#gael garcia bernal x 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.

Jack Russell TagList: @jedi-in-crocs @kayleezra @amandanik23 @mandy-sings

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[nackrosor]

"A Tent for Two"

Pairing: Jack Russell x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, p*rn with plot, mutual masturb*tion, v*ginal fingering, handjob, oral sex kinda (fem receiving), scent kink (but he's a werewolf so it's not really a kink for him, is it?)

Synopsis: you've teamed up with Jack during the competition and you're now sharing a tent with him in the forest. The events of the hunt have affected you in more ways than one, some more peculiar and embarrassing than others. As you try to play it cool and hide your arousal as best as you can, you eventually find out that you too have quite the effect on him ;)

Word count: 5,7k.

A/n= another story I started writing with the intention of keeping it nice and short ending up being the longest one yet, wth 😩 but hey, I hope you'll give it a read nonetheless because I'm quite happy of how this one came out (I'll probably hate it tomorrow but for now I'm a proud mom). Anyway, if you've watched Werewolf by Night, you're the best and I love you, if you haven't go watch it and then come back here to read this filth, you won't regret it 🥺 ps: I know the title is shit but I had no idea how to name this story so bear with me. Love yaaaa xx

~ ~ ~ ~

When you begrudgingly agreed to participate in last night competition - literally forced by your parents to honor the family name by winning the bloodstone - you had no idea you would end up teaming up with the monster's friend to save said monster, the one you were supposed to hunt and then get rescued by the latter when his friend turned into a beast and went into a forced rampage and murdered almost everyone. What a freaking night! You still can barely believe all that has happened for real but also that you were able to get out of it alive.

On top of that, to add to the craziness and weirdness of the whole situation, there's the fact that you are now in the middle of a forest, sharing a tiny tent with Jack, the kind man who turned out to be a werewolf and... he's naked. Well, he's covering himself up with a cloak Ted, his friend, retrieved for him from the Bloodstone's mansion but under that? He's 100% naked and you can't pull that thought out of your head. You also cannot stop thinking about his werewolf form, how your body reacted to it when you saw him kill people left and right -who definitely deserved it, by the way- but also when he slightly twitched when you carefully grazed his cheek as he was on top of you pinning you to the floor. You literally can't think of anything else, especially not when you can still feel the consequences of it, being that uneasy dampness between your legs, which you can do absolutely nothing about, at least for the moment being.

Sharing a tent with a stranger - well, you could consider him an acquaintance by now, but still a stranger in most aspects - who has such a strangely strong pull on you, it's such an awkward situation and you're trying really hard to play it cool and not make it as plain as day to him how much he affects you and how the memories of his werewolf body pressing on yours make you feel all tingly inside.

Sure, you could just leave the strange duo and be on your way but you have no idea where you are or where to go; after last night you're more convinced than ever to never return to your parents house, you were never cut for the family business anyway. More so, you don't have the heart to just leave. It's been only a bunch of hours but you already feel attached to the two, especially to Jack and you want to make sure they're ok before you eventually part ways. You also fear you won't ever see him again after today so you're even more willing to fight off the uncomfortable inconvenience that is your arousal to spend a few more minutes in his company.

"Are you sure you don't want it?"

Jack's sweet voice interrupts your trail of thoughts and you turn your head his way. He's holding his cup of tea, hand extended in your direction.

"We weren't prepared to have a guest with us", he gives you an apologetic smile, "I guess we should get a third cup so we won't face the same problem next time... but now we could share mine, if you don't mind?"

You can't help but smile. He's such a kind guy. He's been showing you kindness since you met and peppering you with questions since he's woken up, asking if you're alright, if he hurt you in some way, if you're comfortable, if you're hungry, if you're cold... It made your heart flutter, honestly.

"I'm alright Jack, really. Go ahead, you need that drink more than I."

He looks like he wants to retort but then nods thankfully at you before he grabs the cup with both his shaking hands and brings it to his lips, taking a sip of the hot tea.

"You're still shivering...", you point out with a frown. "Alright. I'm giving you my jacket."

As you swiftly peel the jacket off of you, Jack voices his complaint, hands rushing up to shake frantically in front of him only to quickly move back on the cloak to prevent it from falling down.

"Oh no, please-"

"I don't wanna hear it. Just take it, Jack. You'll warm up faster."

The serious look you're giving him must be effective because he finally sighs and takes the jacket from you with a feeble 'thank you'.

"I think it's best if you wear it under the cloak..."

You notice his eyes widen for a moment before he looks away.

"I- yes, y-you're right. I will... erm- if you don't mind...?"

"Oh, sure. Go on."

You turn away, not without a certain struggle. You wouldn't mind taking a peek, damn you wouldn't mind doing more than that but hey, it's not the time for being a creep. Looking at him wouldn't even help your situation, it would actually make it worse. So you make sure your gaze wanders to the other side of the tent, where the zip is unfastened. You take a look outside. An empty cup lies on the trunk where Ted was sitting only until a few minutes ago, his cards discarded messily on the ground. From Jack's words when he talked to Ted before he left you understood that he was going on a sort of scouting mission inside the forest, probably to get a clearer idea of the area and how to get out of it in the safest way possible. When Ted returns, you're most likely going to part ways; the thought makes you quite sad.

Jack clears his throat and you turn his way.

"It's incredibly warm... thank you."

Your eyes land on him once again. You can see a small bulge on both his shoulders under the black fabric of his cloak but other than that, he looks exactly the same as before. Perhaps only slightly redder in the face.

"Don't mention it."

"Are you going to be OK without it?"

The fairly teared up shirt you're wearing is not exactly the best shield from the chill morning air but you'll survive. The cold is not your main issue, your mind is and right now it's attacking you with a very vivid image of your jacket's fabric clinging onto Jack's naked body. You wonder if it will take up his scent. Oh, you wish it will.

"Are you sure?"

His voice calls you back from your thoughts once again. You see his eyes trail down your torso, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he fixes his gaze back on your face. You unconsciously cross your arms on your chest and freeze imperceptibly when you feel the small bulge of your turgid nipple against your arm. Damn. Has he noticed? You hope he hasn't but his flushed face tells you otherwise... or maybe it's because he's feeling warmer already? Nonetheless, you feel a growing heat in your lower belly and the uneasy feeling between your legs getting even more uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, Jack. Don't worry about me." Again, you try to play it cool by smiling at him nonchalantly.

"I don't want you to catch a cold because of me..."

You roll your eyes and playfully shake your head at his words.

"Jack! Stop it! I'm not afraid of a cold. Anyway, the air is not that chilly anymore. The sun rays are getting warmer."

He casts a brief glance outside, lips curling up in a soft pout.

"Yeah... but we could keep each other warmer if you come closer."

The genuine and innocent look he gives you makes his words more allusive than he probably meant them to be. Hell, he's so adorable and he literally has no idea what he's doing to you.

You're silent for a moment, torn on what to do. You would love to get closer to him, feel his warmth against you, maybe even lean on him. At the same time though, that uneasy wet feeling in your core makes any slight movement a real torture. If you try to move your legs the least possible maybe you can make it, though.

"Alright." You eventually sigh and scoot over toward him, until your shoulders touch. You can instantly feel the warmth radiating from his body and unironically a shiver runs up your back as a result.

"See? You're shivering too." He promptly points out and hops even closer, fully pressing his arm against yours.

The sweet smile he gives you makes your heart flutter in your chest, tighs pressing together even tighter.

"Thank you."

He raises his cup and takes another sip before extending it to you once again. This time you gladly accept it with a quick nod and take a long sip of the hot, surprisingly tasty beverage.

"Better?"

"Better."

His kind gaze lingers on your face, a soft smile hovering on his lips. His facial features are so eye-catching up close. The make-up he's wearing makes his unique beauty stand out even more. You can't help but stare in awe at him.

"What is it?"

"Uhm?"

A light chuckle escapes his lips and you feel your stomach swell at the sweet sound.

"Have I got something on my face?"

"Oh, no...", you smile softly, keeping your gaze on his face, "I was only admiring your... make-up."

"Oh? Do you like it?"

"Very much."

Feeling particularly bold, you lean forward, moving your hand on his cheek to gently trace the white dash lining his jaw with your fingertips.

"Does it mean anything?"

"Uhm-", he clears his throat, slightly alarmed eyes fixed on your dangerously close face, "n-not exactly. It's a simple design my ancestors would usually wear in battle and I wanted to honor them."

"Well, I don't know about your ancestors but it looks very good on you."

His lips curl up in a cheeky smile which you immediately mirror.

"Thank you, Y/N. You look very good too... I mean-", his eyes widen, heat flushing in his cheeks, "your make-up looks very good, too."

You smirk at him, fingertips tapping lightly on the dash on his chin before you pull back.

"It's nothing like yours but thank you Jackie."

The way he shyly smiles as he looks away makes you want to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss but you try your best to keep your hormones at bay. You don't want to make things even more awkward than they already are. What if he's not attracted to you as you are to him? That would be awful.

You shift uneasily on your bottom, subtly stretching your tensed legs. You can clearly feel your juices slipping out to damp the fabric of your underwear and hurriedly press your thighs back together.

Your head abruptly snaps to the side when the sudden sound of Jack sniffing the air startles you.

He awkwardly glances your way for a brief moment before he averts his gaze, a strange expression on his face that you can't quite decipher.

"What is it?"

"N-nothing."

"Jack... What is it you smell? Has someone followed us here?"

"No, no...", he trails off, glancing at you before looking away once again, "I-It's your scent."

"My scent?"

"Yes. It's very... strong."

"Oh?"

He looks uncomfortable which makes you feel uncomfortable as well. Can he smell any kind of scent even when he is not actually in his werewolf form? You actually have no idea how that works but it makes you incredibly conscious of yourself.

"Well, I mean... I sure need a shower. I'm sorry if it's bothering you. I'll just move back down there-"

You're about to slide back to your previous seat to put some distance between you two but he immediately stops you, gently but firmly grabbing your arm.

"No! Don't! I-It's actually a quite pleasing scent." His adam's apple bobs again as his eyes widen a little. "It's... very sweet."

"Is it?"

Your eyebrow quizzically quirks up as you eye him, confusion written all over your face.

He takes another sniff, more subtly this time but you notice anyway. It's strange to have him sniff the air for your scent but also weirdly attractive, somehow.

He glances at you with that same awkward expression, teeth coming down to graze his bottom lip.

"Too sweet."

He whispers those words as if talking to himself but you're able to hear them and a chill runs up your back.

"Are you...", he stops to swallow, "...by any chance..." He trails off, gaze wandering down your body before shyly setting on your face once again.

Your confusion only grows hearing his nonsensical question.

"W-What do you mean?"

His doe eyes roam over your face. You can feel how tense his body is now, it's like he's trying to hold himself back.

"Mierda..." he hisses in a whisper, shaking his head and averting his gaze.

"Jack, what-"

You gently place your hand on his arm but as soon as you touch him he jerks away and stands up abruptly, inadvertently knocking his still half-full cup of tea down on the ground, making the liquid spill all over the grass and on your feet.

"!Maldición¡, he mutters through his teeth as he instantly crouches down to retrieve the cup, "I'm so sorry Y/n, so sorry-"

"It's fine Jack, really-"

He grabs a corner of his oversized cloak and tugs it down to wipe the wet fabric of your boots, an incomprehensible muttering of spanish words leaving his mouth. You lean forward and take his hands in yours to stop his frantic scrubbing.

"Jack, relax."

He looks up at you with that doe-eyed expression of his. He looks like a deer in the headlights and you wonder what has gotten him so scared and tense all of a sudden.

"I apologize for ruining your boots, I'm-"

"Forget about them, I don't care if they're ruined or not", you interrupt him, squeezing his hands to make sure he listens to your words, "are you OK?"

He swallows dry, wide eyes roaming over your face. His mouth opens and closes as if he's unsure of how to answer.

"Jack?"

You're more and more confused by his behavior. What has gotten into him all of a sudden? It all happened so fast, you have no idea what to think of it. You're really trying but failing miserably to understand what is going on.

The soft trembling of his hands makes you lower your gaze. Your attention however is quickly caught by his cloak which falls slightly open at the level of hips, enough to show his quite evident erection. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, a jolt shakes your stomach.

He follows your gaze and immediately tears himself away from you, standing up and rushing out of the tent while his shaking hands tug at the two ends of his cloak and cross them one on top of the other to fully cover himself.

You're too stunned to speak. Your heart is thumping hard in your chest, the wetness pooling relentlessly between your legs.

You understand now why he was so tense. He was trying to hide his erection. But how did it happen? When? Probably when he was sniffling your scent. That definitely explains his peculiar reaction to it.

You look up. He's standing in front of the now dead fire, his back facing you.

"Jack?" You try to call him but he doesn't turn. "Jack, please..."

He hangs his head. You can hear his deep shaky sigh from where you're still sitting in the tent.

"I'm desolate Y/n, that was...", he groans, shaking his head, "You shouldn't have seen. I'm so sorry."

You can't bear to see and hear him so disconsolate. He's being so hard on himself but he hasn't even done anything wrong. He's embarrassed, you understand the feeling. You've been feeling like that the whole night until only a few minutes ago but now that you know that he's just as aroused as you, well, you can act on it, can't you?

You set your eyes on the back of his head as you move your hand on the inseam of your leather pants and drag down the zip. You do it as quick as you can to make its sound louder. You then peel off on leg after the other and toss your trousers to the side of the tent, making it shake.

You see Jack flinch. If he had wolf ears, they would definitely perk up now. He hasn't turned yet, though so you continue at your attempt of luring him in by spreading your legs wide. A soft moan escapes your lips when your fingers slide through your folds from over the drenching fabric of your panties.

The sound you make instantly propels Jack to turn around. His eyes open wide at the sight in front of him. You smile up at him while you brush your fingers up and down your folds a couple of times before you abruptly press your thighs back together.

He stumbles forward, a confused look on his face.

