#jackrussellxreader

You made a sharp turn, leapt over a fallen log, and ran like you never had before.

The full moon was so bright that everything was almost as visible as in daytime. Without it, you were sure that you would be dead by now. You would have stumbled in the dark and been killed by this thing hours ago. 

Moving fast was your only lifeline on this freezing, deadly night.

Whatever was chasing you seemed to fade away. You stopped hearing it. 

After running so far and so fast, you finally took a second to catch your breath.

After just a moment of being still, your body reawakened to all the growing concerns that it had been ignoring in favor of adrenaline: Your toes being icicles, your lost breath misting into the cruel night, your hunger, your exhaustion, the cut on your ankle that you had barely registered when you sprinted through sharp pine brush.

You checked your ankle and saw that it was bleeding a lot.

“Shit, no…” You whispered and pressed the palm of your hand against the gash. You hissed at the pain that you caused.

Something crunched in the forest.

You straightened up and listened. Your heart pumped like crazy, getting you ready to run again as you waited, frozen in place like a terrified little rabbit. You didn’t even move your head to look around, scanning only with your eyes. 

You didn’t breathe.

There was another snap of a branch. Then a low, rumbling sound. 

It sounded like it was coming from somewhere in front of you. Like the beast had circled you. 

You started shivering in fear.

More low rumbling, accompanied by inhuman, heavy breathing.

Closer now.

You swallowed thickly and tried a shaky whisper, “Jack?”

Silence.

You waited in frightened silence. Seconds felt like hours.

The horrifying waiting game was broken by a growl in a new direction.

A growl. 

You let yourself take a breath. “Jack?” 

Nothing happened. More eerie silence. 

“Please be you…” you whispered to yourself. 

You scanned the forest.

A shadow sprinted from one tree trunk to another. You gasped.

Ready to run for your life on a millisecond’s notice, you whispered like a mantra, “Please be you, please be you, please be you. Fuck! Jack, baby, come on!” 

Something trampled through the forest and created a big, looming shadow in the moonlight. You thought you were ready to run, but you felt like your feet had frozen to the forest floor, as if frosty tendrils had crept up and latched around your boots. 

The monster eclipsed the moon, and your heart sank.

That shape, that thing, was most definitely not your husband, Jack Russell. 

It was a wendigo.

A huge, ugly, cannibalistic wendigo emerged in the moonlight.

You wanted to scream, but it was like your voice was muted by some jerk with the TV remote.

The wendigo charged at you. 

As your heart pumped adrenaline, all you could think was: dodge between its legs when it lunges.

A wolf-like howl stopped the wendigo’s charge. It looked for the source. 

The very werewolf you were hoping for leapt from the shadows and pounced on the wendigo, knocking it down to the ground.

Jack snarled as he fought with the beast twice his size. 

You couldn’t make yourself look away from the horrifying display in front of you. Even while you cringed, even while you screamed.

Jack finally got his teeth around that thing’s neck and killed it. He didn’t exactly stop there, however. He kept tearing it to shreds with his claws after it was already dead, as if he had to make damn sure. He finally paused and tested to see if the wendigo would move. He growled and bit its neck a couple more times for good measure. 

There was almost disappointment in the way that he walked a few steps away from his kill. Too easy for him. My god, he had shown no mercy.

Jack looked at you and growled.

You didn’t run; running induced chase. Running induced hunt mode. 

So you vowed to stay right where you were no matter what.

He pounced on you. 

You landed hard. Flat on your back in the sticks and leaves, with all his weight on top of you. 

You might as well have been hit by a train, as he knocked the air out of your lungs, and you had to gasp in a breath. 

Despite that tremendously rough greeting, you managed to keep looking into his eyes.

Shivering and labored breathing were inevitable. You were still practically gasping, but you tried your very best not to show your teeth. You still felt scared, yes, but not as scared as the first few times that this happened.

He stared into your eyes, challenging you to look away, but you didn’t. He sniffed in your scent a few times. He eased up just a little, not crushing you with all his weight anymore. 

You blinked once, slowly and calmly. You stroked his face. He didn’t even flinch this time, and that almost made you want to celebrate. 

“Thank you,” you told him softly.

He wouldn’t understand your words in this condition, but he just might understand your sentiment. And if nothing else, your voice was soothing to him.

After a moment, he abruptly got off you. 

