you felt.

“I’m sure he’s alright.” She’d said. “He’s likely just busy.” She’d said.

Still, it’s done little to reassure you. There was just something in your gut that told you something was very, very wrong. You were almost tempted to file a Missing Person’s report, but when you’d voiced that idea to Jack’s mom, she had assured you that she would do it herself. Yet, it’s been weeks since then and no police have reached out to you at all. 

Which makes you think that, hey if she’s not too concerned, why should you be, right? After all, other than Jack’s mom, you’re his closest loved one. You know that like you know the Earth revolves around the Sun. So then, what is going on? You sit there in the train’s window seat, watching the blur of the forest pass you by as the train makes its way into town. The City Limits sign greets you in another green and white blur. Why hasn’t he written back? 

Suddenly, an awful, gut-wrenching thought hits you:

Maybe he’s forgotten about you. Not literally, of course. But maybe, just maybe, he’s finally let go of that friendship you both have cherished so much. Maybe he no longer cherishes it the way you do. The thought tastes like bitterness in the back of your throat and you don’t realize you’re crying until you glance down at your open notebook and see the tears staining the blank page. That must be it. If his mother isn’t worried… if he hasn’t made any effort to reach out… then maybe… maybe he just doesn’t want to. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest and suddenly, your pen is flying across the page, more tears staining and blurring the ink in some spots as you write.

You express your sorrows onto the page, and one page becomes two, then five. Possibly your longest letter to Jack yet. In 40-plus years of friendship, this is your longest and possibly most depressing letter yet. You’re still crying when you disembark into town and walk to the nearest post box. You slip the now-enveloped letter into the blue box and try your best to get a grip as you make the trek to your job now, opening up your umbrella as the drizzle starts to become a hard downpour.

Jack’s body ached like he’d been hit by several trains as he stumbled back onto the property, his body still recovering from last night’s transformation. His clothes were practically torn to shreds as he walked over to the mailbox, limping slightly. His body was near-entirely black and blue from so many bruises, but he’s not too concerned about that. Two months had somehow flown by as he’d been tracking monsters and creatures all over the country. Another rescue mission for Ted last-minute had stolen every ounce of his attention for the last three weeks. He’d been completely unaware of the passage of time. 

Until he saw the letters.

He knew it had been some time since he’d last responded but had it really been so long? It must’ve been. Given the five unopened envelopes sitting in his mailbox. It had made him smile to see so many of your letters greeting him home. Like the warmest hug he could ever hope for, only second to the real thing, of course. Until he opened them…

“I miss you on the train, I miss you in the morning… please write back soon…” Jack’s eyes immediately filled with tears as he finished the last of your many unanswered letters, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. His fingers ran over every tear stain, every smudged letter, and finally on your rushed signature at the bottom of the page. He grabbed his phone from his desk drawer and finally turned it back on. An influx of messages and missed calls greeted him. All from you. How could he have been so careless?

His eyes scan over the notification banners of every message, each one sounding more and more saddened than the last. He’d missed you, of course he’d missed you. He always missed you. But these last few missions in particular had left him little time to breathe let alone think about anything other than what had been directly in front of him. He had been surrounded by different terrains and different creatures for so many nights. One of those times in his life where he’d been forced to be more monster than man, simply for survival’s sake. Thankfully Ted had kept him somewhat sane. So, when the ManThing had gone missing once again, he’d been pulled back into the Wolf’s mentality in order to save them both. 

As he read the last message he knew what he had to do immediately.

“Ay no. No, no, no, no.” He didn’t even bother to pack a bag, booking the quickest flight he could as he left the house only after a quick change of his clothing. 

He had to make this right.

You’re in bed, your mind still on Jack and the letters. It’s late in the day and the last twenty-four hours since you sent the last letter have been somehow harder than the last two months combined. Bleary-eyed, you grab your phone and open it up. Still no call-back, and your messages haven’t even been read by Jack yet. You decide to send one more text. Just one more.

“Have you forgotten about me?” 

You expected maybe a text. Or a call. What you don’t expect is an urgent knocking on your door only moments later. Your heart skips a beat and you almost run to the door, your mind telling you it's impossible even as you yank it open and take in the sight before you.

“Jack?” He’s out of breath, his hair hanging in his face as he pants, leaning himself against the doorway. You only barely notice the taxi that dropped him off leaving your driveway a moment later. “H-How-?”

“How could you?” He asks, and he sounds wounded. You’re at a loss for words, relieved that he’s here but confused as to how he got here. All you can do is take in his appearance. He looks tired, he looks worn down. His eyes have the deepest shadows you’ve ever seen on him and his scruff is the most grown out he’s ever had it. But all your mind can think is: heshereheshereheshere. You don’t realize he’s speaking again until he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. 

“Do you think I’ve forgotten about you??” He demands, upset, but not angry. His voice is a grave, intense whisper and the pain in his eyes makes the hazel in his eyes burn like molten amber. Pure incredulous disbelief paints his features and you can’t respond for a full minute.

“You… You didn’t answer my letter. My messages, my calls… You always answer my letters.” You mumble in response, your voice almost detached as your mind just can’t register the fact that he’s standing right in front of you. He slumps for a moment, nodding, before stepping towards you and sweeping you up into his arms. You both embrace each other tightly and despite the restriction, you find yourself able to breathe in what feels like ages. He’s safe, he’s warm, he’s here. Your eyes close as you melt into him, feeling one of his hands cradle the back of your hair, while the other rubs your back. You’re both silent, just breathing together and reveling in the fact that you’ve reunited. You pull away after a moment, just to look at him again. Your eyes dart all over him as you soak in as much of his appearance as you can.

“I was away. I wasn’t home. I felt my phone. I-I’m sorry.” The words stumble out of his mouth quickly as he makes you meet his eyes. Your gaze locks on his for a moment as you try to catch your breath, your mind still lightly spinning. 

“I thought you forgot about me.” Your voice is almost timid as you speak and you see something in his eyes change. A fierce shift of protection you rarely ever see in Jack. He hugs you again, even tighter this time and the two of you don’t speak for a long moment as he holds you close to him. His scent permeates your senses and you breathe in deeply, your eyes closing as you bask in his warmth.

“Ni lo pienses.” His voice is a low mutter into your hair as he rubs your spine gently with his palm, his touch comforting and reaffirming his presence. You let out a shuddering breath that’s almost a laugh as you melt into him further and he melts right back. Both of you somehow keep each other upright as you hug one another so tightly you’re almost sure you’ll have bruises in the morning. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. You pull away to bring him into the house, getting both of you out of the chill and the rain into the warmth of your house. You both feel like thousand-pound weights have been removed from your chests.

He’s here... and he's not going anywhere.

******

I really need to write more Jack stories. He brings me so much comfort, I can't explain it.

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[midgardian-witch]

Good day! Or evening! Or morning! Now that I've covered every part of the day....if you're still doing these...

Prompt 10, please? "*You're* the one avoiding me!"

Werewolf by Night, but make it Three's Company. Oh no! There's been a misunderstanding!

Sorry, I am very exhausted and loopy. And that was a Friends reference to a Three's Company reference. And honestly it's probably only funny to me. 🫠 Thank you for always indulging me. Byeeee.

I watched neither so I am very sorry for not getting those references 😔 But our favorite woof boy + misunderstanding? That I can absolutely do 👍

I did miss seeing you in my inbox lately so I am glad to see you're back for more Jack content! I hope you'll like it 💙

Idiots

tags: a little angst | a little fluff | misunderstandings | established relationship | gn!reader

ships: Jack Russell/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

"You're the one avoiding me!"

"Stay away. This is too dangerous for you."

You were mad at him at first. Why couldn’t you stay with him like Ted did? Sure you weren't a supernatural creature that could crush someone's head with your bare hands but you could defend yourself! 

After some self-reflection you figured that maybe Jack was right. He was the werewolf after all. He should know best what could be dangerous for you and what wouldn't. 

You just weren't sure if he wanted to have you around even after the full moon. You tried your best to help around camp and to make things comfortable for Jack when he returned but when he did, he all but crashed back into his sleeping bag without another word. 

He was exhausted. Of course he was. You could only imagine how much energy the transformation must drain from him. So you decided to give him some space, take a walk, maybe forage for some food. 

You were wandering the woods, picking up mushrooms, herbs and other edible plants. You hoped Jack was alright, that he was resting like he should. It was difficult to stay away when all you wanted was to hold him close and take care of him. But he told you to stay away and he did need the rest, the time alone. 

He would find you when he was ready. Jack wouldn't just leave you alone out here.

But what if he wanted you to stay away forever? What if it wasn't just for this past full moon? 

Jack was a mother hen at heart. What if he thought he himself was too dangerous to be around you, not just the wolf? 

With your thoughts spiraling further into darkness you kept walking through the forest almost mechanically, your body on autopilot. 

You didn't even notice the sun setting again over the horizon. 

The only thing that finally pulls you out of your dark musings is someone yelling your name. 

You stop in your tracks and look around. It doesn't take long until you see Jack running in your direction. 

"Mi vida! What are you doing here? The moon is almost up again. You shouldn't be out here alone so late; it's dangerous!" 

You flinch as he says it, the words too close to what he said before, to what drove you into the forest in the first place. 

Jack sees you flinch and freezes, afraid he may have scared you. 

"I'm sorry, mi amor. I'm still a bit agitated from last night."

You shake your head, your teeth worrying your lower lip. He moves closer to you, arms open to signal that he was going to hug you, letting you decide whether or not to let him. You lean into his embrace, the one space you would always feel safe in. 

Jack holds you close, arms tight around your body as if he never wanted to let you go again. 

"Please don't go alone into the wilderness again when it's dark, mi amor. I understand that you want to avoid me but-"

You freeze in his embrace. 