"Now you've seen me too", you say calmly, crossing your legs and leaning back on your hands, "I am aroused just like you but you knew it already, didn't you?"

You can clearly see his adam's apple bobbing up and down, eyes wandering all over your body, lingering especially on the area you're now so cruelly hiding from him.

"So, are you... coming or not?" You smirk at him, one eyebrow quirking up, "Ted might come out of those trees at any minute now."

He seems to finally snap out of his trance and rushes the remaining steps that separates him from the tent. He crouches down as he enters, then falls on his knees in front of you.

"Y/n..." he whispers, his voice shaky, "...are you sure?"

You lean forward, hand moving on his face to cup his cheek. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into your palm, taking a long shuddering breath.

"Aren't you?"

He doesn't even need to think about it, he eagerly nods his head in response, pleading eyes setting back on your face.

A wide smile spreads on your lips that you barely contain by biting your bottom lip. You draw him toward you, slowly as to fully savor the feeling of anticipation. He is however quite impatient and rashly leans forward, lips only barely grazing yours as you quickly pull back with a smirk, causing him to huff in protest. The hurt look he gives you goes straight to your core and you wish you had the time to tease him a little bit longer but time, alas, is against you so you move your hands to the back of his neck and pull him toward you, laying your mouth on his. He immediately responds by deepening the kiss, calloused hands finding your sides and squeezing them.

You thread your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, keening in his mouth when he moves his palms between your thighs to push them apart and pull you closer against him. With a suddenness that surprises you, he gropes your clothed cunt, hand stroking up and down, feeling your arousal. Your hips buckle upward on their own seeking for more friction which Jack generously gives you by pulling the drenched fabric of your underwear to the side and slipping his fingers inside your folds.

Your head spins at the long-awaited touch you finally receive, kiss turning into an open mouthed caress as you pull back a little, a satisfied moan leaves your lips and gets muffled by his.

When a moment later you recover some lucidity, you mirror his actions, hand sliding down his back and delving under his cloak. He breathes a harsh breath of air as you wrap it firmly around him, the shudder you cause in him and the drunken look he gives you, makes your stomach flutter.

He’s rock hard in your hands, head wet with precum. You teasingly slide your thumb on the top of it, smearing the thick fluid to ease your movements along his length. You feel his hot breath against your lips as a guttural moan escapes him, his eyes fluttering close, brows furrowing. A proud and delighted expression spreads on your face which quickly turns into a frown when Jack reciprocate your attention by swirling his thumb on your clitoris, not before he dipped it into the wetness at your core. It’s your turn to moan and shudder and it’s his turn to stare raptured at your face as you contort in pleasure.

“Jack”, you choke out, your voice a little more than a whimper upon his mouth, “it feels so good…”

He bites his lip as he nods softly, eyes lowering on your moist lips.

“I know, cariño” he whispers, laying his lips on yours in a messy open-mouthed kiss before he trails them down your chin and along your jaw, eventually diving into your neck where he lingers to relish in your heady scent. His fingers in the meantime increase their speed around your most sensitive button, making your head spin. Your movements get faster too, hand sloppily stroking up and down, occasionally squeezing his swollen balls then sliding up to swirl around its head, action which you noticed, causes Jack hips to shake more prominently.

His groans are music to your ears and add to the coiling pleasure growing in intensity in your lower belly. You feel the knot is about to snap and Jack must feel it too because he abandons your turgid nub to slide his fingers along your slit and slip them into your heat. A broken cry leaves your throat and blends with his groans.

“Come for me, mi corazón…” he whispers in a breathed caress against your ear, the hoarseness of his voice goes straight to your core, just like the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin and sinking down in the crook of your neck makes you shiver. His fingers thrust relentlessly back and forth, hitting the spongy area deep inside you, while your hand works up and down at a sustained pace. You feel him getting more and more tense against you, his labored breathing warming the side of your neck.

“please, Jack...”, you plead in between pants, "...please, let me look at you!"

You bite your lip while he repeatedly pecks your skin in his climb up along your neck, until his lips linger inches away from yours, gazes finally locking.

Your stomach swells when you see the pure image of lust displayed on his face with his flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. The piercing look he gives you with his heavy lidded eyes, together with the umpteenth twist of his fingers deep inside you mark the reaching of your limit, as you’re dragged over the edge, a wave of pleasure washing over you and a loud throaty sound escaping your lips.

His fingers keep caressing you with the most gentle of touches while he places his other hand on top of yours to help you sustain the steady but now slackening movement of your strokes along his length. As you catch your breathing, you fix your still half-closed eyes on his face, wanting more than anything else to witness the way his beautiful features will contort in pleasure when he reaches his own climax. And you do, only a few strokes later; his eyes squeeze shut, lips part to let out a long shaky whimper, hips buckle forward as his hot semen spills over the inside of his cloak.

His palm loosens its pressure on your hand and you continue to caress his cock, squeezing softly its head as you ease him down from the orgasm, until he becomes too sensitive.

Jack's head slumps down, forehead coming to rest against yours, his hot breath a caress on your cheekbone. His hand moves on the side of your head while the other slides down to hold your waist.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, relishing in the warmth of his closeness and the still lingering tingling feeling spread all over your body.

A moment later his lips press gently on your cheekbone, nose trailing over your skin as he takes in your scent. The light touch of the tip of his nose against your neck tickles you and makes you jump a little, a chuckle falling from your lips.

"Jack stop!", you try to untangle yourself from him but he holds you still while he continues his sniffling descent, passing over the swell of your breasts, your dishelved shirt, coming to a halt on your pelvis. He presses his nose on the fabric of your underwear, right above your center and takes a deep breath in and hums in satisfaction.

You've pulled yourself up in the meantime, your eyes following his every move. The way he looks so pleased, apparently enjoying the way you smell makes your stomach swell. You've never had any guy smell you like that and normally you would consider it a very weird thing to do but he's making it look so sexy.

"Jack?"

He looks up, big puppy eyes locking with yours. A shy smile forms on his lips.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I can't seem to resist", he leans forward to breath in your scent once more, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, "the way you smell is intoxicating."

"Fuck" you huff, teeth sinking in your bottom lip, "that's so hot, Jack... but damn, you're getting me even wetter and my underwear is so soggy already." You groan at the uneasy feeling of the cold damp fabric of your panties tugging to your dripping folds.

He hums softly, fingertips brushing the laced fabric of your underwear, until they find the hem and hook in it as he looks up at you, an earnest look on his face.

"I can help you with that."

You don't answer but your eager expression is enough for him to pursue his intentions. He carefully peels off your panties, sliding them inside the pocket of your jacket. He then bends down and dips his nose in your folds before he takes a solid stripe down your slit making you shudder involuntarily.

"Oh, bloody hell!" you blurt out in a loud moan as you fall backward on your elbows.

Jack swirls his tongue around your clitoris, collecting the liquid gathered there before he dwells hungrily at your core, sucking up all your juices. He's slow with his licks but thorough, jealously cleaning your cunt from every drop of the fruits of his hard work.

Your head is spinning, the knot in your lower belly tightening again and you think you might soon come a second time if he keeps moving his tongue like that but a rustling sound of foliage shaking reaches your ears and makes you jump, head snapping in direction of the source of the noise. Hard steps growing closer can be heard only a moment later and your alarmed look meets Jack's surprised face.

"It's Ted!" you mutter through your teeth. Jack only nods in response and wipes his mouth on the arm of his cloak as he quickly hops up on his feet, not before casting a brief forlorn look at your cunt, then he hurriedly rearranges his dishelved cloak and places himself at the entrance of the tent, giving you cover, privacy and time enough to recompose yourself.

You're still fumbling with the legs of your trousers when you hear Jack's voice, welcoming back his friend and Ted replying in incomprehensible grunts.

In your agitation and hurried state, you're not actually able to follow their conversation, only hearing fragments of sentences here and there and a lot of different pitched grunts from Ted's part. You think you hear Jack mentioning your name at some point but you forget it as you zip up your pants and quickly brush your hands on your hair to make yourself presentable.

When you're done and ready you sit back on the ground and wait for their discussion to end. Luckily you don't have to wait a long time, in fact, only a couple of minutes later you see Jack tilting his head to the side to throw a furtive glance inside the tent. Your eyes lock and you smile cheekily at him. It takes all the will in him to not mirror your smile as he turns back to face Ted and say, "let's see if she's woken up now, so I can ask her."

You stifle a laugh at his words; what a good liar he is! He could almost convince even yourself of having slept through the whole thing, your sexy time with Jack being only a dream your mind fabricated in the excitement of last night's events, if only you didn't still clearly feel on yourself the very unforgettable touch of both his fingers and tongue. Your mind could never make up such bliss.

Jack pops inside the tent and crouches down at your level. A grin soon forms on his face and you let out a chuckle you were so hardly repressing.

"I am fully awake now, Jackie", you tease him, crossing your arms on your chest, "let's hear what you have to ask me."

His grin falters slightly but he keeps smiling at you while his cheeks flush red.

"Uhm, well-", he averts his eyes for a moment, fingers moving to the side of his head to scratch nervously behind his ear, "we've talked, Ted and I, and-" He trails off, looking like he's trying really hard to choose the right words to best phrase what he means to tell you. "We don't know what you plan to do now. You've mentioned how problematic your relationship with your family is and after how the competition went, perhaps you don't intent to return home. Or perhaps you do, I'd totally understand if-"

"No, I'm definitely not going back."

He's taken aback by your confident answer at first but then quickly nods in understanding. "Of course. Do you know already where else to go?"

You haven't thought about it yet. Beside your family you must admit, you don't have anyone else. Those who you erroneously call friends are in fact family friends, not yours, you couldn't ask them to help you even if you wanted to. Elsa is probably the only person whom you've ever had a genuine relationship with, but you've grown distant during the last years, you've only met last night after a very long time and you don't feel like asking her to host you, even if she actually might agree to it. Then again, you're not really euphoric at the idea of living in that horrendous mansion, especially after last night events.

"Not exactly", you admit with a sheepish smile, "I'll have to come up with something."

He nods slowly, looking pensive. Taking advantage of his temporary hesitation with words, you lean forward and take his hands in yours, lips curling up in a small smile.

"You don't have to worry about me, Jack. If you and Ted have to go, don't let me keep you."

You know already where this conversation is going. There's a very hurtful goodbye coming and even though you knew this moment would come eventually, it's nevertheless hard to face it.

"Of course I worry about you...", he whispers vehemently, squeezing your hands, "...and that is exactly what I am trying to say." He sighs, lowering his gaze on your interlined hands before setting it back on your face with more confidence.

"You don't have to leave, if you don't want to. You know... Ted and I share a small cabin in the woods, which is not that far from here. It's not much but it's homey and comfy, and very clean. We both like to keep things tidy. And there's actually enough space for a third roommate if you-"

He cuts himself short as soon as he notices the stunned look on your face.

"A-are you offering me to move in with you?"

"Well, I-" he stutters a little, panic growing on his face, "I know it sounds absurd since we barely know each other but-" He takes a deep breath in an attempt to ease his agitation. "Yes. Yes, I am. You've helped us last night, now let us help you, Y/n. We're simply offering you a roof over your head. You can leave as soon as you find a better accommodation, if that's what you'll want."

The earnest and genuine look he's giving you makes your heart melt. You can't believe how kind he is, how caring! You're sincerely touched.

You can't resist the urge to surge forward and throw your arms around his neck. He puffs out a breath of air at the impact but immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"That's so sweet of you, Jack! Thank you so much."

"Is that a yes?"

You pull back a little, eyes locking in his.

"You had me at 'we both like to keep things tidy'. It's a huge yes!"

He laughs heartily and you secure that sweet sound to memory, taking a note to yourself to make him laugh again as soon as possible.

"Then...", he hops up and extends a hand your way, "...shall we?"

You can't suppress the big smile that spreads on your face and eagerly take his hand, letting him help you up.

You follow him out of the tent. Ted is waiting by the firewood, his cup and cards nowhere in sight. He slowly turns around when he hears your steps approaching and his red stare immediately falls on your interlined hands. His eyes then dart from his friend's face, to yours and back to Jack's. He grunts once at Jack then a low, chuckle-like sound comes out of him.

"Oh, shut up." Jack rolls his eye at him but fails miserably to suppress a chuckle of his own.

You turn to him and he does the same. You feel him squeeze gently your hand, his eyes roaming adoringly over your face as he grins at you.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your heart thumpers loudly in your chest. You can't express how happy you are so you simply mirror his grin and squeeze his hand back.

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[chaotic-good-hippie]

Recuérdame 

Pairing: Jack Russell (MCU) x FemReader (she/her) | SoulmateAU!

Summary: After losing his soulmate a little over a century ago, Jack has long forgotten about love, unable to move on. One night, in a nightclub, life gives him a second chance.

Warnings: Age gap (I mean, the man is 357 here), if you squint your eyes there are some sexual innuendos at the end, mentions of death, non-descriptive reader (but reader does drink tequila at some point)

Translations: Corazón (endearment term) - Heart | Mi vida - My life | Amor mío - My love | Querida - Dear | Por favor - Please | Te amo - I love you

Inspire by: "Recuérdame" cover by Natalia Lafourcade ft. Carlos Rivera

Tags: @littlenosoul | @bitchyglitterfox | @lilpunkrock | @kingtwhiddleston

«How terrible it’s to love something death can touch», especially if one is immune to it. Jack knew from the moment their eyes locked with each other's that he was bound to lose her eventually, that someday he’d have to watch her die, and there was nothing he— or anyone else— could do about it. He convinced himself he'll be prepared for it, let her go in peace when the time came. But heavens, did he underestimate how cruel destiny could be. 

She started coughing on Monday morning, and by Wednesday night, she was gone. Jack couldn’t understand how it all happened so fast and why life had been so vicious with them both. The doctor, the best money could pay, said it was just the flu and that she’ll recover in days without further problems; yet, Jack could feel her slipping through his fingers with each passing hour. The cough gave place to a burning fever that forced her to bed, and by the next morning, she had trouble breathing as she came in and out of consciousness. 