Jack started to run away, but then looked back at you again. 

You were still watching him as you warily stood back up.

“Thank you, Jack.”

He didn’t seem to have any reaction. Finally, he huffed and looked away from you. He ran back into the woods growling and snarling. He was eager to move on, eager to find more prey and rip it to shreds.

You sighed in relief. You hugged yourself to try to warm up, but it was short lived when you felt that your torso was soaked with blood. It took you a moment of shock to register that it wasn’t your blood, it was the wendigo’s blood that Jack had gotten on you. You gagged and shivered like a convulsion. 

“Ugh. Fuck…” You desperately wanted to shed your bloody jacket in disgust, but that bloody jacket was still keeping you just a hint above hypothermia.

You forced your mind to focus. Focus now, succumb to exhaustion later, when you were safe. Or safe enough. It was clear to you now that your husband was watching out for you. He may be in a completely feral state, but he had stayed close enough to protect you. So at least there was that.

But with him being in that completely feral werewolf state, that also unfortunately meant that you were still on your own with all the other aspects of your survival. Like not dying from the elements, for example. 

You shivered and your teeth chattered.

First priority: A fire.

You needed to build a fire somehow, without any tools or equipment whatsoever. 

You eyed all the snapped branches left behind by the wendigo’s path. Some of that firewood was already cut up for you…sort of.

***

Two full hours of shivering and swearing later, you got a fire started with the mangled birch wood, some brush tinder, and vigorous friction. 

When you were certain that the fire’s lifespan was good for at least a few hours, you finally sat back against the nearby tree trunk and exhaled. Your body shivered violently as it warmed up. Your fingers were looking red, almost frostbitten. It was like waking up from the dead. You hugged yourself tightly.

You lost some time. Maybe only a few minutes. When you startled awake, you realized that everything was fine, relatively, and the fire was just crackling loudly. 

The next priority: The cut on your ankle.

You gladly shed your wendigo bloodied jacket at last. A sharp stick aided you in ripping some of the cloth from the inside pockets to use as a bandage. 

There wasn’t exactly any antiseptic lying around. Wrapping your ankle tightly with the make-shift bandage was the best you could do for now. 

Third priority: Shelter.

You forced your exhausted legs to carry you again. 

As you got to work building a rudimentary shelter in the form of a lean-to, your mind drifted to the traumatizing mystery of how you and Jack had ended up in this fucked situation in the first place. 

It felt like weeks ago now, but it was only yesterday.  

You were passengers in a helicopter, flying to meet Elsa Bloodstone at a secret location that only Jack had been to before.

Jack said that she was summoning you both for your safety. 

You swallowed thickly, remembering how you had asked Jack if he could trust her. 

Jack had assured you, “Aside from Ted, she’s the only other person we can trust.”

So you believed him. And you still did now, but after what happened next, you weren’t so sure that you believed Elsa.

The pilot and co-pilot had seemed so friendly. They loaded up your luggage for you. But you were stupid not to suspect something when they insisted that even your small backpack had to go in the storage compartment instead of staying with you. They gave some polite reasoning about the weight distribution on the small craft, and you had just gone with it.

That backpack had a satellite phone in it. It had pepper spray, it had a knife, it had food and water….painkillers. You wanted to go back and time and kick those pilots in the teeth for taking all that away, and yourself for letting them.

Jack had been more subdued than usual, and you knew it was because he was afraid. On top of the unnerving situation, he was afraid of himself, as the full moon was looming. 

You knew that he was too hard on himself, that he didn’t need to worry with all his self-control and checks in place, but he didn’t see flying in a tiny, confined helicopter as a great idea at the time. But he trusted Elsa that much, it seemed.

“We’ll be on the ground at Elsa’s mansion before the moon comes up,” you had reassured him a hundred times before the flight. “Then we can lock you in the hunting grounds until morning.”

But the flight seemed to take longer than expected. It became dark out. Tension was clearly building in your husband as he sat very stiff and still in his chair like he was trying not to snap.

The memory was all so hectic, so hard to remember exactly what happened.

One minute you were joking around with those pilots about President Ritson’s cowardly mannerisms, the next, they were commanding you to brace yourself as you hit rocky turbulence. The helicopter seemed to swerve like a car fishtailing on an icy road. 