"What? You're the one avoiding me!" 

Jack pulls back only a bit so he can face you. He looks terribly confused. 

"I am not avoiding you, mi vida! You are the one walking into the woods alone away from me."

"Because you were avoiding me! Because you think you're so dangerous and I can’t handle being around a werewolf and- and…"

You look at each other in silence for a few seconds before you both burst out laughing. 

"We are idiots."

Jack nods in agreement, a big grin on his face. 

"Ah yes but we are each other's idiot."

[galactigoos]

What Happened Last Night Pt.3 - Jack Russell x Reader

Summary: Lycanthropy, much like periods, turn out to be a multi-day monthly annoyance.

Warnings: Some injury, being grumpy, retail jobs (the horror!), and only a little bit of Jack. :( Sorry. You both need space after you called him a monster. You did, not me, don’t blame me.

Word Count: ~1.7k

A/N: lol hi. its been months and idk if anyone cares about this anymore other than the sweet souls who pushed me to publish another chapter. I would like to write more. I’m fairly certain this is going to be less than ten parts total, and that seems like something I can finish.

In other news im fucking obsessed with Red Dead Redemption II so lowkey might write something for that once this is over.

Oh also I changed my url from @ / ABitGryffindorky to @galactigoos. I wanted to make my AO3 and tumblr match, make them different than my other socials so fanfic doesn’t come up when a job searches me, and JKRowling is a terf bitch. Oh and I had a stalker so thats really what prompted the change lol.

Cross-posted on AO3, as always.

Part 1, Part 2

Perhaps you hadn’t really thought through this whole running away thing. It only took about two minutes for your broken ankle to really catch up to you. Pain radiated through your ankle, spiking with every step, no matter how light it was.

But you wouldn’t go back. Not to him. So you soldiered on, picking up a large stick to serve as a cane along the way. By sheer luck, you successfully wandered back to your house.

Your poor house. The one-story little shack had its back door ripped off the hinges. A few of your dining chairs had given their lives in service of your moon-induced freakout last night. Your bedroom door had slammed against the wall so forcefully the knob was stuck in the drywall.

Leaving most of the carnage for a better day, you placed the back door into its rightful place so no animals would get in. Well, no other animal besides yourself. The thought brought a humorless laugh forward. The absurdity of the situation, the sheer isolation you now faced, piled onto you, forcing you to the floor in a fit of delirious laughter.

You kept laughing. Past when your lungs tired, past when your laugh became more of a shaking wheeze, past the tears that had accompanied your anguish. You couldn’t stop. You laughed until your tired, broken body could no longer handle the strain, and you succumbed to the gentle relief of unconsciousness.

…

At least this time when you woke up naked in the forest, you weren’t caught in any traps. You were alone and relatively unharmed aside from a long gash ripping up your torso.

You groaned as you hauled yourself to your feet. When you stood, your ankle made its presence known. But it was not the scream for attention you faced yesterday, but more of a soft yell. It felt much, much better, but still carried enough pain to force you to limp.

Was this going to happen every fucking night?

… 

After calling into work and once again resetting your back door (thankfully your only damage this time), you decided you needed a plan. If this was going to keep happening, you could not keep running into the woods stark naked. You were out of sick days at work and were already well past your skill level in home repairs. 

So you spent the day modifying the leaky, cold cellar beneath your house. It couldn’t be called a basement. The cottage you had inherited was old. Like so old, the best way to deal with flooding was to build a cobblestone wall under your house with a space for water to run through. The cellar had now been reinforced with concrete, but the drain structure remained the same. The space was unused by you, given the room was designed to flood. So you didn’t have to clear anything out; what you did have to do was secure it. 

The cellar was entered through a door in your kitchen. Down a short flight of stairs, there was another door, this one metal, to keep out a draft. You dug through junk drawers and your shed to find every lock you could, and set to work securing them all to the door from the stairs. You even hauled your mattress to be propped up against the door for some added weight. After triple checking the locks, you grabbed a bottle of NyQuil and went outside.

There, you were able to remove the mesh that normally protected your cellar from debris, and squeezed yourself through the drain opening. Thank god the old motherfuckers that built this shack left a big enough hole. 

By now, it was the middle of the afternoon. You did everything you could to stay awake, despite the exhaustion of the previous two days threatening to pull you under. You talked to yourself, you sang, you worked out. Anything.

And when it started to get darker, you paced anxiously. You removed your clothes (no point in destroying another outfit) and prayed that the werewolf would not be able to fit through the gap to the outside world. At the last second you could bear to wait, you chugged the NyQuil. Hopefully, a tired werewolf was a less destructive one. And hopefully you didn’t just overdose on NyQuil.

…

You’ve never been so happy to wake up on a cold slab of concrete. Apparently, a tired werewolf was unable to claw through your defenses. There were scratches along the cellar walls and the doorknob had been bitten into a shape resembling a crumbled wad of paper, but you were still in your house. You redressed and crawled out of your night’s sanctuary.

You had sustained a rather ugly cut across your face, going over the bridge of your nose, narrowly missing your eyes. You pictured the wolf trying to rub the sleep from its tired, drugged eyes, which was… slightly endearing? As you were otherwise unharmed, you went about your normal morning routine, with about ten times your regularly required caffeine.

It wasn’t until you were stumbling off your bike in the parking lot of the tavern that you realized your ankle didn’t hurt. You were limping still, but there was no pain. And addressing the rest of your body quickly, you noticed that most of your wounds had healed. The gash on your stomach was still tender, but even your ear had repaired itself, leaving just an angry scar and a knick on the outside edge of your cartilage where you must’ve taken a chunk clean off. All things considered, you weren’t doing too bad.

Your boss ignored your haggard state, not that you had expected him to give a shit. Mr. Glendon was always too caught up in tending to the lush garden beside the pub to notice much about his employees. As long as you did your job well enough that he didn’t have to do his, he was happy.

In a zombified state you went through the motions of customer service, serving coffee, pancakes, and toast with a smile. Internally, you were cursing this stupid fucking establishment for being open from 6AM-2AM and requiring you to drag yourself to a goddamn pub for a breakfast shift. You were so tired you hadn’t read the name on the DoorDash order you packaged. You could not as easily ignore the man who walked in to pick it up.

When the bell above the door rang, you smiled and automatically started a welcoming comment, but froze mid-sentence when your eyes met Jack’s. He froze too, halfway through the door, glancing behind him like he was ready to forget the mediocre waffles sitting behind the counter. 

“Come on,” you grumbled, gesturing him inside.

“Lo siento. I was just grabbing us breakfast before we leave town. You won’t have to see me again. I had no clue you work-”

“Waffles, Jack,” you said, cutting him off and shoving the bag at him.

“Right, waffles,” he replied, grabbing the bag and getting out his wallet, and shoving five dollars into the tip jar before you could stop him. “Okay. I’m sorry. Goodbye, y/n.”

He spun to leave. You wanted to let him. He was dangerous and had likely gotten you into this mess. But at the same time, he was the only one who could help you through it. So you had to stop him. He was almost out the door when you called his name. Well, more accurately you whispered it, as part of you was hoping he wouldn’t hear you and you wouldn’t have to keep him in your life. His werewolf senses threw a wrench in your plan, and he spun on his heel and came back to you. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you. His eyebrows were knit with worry, and he tilted his head slightly like the stupid fucking dog he was.

“How much longer? I can’t keep,” you looked around and lowered your voice, “transforming every night.”

Jack let out a breath he was holding, apparently relieved you weren’t about to continue your name-calling of your previous encounter.

“You’re done for this month, cariño. Three days a month. It’s manageable,” he said with a reassuring smile. He looked tired, even more so than you did. You wondered what he had been doing while you were having a meltdown and playing Doomsday Preppers: Werewolf Edition. 

You nodded, relieved in the knowledge that you would have a reprieve now.

Jack cleared his throat. “I know you do not want me around, but perhaps I could put you in contact with some others like us? It’s tough to figure out all on your own.”

“You want me to tell more people? Absolutely not!”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, I wanted to offer. Best of luck, y/n. I won’t bother you again. If you need anything,”  he said, ripping the receipt from his bag and snatching a pen from a cup on the hostess station, “Here’s my number.”

You stared at the scrap of paper offered to you, and hesitated before taking it.

“I’m not trying to impose on your life. I just want you to have help if you need it. No strings attached,” Jack said, filling the silence. You took the paper and shoved it into your back pocket. Jack gave you a tight smile and a nod, and left.

You weren’t given much time to ponder the interaction as the demands of your job quickly stole your focus away from Jack.

…

After work, after your commute home, and after your door fell out of its frame when you tried to enter your own home (you had forgotten it was no longer on its hinges), you were staring dumbly at your mattress-less bed frame. It took you a full minute to remember that your mattress was shoved against your basement door. You huffed, making your way to your couch, as there was no way you were going to bother with lugging your mattress up a flight of stairs after an 8 hour shift.

This was unsustainable. Your house was in shambles, your body scarred, and you were alone and ill equipped to handle any of this. You texted Jack before you could think better of it.

.

.

.

*Cue werewolf training montage*

Also cue Jack jumping up in down at excitement at getting a text.

“See, Ted? I knew she would text! I’m glad we stayed an extra night :D”

Feedback, criticism, comments, reblogs, and likes are all always appreciated. Please tell me what you think! I apparently forget about fics unless you guys hound (pun intended) me about them.

Tags: @starfirette, @nicolewithanee, @fangurldayandnight, @zakizigekwe, @for-bebbanburg, @missdragon-1, @howlingco, @arvalee-knight, @emiemiemiii, @spicydonut25, @sparkythefallen1, @girlymusiclover09, @pxl8ed, @littlenosoul, @lemmons1998, @may4ri, @i-am-iron-man-3000, @maxppt

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist lmk!