Desperate, he called every doctor, nurse, and healer in town and begged them to save his dear wife's life in exchange for whatever riches they desired. They tried everything their knowledge and skills allowed them to cure her and, at the very least, ameliorate the symptoms, but it was useless. He could see it in their faces, in the way they avoided certain words around him and their worried glances towards her. 

Wednesday afternoon, everyone was sent home at her request, leaving them all by themselves in the mansion they had shared for seven blissful years. Enveloped in the darkness of night, the halls and rooms felt cold and devoid of life, the only sign of their presence coming from their bedroom: The faint light of a candle. It stood up by her bedside table, lighting up her wan face as he sat on a chair next to it, his head resting on her abdomen. 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out as a breathy whisper as her tender fingers scratched behind his ear. “I’m terribly sorry, my love.” 

“Don’t be; it’s not your fault.” It took everything in him not to break down into a puddle of tears and a mess of sobs. “You’ve been nothing but good to me.” 

"Promise me you'll find another to keep you company." The request caught him off guard, his teary eyes turning to her in disbelief. "You're too pure for this world, my love. I'm afraid to leave you for all those terrors out there to feast upon you."

"Corazón, mi vida..." He took her hands between his to kiss her knuckles, his heart shattering into a million pieces inside his chest. He couldn't believe that even in her last moments, she was worried about him, the utter devotion and love she had for him. "I... I can't. I could never..." 

"Jack, please, please." How could he deny her anything when she looked at him with such profound despair? "I want... No, I need you to be happy. I'll always be with you, no matter what; whenever you may be, I'll follow... But you can't be on your own for who knows how long, my love. I don't want you to be alone."

"Alright." He kissed her chapped lips delicately as he nodded. "I promise I won't be alone; you don't have to worry about me no more, amor mío." 

"I love you." 

"I love you too. You're the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to me." 

He couldn't hold it anymore: a sob escaped from his lips as the first tear slid down his cheek. She was quick to dry it, and while he leaned against her palm with closed eyes, she softly stroked his hair. 

"There better be a sea of marigolds and tequila on the altar this November, or I'll haunt you for the rest of eternity." She tried joking in hopes of seeing his smile one last time. 

«Haunt me then! Be with me always— take any form— drive me mad! Only do not leave in this abyss, where I cannot find you!» Never had he understood Heathcliff's pain as much as he did then. Still, to avoid disturbing her further, he smiled and hugged her waist tighter. 

"Whatever you desire, querida." 

They remained silent after that, her loving touch and faint breath lulling him into sleep not long after. It was the rays of dawn that filtered through the closed curtains that woke him up hours later, the candle far extinguished. He didn't even need to look; her cold and stiff hands revealed that his greatest fear had come true. 

"Vuelve a mi, corazón. Por favor, por favor..." He'd never cried so hard in his entire life, his face pressed against her chest as he repetead as a chant: "Te amo, te amo, te amo..." 

Jack buried a part of himself with her, but the truth is, all he wanted was to end his misery and lay with her three feet underground. The first few weeks after the funeral, he found it impossible to get off their shared bed in an aching attempt to hold onto the lingering scent of her in the sheets. But when it vanished, along with all the remains of her presence in the mansion, he sold it and moved as far as he could. As for his promise, he couldn’t keep it; he couldn’t find it in himself to even look at any other, no matter how much time passed. He carried her deep in his chest, in that corner of his heart where he had built her a perpetual altar. 

Years, decades, and a whole century passed, but the sorrow never truly disappeared; he just learned to live with it. Still, if one is observant enough and looks at him closely, one would find an ever-present mourning in his eyes. 

In the darkness of this club, though— he thinks— you won't even be able to see your own shoes. 

Every year since he met him, Ted will drag him and a bunch of other monsters to this particular nightclub in his town for Halloween. It's the only night of the year in which they can easily blend in with the humans without fearing the hunters, and a dark, crowded club is an excellent place to hide in plain sight. Typically, Jack would never set foot in a place like that, but for his friend, he'd withstand all the noise for some hours. 

"Why is it that with every year, it gets stinkier in here?" Simon asks as they make their way to a table, the neon lights flashing them occasionally. 

She's right; it reeks of alcohol and sweat, but it isn't even that bad. Besides, something sweet and pleasant is hiding among the crowd, luring Jack deeper into the place; it's familiar and welcoming, but he can't identify why. 

"What is it, doggie?" Shiklah questions him after noticing his distracted demeanor, his eyes scanning the place. "Too much for an old wolf?" 

"No, it's just... Can't any of you smell that? There's a weird scent in here." 

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Satana mocks him, making the others laugh. 

As they sit and start catching up with each other, Jack finally identifies where he had smelled that aroma before, making his heart stop for a second. 

An interesting thing about humans (and monsters, too) is that each one possesses a unique scent, and while their noses cannot identify this, his canine nature allows him to easily make the distinction. This is why he believes to be hallucinating when his brain finally puts a name and face to the aroma currently invading his nostrils. He knows that scent to its core; it's embedded in his skin and memory like a scar, one he had pushed to the back of his mind long ago for survival. It lights something within him, a part of him he believed to have been buried in a faraway land beside the one and only woman he's ever loved. 

Jack jumps out of his seat, looking around him in confusion and longing. Whoever smells like that is getting closer, approaching their spot as he circles the table and tries to locate them. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry," He answers Ted, who asked him if he's alright as the others look at him baffled. "I just need to..." 

Distracted and blinded by the darkness, Jack bumped into a woman as he tried to excuse himself away from his friends, something spilling on his shirt. 

"Chin! I'm terribly sorry!" 

"Oh, no, don’t be; it’s not your fault!" The voice makes him freeze in his tracks, hands trembling. "I didn't see you there; it's too dark in here." 

His gaze slowly lifts from the dark floor to the face of the woman in front of him, her face slightly illuminated by neon blue light. Her eyes lock with his, the faintest sign of familiarity in them, and god was he convinced for a moment to have died. Before him, there's a ghost; literally, she's dressed up as one: flowy white dress and dark makeup. Even in the dim, he can recognize all the marks and lines he'd traced so many times with his fingers, the curve of the lips he'd kissed endless times, and the irises he woke up to for seven years in what seems like a lifetime ago. 

She looks just as when he first met her, her tone and movements are identical copies of hers, and she scents the exact fucking same. It drives him wild; it makes him hot and needy. He just wants to jump at her and hug her, smell her, kiss her, taste her... 

"Lucifer!" Shiklah's voice wakes him from his trance. "You are the walking portrait of..." He steps on her foot to shut her up, earning a yelp from her part. The others turn to check on her, allowing Jack to apologize without feeling their stares on them. 

"Damn it, I think I stained your shirt." she points to his chest, where a big wet spot lies: tequila, the smell tells him.

"It's nothing, really; I was distracted as well... Could I offer to buy you another?" 

"You know? There are better ways to approach a woman than spilling her drink, pretty boy." His cheeks immediately burn; heavens, did he miss her coquetry. 

"It worked, didn't it?" She laughs, a sound that crosses directly to his death-hollow heart and reanimates it from his century-long sleep.

"I usually don't accept drinks from strangers, but I think I could make an exception for you." 

"I'm Jack Russell, at your service, señorita." Slowly, he took her hand and kissed the back of it, his gaze fixed on hers. "And you are...?"

She gave him the same name his lips were used to pronounce as a prayer in another life, one his tongue rolled off with such naturalness it seemed tailored to it.  

"Not so much of a stranger now, eh? Now, how about that drink?" 

"The bar is over there." She pointed to his left. "Want me to lead you, Jack?" 

His heart fluttered as she looped her arm with his, guiding him across the floor with a seductive smile on her lips. 

[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! :)

[xplore-the-unknwn]

Imagine Jack Russell......

Oh. My. God. 

Have ya’ll seen this? Gael Garcia Bernal in Motorcycle Diaries?! He is so hot! 

Writers of tumblr please make a Jack Russell short out of this masterpiece of a scene! I was on a Gael Garcia movie spree and when I watched this, it awakened something inside of me. I don’t usually post content- but this was so ethereal and spicy. His acting was so passionate and spot on. Pure cinema. I just couldn’t-- asdfghjkl. Tag mee if you please!

I imagine Jack (wwbn’s beloved goldenwoof boy) would be this passionate and clingy with his S/O.

Jack’s love language is physical touch. He appreciates being given lots of pats and warm cuddles(partly due to his heritage of having canine traits). So he loves to caress his s/o intently. all.the.time. But his favorite part is when he just stares at his s/o getting lost in their eyes.

Jack is calm while handling his s/o, and with every kiss he is gentle and slow, savoring the taste of their lips.

Jack likes lots and lots of intimate playfights. When he can’t get enough, his canine instincts would kick in and he would dive in his s/o’s neck (his favorite spot) to linger in that sweet scent of them.

-and

BONUS

He fucks-

oh. so. graciously.

[lilpunkrock]

Teach Me

Status: Drabble

Pairing: Jack Russell x Fem!Reader

Find my other Jack Russell works here and here.

AN: I cannot stop writing for this man. Thank you to my four years of high school-level Spanish and Google for helping me through this. I do apologize if there are any errors, I tried my very best!

Translations can be found at the end of the post. x

. . .

“¿Cómo estás?”

“Estoy bien, gracias.” 

“¡Muy bien, mi amor!”

You flash a dazzling grin in response to Jack’s enthusiastic praise. The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, backs pressed against the arm rests so that you can face each other. When you had first asked him to help you learn Spanish a couple of months ago, his brows had jumped in genuine surprise. Little did he know that such a request had been on your mind for a long time. After all, your love for Jack had instilled in you a passion for learning about all aspects of his cultural heritage, and his native language was an integral part of that. While Jack had protested that, should you ever visit a Spanish-speaking region, he would be there to translate for you, you had politely declined. You wanted to be capable of standing at his side and conversing in his native tongue independently. Learning a new language was a challenge, sure, but the child-like glee in his eyes during your nightly practice sessions made the mental marathon worth it. 

“Okay, another. What might you say if someone asked you, ‘¿Cómo puedo ayudarte?”

You pause, your brows furrowing deeply in thought. You knew the first word was ‘how,’ and ‘ayudar’ was ‘help…’ “Ummm…¿Estoy perdida?” you say hesitantly, a tentative smile playing on your lips. 

Jack gives a scoff, rolling his olive green eyes in mock disbelief. “As if I would let you out of my sight. Still, muy bien.”

You give him a cheeky grin. Slowly, you slide one sock-clad foot across the couch to toy with the leg of his gray sweatpants. “Ayúdame, necesito encontrar a mi esposo.” 

A low hum rumbles in Jack’s throat at your words—a soft growl. His knuckles whiten as he clasps his folded hands a little tighter in his lap. You nibble at your bottom lip in delight as a rush of blood warms his cheeks. He clears his throat hastily, pushing that deliciously possessive rumble back down his throat as he eyes you keenly. “Not yet, mi amor. Though that could be arranged.” At your bright peal of laughter, he smiles. “You are doing well. Have you been practicing without me?” 

“Maybe just a little,” you say coyly. More like every day, sometimes multiple hours a day. Little did he know that the Babbel app currently held the record for the greatest amount of screen time on your phone. 

A slow smile pulls at Jack’s pink lips, his olive eyes twinkling, crinkling at the corners. Gosh, his eyes. Oh how you adored catching them peek at you over the rim of a coffee mug, finding them tracing your features when you woke up in the morning, watching them gaze up at you as he pressed gentle kisses into your skin, eyelids heavy and love-drunk. The pleased look on his handsome face sends your stomach into a tailspin.

“Alright, let’s try something harder.” That adorable smile remains plastered on his perfect pink lips. “What might you say if we were going to a restaurant?”

You pause, pursing your lips, thinking carefully. “Tengo una reservación,” you say slowly, your voice straight and even. 

Jack gives a soft chuckle, a sound as sweet as a lullaby. “That’s pretty good. It is a little too…English. But you are close, so close. Roll your tongue, mi amor. Like this.” You watch carefully as he brings the tip of his tongue to the back of his top teeth and gives you a demonstration. 

For all your extra practice, this particular detail of the language was something you were still struggling to muster. Hoping to prolong the inevitable embarrassment you’d experience when attempting it again, you offer him a shit-eating grin. “I can’t help that you’re better with your tongue than I am,” you say jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Well, only partly joking.

Though Jack buries his head in his hands, the gesture barely contains his laughter. And good thing, too, because the sound of his snickers is music to your ears. Your eager eyes catch the sight of the slight crook in his teeth peeking out from behind his hands. It’s one of your favorite features of his; your heart swells three sizes at the sight of it. “Ay, Dios mío. You are such a tease.” With a long sigh, he collects himself, waving his hand at you as he smooths out his expression. “Come now, mi amor, try again. Curl your tongue to the top of your mouth, behind your teeth. Like this.” He demonstrates again, ever the emphatic teacher. “And then push the air out quickly. Come on.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly at him. “Okay, okay. I’ll try it.” His eyes hold yours steadily as you thoughtfully bring your tongue to the back of your teeth. It takes a few tries and some re-positioning, but when you’re ready, you try it again, “Tengo una reservación.”

Jack’s expression brightens instantaneously, positively radiant, beaming like the sun. The sight robs the breath straight from your lungs. You think you could practice rolling your r’s forever if it meant continuing to make him grin like that. “¡Muy bien, mi amada! You did it! You are killing it! Okay, okay, another one. Let’s see if you can remember it this time, okay? What do you say if you need to find the bathroom?”

Shit. One of the most crucial phrases, and you’d been struggling with it for weeks. That last word always seemed to escape you. What was it again…? “¿Dónde está…la biblioteca?”

Jack smirks at you, his olive eyes bright and amused. “El baño, mi amor.”

You groan, throwing your head back in defeat. “Shit, that was library, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why I can’t seem to get that one.”