You remembered not being able to see anything at all out the windows. There were no lights from man-made structures on the ground. You weren’t even sure if there was a ground at the time. There was just complete darkness.

You remembered not being able to reach Jack’s hand.

The pilot had said, “Just hold on! We have to do an emergency landing.” 

They had landed the helicopter in what felt like the bumpiest ride of your life. You think you blocked most of that out. Jack, despite all that chaos, all that stressful stimulation, had still managed not to turn. And for that, you were so damn proud of him.

When you disembarked the helicopter on shaky legs, the air around you was curiously still. You had expected an epic storm based on what you had just experienced. But no, the air was just freezing, and wet, and still.

You went to open the storage compartment for your luggage, and that was the moment shit went even more wrong.

The pilot pulled a gun on you. On both of you.

You both backed away like good little con victims. 

They locked the doors, started the helicopter, and flew away. Leaving you both behind with nothing but the clothes on your backs. 

Just thinking about the whole ordeal sent a shiver up your spine. 

Last priority before you let yourself pass out: A weapon.

You found a suitable stick and a rock. Your hands got cut and splintered as you figured out how to carve the stick into a basic spear. 

The repetitive scraping of the rock against wood allowed you to reflect on the events of earlier in the night once again.

As the helicopter abandoned you, you were busy with your own string of curses, and Jack had hunched over, collapsed on his knees. “No, no, no, nooooo…not now. Not now.”

You had looked at him and instantly knew that he wasn’t complaining about the pilots like you were. He was complaining about the moon.

The full moon was rising above the tops of the trees like a bright yellow omen of doom.

He had clutched and then tore at this body with shaking hands, like he was trying to rip the urge to turn into his werewolf half out of his chest.

“Baby…” you tried.

“Run amor! You should run away from me right now!” He groaned out the words like he was in pain.

“It’s okay, Jack. We know you’re not going to hurt me,” you had tried to reassure him. And god, you didn’t want to be alone. Not after what had just happened. “Baby, you know me. You know you’d never-”

“Damn it mujer! Do what I tell you! Run and hide ahora! C-Can’t- trust myself!” He had interrupted with a loud growl. You recognized his desperation, but it had still cut through you like a knife at the time. 

Your husband was a gentle, soft-spoken, often goofy, and almost always submissive man. For him to yell at you like that meant that he was absolutely losing it. His grip on the rational, human half of himself was slipping away, and it terrified him in that moment more than ever before.

You stood there for a second longer, stunned.

He panted as he struggled to hold back for long enough to give you a head start. He managed two more desperate words. “Please amor!”

He began to painfully and loudly transform. 

You turned and ran.

You had gotten some distance away, maybe miles, before the wendigo chase happened.

You finished the spear and then added some more wood to the fire. With your most immediate survival priorities taken care of, the worry for your husband settled the most deeply in your heart and sickened your stomach.

He may be a violent force right now, unaffected by the freezing air and able to defend himself with teeth and claws, but the moon was going down. 

Soon the sun would rise, and he’d go back to being just as vulnerable as you were. And there was no telling how far away he’d be.

You swallowed a tearful gag in your throat. 

More wood on the fire, that was the answer. 

He could find you by the smoke. 

Otherwise, you’d go looking for him. But right now, you needed to rest and conserve your body heat.

***Part 2***

Early the next morning, you crawled out of your lean-to and noticed that the fire was down to its last embers. “Shit…”

You scrambled to collect more sticks and revive the fire.

A couple hours later, you had managed to craft a water canteen using the leather parts of your jacket and your boot laces.  You used it to carefully boil a clump of snow into drinking water over the fire.

The melted water inside was just reaching a boil, when you heard a twig snap in the woods. 

You stood up and scanned the forest.

Footsteps crunched in the snowy leaf bed. You hurried over in the direction of the sound.

A few more yards away from your little campsite, Jack’s human form collapsed on the ground. He groaned.

“Jack!” You ran to him.

“Mi amor,” he groaned and tried to lift his head. His black pants were horribly ripped and dirty, the shirt and jacket from his suit were gone, leaving his body cruelly vulnerable to the cold. And you had thought the cut on your ankle was gnarly, but he was crisscrossed with shallow lacerations. 

“Oh hell, baby boy…” You tried to lift him, but he didn’t cooperate with that yet and so you only managed to turn him on his back.