[no-144444]

the grid: when the media says something insane...

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req: Hi, I'd like to request a blurb about the drivers reacting to reader being talked bad about from an interviewer. Scenario-Interviewer: "Do you think the reason you lost today's race is because 'y/n' was here and had something to do with it?"

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

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Oscar Piastri: makes the interviewer feel dumb asf

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's breaking your record of competing in every lap so far this year? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

Oscar frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“I was just wondering if you count your partner, Y/n, as a bad luck charm now. This is her first Grand Prix, isn’t it?” 

He actually laughed in her face. “Do you seriously believe in shit like that?” he chuckled. “And no, it’s not her first, nor will it be her last.”

Danica stood, embarrassed. 

“Do you have any other questions?” he asked, polite as ever. She didn’t respond. “Thanks for the joke anyway, that was actually quite funny,” Oscar added as he moved onto the next interview, a bright smile on his face despite the poor race result.

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Lando Norris: insults the interviewer

“And how do you feel about the DNF today, knowing that it's cementing your loss in the Driver’s Championship? Is there any specific reason as to why you might’ve made that mistake? I did see some new faces in the garage today,” Danica asked.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to compose himself. “If you’re talking about my girlfriend, I’d suggest you just come out and say it, Danica.”

“Alright then, do you see her as a bad luck charm now? Considering this is her first race, if I’m right,” she asked outright. Jenson rolled his eyes beside her as Martin just chuckled. 

“Not at all, she’s here to support me and I’d much rather have her here for a day like today than a win. It’s called a support system Danica, I’m aware of the fact that you’re not a fan of those, but some of us actually benefit from caring about other people. And another thing, all of my bad races, you’ve been there. Maybe you’re the bad luck charm,” his voice cut through the tension in the cold Las Vegas air like a knife, and Jenson and Martin just started laughing as Danica stood there dumbfounded. “Maybe I should ask Sky to not bring you around as much.” 

He handed the microphone back and continued on with his day, then posted this later: 

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and 479,933 others

landonorris: idc if ur bad luck ur too sexy to let go of 🥴

comments are disabled.

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Lewis Hamilton: protective much?

“It’s Y/n’s first race in years, and yet you DNF for the first time in months, do you want to give us some insight to that?” Danica asked. 

Lewis’s eyebrow raised and an annoyed smile made its way onto his face. “What are you saying right now?”

“Well, it’s just strange that her first race in years, 2 to be exact, is the one you don’t finish.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that she’s bad luck or something?” 

“Is that what you believe her to be?” 

“Fuck no,” he scoffed. “She’s my wife, is what she is. I’m grateful that she’s here. I love to share my love of motorsport with my wife, and I don’t feel sorry for the media that she's been preoccupied with being pregnant and busy to be here for the last 2 years. I love having her come and support me, and I’m happy that I didn’t finish the fucking race, I get more time with my family now. I cannot believe you enjoy making shitty headlines like this. Danica, maybe just stick to fucking driving.”

With that, he walked away, and later made this post:

lewishamilton

liked by pierregasly, francocolapinto, and 2,393,932 others

lewishamilton: my good luck charms xx

comments are disabled.

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George Russell: flabbergasted that someone would have the audacity 

“Sorry about the result today George, do you feel like external factors made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Y’know, it’s been pretty tough all year with the car but it really felt like we pulled back to the top today, and it was just a shame that Lando went wide and pushed me into the gravel,” he shrugged.

“And you don’t see your girlfriend as a bad luck charm? It is her first race, right?”

He death-stared her for a moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, we just wanted to know how you react to knowing that it’s her first race and it’s also the race you DNFed in.”

“I don’t have a reaction,” he scoffed. “Your headlines are going to be written anyway, it doesn’t matter what I say. I don’t see her as bad luck or whatever rubbish you’re going to paint this as, and I don’t really care what you think about it. Anyway, it’s not like you have the monopoly on perfect races, Danica.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: awkward and insulted 

“Sorry about the result today Kimi, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Umm…” he trailed off, looking at George confused. George shook his head, silently telling him not to answer. “I don’t know what you mean?” 

“Well there were external factors, obviously, but also your girlfriend was in the paddock for the first time this weekend, correct?”

He nodded. 

“So do you see her as some sort of bad luck charm, or something?”

He pulled a face of disgust for a split second. “No, not at all. She went to every single one of my F2 races so I don’t see how she could have been bad luck here when she was not bad luck there,” he shrugged. 

“So she’s not bad luck?” 

He chuckled awkwardly. “N-no. Like I say, she was at every one of my F2 races. I think she is lucky, if anything.” 

He walked away confused as George reassured him that they were just fishing for headlines and to ‘not give them the time of day’. He was slightly worried that you would think you were a bad luck charm and quickly found you and showed you that you weren’t.

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Alex Albon: shocked. 

“Sorry about the race today Alex, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“Umm,” he kind of chuckled. “I don’t think so? I mean it was so wet so I’m not shocked that I went off.”

“But in the garage, do you think you would’ve been more focused if your girlfriend hadn’t been there?”

He just stared at her with a slightly shocked smile as she held the microphone to his face. “Did you actually just ask that?”

She didn’t answer, just nodding. 

“Well, why don’t we think back to every other race she’s been at this year. Monaco, Canada, Silverstone, Austria, and Baku, which were all my best races this season, apart from maybe Canada.”

“Yes, but today she was-”

“In the garage, the same as she always is. Wow, you’ll really do anything for a headline.”

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Franco Colapinto: Sassy asf 

“Sorry about the crash today, glad to see you’re ok Franco. Do you think this weekend has been a bit more difficult because of distractions or something new being in a paddock? We saw that it was your girlfriend's first GP this weekend, could she have anything to do with it?” Danica asked. 

He did a double take, staring at her. “¿Qué? Is that really what you think?” 

She shrugged. “It’s only a question.”

“It’s a stupid question,” he scoffed. “¿Por qué traería mala suerte? She has been at every race so far and I haven’t seen anyone complaining.” (Why would she be bad luck?)

“So she’s not bad luck?”

He laughed. “Do I have to repeat things 3 times for you to understand?”

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Logan Sargeant: angry

“Sorry about the result today Logan, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

He stared at her, then pushed the mic away from him. “I’m not answering stupid fucking questions about my girlfriend.”

And he walked off. And posted this later…

logansargeant

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, jensonbutton, and 345,938 others

logansargeant: let's not bring my girlfriend into this, yeah?

comments are disabled.

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Daniel Riccardo: plays it off. 

“Sorry about the end of the race today Danny, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

He laughed, thinking she was joking. His eyes widened when he realised she wasn’t. “You think I can’t race because my girlfriend is in the back of the garage?”

“It is her first GP, correct?” 

He chuckled. “No, no it’s not. She’s always there, and anyways, I’m in the car, it’s not like I have all the time in the world to stare at her ass or something,” he smiled. “I know she’s beautiful but I don’t exactly see her when I’m going to the straight at 200 kilometres an hour.”

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Liam Lawson: sassy man apocalypse 

“Sorry about the end of the race today Liam, do you feel like distractions made it more difficult for today’s race?” Danica questioned. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused about the question. 

“Your girlfriend was here for the first time, could she be a bad luck charm for the team?”

“I don’t think she is but I do know that your interviews make me feel pretty fucking unlucky,” he scoffed before walking off. 

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Charles LeClerc: laughs in their face

“Charles, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?”

He started laughing and didn’t stop for about a minute. He was as bad as Lando, to the point that Carlos had to actually walk him off the fan stage. He came back on, teary-eyed and smiling. “I think it’s quite funny.”

“Evidently,” Carlos scoffed. 

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Carlos Sainz: …

“Carlos, what do you think about the people saying that Y/n is bad luck in the garage?” Danica asked.

“What people are saying that?” he asked. 

“The media,” she answered. 

“Well they always have bullshit to say. I’m just surprised they had the balls to go after my wife,” he scoffed. “They’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“That sounds extreme-”

“It’s defamation of character and she’s my wife. Nothing is extreme.” 

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Arthur LeClerc: Won’t answer

“Sorry about the race today Arthur, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

“What a stupid question, no,” he scoffed before walking away. 

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Ollie Bearman: insulted

"Sorry about your race today Ollie, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her. "No. Why would she be?"

"It's her first GP and you DNF, if that's not bad luck I'm not sure what is."

"That's pretty rude," he scoffed. "Don't bring my girlfriend into this."

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Max Verstappen: guys…

"Sorry about your race today Max, do you think that your partner Y/n being here might be a bad omen?"

He stared at her, his eyes dark. "Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"That's bullshit, don't bring my family into this. If I have a bad race, I have a bad race, that's just how it goes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't for you to make headlines about and she's not here to just be a good omen. She's my partner and she's here to support me, that's it."

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Paul Aron: laughs in their face…

"How do you feel about the result to day, do you think things could've been different if someone wasn't distracting you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We saw your race engineer giving out to you and your partner Y/n for distracting you. Do you think she might now be a bad luck charm?"

He scoffed, laughing in her face. "Bullshit, someone turned into me and I didn't have enough time to react. Your headline can be about that, keep my girlfriend out of this."

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Jack Doohan: so normal about it! (...)

“Sorry about the race today Jack, do you think there are other factors, such as distractions, that messed up your race?”

He knew what they were trying to say. “Do you want to just say what you want to say to my face?” 

She was taken aback. “Do you think Y/n is a bad luck charm?”