The gentle press of a warm hand to your knee draws your attention. Jack leans toward you, kneading your knee softly, a gesture that turns your legs to noodles and sends your stomach aflutter with butterflies. “Don’t get down on yourself, mi amor. You are doing so well. You should be proud.” His expression is affectionate, his eyes a doorway straight to his heart. You feel yourself relax, melding like clay into his hands. “I am proud of you.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, cheeks flushed with delight. A slow smile pulls at your lips as you add, “You know, there is something else I’ve been practicing.”

Jack’s eyebrows reach for his salt-and-pepper hair. “Oh? What is it?”

You lean toward him, stopping when your noses are mere inches apart. “Eres un excelente profesor.” The words roll from your smiling lips, rehearsed many times over in preparation for this moment.

That beloved crooked grin of his is on full display as Jack smiles with glee. That smile could win wars—you just knew it. “Y tengo una estudiante muy hermosa y talentosa. Mi amada, eres una bendición.”

His words slip over you masterfully, spilling from his lips like spun silk. Your brain scrambles to identify bits and pieces, but overall, the picture is incomplete. “Ah, no entiendo, mi amor.”

Jack gives an amused chuckle, eyeing you with a mix of humor and adoration. “We will get there,” he says assuredly, giving your knee a brief squeeze.

You smile brightly at him in response. With your faces drawn so closely together, you can see every divinely-woven thread in his irises, from the green plains at their borders to the brown earth at their cores. His jaw is blanketed in a short stubble—“Please don’t shave it yet, I love how it feels beneath my fingers,” you’d begged him—and his lips are plush and pink. This close to one another, the air between you feels charged, electric, alive. Your skin prickles, nerve endings firing like live wires. Only his touch on your knee soothes you. 

Your gaze slips from his hand to his eyes coyly. “You know, you are such an excellent Spanish teacher…” you murmur softly, sweetly. Your fingers trail up his arm with agonizing slowness, slipping into the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. When you thread your fingers through it and give a gentle tug, Jack’s pupils dilate instantaneously. This time, the soft rumble that reverberates through his throat is insistent, needy. The sound sets your skin aflame, turns your bones to jelly. “Maybe…there’s something else you’d like to teach me?” 

When he swallows, it’s with the desperation of a man starved of food and drink. His Adam's apple bobs deliciously, his brilliant eyes watching you like you’re a feast in a famine. In this moment, you’re so glad you asked him to teach you Spanish.

With the swiftness of an animal and the grace of a man, he scoops you up into his arms, pressing a warm kiss to the shell of your ear. “Vámonos.”

. . .

Translations:

“¿Cómo estás?” — "How are you?"

“Estoy bien, gracias.” — "I'm good, thank you."

“¡Muy bien, mi amor!” — "Very good, my darling/my beloved!"

"¿Cómo puedo ayudarte?" — "How can I help you?"

"¿Estoy perdida?" — "I'm lost?"

"Ayúdame, necesito encontrar a mi esposo." — "Help me, I need to find my husband."

"Dios mío." — "My God/my goodness"

"Tengo una reservación." — "I have a reservation."

"Mi amor" — "My love"

"¡Muy bien, mi amada!" — "Very good, my darling/my beloved!"

"¿Dónde está…la biblioteca?" — "Where is...the library?"

"Eres un excelente profesor." — "You are an excellent teacher."

"Y tengo una estudiante muy hermosa y talentosa. Mi amada, eres una bendición." — "And I have a very beautiful and gifted student. My beloved, you are a blessing."

"Vámonos." — "Let's go."

. . .

Taglist: @h0wv3ry @the-ginger-draws @howlingco @ratisshortforratalia @safeikik @russell-ed @emilynightshade89 @mobiusismyfav @thepjofanqueen @couldnt-come-up-with-a-username @girlymusiclover09 @vigilantefucks @starfirette @scarletghost22

[abirdie]

Gael García Bernal in La mala educación (2004, dir. Pedro Almodóvar)

(these gifs also feature Fele Martínez, Javier Cámara and Lluís Homar)

Gifs are all 540px wide so you can click to see larger.

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[the-sparkling--diamond]

hide and seek

Jack Russell x gender neutral reader

Warnings: None

Also posted on AO3 (@/TheSparklingDiamond)

You sprinted through the dark forest, not daring to turn behind you. You couldn't bother wasting time. Even a precious second could let him get the advantage. Your body seemed to be on autopilot, legs carrying you as fast as they possibly could. Pulling the scarf from around your neck, you tossed it as far as you could before quickly changing directions and running the opposite way. Your jacket was next to go, and you changed directions once more after dropping the garment. You hoped your efforts were enough to keep him off your scent, at least for a little while. You may have gotten a head start, but you knew he wouldn't take long to catch up.

Leaning against a particularly large rock, you tried to catch your breath. The adrenaline pumping through your system made you aware of every little sound. You found yourself wondering if this is how he felt. Overly alert, always aware of even the quietest noise or the faintest scent. The snap of a branch in the distance caught your attention, making you hold your breath. The sound seemed to echo through the seemingly endless trees. The silence that followed was somehow even louder. You knew that if you ran again, he'd surely find you in an instant. As quietly as you could, you sunk to the ground, back against the rock and knees pressed to your chest. Maybe you'd be lucky. Maybe your scent would be masked by the leaves on the ground and moss on the rock. All you could do was sit and wait. Wait for him to find you. Wait for him to give up. You closed your eyes, straining to hear any sign of him, but were met with nothing. Had you won? Had you finally outsmarted him?

A hand suddenly gripped your upper arm and you jumped away, fright turning your blood to ice. You looked up, eyes meeting Jack's grinning face. He gently pulled you to your feet, smiling as he murmured, "Found you."

You groaned but couldn't help the smile that formed on your lips. "I really thought I had you beat this time."

He handed you your jacket, "Yes, the jacket and scarf trick you did was good."

"Thanks," you slipped your jacket back on, laughing a bit, "I'm glad you picked these up. I would've forgotten where they were."

Looping your scarf around your neck, his grin managed to grow, green eyes sparkling, "Of course. I couldn't have you catching a cold." He pulled you close with the ends of your scarf, pressing a quick kiss to the cold tip of your nose. Pulling away, he grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, "Let's go home. Get you all warmed up, yeah?"

You nodded, leaning into him as the two of you started to walk in the direction of home. "I'll never understand why you like playing hide and seek in the dark," you said suddenly.

Jack shrugged, "It's more of a challenge that way," he paused, flashing you another bright smile, "Besides, you look cute all bundled up."

Heat rushed to your cheeks, "Is your plan to warm me up by flirting with me?"

"No...no." There was a momentary silence before he looked at you, eyes bright with amusement, "Why? Is it working?"

You laughed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, only being broken when you asked, "Hot chocolate?"

He nodded, "Hot chocolate."

[afictionaladventure16]

Hiii!! i love all your writings and saw that you wanted an idea for tim bradford angst.

if possible, can you do tim bradford x teen!daughter where she gets held hostage or in trouble and he become really overprotective and worried for her?

thanks so much!! 🩷🩷

Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Daughter)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, stabbing, mentions of self-harm, beating, and potential death.

Word Count: 11,027

A/N: Alright, this is the fic that I wrote because of the poll and this request. I hope you guys enjoy it! High key, proud of this one since it is the longest fic I have written! Tim Bradford requests are open! Also, if there are mistakes... um... no, there isn't... ignore it... lol and I know there wasn't much Lucy in this one, I realize that after I wrote everything... I promise to write more Lucy in the next ones.

Side note: Diego Luna is Diego Garcia

Gael Garcia Bernal is Gael Garcia...

Y/N's eyes darted between Angela and Y/N's dad for the past ten minutes as they argued over where the centerpieces should go and for some reason, Y/N felt like this was something she’d flipped about. Yet, here they were flipping out about the position of the centerpiece. 

“What do you think?” Angela finally asked y/n, her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face.

“Does it matter?” She asked. 

Y/N could see the switch flip in Angela’s eyes, Tim couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle before placing a soft hand on Angela’s shoulder, “Just put them how you want, Angela, we have more important things to worry about,” he had waved the white flag. 

Angela nodded, “you’re right,” she began, her eyes landing on y/n, “We still need you to shower, get dressed, and do your hair and makeup. All in under,” she looked at her watch, eyes widened as she realized the time. “Two hours!” She exclaimed. 

Y/N let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go.” She followed Angela out of the banquet hall.

Suppose y/n had asked her ten-year-old, scared self that in a few years, she’d be surrounded by people who loved her like they shared the same blood, with no conditions attached. That she’d be getting ready for her quince and that she was happy. Her younger self would have called her crazy, mostly because, at the time, she didn’t see any hope. Yet, here she was, looking at herself in the mirror as she wore her quince dress, hair styled in a half-up and half-down with curls, and the makeup wasn’t over the top but complimented her face.

“What do you think?” Angela asked, grinning from ear to ear as she looked at her in the mirror. 

“I love it,” y/n smiled, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“Oh no,” Angela quickly grabbed a tissue and helped y/n wipe away the tears before it ruined her makeup, “What’s wrong? Is there something you don’t like?” 

y/n couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “No, it’s not that,” she glanced back at herself in the mirror. “I just never thought I’d be this lucky.” 

Angela smiled, she opened her mouth to say something but quickly turned at the sound of a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Tim asked from the other side of the door. 

Angela rolled her eyes, “Come in.” Tim entered the room, “you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on everything,” Angela scowled. 

Tim held his hands up, “In my defense, Lucy said she had it handled and rushed me to come get dressed.”

Angela sighed, “Alright, well I guess I should get ready, you don’t mind if I use the bathroom to change?” 

Tim shook his head, “by all means, go ahead.” Angela walked out of the room. Y/n couldn’t help but continue to stare at herself in the mirror, “You look beautiful, sweetie.” 

“You think so?” 

Tim nods, “And I’m not just saying that because I’m your dad and I have to.” He walked over and planted a kiss on top of her head, “Our ride will be here an hour, so why don’t you help Angela get ready.” 

“On it,” y/n smiled and walked out of the room. 

Within the hour, everyone had gotten ready and it was time to head back to the banquet hall. It wasn’t long until y/n was back at the banquet hall, making an entrance to her guests clapping. It all felt surreal and she didn’t want it to end. 

She danced with her friends as planned, and then surprised her guests with a surprise dance. By the time it was all over, she was exhausted, but when she heard the music slowly die down she was quick to catch on to what was going on. 

“If I could have everyone’s attention,” Tim began, as he waited a few seconds for everyone to quiet down. “I would just like to thank you all for coming out tonight, it means a lot to us. I also have a small speech prepared, I’m not accustomed to how quince’s go, but I’ve been told that I need to make a speech.” Tim scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on y/n, he smiled, “As many as you know, Y/N is adopted, but that doesn’t mean I love her any less, if anything it means I love her more. I think I knew from the day I met her, that there was something special in her and that I wasn’t just supposed to save her that day…” Tim could recall that moment when he knew that somehow you were destined to be a part of his life and somehow you were brought into his life to save him from his pain. 

~~ Then ~~ 

Tim cursed under his breath when he told himself it was a quiet shift because only a second later he got a call about a possible double homicide with a little girl who had called 9-1-1. He knew that whatever this little girl saw, it would stay with her the rest of her life and this wasn’t the first time he had answered calls like these. Yet, something about this one felt different. 

He was the first one on the scene when he arrived at the house, he took out his gun and slowly approached the house, the front door was already open. Slowly, Tim made his way through the house, checking every room as he walked through. He stopped when he walked into the master bedroom, seeing the bodies of a woman and a man on the floor. He walked over and checked for a pulse. 

“Dispatch, this is Officer Bradford, we got two DBs on the scene,” Tim said into his walkie. Tim could hear the distant sounds of sirens approaching, backup had arrived. 

A sound of ruffling came from behind him, he quickly turned around to face a closet door. Tim raised his gun as he slowly approached the door, “this is LAPD, come out of the closet,” Tim stated, and he was met with silence. He opened the door slowly, his eyes widened when his eyes landed on a little girl. He lowered his gun and bent down, “Hey, it’s okay.” He tried his best to sound as soft as possible, but she inched backward until she hit the wall. He noticed her eyes darted behind him, his heart raced as he turned around but no one was there. His eyes landed back down at the bodies on the floor. He blocked her view with his body. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Tim asked, y/n looked up at him and gave him a small nod. 

“Alright, the rules are you have to close your eyes okay? Can you do that for me?” Tim asked. Y/n gave him a nod and closed her eyes. Tim got up, picking you up in the process. He was surprised at how light she was, given her age. He took her outside where other officers and paramedics began to arrive, one of the paramedics walked over to the two of them. 

“She doesn’t seem to be injured but I would like to get her checked out, just in case,” Tim began. 

The paramedic nodded as he reached out for her, but she quickly sunk more into Tim’s arms. The paramedic glanced at Tim, “looks like you got a puppy,” he commented, “mind carrying her to the rig?” 

Tim let out a small sigh before following the paramedic to the rig, he held her in his arms as he sat in the back of the rig while the paramedic did his thing. She clung to his side the whole time, and for some reason, Tim was okay with it. Yes, it happened from time to time and sometimes Tim wished he was never put in that situation but this time, he felt this was where he was needed. 

~~ NOW~~ 

“Little did I know that I was to gain a daughter that day and I am proud of the young lady she is becoming,” Tim glanced over to where y/n was, a prideful smile on his face, “Happy birthday, sweetie.”  There was more that Tim wanted to say, stuff that made him feel uncomfortable in front of a room full of friends and family. He wasn’t uncomfortable because he didn’t want to say it, it was more because he never showed that side of him to those who barely knew him. 

What he wanted to say would have to wait. 

The party quickly resumed with everyone back on the dance floor and having the time of their lives. It wasn’t long before the night slowly began to die down, people began to go home and soon enough it was only a few people left. Y/N could feel the drowsiness hitting her eyes as she sat at one of the tables, she was thankful that she chose to get a second dress for the end of the night. Y/N was done with your quince dress an hour after she put it on and somehow Angela knew y/n would need a second dress. 

