Berry!!

22yrs!! I mostly reblog lol but I do make arts!! I am heavily against ai!! Pansexual | Asian 🇵🇭| Fem NOT OPEN FOR COMMISSION.

[zaynezone]

happy birthday pt 1 @studiosuni

"Oh we don't need the dessert menu, thank you."

Valko and Zayne glance at each other, then back at you. The waiter is gone before they can interject, which is almost the (non existent) cherry on top.

"You don't want dessert?" Valko pouts, and you have to resist the urge to call the waiter back immediately at the sight of his sad puppy dog eyes.

"We don't always need dessert, right?" You grin, meeting Zayne's gaze with probably too much mirth in your eyes. He raises a brow at your antics, but shrugs as he concedes.

"I agree. We can always eat dessert at home."

In hindsight, you should have just let them have that damn chocolate cake.

"Please! I can't-can't cum again!" You nearly scream as you fall apart on Zayne's tongue, hips jerking against his mouth as he works you through the aftershocks.

"Come on, one more? It's only fair I get a taste too." Valko grins, canines flashing as he nudges Zayne over. They're both situated between your legs, happily sharing for once.

"You-you already had your turn" You whine, feeling his tongue drag over your inner thigh.

"Mhm but Zayne got to go twice. I want another turn too." He knows exactly what he's doing, hot breath making you squirm under him.

"O-okay okay you can go a-again." He dives in the moment the words leave your lips, making you cry out immediately. You're still so sensitive, but it's hard to complain when it feels this good.

"Having fun?" Zayne murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. You didn't notice him move to your side, though the distraction is welcome.

"It-fuck-it's too much V-Valko!"

"Don't worry, you can take it. Besides...it's almost time for your dessert."

[sailortongue]

EMPLOYEE BENEFITS

pairing: valko x cat-hybrid!reader

summary: after a full day of teasing his feline secretary, valko finally gets her all to himself

wc: 2.7k

content: smut, unprotected sex, scenting, breeding, knotting, does it still count as semi-public if everyone has gone home, employer/employee

an: give him back infold

The rapid clacking of keyboards and dry rustling of papers filled the bullpen, occasionally punctuated by bits of idle chatter. You kept your focus on the thick stack of documents in front of you.  Near your desk, the heavy office door swung open.

Your cat ears perked, instantly tracking the distinct, heavy rhythm of his leather shoes as he approached. He came to a halt right at your side, his massive frame towering over your seated figure. The sharp, intoxicating scent of his cologne flooded your senses. 

“Good morning, Mr. Chairman,” you said, keeping your voice strictly neutral. If you gave him even a sliver of friendly opening, he had a terrible habit of derailing the entire morning. 

“Good morning, Ms. Secretary,” he greeted jovially. Valko leaned one large hand on the polished wood of your desk, his tailored suit shifting with the movement. He looked every bit the impressive wolf hybrid who ran an entire tech company. When you finally looked up, he locked eyes with you. A wicked smirk pulled at his lips, his heavy tail giving a slow swish behind him. 

With a slow, deliberate nudge, he pushed a stray pen off the desk’s edge. Before it could drop more than a few inches, your feline reflexes snapped. Your hand blurred through the air, catching the pen mid-fall. You halted its descent perfectly, giving your boss exactly the show he had been looking for. 

Your ears flattened sideways as your tail flicked with agitation. You fixed him with a sharp glare, but his blatant amusement was written all over his face. 

“Sir, please,” you hissed under your breath, trying not to draw the attention of your coworkers. “I’m trying to concentrate, and I know for a fact you have a meeting later today to prepare for.”

He ignored the protest entirely. Instead, he leaned down closer into your space, his ears pulled backwards, almost flat against his head, like a dog waiting to be given affection. “Excellent reflexes, kitty. Keep up the good work,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. 

He straightened up, turning on his heel to saunter back into his private office. He had clearly walked out with the sole purpose of disrupting your day, entirely for his own enjoyment. 

By mid-afternoon, your nerves were frayed from a constant awareness of the office door behind you. You needed a breather, and, more importantly, you needed fifty copies of the third-quarter financial portfolio organized and stapled.

You escaped to the copy room, a narrow, windowless shoebox of a space that perpetually smelled of ink and dust. The massive industrial printer took up most of the room, leaving only a narrow corridor between the machine and the supply shelves. 