He scoffed. “You’re seriously fishing for headlines when someone could’ve been seriously injured? That’s pathetic. And another thing, she’s not a fucking bad luck charm, she’s my partner, she’s not just a headline for you to fuck with.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[pokimoko]

Would you perhaps be able to do an AceFlux dog 🥺🙏(if you're still doing the pride requests ofc fhdgdgdg)

Of course I can do that! Here's an (absolutely not inspired by my own lil' critter whom I love and adore) ace-flux dog for you!

[redheadspark]

Could you do number 11 with Jack Russell from Werewolf By Night? 🐺

A/N - Thanks for requesting this! I hope you like it!

Crave

Summary - Jack knows what to crave, as silly as it is.

Warnings - Just fluff

“Amor?”

“Hmm?”

“We might have an issue, my love,”

You placed your book down briefly, being perched on the couch with your feet on the ottoman and a confused look on your face.  You heard Jack’s voice from the kitchen, having you tap your fingers on the top of your belly.

Your swollen, 8-month-old belly.

It might have been perfect timing to be pregnant during the summer, especially a summer that was rising in heat by the day.  Although you had a great perk in being able to work from home as a journalist and thing your maternity leave, you were still having to deal with the hot flashes and insane pregnant symptoms.  You never minded the constant walking around the apartment, chugging down plenty of water and keeping to the diet your doctor gave you, you still had moments of misery and uncomfortableness.  But you could get through it, solely because you were having your first child with your husband Jack Russell.

Who happened to be a monster hunter and werewolf.  Normalcy never existed for your unique family.

Jack was an amazing husband to you, the complete opposite of his monster hunter persona and the career he had.  He had to be ruthless and harsh, brutal and murder monsters left and right.  But with you, or with people that are close to him, he was kind and gentle.  He loved swooning you in the earlier years of your relationship, loving to take you to dinner every week and giving you his undivided attention.  You felt like the luckiest woman in the world, He made the ex-boyfriends you had look shameful. 

Being married to him for a few years after meeting you, things seemed too good to be true.  Now being pregnant and on the verge of giving birth, Jack was a nervous wreck.

He was happy to be a father, knowing that his old childhood was a bit rough and his family was no longer in the picture.  The tender heart he had seemed to shadow the darkness that he had lingered in his life, a darkness he vowed never to have affected you for your child.  He kept to that promise, from the moment you told him you were pregnant and the future you both had was now expanding a bit more.  

Months came and went, Jack making sure he did enough jobs that would bring the money that would cover you both for some time once the baby comes and some time after.  He would take a break from monster hunting when you went on Maternity leave from your job, and beyond that once the baby was born.  You asked him why, and he simply wanted to be with you and the baby for as long as he could.  He was going to be a great father, and he was already taking such good care of you.  Reading plenty of books and knowing the cravings you had, he stayed ahead of the game.

One of your cravings was chocolate ice cream.

You never wanted to be a needy mother-to-be, but there was something about chocolate ice cream that was beyond delicious to you and something you wanted to eat as much as you could.  Although you were staying on your diet with your doctor for as long as you could, you still have ice cream.  Jack never minded getting you pint after pint of ice cream. Jack even saw you at one moment on the couch, feet on the coffee table and your bowl of ice cream balancing on your 5-month pregnant belly.  You saw him watch you with a twinkle in his eye, you huffing at him.

“Don’t judge me,” you complained, already feeling the mood swing kicking in as you were clutching the bowl.  But Jack simply walked over, kneeling next to you on the couch and looking at you with so much love in his eyes it was heartbreaking for you.  How patient he was with you when you would cry or lash out, how consistent he was in helping you change your clothes or get in and out of the bathtub.

How much ice cream he got for you, just to make you smile.  

“I would never, not with the mother of my child and the love of my life,” He reassured you as he pushed some hair behind your ear, “I love you, all of you.  Even the chocolate bits of it,”

You giggled, tears in your eyes from his words of affirmation as he leaned in and kissed you, tasting the chocolate on your lips.

“Do we have any ice cream left?” You asked him coyly, seeing him peek his head out from the kitchen with a concerned look on his face.

“…maybe,” he said, waiting to see your face fall in defeat as he rushed over to you in the living room, “But I can get more in a few minutes after I clean up the kitchen—“

“Darling,” You interrupted him gently, seeing him go quite quickly as you scanned his eyes with a smirk.  You reach out for him to take your hand, his fingers lacing in yours instantly as you were eyeing him.

“I’m quite alright without Ice cream,” You reassured him, which in return made him look at you as if you slapped him across the face.  You had to laugh as he was finally smiling, almost like a wave of relief on his face as you spoke once more, “But I would like to go on a walk.  Your child apparently is quite active and I would like to get some steps in,”

Jack had to laugh as he helped you on your feet, kissing your forehead as he hugged you gently.  There were times you felt bad that you put Jack through the wringer, even with the longer hours he would put in and the plenty of times he would risk his life for his job merely to have money in his pocket, Jack never showed it.  He still loved you, all the crankiness that you brought, and the ice cream cravings as well.  You would love him ten times more.  

He pulled away and pecked your lips with his own, “I would still buy you ever pint of ice cream,”

You had to laugh, “Of course, my dear,” 

The walk around the block ended up being memorable, given that fact that your water broke and your son would be born 6 hours later

The End.

[darlingdekarios]

phases.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 2,373 content: Jack Russell x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, smut [dry humping, receiving fingering, unprotected p in v, cockwarming], kink(s) [biting, scent, breeding]

Jack's phases mirror the moon.

The moon reminds us that no matter how big or small, everything that can be seen has a cycle – a beginning and end, and everything in-between. For the moon it meant starting over anew each passing month, becoming brighter and brighter before fading into darkness – and even that was beautiful. For Jack Russell it meant forgetting oneself and becoming darker and darker, preparing for his next phase to commence and carry out so he could move on. No matter how much he disagreed, you always found it beautiful that he mirrored the moon. 

The full moon was coming within a few days and as always Jack was spending as much time with you as he could before he had to disappear. He’d taken advantage of your day off work to spend time with you at home, cooking you one of his favorite meals and spending the day curled up on the couch with you, your fingers laced through his hair as your fingernails scratched lightly against his scalp. His mind had already begun to darken, the other him becoming louder and louder as the days went on, and it was only you that could satiate his roaring mind – even if it wasn’t completely. 

Now, after a big dessert of peanut butter ice cream and brownies (chocolate made his stomach hurt), the two of you were wrapped up in one another in the comfort of your bed. Jack was trying to silence his mind still, a task that grew impossibly more difficult as he was surrounded by your scent – on the pillows and blankets, the pheromones seeping from you, the very air around him was filled with you in a way that was so impossible to ignore it was painful. 

He shifted the position again, turning you to your side with your back to him. Wrapping an arm around your middle he pulled you back into him, resting his chin on your shoulder. His voice was low and rumbled through your back as he spoke. “Sorry amor, I am just…restless tonight.”

You placed a hand over his on your stomach lovingly, intertwining your fingers and raising his hand to press a kiss to his palm lightly. Focusing was even more difficult when you put your lips on him, a fact that was accentuated by the twitch of his cock in his sweatpants, all-too aware that you were only wearing a tank top and one of his pairs of boxers. Turning his head to tuck his nose behind your ear he inhaled deeply, a low groan vibrating in his chest. “It’s okay, Jackie,” you breathed out, repositioning your hands on your stomach. He pulled you in closer, his erection pressed between you. “It’s just…your instincts kicking in.”

“Yes, amor,” he breathed out, his voice barely above a growl. He pressed a kiss below your ear, a gesture that was supposed to be sweet and gentle and instead sent a flood of heat to your core, wetness leaking past your folds coming with it. You heard him take in a deep breath behind you, a quiet whimper lacing his exhale as your arousal now filled the air. 

“What do…I smell like?” you pondered, his lips resting against your neck as he savored your scent. The question alone pulled another whine from him, having to speak about it somehow making it all worse. 

“Sweet…so sweet, amor,” he breathed out, nibbling on your earlobe lightly and nestling himself back in closer to you.

He began to drag his waist against you slowly, his throbbing erection running through the line of your ass repeatedly as you feigned continued interest in the movie – in reality, he was all you could think about now. He moaned again quietly at the pressure before he added a bit more, grinding his waist into your backside as he released a desperate breath. 

“So listen to them,” you whined, his hand on your stomach sliding away from yours to cup one of your breasts in his hand. He gave the tender flesh a firm squeeze, his thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple before he placed another kiss beneath your ear. 

“Cannot, amor…it is too dangerous this close to the full moon,” he breathed, dragging his lips down your neck slowly, swiping his tongue across your shoulder delicately. “I don’t want…instincts to take over too much and me to hurt you.”

To make your point, you rubbed your ass back into him, pulling a quiet gasp and a moan from his as his hand gripped your breast tighter. “But I need you.”

Your quiet whimpering nearly shattered his resolve completely, his hand leaving your breast to slide back down your stomach and dance along the waistband of the boxers you were wearing. You felt that he was sniffing the air to flood his senses with you some more in deep breaths against your neck, and while it used to embarrass you, now it only caused more of your arousal to leak down your thighs. After months you’d never gotten this close to Jack fucking you with the full moon so few days away, but based on his reminders every month as to how volatile he could be during this time…the prospect only interested you more and more. 

“Maybe it would help if you…if you talked about it. Tell me how you feel,” you whimpered as he slipped his hand further into the loose fabric, swiping his fingers through the slickness between your folds slowly. He removed his hand then, raising it up toward his face to inhale deeply before popping his fingers into his mouth, presumably running his tongue around them as he now rubbed his cock against your ass again.

“It makes me feel…primal,” he breathed out when he released his fingers, immediately returning them to your soaked folds to tease your entrance slightly again, still teetering on the edge of restraint. “Like I need to just…mount you. And take you.”