“Tired?” Tim asked as he sat down on the chair next to y/n. She slowly nodded, laying her head on the table. 

“Why don’t the two of you go home, I have people coming by in the morning to clean up,” Angela commented as she walked over to the table. 

Tim nodded, gesturing for y/n to get up, “Thank you, again, Angela.” 

“Hey, you helped me plan my wedding, the least I can do is help you plan your daughter’s quince, especially since you have no experience in this criteria.” 

“Well, I appreciate it,” Tim hugged Angela, letting go to grab some of y/n’s things.  

Y/N got up from the table and hugged Angela, “Thank you, Angela. You made my quince the highlight of the school year.” Angela smiled and placed a small kiss on Y/n’s forehead.

“Make sure to mention me in your popularity speech,” she winks.  

“You’ll be the first one I thank,” y/n joked. She followed Tim out of the banquet hall. 

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked as the both of them got in the truck. 

“Sleep deprived.” 

Tim grunted, “What?” 

“Well, we have a birthday tradition we haven’t done this year.” She gave him a confused look, “Our hot chocolate at midnight,” he said in a surprised tone. 

She let out a small chuckle, it was a tradition she had unknowingly started on her first birthday with her dad, “I completely forgot about that.” 

“How could you forget? It’s a sacred tradition and we are about an hour late.”  

She playfully rolled her eyes, “It slipped my mind with all the quince craziness.” 

“You’re forgiven,” he smiled, starting the truck to head home. It wasn’t long before she was asleep, being tired and going on a car drive was not a good combo for her. It felt like seconds after she had closed her eyes, she was being woken up, only to realize that she had been asleep for twenty minutes. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Tim suggested as he grabbed some of her things from the back seat. 

She followed him inside the house, “I’m still down for that hot chocolate,” she commented. 

“You sure?” 

“It’s a tradition,” she smiled, “I’m just gonna take off all this makeup, give me five minutes.” 

Your dad watched as you walked into your room, you were too stubborn for your own good and somehow he felt like he was to blame for that. 

 Tim went into the kitchen to make the two of you hot chocolate, he was adding marshmallows when everything went dark. “Crap,” he muttered to himself. “Damn outages,” he jumped into action, rushing over to the drawer where he kept his emergency kit, including his flashlight. 

“Y/N, I’ll bring over some candles!” He yelled out. He waited for your response but he did not receive any, he was trying not to panic, maybe you were so busy taking off your makeup still that you didn’t get the chance to respond. But given the last time the power had gone off, he was expecting a response. Yes, it was the summer and there had been outages but it had mostly happened during the day. 

Kojo began to whine and ran over to your door, beginning to scratch at the door. Something was wrong, Tim didn’t hesitate to run over to your door, “Y/N?” He called out. He waited another few seconds for you to respond. When you didn’t it was like all the alarms inside Tim’s head went off, “Y/N?!” He yelled. Again, no response. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, he opened the door to find an empty dark room, he ran over to your bathroom and it was empty. He felt his heart drop, and he ran out into the hallway, “Y/N!?” he screamed. He went to every single room in the house, any place he thought you would hide, but why would you hide? To play a game of hide and seek? He didn’t know, he wished that was what was happening, He hoped. He stood in the middle of the living room, his breathing was erratic as he realized that you were gone. You were gone and it was while he was home, where he could protect you. Regardless of what happened, Tim felt responsible for everything. 

His hands shook as he dialed 9-1-1, when he heard the voice on the other line, he couldn’t say the words. Maybe because saying it would mean it was reality, it wasn’t some nightmare he could just wake up from. 

“Hello? 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The lady asked again. 

Tim felt tears forming in his eyes, “My-my daughter is missing,” he choked out a sob before giving the dispatch his address. 

“Sir, I need you to remain calm, can you tell me your daughter’s name and age?” 

He let out a shaky breath, “Y/N,” he felt another sob making its way up his throat, part of him wanted to throw up. He didn’t know why he felt like throwing up, but the feeling was making its way up. “She just turned fifteen,” He managed to say. 

“Do you know where she was taken from?” 

Yes, he did. She was taken while I was present, he thought. “Our home,” He held back his sob. 

“Can you describe what happened? What was she wearing?” 

He needed Lucy. He needed someone to take over for him, he couldn’t do this. All he wanted to do was to run out into the streets and find her himself, but he knew he wouldn’t hold back if he did. He would tear whoever took her limb by limb, he wouldn’t show any mercy. 

“Sir? Are there any open windows in her bedroom?” 

It was like everything he learned in the academy, everything he had done on the job flew out the window the second he realized she wasn’t in her room. 

He walked into the bedroom once more, “There is,” he said as he stared at the open window, “she doesn’t open her window, her screen ripped a while back.” 

“Can you describe what happened before you realized she was missing?” 

“I-I was making us hot chocolate and then the power went out.” 

The dispatcher kept Tim on the phone until officers arrived, it didn’t take long for word to get to Sergeant Grey and somehow he arrived seconds after the first officer. 

Sergeant Grey took matters into his own hands, calling up Angela and Lucy to the scene, one because Grey knew he needed the best detective on this case and the second because Tim needed the support right now. 

“I need you to walk me through this Tim,” Angela said softly as she sat beside Tim on the couch. 

He clasped his hands together, hoping it would stop the shaking, he was shaking so much. No matter what he tried it just wouldn’t stop. “I went into the kitchen to make us some hot chocolate and the power went out. I called out for Y/N and got no response, I gave it a second because I know sometimes it’s hard for her to respond when she’s taking off her makeup.” 

Angela couldn’t help but smile at how much Tim had become a girl-dad within the past few years. He knew everything about his daughter and the habits she had. If she were on her time of the month, he was quick to get her the things she needed without being a guy about it. There were even times when Y/N’s period got so bad, that he allowed her to stay home from school. In Angela’s eyes, he was the ultimate girl-dad and she knew how lucky Y/N was to have him as one. 

“I then walked over to her bedroom and called for her again and when she didn’t respond a second time I knew something was wrong. The third time I called out for her, I didn’t wait to go in the bedroom, that’s when I realized she-She was missing,” he choked out the last part, Lucy rubbed small circles on his back. She was trying her best to be his support system in his time of need. 

Angela remembered noticing most of the neighborhood was out of power when she drove up, it could have been a planned thing or just a coincidence, “didn’t you just upgrade your alarm system? Especially the cameras?” 

Tim instantly knew what Angela was trying to bring up, he quickly brought out his phone and pulled up the app. “Usually after an outage, the cameras remain on for ten minutes,” he commented, rewinding the footage to when they had arrived from the quince. 

“There!” Angela pointed out, “That car pulls up a few houses down the same time you guys pull in.” They kept their eyes on the car as they watched the footage. They saw as the power went out and they saw the bushes on the side of the houses moving and then the car driving off in a hurry. 

“It’s too dark to see anything,” Tim felt defeated. At this point, he knew that he wasn’t getting y/n back tonight, she wasn’t safe. 

“Send me that footage, I’ll have my guys work on it. We’re not stopping until she’s home and she’s safe. For now, you should stay at Lucy’s,” Angela stated. 

He shook his head, “We need to get out there, I need to be doing something to find her. Let me help.” 

Angela shook her head, getting up from the couch, “Trust me on this, Tim. I know you want to be there, you want to go out and find her but you can’t. You need to trust me, I will find y/n and when I do, I’ll hold those who took her accountable.” 

Tim opened his mouth to protest, “She’s right, Tim,” Lucy added. “The best we can do is be on the sidelines.” 

Tim felt angry at them for, in football terms, benching him, when he felt like he should be out there with Angela trying to find his daughter. “When you were taken, we all looked for you, including Wesley. So don’t bench me. Don’t tell me to just stay home and not do anything, not after she has been kidnapped right under my fucking nose.” 

Angela looked over at Lucy with a knowing look, “All alright, but you’ll be taking orders from me, what I say goes. I can’t afford to lose any of you if anything goes sideways.” 

“Okay,” Tim said. 

“I need you to promise me that when I tell you something you will listen,” Angela stated. Tim hesitated, he wanted to promise her, but also, he felt like there could be many situations where defying her orders could save you. But he needed to trust Angela. “Promise me, Bradford!” 

“I promise.” 

She let out a deep sigh, “Alright, let’s get to the station, we have a lot of work to do and my guys need to do a sweep of the house to see if they can find anything.” 

The team spent the rest of the night at the station, they were trying to make a connection to the previous break-in, hoping that they could find something that could trace them back to y/n’s whereabouts. But with everything that they searched through, they had no luck. 

Tim and Lucy sat in the conference room where they had a board up with potential suspects on the kidnapping, people who lived nearby and were on the offenders list. It was all dead ends. Angela had left to retrieve documents on Y/N’s adoption, mostly about who her biological parents were.

“Fuck!” Tim yelled as he threw papers across the conference room. 

Lucy looked at him with concern on her face, “Tim, we’ll-” 

“Don’t,” he snapped, “this is all my fault.” Tears formed in his eyes as he sat down on one of the chairs. A shaky sob escaped his lips, “I can’t lose her, Lucy. I can’t. I don’t know how to live in a world where she isn’t my daughter. I know we joke about having kids, but I only have one of her. Nothing will replace her and I never want to replace her.” 

Lucy sat beside him, “I know,” she softly said. 

“I can’t lose her. I don’t think I would be able to handle it.” 

This was a side of Tim that Lucy was beginning to see more and more now that they were in a relationship. It was a side of Tim that she wished more people knew about, but she understood why they didn’t. Yes, he had this mentality that if he showed this side of himself to just anyone then there would be no room for people to take him seriously. 

But here he was, showing this side of himself in the middle of the conference room, where the walls were made of glass, making them the attractions in a zoo. Anyone could see, but they were in their little bubble for the moment. What happened beyond those glass walls didn’t matter, who saw them, didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was there for him in his need. 

“You know when I first met you, I never would have imagined you had a kid, let alone had adopted her. But then I saw her and the way you were with her and I could just tell, she was your kid. If you hadn’t told me that you had adopted her, I would have never guessed it.” Lucy’s fingers brushed his chin, pulling his face to look at her, “I know you will search every inch of this city to find her, but remember that you have a team behind you that is searching with you. We will find her, Tim.” 

Tim felt tears falling from his eyes, “it’s all my fault, Lucy. I was supposed to keep her safe.”

She shook her head, “It’s not your fault, Tim. You did everything right you kept her as safe as you could.” 

Angela walked into the conference room with a beaming smile, “I found something.” 

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “what?” 

“I had to do some bribing, but I got y/n’s adoption records uncovered and her biological parents aren’t who they said they were.” 

“What?” Tim asked in disbelief. 

“Her father was one of the sons of one of the biggest drug lords in Mexico, apparently he came to the U.S. to start a fresh new life with his wife and newborn daughter,” Angela hands Tim a photo of y/n’s biological parents when she was just a newborn. For some reason, Tim felt speechless as he looked at the photo in front of him. He wondered what his daughter was like at that age, the thought of it, made his heart ache. He hated that he missed out on so much, it was something that given their situation was bound to happen, but he felt grateful that he was given the chance to be her father now. 

“She was a cute baby,” Angela commented as she watched how Tim was so focused on the photo in front of him, he probably didn’t even hear a word she had said a second ago. 

“She was,” Tim smiled before putting his focus back on Angela, “you were saying?” 

She couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, “As I was saying before you got into a trance, it looks like Gael and Luna, Y/n’s biological parents were killed by one of another drug lord's men. Hearing this news caused his father to have a heart attack and he almost literally died from a broken heart causing the younger brother of Gael, Deigo, to take over daddy's company.” 

“You didn’t know any of this?” Lucy asked. 

Tim shook his head, “All I was told was that it was a robbery gone wrong, obviously someone wanted to cover this up.” 

“And I have a lucky guess on who that was,” Angela said as she put up a picture of a man who looked similar to Diego, standing next to another man. “The man on the right is Diego Garcia, Gael’s brother and now rightful leader of one of Mexico’s biggest mafia, and the other guy Jesse Ortega, A.K.A. El Patron, One of Mexico’s biggest drug cartels.” 

“So, what are we thinking? That Jesse has y/n?” 

Angela shook her head, “I have more, the way y/n’s biological parents were murdered is similar to how y/n was almost kidnapped and then kidnapped. They also caused a power outage before entering the home, now the question is-”

“Why in the hell would they want y/n?” Tim interrupted. 

Angela shrugged, “leverage? All I know is that we need to find someone who has a connection with Diego and we need to find it fast. We know what these people are capable of.” She looked down, regretting her words as soon as she had said them, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No, we have to face the reality,” Tim uttered, “there is a chance…” he stopped, he couldn’t believe that he was going even to say it, “a chance that she may come back.” 

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Lucy said. 

Tim gave Lucy a hopeful smile, she was optimistic even when those surrounding her weren’t. She was optimistic in an annoying way that if she had ever stopped, he would miss it. 

~~ 

It had been what felt like a week since y/n had seen the sun since she remembered what it felt like to feel the comfort of her bed. She had been tied up on a chair since she’d been kidnapped, only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom or to stretch for ten minutes. Her captors were human enough to allow her just that. The only way she knows what time it is is by the sound of birds chirping outside, she knows it is morning by the sound of the mourning dove and when it is night by the sound of the crickets and frogs. 

She knows she has to be near water because of the frogs and because of how some of the men complained about the mosquitos. This is how she spent her time, studying. 

She has studied her captor's moves and the daily routines they did to make the time go by. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t at all scared because every minute that passed by her fear worsened. One thing in particular was that they hadn’t given her much attention. They gave her a small bottle of water that she was supposed to make last for the day, and a small meal a day which always looked like leftovers of the meal they chose not to eat. 

Y/N jumped in her chair to the sound of a door slamming, she could hear footsteps escalating towards her, and her eyes widened as the door to the room she was in swung open. One of the guards that sat in the room was quick to react letting out a relieved sigh when he realized who it was. 