“I’m so glad to see you, my love,” he mumbled. 

He looked pale and he felt like ice.

“Let’s get you to the fire.” You tried to lift him up again and succeeded this time.

That was the last thing Jack remembered before he passed out. He woke up again under the lean-to on the bed of pine. You were tending to his many cuts with some lichen that you had found and knew to be naturally antiseptic.

He shifted and mumbled. “My sweet, what… what’s happening?”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You kissed his face.

He groaned like every muscle in his body ached. “No…no… what happened?” 

“I’m applying some… rough and ready first aid. Do you think you can sit up and drink some water?”

“Thank you…thank you mi amor. But I meant….” He shifted to look down at his body with disdain. “Dios mio…” he groaned.

“Shh baby, what did you mean?”

“I meant what the hell happened last nigh- Are you okay?” His concern for you switched on like a light and suddenly he was more awake and alert. 

“I’m okay.”

He hoisted himself onto his side. “Are you sure?” 

You laughed humorlessly. “Yes, Jackie! I’m doing a lot better than you right now. You need to rest.”

He noticed your bandaged ankle. “Your leg-” he started.

“-is fine,” you finished. “I’m fine. Stop your worrying.”

He sighed and managed a weak smile. “Yes, my bossy sweet.”

“Good boy.” You helped him sit up.

You lifted the leather canteen to his lips. 

“You found water?”

“Yeah, it’s called boiled snow. Drink.”

He nodded and drank with your help.

You made sure that he drank a lot before letting him lie back down and rest again.

He was asleep again in minutes. You used the opportunity to go scope out the area in the daylight.

***

When Jack woke up again, he found that you had covered him up with something to stay warm. It was his own ripped suit-jacket. 

You crawled under the lean-to. “Are you feeling better yet, wolf boy?” 

He nodded. “You found my jacket?”

“Yeah, your shirt wasn’t salvageable though, sorry.” You dragged him upwards until he helped you by sitting up again.

“I made some tea, it’ll help.” You crawled out to grab the hot canteen by the fire and then rejoined him.

“Tea? How did you-?”

“Shh” you shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Birch bark and rose hips,” you answered his unfinished question. “Don’t worry, it’s only a lot disgusting, drink.”

He scoffed and laughed as you put the canteen to his lips.

“C’mon baby, it’s hot. It’ll help you warm up.”

“Gracias, amor.” He sipped it.

He took the canteen from you carefully. His arms didn’t seem as weak anymore. He took another sip without your help.

“I feel stronger already.”

“Good boy,” you praised softly.

You backed out of the lean-to and sat by the fire. 

After a while, Jack emerged from the lean-to with plenty of groaning. He sat down next to you with the steaming canteen ready to sip. You couldn’t help but think about how hot he looked with his salt and pepper hair all ruffled up and that ripped jacket over his shoulders, failing to cover the front of his thin, scarred body. You felt a wave of attraction for him.

He kissed your cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You shrugged.

“For taking care of me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for taking care of you, wolf boy. It’s in our vows, remember?”

“Hmm, oh yes, there was a little something in there about that, something…something…in sickness and in health, right?”

“I’m obligated,” you teased.

  He smirked. “You are so amazing.”

You shook your head.

“You survived the night all alone. Look at everything you’ve done. You saved my life. I’d be dead if you hadn’t warmed me up, my love. You’re so amazing,” he repeated.

You couldn’t believe that you were blushing at a time like this. “Yeah, well. You saved me from a fucking wendigo first so…”

He groaned like an ailing hospital patient, “Oh si, verdad, the fucking wendigo!” 

You couldn’t help a tiny laugh. He rarely dropped the f-bomb, and when he did, it sounded like a kid trying it for the first time to sound cool on the school bus.

"Do you remember?” you asked.

“Kind of, my love,” he explained reluctantly. “Kind of.”

When he looked back into your eyes, he could see that you wanted more, if he was willing to open up.

He offered a tired sigh and a bit more explanation. “I remember smelling it, wanting to kill it, needing to kill it because of…you.”

You smiled a little to try to reassure him. Killing, despite what his werewolf curse might have one think, was not at all in his human nature. When he came back to his human self, it was the killing that haunted him long afterwards.

He tagged on just to be humorous, “And I remember it fucking bit me!”

You choked back a laugh. “You poor baby.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He stroked your arm. “You must have been…so afraid.”