His middle finger slipped into you then, the subtle thickness of the digit stretching you slightly and pulling a moan from you. He pressed his lips against your shoulder again before he dragged them upward, nibbling into the flesh on your neck, a feat that took more restraint than he really had currently. You pressed back into him as he curled his finger into you, his name falling from your lips. He nibbled into the sensitive spot beneath your ear before whispering in a low growl. “And all of me wants you. Not just half.”

You reached behind yourself to rub your hand over the tent in his sweatpants, earning a quiet groan from him as he bit into your neck a little harder than intended. Instead of crying out like he expected you moaned louder, giving his bulge a squeeze to encourage him to keep going, still expecting him to stop at any moment. Instead, he added a second finger, pumping them into you in the way that always had you melting beneath him within minutes. Finding your breath before you lost yourself you gave one final show of desperation, one final verbal plea before you came undone. 

“Jack, please, I trust you, I know you…please.”

He released a deep breath then, the symbol of the thread holding him together snapping as he rolled you to your stomach and pulled the boxers down your legs, knuckles brushing along your skin as he went. When they were discarded away from the bed he removed his own sweatpants, one of his hands kneading into your ass appreciatively as he decided to test his strength. 

When he’d freed himself of clothing he leaned forward, trailing kisses up your spine before nipping at your shoulder. One of his hands grasped one of your thighs, encouraging you to slide that leg higher. He took position, straddling your thigh that remained straightened as he fisted himself. You twisted your torso to look back at him with a hooded gaze, your cheeks flushed and glowing simultaneously. 

He began to rub his cock lightly, sliding his hand from your ass cheek down to your leaking core to spread your folds and inhale another deep breath. Shaking his head to steady himself he leaned forward, running the head of his cock through your folds with a low groan. Unable to hold himself back more he thrust his hips forward, burying into you to the hilt as he rested his arms on the mattress on either side of your shoulders. 

“Que rico…” he moaned as you whined, this angle offering him the perfect entry to hit against your front wall and the sensitive patch behind your clit. When the head of his cock slowly massaged against the spot your walls clenched around him, pulling a deep growl from his chest as your hips raised off the bed slightly. One of his hands left the mattress, holding your waist to keep your hips raised so he could withdraw from you and enter again at this angle. When you cried out his name he leaned forward, pressing several kisses across your shoulders. 

He fucked into you relentlessly then, setting a quick pace of perfectly timed thrusts that caressed every inch of you. His thrusts were deep and bruising, his teeth repeatedly biting into your neck and shoulder as he finally gave into his instincts for you. 

“Oh, fuck, Jack,” you whimpered on a particularly deep thrust, his teeth finally breaking skin slightly – far from the first time that had happened and certainly nothing new to either of you. “You…you’re doing so good…”

The praise released a growl from his chest, his pace picking up harder and faster as his nails dug into your hips, his tongue lapping up the tiniest bit of blood he’d pulled from your shoulder to soothe the small wound before pressing a kiss to it. He kissed your upper back then, straightening back up to pull you onto your hands and knees, pounding into you relentlessly. 

“I can smell that you are ovulating, princesa,” he breathed out, slowing his thrusts slightly so he could focus on his words. “It makes me…crazy. It makes me want to breed you. I know that’s a crass way to say it, but, it is what I feel…” When you only moaned his name in reply, he took it as a sign that you didn’t mind his confession. “Makes me want to fill you over…and over…and over…”

His words trailed off as the solitary thrusts between words became too little, fucking you harder as you began to find it difficult to support yourself. Sensing your difficulty, he turned you over to lay on your back, hooking one of your ankles up over his shoulder so he could watch his cock disappear into your hot channel and witness the face of bliss that came along with it. Taking advantage of your parted lips he leaned down to kiss you, claiming your mouth with his tongue in a heated kiss as he thrusted harder into you, grunts leaving his mouth with each one. When he’d had his fill of kissing you – for now – he pulled away just as he connected a thumb to your clit, smiling at the way you threw your head back with a moan. 

“That’s what you want, cariño? For me to leave you with a womb full of my cum before I go?” he taunted and offered, rubbing fervent circles around your swollen nub to coax you closer to orgasm. “Tell me if it is and I will give it to you.”

You attempted to nod, opening your eyes to gaze into his only to be met by the sight of him shaking his head before he leaned his forehead against yours. He needed to hear it from you, a task that was daunting when all you felt capable of was screaming. “Yes, Jack,” you finally managed, nodding your head again for emphasis. “That’s what I want – that’s what I need. Please fill me.”

Your soft whimpers and moans and the way you asked so nicely for him to stake the most primal claim on you he desired unleashed him fully, his thrusts becoming desperate as he trailed kisses to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and suckling. You raised your hips from the bed to offer him better access which he gladly accepted, feeling your walls begin to clench around him. While neither of you were particularly holding yourselves back from moaning, or grunting, or growling, the noises were almost drowned out by the sounds of your bodies coupling – his balls slapping against you with each thrust and your slick heat accepting him with the most venereal of symphonies.

Within moments full of quiet appreciation and compliments from him in his native tongue he had pushed you over the edge, your vision clouding as you allowed his name to leave as a cry from your lips, a sound he took as prayer. With a few more thrusts of his own, now deliciously slick thanks to your orgasm, his hips stilled with a particularly hard thrust as he spilled his load into you, growling as he lifted his head once more to kiss you hard enough to bruise. 

When you’d both spent, he encouraged you back onto your side, nestling behind you again and sliding his softening cock back into your now cum-filled channel to keep warm. He buried his face into the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses into the various bite marks he’d left within his reach as he wrapped his arms around you fully. He felt your heart rate and breathing slow and knew you approached sleep, so he pressed one more kiss behind your ear before whispering.

“I am sorry if I wake you up soon to fill you again, amor.”

He didn’t need to be sorry, and you told him so before nestling against him more, resting your hands over his as you whispered quiet “goodnights”. Just as you’d known, nothing had gone wrong, and now you had confirmation of what you had felt all along -- all of Jack’s phases were just as beautiful as each of the moons. 

masterlist. marvel masterlist.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Forbidden Fruit

Jack Russell x Female Reader

Summary: Jack saves you after a vampire attack, and you may be more connected than you think.

Warnings: Memory Loss, Blood, Gore, Vampires, Werewolves in Disguise, Haunted Houses, Injury, Face-Holding, Jack Being Caring, Jack Ripping His Clothes Apart, Hurried Escapes and Thunderstorms

Notes: I've reached 2,000 Followers! Here's a fic that no one asked for to celebrate!

Word Count: 2.2k+

Tags: @skittle479 @letsby @bullet-prooflove

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Your eyes flutter open as the darkened structure around you shudders, echoes of thunder roaring off in the distance after flashes of lightning briefly illuminate your surroundings. The details of a grandiose room slowly come into focus, your memories of where you are or how you got here lost in nothing more than a fractured, blurred dream.

A single candelabra burning in a far off corner provides the only constant lighting in the room, revealing multiple portraits from different time periods adorning nearly every inch of its heavily papered walls. Something about how they hang seems off, an inexplicably unnerving quality they all seem to share that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s as if they’re all somehow staring back at you through faded, sepia tones as you try to blink away that last bit of fogginess.

You’d been here before… you can’t quite remember how or when, but you’re sure of it.

You rub your eyes and blink a few more times, squinting in an attempt to recalibrate your senses before sitting up against the wall behind you. A sudden rush of warmth draws your waning attention from your eerie environment, forcing you to touch the spot just below your jaw to find the source. The salt of your own skin forces you to wince; your dirty fingers stinging into a fresh yet foreign wound before you’re able to bring them in front of your face for further inspection.

Blood.

What the hell?

Another bolt of lightning strikes, highlighting the scarlet hue that stains your fingertips as they shake in what seems to be a form of stop-motion. It isn’t until just now that the pain makes itself known, throbbing in your neck and down into your shoulder, prickling at the most sensitive nerves closest to your exposed skin. You don’t remember falling or getting injured, or much of anything at all now that you really try to think. The last thing you manage to conjure up is leaving earlier that night to meet Andrea for drinks at a new bar across town, but after that it all seems to go dark.

Thunder crashes again, this time booming in your chest and rattling your bones just enough to spill a few drops from your fingertips onto the floor. It bends the wooden planks inside the walls that hold the building up around you, the cool static of the air making it feel more crowded as you accidentally smear your blood across its black and white tiles. You can tell that the storm is getting closer now, the pauses between strikes and crashes narrowing as the clouds creep across the blackened sky. It’s almost impossible to tell if it’s still night or if the storm has blocked out the sun entirely through the tiny window that hides behind a heavy curtain.

Before you’re able to lean forward to get a better look, you spot a shadowy figure moving near the doorway, stalking you slowly with a feral growl that nearly rivals that of the thunderous clouds up above. You feel your heart skip a beat as you watch it advance in your peripheral vision, hiding briefly in the darkened corners of the room with movements too erratic for your strained eyes to focus on. You catch yourself holding your breath as a growing sense of peril builds up in your body, taking over as it weighs you down and freezes you in place.

Instead of ripping you apart as the moonlight glows white in its eyes, it gently pats you down, hands palpating over your chest and abdomen before the shock of its touch eventually wears off. It’s calm demeanor allows you to breathe in again, your eyes relaxing just enough to take in the angles of the figure’s face as it crouches down in front of you. The flickering flames in the distance reveal his soft yet masculine features as they begin to twist with worry.

He’s just a man. Nothing more.

“Está bien?” The man asks in a comforting whisper, looking you up and down before ripping the bottom part of his shirt off and pressing it onto your neck. “You’re okay? Did he bite you anywhere else?”

“Wh…what?” You scramble to figure out who this man is and how you know him as he holds the makeshift bandage against your pulse, cradling your face with his opposite hand to keep you steady. His palms are surprisingly soft, handling you with great care despite his hurried nature.