“Dude, why do you have to come in like that? You almost gave me a heart attack,” The guard commented as he took a seat once again. 

“We have to get out of here,” the guy that entered the room says. 

“What?” 

“Our location could be blown, it’s been a week since we’ve heard the word,” the guy makes his way towards y/n, tugging at her arm, a gesture for her to get up. 

Y/n groans in pain, her legs sore from being in a position for so long, “What about-” 

“He’ll know where to find us, plus, at this point, I feel like he’s just taking his sweet ass time to come and get his prize.” The man led her out of the room. 

“Wait!” The guard said as he reached for the blindfold in his back pocket, tying the piece of fabric around her eyes. “Alright, now let’s go.” 

Y/n felt herself being led down a dirt path, and then being pushed into the trunk of a car. Then it was silent for a moment before she heard the roar of the engine and they were moving. This was her moment, she slowly began to loosen the rope tied around her wrists, she had been slowly working on it when her captors weren’t in the room. She had almost had it this morning before she was interrupted. The relief came instantly, as she brought her arms in front of her to bring down the blindfold. To her surprise, the trunk felt like being in an abyss, she was surrounded by darkness. Her hands searched above her, she knew there had to be a latch of some sort to open this trunk. Unless her captors were smart enough to remove it. 

She was beginning to give up, feeling tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Please,” she begged to any god that existed and was listening. All she wanted to do was go home, she wanted to feel safe in her dad's arms; Wondering why he hadn’t found her yet, but she knew that he would. Any moment he will be here to rescue her. 

Maybe that’s why they had to move locations. 

Her hands continued to trace the fabric above her, she let out a small gasp as her fingers touched something that wasn’t fabric. She took in a deep breath and pulled on the piece of plastic and in an instant the trunk opened. Y/n jumped out of the trunk with no hesitation, she yelped as she hit the ground and rolled on the pavement. 

Y/N let out a pain-stricken yell as she slowly got up to her feet, she heard tires screeching to a halt. 

“Fuck,” she said, turning around to see the car she had just jumped out of coming to a complete stop. Y/n only had a few seconds to take in her surroundings, it was dark and there was nothing but trees from what her eyes could see. 

She heard the engine beginning to come closer, it was now or never, she ran towards the trees. The sound of a car door closing caused her to use all her energy to run faster, but she could feel it quickly draining. Maybe this is why they fed her so little, to keep her from having the energy to run. 

The lack of food and water was getting to her, but she knew she couldn’t give up, she needed to find safety. 

The crash came quickly, one minute she was alert and running and the next she was on the ground. She was quick to come to, she let out a sob as she attempted to get back up. 

“Not so fast,” One of the men says as he grabs her arm, “Nice try.” He picks her up from the ground, holding a tight grip on her arm. “I got her!” he yells out. 

Footsteps could be heard coming closer to where they were, “Fucking bitch,” the other guy, who happens to be the guard, says. He swings his arm back, his fist meeting Y/n’s mouth causing her to lose her balance. She lets out a small sob, “Let’s get back to the car, Hugo.” 

Finally, a name. Hugo helped y/n back to her feet, “You know he’s not gonna like that you did that,” he commented. “You know how he is about his things.” 

The guard shrugged, “it’ll just be a slap on the wrist.” 

~~ 

Time was slipping by like a thin thread that was hard to see and hard to get a hold of. Tim felt like he was frozen, watching as his friends and family came by the house day by day to check up on him. Lucy came every day to walk Kojo because if she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn he never left his spot on the couch. It had been weeks since their last breakthrough, the day after Y/N was kidnapped, and since then every lead they have had led them to a dead end. At some point, Tim was beginning to lose it, he felt anger residing within him. 

Anger towards himself and to y/n’s captors. He had anger. After all, he was confused and angry because he couldn’t crack the case. He felt like he should be able to find her within a second, but when he was left with nothing but crumbs that once served as hope, he slowly fell into his pit of despair. 

Angela didn’t give up, she knew there was something within the lines that she must have overlooked. She wasn’t going to let the guilt win her, not when it had won over Tim. She knew there had to be one still searching through the crumbs that were left of this disaster. 

“We’re going to find her, Tim,” Angela said, walking around the coffee table to come face-to-face with her best friend. “Do you hear me?” 

Tim continued to stare into the blank space that was the TV. his eyes never leaving his reflection. 

“Tim, you can’t give up. You need to be strong for y/n because when we find her she’s going to need you more than ever,” Angela began to say. “She’s going to need her dad to bring her back to life, we have no idea what kind of hell she is going through righ-” 

“How do we even know she’s still alive?” Tim finally spoke up, breaking his eye contact with his reflection to look at Angela. 

Angela could see the fear in his eyes, the hope and desperation that still lay within them but was withering out, “How could you think that?” 

Tim turned away, blinking his tears away, “You and I both know the chances of survival of someone being kidnapped, especially those who are gone for weeks.” 

“You can’t think that way, you need to think like a cop-” 

“I’m thinking like a father, Angela!” Tim yelled. “My daughter could probably be dead in some ditch and I have to prepare myself for that possibility. I have to prepare myself for the possibility that she-” Tim let out a cry, “she might not come home,” he sobbed. 

“And I don’t know how to live with it. I don’t want to live in a world where she isn’t in it,” Tim cried. “She brought me so much happiness when I couldn’t find any and now she’s gone and I couldn’t stop it,” Tim looked at Angela with glass eyes, “I was supposed to protect her, so what kind of father does that make me?” 

Angela pulled Tim in for a hug, “you can’t always protect them, Tim. We all know that you can’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control.” Angela released the hug, holding Tim’s head in her hands, “I need you to pull yourself together, not for me or Lucy, but for Y/N. She needs you.” 

Tim knew Angela was right, he had to pull himself together. He gave her a small nod, as he got up from his spot on the couch and walked to the hallway, “Where are you going?” 

“To shower, I doubt you want me finding my daughter when I stink like dirty laundry,” he shouted out. 

Angela rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone from her pocket. 

I somehow got him to shower

She had sent a text to Lucy, who decided to stay back at the station to give the paperwork a second look. Lucy had felt like all her attempts on trying to get Tim off the couch had failed, all she had received from him were grunts or blank stares. She never took it personally, but knowing it didn’t take Angela long, made her heartache. 

They’ve been best friends for a while, she thought to herself. She shook her mind off of it before looking back at the paperwork. 

Before she could continue what she was reading, she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She turned to see an unfamiliar face smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m looking for a Tim Bradford.” 

Lucy found it strange to see civilians inside the station at such a late hour, but maybe he wasn’t a civilian. “Um, h-he’s not here at the moment, but can I help you?” Something about this man looked familiar to her, she just couldn’t figure it out.

“I must speak to Mr. Bradford,” the man said as he glanced outside the door. Lucy quickly caught on to the men guarding the door. She glanced back down at the photos in front of her before turning back to look at the man at the door. 

“D-Diego,” Lucy mumbled as she got up from her seat. 

The man sighed, “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to help,” he held up his hands. “You can search me and my men, you might find a gun on them, but they know not to do anything stupid, especially inside a police station.” 

“How did you get in here?” 

“It’s fairly easy when you spend your whole life doing these kinds of things,” he smiles before pointing to a chair near Lucy. “May I sit?” 

Lucy nods, “Why are you here?” 

“Like I said I want to help, now how long before Mr. Bradford gets here?” Diego looks at his watch before glancing at Lucy. 

~~ 

“Lucy?” Tim yelled out as he walked into their apartment, he was worried sick after she stopped answering his calls when she had texted Angela to meet at her apartment. 

“Why the hell would she want us to meet here?” Angela asked as she closed the door behind them. 

“Oh good,” Lucy said as she came out from her bedroom, “I know you guys have a lot of quest-” 

“Why did you stop answering my calls?” Tim asked as he pulled Lucy in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry, I just got caught up on-” Lucy realizes mid-sentence that Tim has a tighter grip on her, “I-I’m sorry, Tim.” For a moment, she let it slip that maybe not answering her phone caused panic to surge through Tim’s body. She could only imagine what he could have been thinking on the drive over, the worry he must have felt. 

“ ‘s alright,” Tim says as he lets go of the embrace. 

“Now can I have an explanation as to why all of our documents are in your apartment and not at the station, and how the hell did you get this big ass board here in thirty minutes?” Angela asks. 

“I had some help,” Lucy began to say. 

“Lucy, I can not thank you enough fo-” Diego stops mid-sentence, a smile forming on his face, “Mr. Bradford, it is so nice to finally meet you.” 

“Diego Garcia,” Angela quickly drew out her gun. 

Diego held his hands up, “I come in peace and empty-handed, Detective Lopez.” Angela gave a knowing glance towards Tim, “Yes, you can even search me, even though Lucy here already has.” 

“Twice,” Lucy added. 

“But if it makes you feel better, I’ll allow a third pat down,” Diego smiles. 

Angela holsters her gun, “I’ll trust Lucy’s word,” she says, “now explain.” 

“Well, after you left, Diego showed up and at first he would not tell me anything unless Tim was there, but I managed to get him to tell me some of what he had to say and given the situation, I felt it would be better if we met here. Away from the station, so we could all talk privately,” Lucy explained, she waited for a few seconds for someone to say something. Angela stood there, staring at Lucy like she was trying to make sense of it all. “Well?” 

“I’m still trying to figure out if what you did was stupid or smart,” Angela then looks over at Diego, “and you’re awfully brave for coming into a station considering who you are.” 

Diego smirks, “I am a wise man and as a wise man I know that you only have information on what others have said about me. But I am willing to risk it all if it means that my y/n is safe.” 

Angela turned her head slightly at what Diego had just said, “Surprised you even care when you didn’t even take her in after her parents were brutally murdered.” 

Diego took a deep breath, “I thought it would be for the best that she stayed away from this lifestyle, it’s what my brother would have wanted.” Diego noticed the photos that fell out of one of the folders, he couldn’t help himself as he began to look at them. 

“Then explain why Jesse Ortega has my daughter,” Tim said, “Because for the last few weeks, nothing has been making sense to me.” 

Angela saw the way he looked at those photos like they were his prized possessions, it was then that realization hit her. Nothing was making sense because it wasn’t true. “He doesn’t have to,” Angela said, suddenly understanding. 

Diego looked at her, it was the look in Angela’s eyes that made it clear to him, that she knew the truth. Everything he had heard about how great of a detective Angela was, was finally coming to light. He gave her a nod to continue. 

“I so happened to stumble upon a photo the press took of you and a woman,” Angela took out her phone, sliding through some photos before she landed on the one she needed. She held up the phone, “A woman who looks similar to Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought this was her mother, but from records, it shows that Isabella, Gael’s wife, is y/n’s mother. Not Camilla, your wife who so happened to pass away around the same time y/n was born.” She received a confused expression from Tim, “You see, The only reason why Jesse would want anything to do with y/n is because she isn’t Gael’s daughter but Diegos,” Angela explained. “But it doesn’t explain why Gael took her here to America to start a new life.” 

Diego sighed, “My wife, may God rest her soul, she passed when y/n was born and I already was worried about raising a child in such a lifestyle, but leaving was harder than it looked. My brother and his wife had wanted to leave for a while, so, I told them to take y/n and leave for the States. My father got word of this and told him he’d give him his blessing if he killed Jesse’s father,” Diego paused, recalling the day it happened like it was just yesterday. “The only person other than my father and brother who knew of y/n’s existence was my best friend, Jesse.” 

“Some best friend you were,” Angela commented, “Why kill his father?” 

“For the same reason, every other narco kills another. Territory. My father, although I loved him, he was greedy. He let the money get to his head and he wanted more. With territory came power, he wanted us to show him how we loved him. In a fucked up way, he only asked of this to have someone else do his dirty work for him,” Diego explained. “My brother was to kill Jesse’s father in exchange for ‘Freedom’ but look where that got him.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why Jesse wants revenge from you if Gael was the one that killed his father,” Lucy commented. 

“Because when it came down to it, my brother couldn’t kill him and I didn’t allow him to. We told my father what he wanted to hear and that’s that.” 

“You killed Jesse’s father,” Tim understood. “That’s why he came after y/n, to hurt you in the same way you hurt him.” 

Diego nodded, “I loved my daughter and I wanted a better life for her. You gave her that,” He said looking at Tim. “Which is why I am here to help you guys find her, what you do with me after that doesn’t matter. All I want is for her to be safe.” 

Tim understood what he meant, the feeling of just wanting his daughter to be safe regardless of what could happen to him. He would do the same in a heartbeat if it meant he could have y/n here safe and sound. 

“How can we trust you?” Angela asked. 

“You can’t, but then what other option do you guys have?” Diego asked. 

Tim sighed, “Do you have any leads on where they might be keeping her?” He ignored the looks he got from Angela and followed Diego over to the board that had all of their leads. 

“Do you trust him?” Angela asked Lucy, they both watched Diego and Tim talk off to the side. 

“If it means getting back y/n, then I do,” Lucy said. 

~~

It’s been over a month. Over a month and y/n had been starved, deprived of water and sleep. She felt like she was going insane as she was held up in a small room with only a mattress on the floor.  For over the past hour, she had listened to the muffled voices outside the door, every moment that passed she had hoped to hear some sort of salvation in this pit of hell. 

The door opened and the man, whom she knew by the name of Hugo, came in and hastily picked y/n up from her position on the mattress. Her heart quickened as she was led into the main room, which to her looked like an old office. 

Before she could muster up the strength to say anything, she heard a voice call out from the end of the room, “She’s the spitting image of her mother,” a man scoffed as he appeared from the shadows. 

Hugo places y/n on a chair, before tying her hands behind her, “W-what’s going on?” 

The man who had just spoken, grabbed y/n by the chin, inspecting the bruise on her eye, “Who did this?” 

“S-Sergio,” Hugo stuttered. “Ya sabes como se enoja,” (you know how he gets angry. 