“I was,” you admitted. “But I’m fine now. We need to think about what to do next.”

Jack’s hand froze on your arm as he seemed to suddenly remember something. “I think we’re on an island.”

“Really?”

“I remember that in every direction I ran, I’d reach the smell of salt water sooner or later.”

“Interesting…you wouldn’t happen to remember smelling any human civilizations would you? Or even some abandoned cabin…” you half-joked, half-asked. 

He shook his head and exhaled dramatically. “We must be on some little island off of… Canada? Or maybe Alaska?”

You agreed. “Well, that would explain the wendigo… sort of.” 

You both fell into a concerned silence for a moment as he sipped the tea, and you gathered your thoughts.

You directed, “When you feel ready, we should try to find the shore. The shore means a better chance of spotting boats or planes, and we could try to catch fish to eat.”

You stood up. 

He reached for you. “I’m ready now amor, but I can’t even think about eating ever again.”

You helped him up. “Dare I ask why?”

He recalled like it was a bad dream, “Think I ate a moose…”

“Mm, lovely. Well, that’s another sign pointing to Canada.” 

You made him smile with your candor. 

That was what was important. 

You were stuck in this freezing place fighting for your survival for reasons you didn’t even understand yet, but at least you had each other.

***

Jack, despite claiming earlier that he would never eat again, seemed pretty ravenous as he ate his roasted fish later that day.

You had speared both the fish for yourself and for him. Again, outside of his werewolf curse, your husband was humorously bad at killing anything, even a fish. Though he was happy to praise your skills.

When there was nothing left but a few delicate fish bones to throw back into the fire, Jack got something off his chest, “I’m sorry about…” he sighed, “that… way that I yelled at you.”

“What are you talking about?” You had genuinely forgotten.

He tried to understand, “You don’t remember? Just before I turned?”

“Oh, that? It’s okay. I know you were just trying to protect me.”

“Yes, but…” he hesitated.

“I knew it was coming from a place of love, and fear. I understand.” 

He sighed in relief. “Yes, amor. Exactly.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby boy. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He kissed you like you were an angel sent to lift his curse. Like you were such a relief. He stroked your face afterwards. “I still feel like I should apologize because-”

“Jack! I was pretty distracted getting chased by a wendigo and trying not to die all night. I moved on!” You chuckled.

“Ah si claro… priorities.” He chuckled.

Your next kiss was interrupted by a startling sound coming from the ocean. It was like a creature exhaling hard.

You both scanned the dark water as best as you could, fearful of what you might see.

Then a giant, iconic fin broke the surface.

“It’s okay, it’s just orcas.” You beamed at the sight of more orcas surfacing to breathe.

“Ay dios, I was expecting a sea monster with the way our luck is going.”

You exhaled. “Yeah. Nope, just beautiful whales this time.”

The orcas left the shoreline soon after you had sighted them.

Jack took your hand and urged you to sit back down close to the fire.  

You took turns boiling water in the canteen and watching the stars.

Jack seemed less relaxed than you were, and you knew that it was because of all the moonlight. The night sky was gorgeous enough with that, but then came a spectacle.

The sky lit up with long ribbons of green and purple that took your breath away.

“The northern lights?” Jack questioned, “I never thought I’d see that in my life.”

“This place is beautiful.”

“Si…muy bonita.”

“I mean, utterly terrifying and deadly without supplies, but… beautiful.”

“Agreed.”

You held each other’s cold hands and watched the display in the night sky. When it started to fade, you noticed how Jack was shivering.

“I’ll get more firewood before we try to sleep,” you said.

He shivered violently and hugged himself as soon as you let go of him. “Gracias mi amor. I wasn’t built for this cold.”

Anyone could plainly see that neither his thin frame nor his Mexican blood was doing him any favors in this climate.

You built the fire back up to a roaring heat.

Then you coaxed him into lying down with you near the fire to sleep. 

Face to face, you hugged each other as close together as possible for maximum warmth. 

“Thank you for being so good to me,” he said softly to your ear. 

You withdrew just enough to look into his eyes, even though you could hardly see each other by the flickering light of the fire. You stroked his face. “Hm, you don’t have to thank me, handsome.”

“I do,” he said, “How can I show you how grateful I am?”

“You don’t have t- Oh!” Jack kissed your neck, causing you to moan. He opened your jacket.