“He bit you.” He points out, raising his eyebrows with a quick nod of his head to remind you. “Did you drink from him?”

“What? Him, who?” What does he mean, drink from him? What is he talking about? Who is ‘he’, and how does he know you? How did he get here? How did you get here? Where are you?

“Did you drink his blood?” He shakily re-words his question as he looks into your eyes, the dim candlelight accenting the greenish amber hue in his as he frantically searches your face for an answer.

If only you had one to offer him.

He sighs in frustration and smooths his thumbs across your lips, pulling them apart to look for any evidence of whatever theory he’s cooked up in his head. “It doesn’t look like it.” He examines your face from a few different angles before relaxing his grip on you, glancing back down at your neck before gently pulling the cloth away from your skin.

“That’s good,” he winces at the sight of it before forcing a smile, pressing the cloth back against you. Taking care, he wraps the bloody fabric around your neck just tight enough to stay in place as he quickly scans the room for another exit. “Can you walk?”

Heavy sheets of rain fall down from the sky as the two of you make your escape, weighing you down as you try your best to keep up with him as he scurries down the stairs. It dampens your hair and chatters your teeth, washing the dried blood off your neck and onto your shirt as the wet gravel crunches beneath your shoes.

“It isn’t going to follow us, is it?” You ask, not brave enough to venture a look behind you for reassurance.

The man shakes his head, pointing to an old rickety sedan parked just beside the entrance as the downpour darkens his salt and pepper locks, smattering them against his forehead. “It’s almost sunrise. We should be safe for now,” he makes his way over to the driver’s side, pulling a pair of keys out of his pocket. “But we should get as far away from here as possible.”

“For now?” You watch him crawl inside the car, leaning over to unlock your door before you nearly pull it off its hinges just to get in. You glare at him before quickly finding your seatbelt, pulling it across your shoulder as the cool metal buckle shocks the sensitive skin on your neck.

“For now,” he repeats himself. The engine pops and roars as it starts up, his nimble fingers turning the key in a bit of a panic as he looks behind you for clearance to back up. He flips the car into reverse, turning the windshield wipers on before peeling backwards out of the long gravel driveway until you’re suddenly on the dirt road that led you here. He silently shifts the gear into drive and pushes down on the pedal, speeding you through the pelting rain that doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

“So you’re saying that all that back there is … what, exactly? That it’s a dracula? Is that it? That I got bit by a real life v-v-vampire?!” You stutter, pulling down the visor to look in the mirror as you interrogate him.

“Exactly, that’s what I’m saying.” He keeps his eyes on the road as the headlights do little to illuminate your path, the deluge relenting a bit more the farther away you get from the mysterious building. “You really don’t remember?”

“No.” You take your time removing your bandage to assess the damage, hissing slightly as the cloth pulls bits of dried blood away from two deep puncture wounds that stare directly back at you. Stark reminders of whatever happened to you only a few hours ago, they seem to be scabbed over well enough to dampen your internal alarm bells, but they’re still way worse than you imagined. How much blood did it take? And why can’t you remember any of it yet?

“But you’re not one of them?” You try to confirm, realizing maybe a little too late that you could have left one dangerous situation only to fall into the next.

“No,” he reassures you, glancing in your direction for a split second. “If I was, the sun would turn me to dust as soon as it hit the windshield.”

“Oh, right.” Duh. That makes sense. You shake your head of your immediate suspicions and let your muscles relax, allowing yourself to settle into the worn leather seat as you notice a few more rips in your savior’s shirt.

“When is that supposed to happen again, exactly?” You look at your wrist and notice that your watch is somehow missing, reluctantly resorting to the clock on the dashboard as it flashes a dim green 12:00. 

Perfect.

“In about five minutes,” he smiles, randomly pressing a few buttons on the dashboard until Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rhiannon’ starts playing in a barely audible static. “I’m Jack, by the way,” he touches his chest with his belated introduction, calming you with kind eyes. “I probably should have said that earlier, but I…”

“Probably.” You smile back and tell him your name, shifting your weight in your seat to properly watch the sun rise through the darkened heavy clouds as the rain finally dissipates to a light drizzle. You never thought you’d be this relieved to see something as simple as a sunrise, but here you are, holding your breath until it breaks. Both of you end up exhaling in unison as the sun begins to paint the dampened sky warmer shades of gray, the lack of flames and dust in the seat next to you more than proof of your new friend’s identity.

“So, what now?” You whisper with the last bit of your expelled breath, hoping that he has some semblance of a plan.

“Now, I take you home so you can rest.” He squints to read a blurred road sign before you pass it. “Am I going in the right direction?”

“I think so,” you whisper, wiping your handprint over the misted glass of the foggy window to get a better view of your surroundings. You recognize the old barn you used to drive past on your way to the airport, followed by the old broken down truck in the driveway just a few streets down. But how can that be? How can you remember all of these places and inanimate objects instead of what brought you to them in the first place?

You lift your hips up and find your keys tucked into your pants pocket, pulling them out just to be sure that they’re yours. Your phone and watch may be missing, but you at least still have the comfort and security of your house keys. “Yeah, actually you are. Take this road until it tees into State street, then take a left.”

“You remember that?” He looks over at you with genuine surprise.

Well, do you? 

“I guess… I guess so.”

“Can you remember anything else?” His brows knit together in a mixture of worry and hope, as if the fate of the world relies heavily on your answer. “Enchantments like this can wear off after time, especially when done in such a hurry.”

You close your eyes and try to think back on last night, sifting through those scattered memories in hopes that the safety of Jack’s car will allow you the ability to successfully grasp onto those forgotten moments.

“He’s called Alistair, if that helps.” He turns the radio down so that even the static is now inaudible. “But may go by Alan or Al.”

“Alan, yeah, that sounds familiar…” You keep your eyes closed and recall a night club with a man named Alan whose eyes were so dark, their inky black hue nearly bled into his lashes in stark contrast against his pale white skin. You remember those eyes holding you fast from across the room earlier that night, or maybe even earlier that week, but that doesn’t really make any sense, now does it?

“I remember a tall man with black hair and even darker eyes?” You ask him for clarification as you open your own, hoping that what you saw was helpful.

“That’s him,” he nods, his full lips pressing together in a nervous fine line. “Has he been to your house?”

“I don’t think so.” You touch your neck again to remind yourself just how dire the situation is. “How would I be able to tell?”

“There are ways I can… things I can look for, to know for sure.” He turns the windshield wipers off as the sprinkle of rain finally disappears, allowing the sun to cast its pink morning glow onto his olive colored skin.

“And what if he has?”

“Then we’ll have to find another place to stay.”

”We?”

[fluffyprettykitty]

alteration

Pairing: Jack Russell x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: ~1000 words

Outline: He was your patient yet you were willing to become his whore.

Warnings: dark themes, dub/con, swearing, praise kink, biting, size kink, derogatory names, rough play, facefucking, breast play, sub!reader.

Author's Note: Reader works in the medical field, could be a doctor or a nurse whatever you want. It's dubious consent, with Jack having started to transform.

PS: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Jack Russell Masterlist

He growls.

The room feels smaller than what you remember yet bigger than you want it to be. You want him to feel closer to you.

Jack tilts his head, a bone-cracking, his eyes narrowing.

Sucks in a breath and lunges himself at you. His kind eyes had longed turned silver and his aura had longed gotten heavier. His grip is tight on you. Placing his hands on your body, feeling and groping your body part, however, he needs to. Hands sneak in underneath your scrubs, tasting the bare skin as his teeth are lunged at your neck.

He is forcibly marking you, leaving his teeth trail there for whenever he might need you again. Making you his own, his own brand of whore. He needs you to become his, to wear his mark, for others to know that now you are part of his, his harem.

He sucks your skin so deliciously that it almost makes you forget that you are not supposed to like this. Guilt overwhelms you as his hand gropes your breast, squeezing it while your eyes shut. Maybe if you can't see him, he is not the one doing this to you. You want to breathe him in, you want him to devour you and have you and it stings your heart to know you shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Jack..."

You try to mumble, to push him away but he only growls in response clearly angry and his lips crush yours in a way that makes you shut up. His tongue is battling for dominance inside your mouth as both of his hands are holding your breasts, tearing the fabric down. He is kneading you like his dough, preparing you for your meal. Oh, you wouldn't be able to handle him if you weren't dripping wet and he knew that very well.

"Y/N. My Y/N."

He whispers your name in a way that makes your gut shutter, his voice sounding deeper than you'd ever hear it. Half man and half beast as he is right now, the sound of your name on his lips echoes deep inside his heart making his desire grow stronger. He is going to have you, feel your every nerve and have you forget any one else.

"My beautiful, beautiful Y/N."

He presses a hand on your neck pining you still as his other hand tears the rest of your scrubs in search of your cunt. Your throbbing wet aching cunt.

"I could smell you for hours. Your cunt is so desperate to be touched, she was practically singing to me long before the moon changed. Haven't got anyone to fuck that pretty little thing huh?"

He chuckles, you know he does because he wants you to feel that shame, that urgency, that desperation. He is going to take you anyway but he wants you to beg first. It's not like you have a choice.

"Sitting in your room all alone, your pussy throbbing at the thought of anyone, perhaps someone like that sticking their big fat cock inside you and taking you any way they wanted?"

His grip on your neck is tight, barely allowing you to breathe but the way your pussy now visible to him, responds for you, clearly having a pulse just for him.

"Oh look at her." He smirks looking at you and then down at you. "She's begging. Would be rude not to stuff her. I am a gentleman after all. Do you think that pretty little thing could handle something big?"