The man took in a deep breath, “I’ll deal with him later.” his attention focused back on y/n, “I always knew you would grow up to look just like Camilla.” 

“Who’s Camilla?” Y/n asked. 

“Why you’re mother of-” The man smirks, “Of course,” he said in realization, “you still think Isabella and Gael are your actual parents. We have a lot to uncover then.” 

Y/n looked at him with a confused expression, was Gael and Isabella, not her parents? They had raised her, she remembered seeing photos of them with her as a baby, even as a newborn. It didn’t make any sense to her. 

“You must be wondering, ‘Jesse, what do you mean?’ well, let me explain it to you,” Jesse, the man from the shadows, began to explain, “Your real father is Diego, Gael’s brother, your mother died while giving birth to you and so your father, Diego sent you with his brother to the states. Before he did that, the cowards killed my father. I took revenge when I killed Gael, but upon coming up to recent news, I found out that it wasn’t Gael who killed my father, but Diego. So, here I am out seeking revenge for my father’s death again.” 

This all felt too much to unfold, the man who y/n mourned, the one she thought was her father was just her uncle. It didn’t make her feel any less of him, but it made everything… different. 

“What are you going to do with me?” y/n asked. 

“Have you ever been to a rage room y/n? I hear they’re pretty popular in Los Angeles?” Jesse asked as he walked over to a table that was off to the side, on the table y/n could see tools that ranged from hammers to even a drill. 

her eyes widened as the fear crept up within her when she saw Jesse grabbing the hammer. “I’ve always wanted to go to one, let out all the anger I felt since my father’s death. I have let that anger live within me for far too long and I think it’s time to let it out, don’t you think?” Jesse smirked as he glanced over at y/n. 

~~

 Over the past week, Diego, Tim, Lucy, and Angela had spent most of their time in Lucy’s apartment. Diego calls people one after the other trying to figure out where Jesse could be holding y/n. He felt it was somewhere in Mexico, given that Jesse rarely came to the States unless something went wrong with his shipment. For the most part, it was Diego’s men who searched every lead they had in Mexico, it wasn’t until today that they finally had a breakthrough. 

Diego came rushing into the apartment, “I got something!” he yelled, phone in his hand as he rushed over to Tim. Diego hesitated, “I-I don’t know if you should look, it was even hard for me to see this photo.” 

Tim prepared himself for what he would see, “Show me.” 

“Tim,” Angela warned with concern in her voice. 

He shook his head, “No, Angela, I need to see her.” 

Diego showed them the photo of y/n. In the photo, she was tied to a chair, she was bruised from head to toe, with blood covering most of her body. Tim held back a sob as he read the sign that was hung around her neck. 

‘Esto es para mi papa,’ it read. (This is for my father)

“The window in the back shows the ocean. I know that view from anywhere. It’s where me and Jesse met for the first time, where our friendship began and ended,” Diego explained. “I can get you on a plane there tonight.” 

“No, if this is where she is at, we have to do this the right way,” Angela began. “The LAPD-” 

“The LAPD doesn’t have jurisdiction in Mexico, if anything you would have to call the feds and you know the feds wouldn’t care about a little girl that is kidnapped unless there is a big bust for them.” 

Tim sighed, “he’s right.” 

“So we just join him to Mexico?” Angela asks. 

“We take matters into our own hands like we did to save you.” 

Angela thought about it for a moment, she knew what they were doing was risky, but it was a risk Tim was willing to take to get his daughter back. A risk they made to get Angela back when she was kidnapped not too long ago too. 

“Alright,” Angela said. 

It wasn’t long until they were on the plane to Mexico City where Diego said the old office was. Tim and Angela mentally prepared themselves for what was about to happen, one they didn’t know if they could trust the people they were with, and second, they didn’t know what kind of condition y/n would be in. 

Lucy wanted to join them but decided to stay back just in case. She was in constant communication with Tim just in case something were to happen. 

“We’re almost there,” Diego announces as he comes back from the cockpit area and takes a seat on one of the chairs. “My men are ready to meet us at the landing zone, we will head straight to the building when we land,” he began to explain. “I’ll have a paramedic waiting nearby to take care of any injuries on y/n.” 

“You can pull those kind of strings?” Tim asked. 

“With the right kind of money, yes,” Diego smirked. 

Angela scoffed, “I have a question for you,” Diego nodded for her to continue, “Why let Gael take y/n? Why not live a life outside of this business with your daughter?” 

Diego sighed, placing the glass of alcohol back down on the small table in front of him, “Because my brother and his wife could give her something I never could have.” 

“What’s that?” Tim asked. 

“Family.” 

“I disagree, I think you don’t need a mom and a dad to be a family. It’s ideal, but look at where she’s at now, no offense, Tim,” Angela said. 

Diego nodded in agreement, “Alright, you caught me.” He took a swig of his drink before placing the now-empty glass back down, “The first week was the hardest,” Diego admitted. “Then as she began to grow, I just couldn’t do it. She reminded me so much of Camilla… It hurt to even look at her. Gael and Isabella couldn’t have kids and the way they always loved her as her own, I just felt like they would have given her the love I couldn’t give her.” 

Tears began to form in his eyes, “and I was right. I was told Gael and Isabella died trying to protect y/n. They made sure she was hidden so she wouldn’t be” Diego choked on his words, “I don’t regret the decision I made, I just regret that I couldn’t save them.” 

“Patron, Hemos aterrizado, ” (Boss, we’ve landed) One of the flight attendants said to Diego, quickly walking back over to the flight attendant station in the front of the plane. 

“That’s our ten-minute mark,” Angela commented. 

Tim felt his heartbeat quicken, anxious to get out of this plane and find y/n. He felt every minute that went by was a minute too long, a minute too late. 

~~ 

Y/n cried out in pain as Jesse backed away, he shook his hand, wincing in pain. 

“Ah, don’t worry, little y/n. Soon enough you won’t be feeling any more pain,” Jesse winked as he walked back over to the table. For the past week since Jesse had made an appearance, it had been constant torture for y/n. The only break she had was when Jesse left to go eat or sleep, otherwise he found entertainment in torturing her with different techniques. 

“P-Please,” y/n begged. 

He jammed a knife into the table, he let out an annoyed groan before grabbing a piece of cloth that was nearby. Walking over to y/n, Jesse jammed the cloth into her mouth and then tied it on the back of her head. 

“That’s better,” he smiled, walking back over to the table. He grabs the knife again and walks over to y/n, “Cuando yo estaba mas joven,” Jesse began to say, “when I was about your age actually, the girls used to grab a knife and make these marks on their skin,” he traced the knife along Y/n’s wrists, “Ahh, just like these,” he says as he traces the white lines that were scattered along y/n’s wrists. Scars that told of a past of darkness that she once battled. 

“Let’s have some fun,” he winked, letting the knife sink into y/n’s skin along her abdomen, she screamed into the piece of cloth that was in her mouth. Jesse let go of the knife, leaving it in her abdomen, walking back over to the table, and grabbing a large bowl of water.

Jesse walked back over to Y/n, she frantically shook her head, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He smirks as he dunks her head in the bowl, leaving it there for a minute before letting her back up for air. 

Y/n tried her best to hold her breath, but with her mouth being gagged she found it more difficult than the last time. She hoped he was done for the night, that any moment he would walk out of that room. 

“Can’t forget about this,” Jesse comments as he takes the knife out of y/n’s abdomen causing a rush of blood to ooze out. 

The door abruptly opens, “We’ve got a problem,” Hugo says with urgency. 

“Can’t you handle it?” Jesse says through gritted teeth. 

Hugo shakes his head, “It’s Diego, he’s here and he has company.” 

Jesse groans in frustration, walking over to the table to drop off the bowl and knife. He sees a piece of rope, it is now or never, and he grabs it. 

~~ 

Tim followed one of Diego’s men through the building, searching room by room for y/n. He was surprised by the small amount of guards that were within the building so far, it could only mean that the main floor would have more. 

Jose, the man who was taking the lead, led them to the final and top floor. Tim could hear a couple of shots before he heard people grunting, “She’s in here!” Jose yells out. Tim looked back at Angela who nodded for him to go as she walked over to one of Diego’s men who had one of Jesse’s men on the ground. 

Tim quickly rushed into the room Jose had called out from, he scanned the room, seeing Jose with Jesse on the ground. Then his eyes darted to the small figure on the chair, “Y/N!” He calls out as he runs over to her, quickly untying her hands. Y/n slumps over in her seat, Tim is quick to lean her body against him, helping her onto the floor. 

“Hon, it’s me,” he says, not getting a response from y/n. “Come on, baby girl, you gotta wake up for me,” the tears began to form in his eyes, he felt for a pulse, it was weak but it was there. He looks over at Jesse, “What did you do?!” 

Jesse smirks, his eyes darting over to the door. Tim looks behind him to see Diego at the door, “Ojo por ojo.” (an eye for an eye) 

Diego felt the anger rise within him, he felt like he was on autopilot as he pulled the gun out from his back holster, pointing it at Jesse without hesitation, he pulled the trigger. 

“Now we’re even,” Diego mutters. He pulls his attention back over to Y/n and Tim, quickly noticing the pull of blood forming before them, “she’s bleeding,” he quickly takes off his coat, handing it to Tim. 

Tim presses the coat on the stab wound, “we need to get her to the paramedic,” Diego says. Tim picks Y/n up, following Diego down the flight of stairs and outside to the paramedics. Tim got into the ambulance with Y/n, he held her hand throughout the whole ride. 

He couldn’t help but notice the condition her body was in, the scars on her body, the bruises, and the mark that was red around her neck. If they had been a second late, she probably would’ve been gone. No, Tim couldn’t think that way. She’s safe now, she’s alive and she’s with him. 

~~ 

Tim stayed by y/n’s side every single day at the hospital. It had been a couple of days and she had yet to wake up, the doctors said it was due to her injuries, but Tim was worried it could be something worse. Eventually, they were given the okay to transfer back to the States. 

To Tim’s surprise, Diego never made an appearance at the hospital in Mexico City. He kept his promise, he helped them find y/n, and to Tim, that was all that mattered. 

Once they were back in the States, Tim couldn’t find the courage to leave y/ns bedside still. He continued to wait for her to wake up, the doctors told him to give her body time to recover but just wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to know that he was sorry. 

“Wake up,” Tim whispered as he gently placed his hand on the side of y/n’s face, “You need to wake up, hon.” 

Tim felt his eyes getting the best of him, he let out a deep sigh as he laid back in his chair. Lettin sleep overcome him. 

It was only an hour after Tim had fallen asleep that y/n began to wake up, the lights from the room blinded her as she opened her eyes, an instant headache. y/n groaned, wincing from the brightness, “Dad?” she called out. 

Tim thought it was odd that the elephant in his dream was calling him dad, slowly he was driven out of his dreams and jumped up. He frantically looked around, “Dad?” he heard y/n say. 

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” Tim announced, getting up from his seat and running out to the hall, “she’s awake!” he announced to one of the nurses, and they both rushed back into the room together. 

The nurse quickly checked y/n’s vitals and her stitches, “We’ll have to do some more testing, but from what I can tell, you’ll be making a full recovery,” she announced with a smile. “I’ll be back to check on you in an hour, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles as she walks out of the room. 

Tim pulls you in for a hug, careful not to hurt her further, “you’re awake,” he breathed out. 

y/n let out a relieved breath, holding onto Tim as tight as she could. y/n felt tears brimming her eyes as a sob escaped her lips. Tim rubbed small circles on her back, “I-I thought I was never gonna see you again,” she sobs. 

Tim places a small kiss on the top of her forehead, “You’re safe now,” he says as he lies on the bed with y/n, never letting go of her hug. “That’s all that matters to me right now.” 

“How did you find me?” 

“We had some help,” Tim explains. 

“Was it from Diego?” Tim looked at her with a surprised expression, “Jesse told me everything, he knew Diego was on his trail.” 

“Diego mentioned that,” Tim sighed, “How do you feel?” 

“Like I’m probably gonna need therapy for the rest of my life,” she comments, letting out a small chuckle. 

Tim couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’ll get you the best therapist there is, I’ll even get you a thousand stuffed animals if that makes you feel better for a thousand minutes. Hell, I’ll even get you another dog, I don’t care, just as I know you are home and you are safe and sound.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile, but it soon falters, “Do we have to talk about what happened?” she asks. 

“Not if you don’t want to, I’ll understand if you want to talk to a therapist instead. What you went through was heavy and…. I’ll understand.” 

She nods, Tim watches as her mind wanders off, “I thought I was gonna die,” she begins to say, “and for a moment all I could think about was missing you. Missing our Sunday brunches with Kojo and even missing our softball practices.” She looks at Tim with tears in her eyes, “I was so scared.” 

“I should’ve been able to protect you,” Tim whispers. “I’m so sorry, y/n.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Y/n says, “I don’t blame you at all for any of it, you’ve always been there. You’ve protected me from the first moment I met you and you have never stopped.” 

Tim felt a surge of love and pride within him, he had helped raise a brave young woman whom he was proud to call his daughter. 

“I love you,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss on y/n’s forehead, his voice choking with emotion. “You are indeed the strongest person I know and I will always be here for you, no matter what.” 

Y/n leaned against his shoulder, and the two of them lay there in silence for a moment before turning the T.V. on. He knew that he was going to need to help her through the tough times ahead, juggling a normal life with school and friends while also dealing with this trauma. Tim knew the next few months were not going to be easy, but he was more than willing to be the rock y/n needed to get through this. It all seemed fine now, but he knew the emotional toll a traumatic event like this could be on a grown adult, but imagine a teenager. 

It was a lot to take in and it was going to be a lot of therapy. 

For now, all that mattered to Tim was that Y/N was found and she was now safe and sound. 