You loaded the master files into the machine, pressed start, and let out a sigh as it began its rhythmic whirring.

The heavy door clicked open behind you. Your ears twitched backward, pinning flat to your hair as that familiar cologne filled the cramped room. You didn't even have to turn to know Valko had followed you. The already-small space suddenly seemed even smaller now that you were sharing it with his bulky figure.

“Need something, Mr. Chairman?” you asked, making it a point not to look at him as you watched the machine spit out copies.

“Just looking for some extra staples,” he answered, his voice entirely too close. Before you could offer to find it for him, he stepped directly into your space. His large hand landed on your waist as he maneuvered himself behind you, his solid chest brushing against your shoulder blades. You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. He leaned over you, reaching one long arm to blindly grope at the top shelf above the printer. The movement pinned you between the warm machine and his even warmer body. Heat radiated off of him, contrasting with the cool metal of his belt buckle pressing into your lower back.

“I can't seem to find it,” Valko murmured right against the extra-sensitive shell of your fluffy ear. His warm breath made your tail give an involuntary, hard twitch. “Are you sure we aren't all out, Ms. Secretary?”

He was completely blocking you in, using the excuse of a tight space to fully engulf you in his scent and to breathe yours in. Your claws instinctively pricked against your palms, desperately wanting to dig into his expensive suit just to ground yourself.

“It’s on the supply shelf, sir,” you choked out, your voice tighter than you intended. 

“Ah.” You felt the smirk in his voice. He twisted to look behind him, but still didn't release you, keeping you fully pinned to his broad chest. Keeping you trapped between his body and the machine, he slid his thigh deliberately between yours to keep his balance as he contorted his body to scan the shelves. “So it is,” he confirmed, reaching toward the half-empty box of staple refills. He finally left with the staples you were certain he didn't actually need, his fingers brushing against your hip as he slipped out behind you.

By 3:00 PM, the meeting room was full of executives intently listening to Valko speak about an upcoming project for the company. There was always something so captivating about watching him in his element at the head of the long mahogany table, and you found yourself paying more attention to how good he looked with his glasses and wanting to feel those sharp fangs sink into your skin than taking notes and keeping minutes.

“If you look here,” Valko directed, pulling a laser pointer from his pocket and clicking it on. A bright, ruby-red dot appeared on the screen. He continued speaking, using it to trace along line graphs and emphasize certain figures. He dropped it down when it was no longer needed, but it remained on, the red dot darting around the floor as Valko, to the humans gathered around the table, merely twiddled with it. 

Your pupils dilated, expanding until the irises of your eyes were practically swallowed by black. Your cat ears snapped forward, and your gaze locked onto the pesky pinprick of light as it zigzagged over the carpet.

Every single feline instinct screamed at you to pounce. Your right hand twitched, desperate to swat the light from existence. Your tail gave a hard, violent flick. You forced your eyes away from the hypnotic pull of the dot to look at the man having the time of his life toying with you despite being in a professional setting. Not that that little detail had ever stopped him before.

Valko was already looking at you, still explaining costs and financial logistics. With a subtle movement of his thumb, the dot darted just to the side of one of your shoes, and you couldn't stop your foot from attempting to stomp it out, only for it to reappear on your shoe.

You scowled, annoyed that you had fallen victim to your own instincts. From the head of the table, you heard Valko chuckle through his words, his golden eyes flicking over to you, making it very clear that you were the source of his laughter. With a final, mocking twirl of the pointer, he clicked it off, pocketing the device as if nothing had happened, and all you could do was sit in silent, exasperated rage.

The clock finally struck 5:00 PM, the workday coming to a close. The bullpen filled with a chorus of zippers, rustling coats, and goodnights as the employees filed towards the elevators. 

You were walking down one of the hallways, returning from the break room after taking a brief water break, when you saw that Valko had exited his office. His tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, exposing the thick column of his neck. The suit jacket had been discarded, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His ears swiveled forward, immediately locking onto the sound of your approaching footsteps. 

When you passed each other, he didn’t stop you in your path, but he didn’t let you simply pass by him, either. With a deliberate sweep of his heavy, maroon tail, he brushed the furry appendage against your thigh. The thick fur brushed over your skirt and briefly against the fur of your own tail, sending sparks shooting up your spine. 

You gasped, your ears pinning flat against your head as you whirled around. “Valko!”