His free hand is now caressing your pussy lips tenderly, teasing the skin, watching your juices grow and flow down your thighs. He begins to tease you, stroking you so softly while he's practically choking you which has your mind gets hazy and desperate to be filled.

You try to mumble something, push your lips together to make a sound but before you can even focus on catching your breath when his hand frees your throat, you watch him as he pushes the zipper down of his pants, freeing the biggest cock you could ever see. Where was he hiding this?

Leaking and standing in attention he studies you as your eyes grow wider at the sight, practically salivating for it. You shouldn't want him, not like this, but you'd fall down to your knees, crawl to him, just to have a taste.

And so you do, your body thinking ahead of you, dropping down to your knees, semi-naked, your clothes torn, reaching for his cock. That image jumped up straight from your most forbidden dreams.

"Good girl."

He smiles as you touch his cock, feeling it between your hands before darting your tongue out. You'd want to take your time, feel him down your throat but he doesn't let you. He pushes your head away and grips your chin.

"Beg."

He commands you and it works like a charm on you. You want to follow each and every one of his orders, anywhere he goes, you'd follow. He slowly strokes your chin with his thumb, his cock close to your face, leaking and throbbing.

"Please." You whisper. "Please, let me have your cock, I will take good care of it, I will clean it dry."

"Louder. Could barely hear you."

"Please, please, let me have your cock."

"Too damn quiet. I want the whole building to know you want my cock."

He is clearly not satisfied, he is shaking his head negatively but you have no time to react as he keeps your head still, forcing his cock inside your mouth and you can't help but gag at the sudden movement, trying your best to accommodate him.

"Now you look like my whore."

And by the end of your shift, you'd get fucked any way like one as well.

For updates please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and you could even turn on post notifications! :)

[heartsfromjeanee]

Drunken Love

Jack Russell x Reader

Summary: After a night of drinking with a new friend, Jack comes home after having more to drink than he could handle, and you take care of him A/N: I had just recently watched this short film (even though it came out in October oops) and I let me just say Jack is definitely going to be my new hyper fixated character along with Moonknight now

You were buried up in a blanket on your couch while hallmark movies played on the TV. You let out a soft sigh and glanced at the clock. 12:51 AM. You didn’t know why you were worrying so much. Jack had told you he was going out for drinks with his new friend…Jake was it? You could’ve sworn he said a Steven as well, but you couldn’t recall. You knew he was fine, but it was such a cold night and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your boyfriend.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Your head perked up from where you were laying at the sudden noise.

“Amooooor? ¿Estás aquí? Mi Amoooooorrrrr”

You could hear his slurred call from behind the door and you could instantly tell that your boyfriend way overestimated his drinking tolerance. You got up from the couch and quickly went to open the door to reveal Jack, who stunk of alcohol. His face lit up into a bright smile at the sight of you.

“Amor!” Jack exclaimed. His arms swung out wrapped them around your waist while his head took its usual spot it the crook of your neck. You could hear him inhale you sent and let out a satisfied hum. “You smell so sweeeeet mi amor, me encanta tanto.” He slurred into your neck.

While he clung onto you, he managed to close the door behind the both of you and lead him to the living room, where you had been laying moment ago.

“Honey how much have you had to drink?” You questioned curiously as you sat the both of you down. Jack began to place soft kisses on your neck mummering incoherent words as he trailed the kisses down to your chest. “Jack,” you placed a hand under his chin and removed his lips away from you skin so you could lift his head up to look at his face, “how much did you drink?”

“Mmmm Jake changed me to a drinking game at the bar…I, I definently beat him but he says he won.” Jack said with a slight pout, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. You ran your free hand through his salt and pepper colored hair and gave him a little scratch behind his ear, making his eyes flutter close with pleasure.

You leaned you lips to his forehead and placed a kiss upon it before declaring, “Jack I’m going to get you some water to drink and then we are both going to bed, you’re going to be exhausted in the morning. Stay here, okay?” You got up and began walking over to the kitchen. Though as you entered the room, you heard footsteps trail behind you. You turned your head to see Jack stumbling your way trying to catch up with you. “Honey why didn’t you stay on the couch?”

Jack was once again sliding his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. “I missed you.”

“It’s been literally 10 seconds.”

“No, you left me on the couch forever.”

“If you say so sweetheart.” You shook your head and smiled to yourself. Carefully, you dragged Jack with you to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. Then, you maneuvered over to the sink and filled the glass up with water.

“Okay time to go to the bedroom, love.” You said as Jack stayed attached to you as you led him around.

“Oooo amor those are my favorite words~” Jack whispered into your ear, and you rolled your eyes.

“Not tonight, Jack.” You scolded as you brought the both of you into your bedroom. You leaned toward the nightstand to place down the water before forcefully detaching Jack from yourself so you could get him onto the bed. You sat him up against the headboard and while you turned to grab the water, he began to take off his shirt.

“It’s too hot in here.” He whined while struggling to get his shirt over his head. Once he finally got it off, you moved the cup of water to his mouth.

“C’mon love you need to drink up. It will cool you off.” Thankfully, Jack listened to your instructions, taking a few gulps out of the glass you held for him. When finished, you placed the glass back onto the table where it was before, next to the bottle of aspirin you left there for the morning. You yawned as you walked over to the other side of the bed while Jack fumbled off his belt and pants.

You climbed into the bed and situated yourself under the covers, Jack following suit. He was quick to curl up into you, placing his head in the crook of your neck just as he had done before. Once again, he had been mummering sweet nothings to you as he kissed your neck. It only took a few more minutes before the kisses stopped and soft snores filled the room.

“Buenas noches, mi amor.” You whispered before letting yourself drift off into a peaceful sleep as well.

[writer-darling]

Systems (Part 3 of the My Werewolf's Keeper Universe)

Part 1 | Part 2 

Rating: T (13+)

Pairing: Jack Russell (Werewolf by Night, 2022) x GN!Reader

Warnings: Allusions and mentions of blood. Mentions of food, eating. More-than-friends-but-not-a-couple trope. Mutual pining. Descriptions of fear and anxiety.  Mentions of monsters. Distrust among best friends, tension (both sexual and non), mentions of injuries (non-graphic), mentions of anxiety symptoms, hyperventilating, mutual pining, hurt/comfort dynamic, mentions of weaponry (tranquilizer gun). If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 3k

Summary!: Set directly after the events of “Once,”

******

Jack tries his hardest to make things between you two better, and you have to admire his tenacity. He’s doing everything to try and put you at ease, making himself available for anything you might need from him. Other than that, he acts relatively normal around you, but there’s a new sense of disconnection between you two. On your end, you know it’s distrust. He’s blocked you off, at least partially, your entire friendship. Truth omitting or just straight up lying, you don’t have enough information to label it correctly just yet. But still, it hurts. It hurts way more than you were expecting. 

Granted, he had good reason to block you off from that part of his life. I mean how does someone spring “by the way I’m a werewolf!” on a best friend like that? It could never be a natural tidbit of information, no way. But, you had always tried to show up for Jack. To allow him the freedom to be open with you and not have to worry about judgement, just as he had for you. So what was it then? Did he just not trust you? Was he truly so worried that you would have run off screaming for the hills if you knew about his true nature? Whatever it was, it made him nervous. Well, more nervous than normal.

Much like he is now. You’re in the kitchen, putting away the groceries you bought around noon. The morning had been spent with both of you exchanging simple “good mornings” and breakfast bagels, but there had been that underlying tension that now seemed to drench every interaction you two shared. He’d snuck the usual glances at you, but the way he watched you felt different. It felt like he was analyzing you, just waiting for the moment you run off. He’s still watching you now, his eyes remaining glued to your form as you go about putting the mini cucumbers in one of the produce crispers while he places the Frosted Flakes box next to the box of pancake mix in the pantry. Now that his ruse is up, he’s able to travel throughout the house freely without having to pretend to lock himself up in his room for 72 hours. So, you took up his offer to help you out with the groceries. You’re regretting it now, wishing you had time to think. Though it’s not like you haven’t spent all hours of the previous night thinking. Your head is practically bursting from all the overstimulation. 

As you move to grab the Greek yoghurt, he leans over you to open the spice cabinet, shakers of ground cinnamon, cloves, and black pepper in one of his hands. You tense immediately, pressing yourself into the counter just as you turn to face him, tub in your own hand. His body is extra-warm as it hurdles you in place. You drop your eyes from him. Usually this accidental-unaccidental forced proximity between you both would make warmth blossom in your chest. Usually. The hurt on his face is clear, his eyes looking at anywhere but you as he moves away quickly, a quiet “sorry,” making its way past his lips, putting the spices beside you before he moves all the way across the kitchen. You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine and say nothing in response, both of you finishing up with a renewed speed fueled by awkwardness and shame.

As soon as you’re done, Jack is out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell, taking a granola bar with him for lunch. You sigh when you realize he’s gone and get to work, finding something simple to make for dinner. You choose something filling after reconsidering for a moment, since you really don’t know when or even if he eats once he leaves during the night. How much should you make? How fast do werewolf metabolisms work anyway? He had an appetite, he always did, but how much did the wolf eat in comparison to Jack? All valuable questions that you put into the back of your mind for now, fully intent on asking Jack about them later. You decide to make beef stroganoff, with a side of potatoes and a fresh salad. It’ll keep him full for the night you hope. 

You let your mind wander as you cut and dice and cook and boil and bake for the next few hours. Your movements are on autopilot as your busy mind tries to think about anything but Jack and what he’s doing. Most likely preparing for his next transformation tonight. Your brain replays the events from last night - yet again. It’s been doing that on-and-off all day. This time around, it chooses to focus on the cage you saw before he decided to tackle you. The way it was absolutely bare, no bed, no comfort in it. Not even a blanket. It had been a clear place for punishment. The chains, the dirt floor, the damp and cold of it all. The deep claw marks. Your stomach twists uncomfortably at that last image. You shake your head, but your brain doesn’t let you rest. A sudden idea pops into your mind and you decide to act on it, heading to the linen closet before going outside as quietly as possible, not wanting Jack to hear.