[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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[agentnico]

Werewolf by Night (2022) Review

Anyone else agree the Marvel Studios logo is super indulgent? Their title card before each film/tv show is over 30 seconds long as is, and additionally in Werewolf by Night the Marvel Studios logo is shown three times - first comes “Marvel Studios Special Presentation”, then followed by the usual half-a-minute title logo and then straight away ‘Marvel Studios Presents’. Like yes, we get it, you guys are a big deal. So much so that you have managed to get away with making a load of content after Avengers: Endgame and most of it being a pile of sh**, yet still make the dollar. Yep, I said it. Get your act together Feige. When’s that Deadpool/Wolverine crossover scheduled for? 

Plot: On a dark and sombre night, a secret cabal of monster hunters emerge from the shadows and gather at the Bloodstone Temple following the death of their leader; the attendees are thrust into a mysterious and deadly competition for a powerful relic.

So following my little rant at the beginning of this review about how bad Phase 4 of the MCU has been, Werewolf by Night is actually quite good. Yep, talk about smooth transitions. My point is though what makes this Disney+ offering stand out is that it shows that the folks at Marvel are at least trying to attempt something different here. A call-back to the 30s/40s era of Universal monster movies, with the black-and-white grainy filter and over-the-top characters and featuring, well, monsters. 

Interestingly enough this also happens to be the directorial debut of Michael Giacchino. For those wondering why that name may sound familiar, this cool geezer *never will I ever use the word ‘geezer’ again, that felt weird and peculiar territory which I will never tread towards ever again, I do apologise*, any way, so this cool Giacchino dude is the man that’s been composing all the cool blockbuster movies that Hans Zimmer hasn’t for the past few years. Like this fella’s done it all - think Star Trek, think Planet of the Apes, think Star Wars, think Pixar, Jurassic World, Batman, fricking Cars 2! What hasn’t this guy composed!? Well, the Lord of the Rings fan within me acknowledges he never did any Middle Earth music, but let’s be honest, who would dare compete with Howard Shore! Ah just remember when Aragorn, Frodo and the fellowship walk through the misty mountains towards Caradhras as Shore plunges his orchestra to the mighty depths of Khazad-Dum and you can feel the instruments literally burning the atmosphere with its mastery!!! Sorry, I’ve recently been thinking of rewatching the Lord of the Rings trilogy, so I’m a bit in the zone. 

Anyway, that Giacchino guy, what did he do? Well, he directed Werewolf by Night and you can tell a composer directed this project, as the use of sound and music to build up tension and build to the bigger moments in the scenes here could have only been accomplished by a man with a very acute sense of hearing. And overall Giacchino seems to be a fan of those aforementioned monster movies. The use of retro style smoke and mirrors, cigarette burns and the use of practical effects, especially for the main werewolf that is evidently inspired by The Wolf Man, however I couldn’t unsee Nicholas Hoult’s Beast from the X-Men movies. It all does look really cool, and very unique, and though it never hits the cheesy level high’s of those original monster movies such as Dracula and Frankenstein, it’s a very unique direction for a Marvel production. I have also seen many other reviews mention how this is a gorier MCU outing, and I can see where they are coming from, but due to the use of black and white they are able to get away with it, as you don’t see any blood colours. As such its pretty harmless in that regard.

I enjoyed Werewolf by Night. Gael Garcia Bernal brings his usual likeable relatable vulnerability to the lead role, and Michael Giacchino exhibits qualities of a filmmaker who actually cares to bring something different to the table, yet not afraid to take inspiration from previous great works. Heck, where other Marvel projects would try to go bigger, Giacchino opts to go smaller. When the transformation of the werewolf occurs, he does so off-screen, and the camera instead slowly zooms closer and closer on the face of the terrified Elsa (played by Laura Donnelly) as we see only the shadowy silhouette of the man turning into a monster. It’s a neat trick that really heightens the tension and anticipation… and when we finally do see the werewolf, we then can enjoy a very satisfying rampage. But perhaps the biggest treat is Harriet Sansom Harris as Verusa, Ulysses’ widow and the night’s master of ceremonies, delivering an over-the-top performance that gives the whole affair huge theater-kid energy. Then again, there’s also a character named Ted in this thing, and he’s an example of comedy in Marvel done right. But no spoilers, if you’re wondering about who Ted is, you’re just going to have to go and watch Werewolf by Night.

Overall score: 7/10

[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?”

[bisexualhobi]

The whole " jimin x hobi tambien, which reminded me.... them as the Korean Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna" has me rolling! If anyone's seen the movie Gael and Diego did together years ago...👀

This is so accurate it hurts. Your blog gives me so much joy after a yucky day of work. Lol! Thank you!

y tu mamá también is such a fucking classic.... yeah i think we should all benefit from watching that movie. make sure to imagine jimin and hobi in the same scenario they fit perfectly for some reason 😭

[wearelondonhq]

(it's bea!) welcome to london, LOGAN NELSON! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like MATT CZUCHRY? well, no matter, we hear that you are 32 and working as a DOCTOR. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from SAW and have a tendency to be CONNIVING as well as NEUROTIC.  (it's bea!) welcome to london, DIEGO CORTEZ! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like GAEL GARCIA BERNAL? well, no matter, we hear that you are 38 and working as a CON-ARTIST/TAXI DRIVER. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from SAW X and have a tendency to be CHARMING as well as COWARDLY. 

— WELCOME TO LONDON, logan nelson & diego cortez! you look very familiar, do we know you from somewhere? anyways, take your time settling in because whether you want to or not, it looks like you’re going to be living here for awhile! // welcome bea, please be sure to follow our checklist here. welcome to the group!

[lilpunkrock]

Devour

Pairing: Jack Russell x Fem!Reader

AN: @diamond-punk2003 thought we needed a reverse of "Primal," and I wholeheartedly agreed. So, I hope you all enjoy yet another post-Halloween, Halloween-themed drabble!

Read "Primal" here.

. . .

“Jack, these are the same costumes as last year.”

Your puzzled gaze shifts from the Little Red Riding Hood costume lying on the couch to the wide, self-satisfied grin on your boyfriend’s face. Olive eyes dancing with delight, he scoops up the hooded cape and sets to work tying it around your shoulders. “Ay, that’s where you’re wrong, mi amor. Because this year, we are switching. This year, I am the Wolf.” 

You cock your eyebrow at him in a challenge. “What, you weren’t pleased with my performance last year?” you inquire with a narrowly-suppressed grin. 

Jack smiles widely as he finishes tying his knot and slips the hood over your hair. He leans in to place a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, a gesture that sends your stomach scattering with butterflies. “Of course you did, mi amor. You were perfect. But passing up the chance to show you my Wolf would be a shame.” 

Laughter draws your lips into a grin as you watch him walk toward the lightswitch on the living room wall. “Where’s your costume, then?” you ask. 

Jack poises one finger on the lightswitch, ready to flick. When he turns to gaze at you from across the living room, the smug curve of his pink lips and the spark of mischief in his eyes are downright devilish. Static skitters down your spine as the breath slips from your lungs. He holds your gaze until the lightswitch gives a soft click. “This is a little different from the story you’ve heard before.”

Darkness. 

Immediately, you turn in a circle, disoriented. With the lights off and the curtains closed, you’ve been plunged into pure, unabashed darkness. When Jack’s honey-sweet voice whispers to you from within the inky black, it sounds as if it’s coming from everywhere, all at once. “When I was growing up, mi familia would tell me a tale that had been passed down for generations. It was the story of a young, beautiful woman who went to visit her abuela in the woods. She was as sweet as could be, bringing her abuela wine and cake. However, when the woman lingered too long, she found herself walking home through the woods in complete darkness. It was then that she encountered el hombre lobo.”

When you feel something warm and solid press against your back, you nearly jump out of your skin. Only the familiar rumble of laughter in Jack’s chest keeps your heart from flying out of your throat. “Shit! You scared me.” You turn around, reaching for him blindly in the darkness. When your fingers find the familiar sturdiness of his shoulders and the curved grin of his lips, your heartbeat slows. “So, this wolfman…was he handsome?”

In spite of the darkness, you can picture the amusement dancing in his eyes, the adorable crinkle that surfaces between his dark brows as he whispers, “Oh, yes, mi cariño. Devilishly so. Muy guapo.”

You chuckle, rapping your knuckles against his chest affectionately. “Well, maybe Little Red was lucky, then. How does the rest of the story go?”

Jack’s breath is warm against your face. “How do you think it went?” he murmurs softly. 

Your lips part in surprise at his words. Though you give no immediate reply, Jack remains silent. Expectation and anticipation hang heavy in the air. Slowly, a small smile works onto your lips. So, he wanted to play coy? You could give him coy. 

Slowly, you trace a feather-light touch up Jack’s arm, across his shoulder, to the nape of his neck. When you curl your fingers in his salt-and-pepper hair and give a gentle tug, a delicious rumble purrs in his throat. Electricity crackles through you at the sound, scattering logical thought from your brain as something primal in your soul responds in kind. “Sir, what thick hair you have,” you murmur, relishing in the feel of the soft strands between your fingers.

That soft hair brushes your cheek as Jack dips his head into the hollow of your throat. When he places a soft, warm kiss to your collarbone, you swear the darkness glimmers with stars. “The better to keep you warm with, mi cariño,” he breathes into your skin. 

Narrowly suppressing a shudder, you cup his face in your hands. Though you can’t see his features, your thumbs trace the familiar pads under his eyes, the strong curve of his brow. “But sir, what beautiful eyes you have.” 

Jack presses his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss to your nose, below your eyes, along your cheekbones, the corners of your lips. You couldn’t suppress the hum of approval that escapes you if you tried. “The better to drink you in with, mi cariño.”

Your heart flutters at the warmth in his tone, a heat that seeps through your skin and settles in your gut. You draw in a deep, slow breath, seeking to calm your hammering heart. Even in the darkness, you feel his lips pull into a grin at the sound of it, each beat a vow, a prayer, a devotion. “What a strong nose you have, sir,” you whisper, tracing the outline of his prominent nose with the tip of your thumb. 

The speed with which Jack spins you around is admittedly inhuman. In the space between heartbeats, you find your back pressed flush against his torso, his sturdy arms wrapped around you with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. Jack nestles his nose past the hooded cape you wear, burrowing into the hollow of your throat. The way his chest swells against your back as he draws your scent in deeper, deeper, deeper, feels sinful. The way he holds the air in his lungs like a treasure he never wants to part with feels like worship. Your eyelashes flutter shut as you lean into him, submitting to the storm of sensation raging in you. “The better to savor you with, mi cariño,” he growls against your skin. 

A gentle pressure surfaces at the back of your neck as Jack presses his thumbs along either side of your spine. He kneads purposefully with a rhythm that seems agonizingly slow compared to the dizzying rush of thoughts and sensations within you. Displeased with the barrier of the cape between you, you tilt your head back, allowing it to slip from your crown so that his touch can press against your skin, instead.

Jack’s lips smile against the shell of your ear as he places a kiss to the soft flesh there. “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, his tone lilting slightly with amusement. 

You give only a quiet hum of resignation in response. Sure, you were always up for a challenge. But maybe, just this once, you could wave your white flag early, accept your defeat with grace and gratitude. If it made you feel like this, it was a victory worth losing. “What big bands you have,” you breathe as he kneads down your neck and along your shoulders, your defiance slipping away with every stroke of his touch.

“The better to hold you with,” Jack murmurs as his hands venture down, down, down. His fingers caress each curve and dip and swell as if it’s for the first time, as if he’s making a map of you by touch alone. His fingers trace constellations over you in the darkness, the soft whisper of sweet endearments in every language he knows a beloved lullaby in your ear. 

You’re not sure how you muster the strength to speak, but when you do, the sentence slips over your lips like a prayer. “What a wickedly beautiful mouth you have.” 

Jack’s exploratory touch slows. A whine nearly tears from your throat as he draws his mouth from your ear. However, you can’t suppress the primal sound that escapes you when he sweeps your hair aside and presses his lips to that sacred spot on the back of your neck, just below your hairline. 

It’s the killing blow, the spot that only he knows. Your soul sings at the glide of his lips against your skin. Warm, adoring, reverent. Your mind short-circuits as he trails kisses from your hairline to the tip of your spine. When his fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips, wanting and insistent, every nerve ending under your skin fires instantaneously. So much love, so much need, so much feeling, and nowhere for it to go. 

You’re going to spontaneously combust. You’re sure of it. It’s the only option. The air is so thick with intimacy that you can scarcely breathe. 

Some distant part of your mind where your last semblance of coherent thought lies reminds you of last Halloween. Of the scarlet flush of Jack’s cheeks when he’d seen his costume, the honey-sweet song of his laughter as you’d played the part of the Wolf, the overwhelming feeling of adoration and rightness that had filled your soul to the brim as his lips melted against yours. Once, you had thought the only thing in this world that might truly satisfy you would be to open up your soul and swallow him whole. Now, you realize the only destiny that could rival such a fate is to be swallowed whole.  To bear every fragment of your being to him and have him love you anyway. To crawl inside his heart and make your home there, to spend the rest of your days basking in the brilliant, all-consuming radiance that was him. 

“The better to eat you with,” he whispers against your skin.

For a long moment, all is silent. It takes you several breaths and a desperate attempt to wrangle your thoughts to realize that he’s waiting for you. Waiting to hear what you’ll say next. “I—I don’t know what comes next,” you stammer. 

The finger that Jack presses to the underside of your chin is gentle, his touch affectionate. Slowly, he turns you to face him. Though you can’t see his expression in the opaque darkness, when you shift one hand to rest over his heart, you feel the eager thrum of his heartbeat jump into your palm. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum. 

That familiar song doesn’t lie. It tells you exactly what’s coming next.  

As Jack lowers his lips to your ear, a grin of anticipation pulls at your own. “This is the part where I devour you.”

. . .

Translations:

"Mi amor" — "My love"

"Mi familia" — "My family"

"Abuela" — "Grandmother"

"El hombre lobo" — "The Wolf Man"

"Mi cariño" — "Sweetheart," "my darling"

"Muy guapo" — "Very handsome"

. . .

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