He teased your ear with his voice, “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they my sweet?” He groped your breasts over your shirt. 

You moaned and had to agree. “Yes, Jack. Yes they do.”

Your husband smirked and lifted your shirt up to your neck. He knew that sucking on your tits was a guaranteed way to make you very happy with him.

He pulled one of your bra cups down and took your breast out of its confines.  Then he licked his lips and sucked on your sensitive nipple. It felt so good that you thought you could cry.

“Oh! Good boy…” you moaned. 

You stroked your fingers through his hair as he sucked.

He pressed his hard cock against your thigh.

A warm cocktail of arousal and oxytocin spread from your head to your toes. It was so powerful, it seemed to protect you from the cold air even better than your jacket ever could.

“Mmm!” you purred and moaned. His suckling had an urgent quality tonight. He writhed against you like he couldn’t possibly stay still, thrusting his hard cock against your thigh more and more vigorously.

The way that he was still inhaling long and slow through his nose as he sucked your tit told you that your scent must be driving him crazy.

You realized that this wasn’t just about thanking you. It was also about his current condition… and yours.

With the moon still almost full tonight, it was enough to give him rather strong instincts. And you had missed enough birth control pills now that you were almost certainly ovulating…

The suction that he was creating around your nipple became a little overwhelming.

“Gentle,” you hissed. “Jackie boy, be gentle.” 

He was succumbing to instincts, instincts that you knew from experience made him do everything a bit rougher. And they were difficult for him to ‘wake up’ from. You groped down the back of his pants and used your nails to give his ass a sharp little pinch. 

He whined.

You were careful not to break skin, you just needed him to wake up from his instincts a little.

“Gentle, baby,” you repeated now that he was ‘awake’.

That seemed to do the trick.

He rolled you onto your back as he continued, holding your breast with one hand to keep it fully pert in his mouth.

You moaned and spread your legs for him. You had your own instincts after all, and they were also extremely difficult to ‘override’ with rational thought. How Jack controlled any of his much stronger instincts at all was a mystery to you.

He eagerly took his place between your legs and writhed against your crotch. 

Then he finally released your breast, giving it a couple final kisses, and then switched to sucking on your neck. He ghosted his teeth over your tender skin a few times. 

“I can smell how wet you are, my love,” he growled. “I know you’re ready for me. I know you’re receptive. I can smell that you’re ovulating.” He moaned, “It makes me want to fill you with my cock.”

“Ohh please!” you moaned, already way too into him to have a care in the world.

But he paused for a moment, until you looked at him questioningly, and he pulled back.

“But maybe I shouldn’t… since you are ovulating.”

“Are you really so sure that I am?” you asked. You were desperate for him to say no; he wasn’t sure, or maybe that he was just saying that as part of his kinks and that it wasn’t necessarily true. But you knew it was.

“Trust me, my sweet. I can tell by your scent.”

“Yeah? It’s… it’s really driving you crazy?”

“It’s making me insane.” He panted. “Oh mi vida, stop me before I can’t stop myself.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you breathed. “Whatever happens to us on this island, or afterwards… I just want this to happen first. Please Jack.”

He shook his head as he pulled off his suit jacket like he was suddenly way too hot. “I don’t want to get too rough.”

“I can take it, baby.”

His breath hitched, and even in the near darkness, you could tell that he was trying to hold back instinct and process rational thought one last time.

“Please?” You prodded him. 

He exhaled a shaky breath.  

You straddled his lap, grinding your crotch down on his. “Pleaseee baby, I need you.”

He growled against your neck, and it was more wolf than human. It thrilled you in the form of shivers up your spine.

“Damn it, Jack! I want you to fuck me, and I want you to be rough with me! Please!”

He forced you on your back, much to your delight.

“I can give you that, my love.”

He grabbed your shirt.

“But don’t rip off my clothes this time!” You stopped him right before he did exactly that.

“Right, of course amor.” He regained enough sense to remember that these were your only clothes, and you chuckled together for a moment. 

When both your clothes were carefully peeled off, he let himself go again, growling against your neck, groping down to your pussy urgently. 

“Oh mi vida, you’re so wet.”

He pressed the heel of his palm to your mound, and you begged. “Please!”

You didn’t have to beg for much longer. It was true that he could be a tease during other times of the month, but tonight, he was in no condition to draw this out any longer.