When you’ve finished with that and are back in the kitchen a couple more hours later, you serve yourself a plate full of food before making your way upstairs quietly. Once in the room, you grab your laptop from your bedside table and power it on. You decide to browse around for some job listing in town, having set up your resume through one of those job search websites. No offers yet. You turn on the TV, finding a two-and-a-half hour movie to watch as you eat and continue applying to local listings. The food is just as filling as you’d hoped, and the creaminess of the stroganoff and starchiness of the potatoes quickly puts you into a food coma, your laptop still on your knees as the end credits of the movie roll.

The sunlight filtering through the window wakes you up in the morning. Your laptop is now beside you, having tipped over while you slept. It’s dead, so you connect it to the charger as you grab your phone from your nightstand. No calls or messages from Jack, but you get up anyway, knowing where he’ll be.

Before making your way outside, you grab the throw from the living room, and then a pair of his slippers that he keeps by the front door.

The sound of oldies from the 1940s makes its way across the lawn to your ears as you begin your trek towards the cellar. The doors are wide open, and you make your way down the steps slowly, cautiously. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you spot him immediately, taking advantage of your idea from yesterday. The blanket covers him completely, and he’s sound asleep as you approach the cage. His face is open as he dreams, a soft snore slipping from between his lips. You notice though that even in his sleep, there’s that familiar furrow between his brows and his mouth is turned down in a slight frown. You watch him for a few minutes, not wanting to disrupt him from his sleep just yet. There’s mud caked under his fingernails, and his body (the parts of it you can see anyway) and face are covered in streaks of dirt and grime. His hair is a mess, leaves and twigs caught in the strands. You spot a bruise on his left shoulder, and then a deep scratch on his right calf.  The knuckles on both of his hands are swollen and purple. What the hell did he do last night? Before you have a chance to speculate, he startles awake. His eyes shoot open and he sits up, the blanket falling from his upper torso. His eyes dart wildly around the room as he begins to hyperventilate, his mouth agape as he breathes roughly. 

“Jack, Jack!” His eyes find you and you move closer. “It’s ok, you’re safe.” His features shift in confusion, his gaze hazy and unfocused. “Can I come in?” You ask. He nods, rubbing his eyes as his breathing slowly evens out. You cringe as the shrill creak of the door pierces through the relative calm of the cellar. He’s watching you again, his expression still holding fear. You move very slowly, shifting into a crouching position so you’re at eye level with him. “Are you ok?” He slowly shakes his head. He’s trembling. You grab the throw you brought from over your shoulder, placing it over his form. He curls it around his body. When you sit down on the floor, keeping a few feet of space between you, he quickly shuffles over and hugs you to him, curling his face into your neck. You don’t move, and he’s about to pull away, remembering. But you can tell he’s scared, his heartbeat fast against your chest and little huffs of panicked breaths ghosting over your pulse point. Slowly, you hug him, wrapping your arms around his body. At your touch, he holds onto you tighter, instantly melting into you and leaning his head on your shoulder.

“I’m ok. I’m just tired.” He mumbles into your jacket. You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it.

“Ok, do you want to go inside?” You ask. You feel him shake his head lightly.

“Let’s stay here for a few minutes.” So you do, sitting there with him. He smells like moss and dirt. But there’s also his scent underneath that, the cologne you always get him for his birthday that smells like musk and vevitier. Hints of citrus and leather. It’s so familiar, it makes your heart skip. You curl a hand into his hair. He lets out a long sigh, his breath warm but finally even against your skin as your free hand rubs up and down his back. 

Your mind begins to wander as your eyes scan the bleakness of the cellar. You realize then that if you didn’t know about his condition, then surely not many others do either. Jack was a solitary man by nature. Not unfriendly, but he kept a tight lid on his emotions around others. Now you know why. Still, you realize he must be much more lonely than you could have even imagined. Never letting anyone be too close. Never formulating a true connection. And that revelation breaks your heart. For you, of course, since you always considered him your most trusted friend. But for him as well. Did you truly know him? You liked to believe you did. But you still couldn’t be sure.

After a good 10 minutes, he pulls away, helping you stand. He keeps both blankets wrapped around him as you two walk back to the house after locking up the cellar.

“What did you do last night?” You ask him as you both walk across the dew-soaked lawn. 

“Had a job to do out in the woods: a fae got loose from our research facility and I had to track him down.” He says. He says it so nonchalantly that you have to laugh, shaking your head.

“What?” He asks, his expression light as he gazes at you.

“Nothing, just.. Man, I can’t believe all this.” You say, another sound - something between a chuckle and a scoff - coming out of your throat.

Inside the house, you are about to direct him to the bathroom.

“Why?” He asks.

“Well, you gotta shower first of all because you’re covered in dirt and muck.” He glances down at his covered body. “And second, I gotta clean up all those wounds on your-” You cut off as your eyes fall to his knuckles keeping the blankets close to his form. They’re red now, and barely swollen at all.

“Oh.” He says, calling you attention back to his face. “Don’t worry about my injuries; they heal on their own pretty well most of the time.” 

“Is that another wolf thing?” You ask.

“Yeah, fast healing.” He replies. You nod, pensively.

“Well, I guess that explains that time I swore I saw you break your ankle playing flag football with the Suarez boys but you were able to chase down Ms. Torres pig the next day.”  He goes red at the memory, nodding sheepishly.

“Yeah, I did break it that day, but it healed quickly. It was the day after my first transformation ended.” You nod, resuming your guiding. He smiles, following, and steps into the bathroom.

“Well, you still need to shower. Go, and I’ll get you some clean clothes from your room.” He stops you with a touch on your wrist. You turn back towards him and he drops his hand.

“I’m glad you know the truth now.” He says, his relief genuine. You smile after a moment, nodding.

“Me too.”

You place the clothing - a grey t-shirt, some navy flannel pjs, boxers, and a pair of socks - on the counter. You go outside, checking the mailbox at the end of the driveway. There’s a few letters all for Jack, and a fresh newspaper. You take your time walking back, and by the time you go inside Jack is in the kitchen dressed and cooking what seems to be french toast and breakfast sausage. He glances at you over his shoulder as you sit at the table, opening up the newspaper and laying the mail on the table. 

“I forgot to thank you for dinner yesterday. It was really good, thank you. And for the help this morning.”

“Yeah, of course. I wasn’t sure if it would be enough for you, but I figured there’s probably not a lot of places you can eat as a wolf. The help well, I just did what I thought would be best.” You respond, but your eyes remain glued to one of the front page headlines: 2 Dead in Forest Animal Attack. 

He calls your name and you call back with a “Yeah, what’s up?” As you look down at the newspaper in your hands, beginning to read the actual story.

“I have something for you.” The tone of his voice catches your attention. It’s quiet, and grave. You set the newspaper down on the table and turn to look at him, but your eyes immediately zero in on the gun in his hands. You hadn't even noticed it beside him on the kitchen counter, away from the hot stove, of course.

“A… hunting rifle? Gee, Jack you shouldn’t have.. You really shouldn’t have.” He knew you had an aversion to weapons.

“This isn’t a regular rifle. It’s a special gun I had made.” He reaches you and holds it out to you but you don’t grab it. 

“Don’t tell me there’s a round of silver bullets in here.” You say, only half joking. One corner of his mouth quirks up into a tiny smirk.

“No, it’s a tranquilizer gun. I want you to have it.” You meet his eyes, your hands almost reaching for it but you hesitate again. He nods in encouragement and you purse your lips for a second. You grab it but immediately set it on the table away from you. 

“Why are you giving me this again?” You ask him as you eye the body of the gun.

“I can be… unpredictable the morning after a full moon.” He explains, averting his eyes from you as he answers.

“Unpredictable?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow at him. He nods, returning his gaze to you and you can see that his eyes are dead serious.

“Sometimes I can recover in five minutes, other times it takes five days. It’s all still unpredictable. I’ve never hurt anyone. But, I don’t know where I am - who I am - until the adrenaline passes. And if you’re still willing to do this, this is my only condition.” 

“So… you want me to use this?” You ask, your voice already teetering on protest. He was your friend, there’s no way you could shoot him, even if he begged you. You didn’t have the heart to shoot anyone, let alone Jack.

“I want you,” he grabs your hand then and places it on the gun, closing your fingers around it with his own. You notice how his hand encompasses your own entirely, warm and firm around your grip. “to have a way to protect yourself.” Your eyes meet and you know there’s no negotiating this. He wants you safe, even if it has to be from him. Your gaze searches his, but there’s still no give in his intensity. Your eyes dart from him to the gun, then back again. “Please, it’ll give me some peace of mind.” After a beat, you nod, and his body visibly eases with relief.

“Ok.” He smiles, appreciative that you’re not fighting him on this too much, and drops his hand from yours as he turns back to the food at the stove. You’re left to contemplate this latest bit of information, turning the gun over in your hands. You finally take a closer look at it. It’s nothing fancy, looking like any old rifle to you with a rich brown butt, handguard, and pistol grip, while the rest of the body is a charcoal grey metal. There’s a scope attached to it, and in the chamber is not a bullet, but instead a small dart with a metal needle and a glass vial which contains a bright red liquid within it. Must be the tranquilizer.

“Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast ready.” He says, changing the subject. You can’t help yourself as you grin, familiar playfulness returning.

“Mmm, like a wolf.” You reply, standing up and placing the gun back on the table.

*****

No, I’m still not out of love with Jack Rusell, shut up. 

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