Jack was propped up above you when he notched the head of his stiff cock between your soft folds. You watched him fill your tight channel in one slow thrust.

“Ffffuuuck!” you moaned and let your head fall back.

He gasped. “Ohhh dios….!” His fingers clawed into your hips.

He settled on top of you and started thrusting like mad.

Your every nerve ending felt orgasmic. It felt like you could feel the sensation on every inch of your skin, like just one more brush of his skin on yours would cause a chain reaction of ecstasy.

He moaned and growled. “Aih! Por favor… my sweet…” he gasped in your ear and then sucked on your neck.

You were way too distracted to begin to guess what he was saying ‘please’ for.

He traced the side of your neck with his teeth, gently mocking a bite.

Now you understood, but another thrust of his cock reached you just right, and words failed you.

“Mmh!” He moaned into your neck. “Please amor, I need to bite. Just a little. Please?” He slowed his thrusts to give you the capacity to answer him. “Just a little. I promise. Not too hard, my sweet.”

You moaned impatiently. “Yes, baby! Bite me as hard as you want. Just keep fucking me while you do it, please!”

He growled and increased his pace again. Your moans became screams as he pounded you just the way you needed. He kissed down your neck and chose the place where your neck met your shoulder to leave his love bite. 

He started off gentle, but your pleasured cries intoxicated him, and he let himself bite down harder.

With all the bliss he was giving you with his cock, the hint of pain on your neck only served to heighten your arousal. It was a dangerous feeling that you craved when instinct took over, when you needed him to be primal.

Your pussy clenched around him. He slammed you over and over, pounding you through your climax. He pulled animalistic screams from your throat.

He growled against your neck and squeezed your arms tight enough to bruise.

You came down from your own orgasm with a heightened sense of bliss. 

You ran your hand through his hair and clutched the back of his neck. You could feel him holding his breath. “Come inside me, baby.”

He exhaled the breath he was holding and came right then. He gripped you even tighter and his cum rocketed against your fluttering walls.

He stayed sheathed inside you even as he let himself rest on top of you.  

“Good boy,” you whispered and stroked his hair.

When he caught his breath, he asked, “I hope I didn’t bite too hard, my love?” He touched the mark on your neck, but it was hard to study it in the dark.

“Not at all, wolf boy,” you promised.

He kissed your ear and then inhaled your scent as deeply as possible. “Ohh mi amor, you still smell so good.”

“I love when you get like this, baby,” you moaned.

You felt his cock stiffen and grow inside you all over again.

He groaned. “I’m glad for that mi amor, because I think I’m going to need you again.”

You failed to mask the delight in your voice, “Really?”

He suddenly pulled out. He roughly flipped you over onto your front.

“Oh!” You gasped.

“Yes,” he growled his answer. “Need to take you again.”

He pushed his hard cock inside you from behind this time. 

You cried out sinfully.

If his thrusting the first time was like a mad man, this time it was like a mad man possessed.

Jack covered your mouth to muffle your screams. He latched onto you as tightly as possible. It was like he needed to envelope you. The relentless thrusting was a special kind of heaven that you would gladly die for. He humped you like he was in rut.

Like he couldn’t fucking hold back if he tried.

Your voice cracked when you screamed with pleasure into his hand. 

Your tight pussy milked his cock on its own accord as you came, a natural process that took over without conscious thought, much like everything he was doing to you.

Jack bit down roughly on the untouched side of your neck as he came inside you.

The pain was sharp, but welcome nonetheless. 

When his cock finished subtly twitching inside you, he exhaled against your neck. He gave the bite area so many soft, contrite kisses. 

You relaxed fully. “Oh Jack, that felt so amazing.”

“I love you.” His voice nearly broke.

“I love you too.”

He carefully shifted you both onto your sides without withdrawing his cock.  

“If you don’t mind my sweet… I’d like to stay inside you for a while.”

You smiled at the return of his normal inclination to ask for things sweetly and submissively, a stark contrast to his instinct haze. “Mmm of course baby. Stay nice and warm inside me.”

***

It had been an enchanting night in an otherwise disastrous scenario, but the next day brought more survival challenges. For one thing, it snowed. The two of you couldn’t do much but stay by the fire and conserve energy.

You posited hopefully, “If this is an island off the west coast of Canada, then we’re likely on the route of bush planes and cruise ships.”

But another day went by, and no planes or boats were seen.

You conceded, “Maybe we should try another side of the island.”

Jack agreed, “I think that’s a good idea, mi amor. If we don’t keep moving, our scents will build up in one place, and it will be easier for a monster to find us.” 

You smiled at his werewolf-style reasoning. “Good point.”

You and Jack used your spears as walking sticks and began a long hike along the coast. 

The two of you eventually broached the topic of who could be responsible for stranding you on this island, and why.

You both only had vague guesswork to run by each other.

At the risk of an argument, you finally shared your own suspicion, “Baby, I know that you and Elsa have a… history. But can we honestly rule her out?”

“Claro que si!” he practically gasped out.

“How are you so sure? Whatever she did to save your life and Ted’s life went along with her plan to take back her estate at the time. What you might see as selfless could’ve all just been ulterior motives.”

He just shook his head and chuckled under his breath.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ah… how can I say this?”

“What? Just say it,” you demanded, but your tone became playful when you sensed where this was going.

“Well, my sweet, caring wife. You are sometimes…hmm… let’s say…‘mistrusting’…of people I talk to when they just happen to be…”

You stopped walking and waited.

“…a woman.”

“Oh I get it. You’re saying I’m jealous.”

“Well…” Jack hesitated painfully.

“In that case, husband, I have a song for you.”

“…no.”

You started singing the song anyway, “If I had words, to make a day for you…”

“Nooo come on. Not nice!”

“I’d sing you a morning, golden and true.” You kept singing despite his continued protests. “I would make this day…last for all time.”

He waited with an accusing look for the punchline.

“And fill the night deep with moonshine!” You finished and laughed.

“So mean,” he scolded jokingly.

“Fineee, you have a point.” You sighed. “Maybe I am just jealous.”

“You don’t need to be jealous, my love.”

“You can say that all you want, doesn’t make it true.”

“Now you’re just being mean to yourself.”

“Wait Jack, do you hear that?”

You both froze and listened.

The mechanical whirring sound got louder. You both shared a moment of recognition; it sounded like a helicopter.

You both frantically searched the skies as the sound grew louder in your ears, but it wasn’t easy to see around you in this heavily forested area.

Then the helicopter flew directly over you.

“It’s landing! Jack, it’s trying to land!” You yelled over the noise excitedly.

You both ran after the landing helicopter, trying not to lose its trajectory. Suddenly Jack stopped and yanked you back against him.

“What?” You startled.

“I smell danger,” he told you.

The whirring of the helicopter stopped. Silence filled the breeze again. Until you both heard an all too familiar roar. 

You sucked in rapid breaths.

A wendigo emerged from behind some trees.

You whispered harshly, “Oh come on, is this fucking ‘Wendigo Island’ or something!

The wendigo had sniffed you out and now homed in on your exact location.

“Jack… any chance you can make yourself turn?”

Jack bit his lip before responding apologetically, “No, I can’t.”

“Okay,” you said simply and readied your spear.

Jack copied you.

The wendigo charged towards you.

Your heart lurched in your chest. 

The beast was abruptly halted by a machete through its torso.

It roared and collapsed, revealing the woman with pale skin and dark raven hair that had just skewered it in the back.

She looked at you and Jack like an exasperated sigh.

“Elsa!?” Jack cheered.

“I told you that you and your wife were in danger. Are you ready to get off this shit island or what?”

Just then, Ted emerged from the forest and ran to Elsa’s side.

“Ted!” Jack celebrated.

As Jack and Ted playfully hugged, you debated whether to cover up Jack’s bite marks on your neck with your hair. You realized that Elsa was looking right at you and decided to just let the marks show like badges of honor.

“Thank you so much for finding us! Do you know who stranded us here?” Jack asked her.

Elsa nodded. “That was a group called the Intelligencia, and I think they were rather hoping to watch you tear your wife to shreds.”

Jack looked like she had just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“I’m glad to see that you didn’t. At least not in the way that they expected.” She winked at you.

You blushed, despite yourself. A wonderful surprise.

“Uh… does that mean that there are hidden cameras on this island…?” Jack winced.

“Probably. How about we leave now, and worry about that later?”

“Great idea,” you said with relief.

You and Jack held hands during the entire flight back to the mainland.