He continued to walk, barely sparing you a glance over his shoulder, but it was enough to see the wide smile on his face, his sharp fangs showing as he laughed. 

You huffed, practically stomping back to your desk. Ordinarily, you’d preen under his attention, but what didn’t he understand about “time and place?”

When Valko returned, seeing you practically pouting at your desk, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to hear his kitty purr for him. 

“I need to see you in my office,” he said curtly, expending a tremendous amount of effort to keep his tail from wagging. 

You sighed, but followed him into his office. As soon as you were over the threshold and the door shut behind you, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his solid arms around you as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. 

“Why won’t you let me do this during the day?” he complained. It was his turn to pout, but it didn’t stop the excited wagging of his tail at having you pressed against him without putting on the charade of a respectful employer-employee relationship. 

You rolled your eyes, but melted into his warmth anyway, wrapping your arms snugly around his waist. You didn’t struggle keeping your hands to yourself as much as he did during the workday, but he made his struggle yours with all his teasing. You nuzzled your nose into his chest, and he did the same against the top of your head.

The pair of you stayed that way for a long while, savoring the proximity of the other, tails winding together. 

It was sweet, until it wasn’t enough for the canine hybrid. His hands began to wander, groping everywhere he could reach, paying special attention to where your tail was attached to your body. It was highly sensitive, and he knew that, using it to his advantage. 

You gripped onto his shirt, claws catching at the material. He tugged at your silk blouse. “Take it off?” he whispered, his voice raspy with want. 

— — —

“Valko!” you yowled, the ridges of his cock hitting every crevice inside you. Bent over his desk like this, there was nothing you could do but take every powerful thrust, your claws leaving shallow grooves in the wood of his desk as you scrambled for purchase. 

“My pretty kitty,” he babbled. “Won’t let me show everyone you’re mine. Are you embarrassed of me?”

“No- ah!- ‘m not embarrassed,” you denied. 

“Prove it, then. I gave you that mark so- hng!- everyone would know you’ve already been claimed. Use it like intended. Don’t- so tight- don't hide it tomorrow.”

You nodded mindlessly. You’d have agreed to anything if it meant he kept fucking into you like he had a score to settle. 

Valko let out a low, triumphant chuckle. A fierce warmth spread through him, utterly thrilled that everyone would soon know you were his and he was yours. 

He continued pounding into your weeping pussy, his thick tip prodding at your cervix and grunts and whines spilling from his lips. You were a pliant puddle beneath him, unable to focus on anything except his hips rutting into you with a predatory precision. 

His hands were on your hips, pulling you back into him as he pummeled your insides. Your tail was curled around his thigh, and he relished the way your body subconsciously sought him out, even when he was already buried hilt deep inside of your pretty pussy. “Doin’ so good. Mmm, squeezing down so hard.” His voice is jagged, nearly a growl.

“S-so deep! Oh!” you cried out. The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls, coupled with the sinful sounds of your lover and the wet squelching between your bodies, had you right on the edge, and he could feel it. 

You could feel the swelling bulge at the base of him, knocking into the tight resistance of your already stretched-out hole. Your breathing was coming in shallow pants, and Valko wasn’t much better, his deep grunts morphing into whimpers with every clench of your cunt around his length. 

“Gonna take my knot, baby? Gonna let me fill you up?” he rasped, his head swimming just thinking about plugging his seed deep inside you.

You nodded feverishly, a weak “uh-huh” the most you could enunciate through the mind-numbing pleasure. 

He thrusted into you deeply, pressing his hips flush against your ass, and his knot popped inside of you with a strangled gasp. The new stretch sent you reeling, every muscle tightening as your poor abused hole clamped around him, shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body. 

His heavy cock twitched inside you, spilling ropes of hot cum inside of you. He moaned freely, his golden eyes transfixed at the point where your spasming cunt swallowed him to the base, his knot keeping you connected. Valko didn't stop rutting into you, pushing his cum deep inside of you, willing it to take. 

Only when he couldn’t take the overstimulation did he collapse on top of your panting figure, careful to brace himself not to hurt you. He peppered the side of your face, your neck, everywhere he could reach with sweet kisses, praising you all the while, telling you how perfect you were for him. 

He gathered you in his arms as best he could, pulling you with him to sit on his lap in his desk chair. He smoothed your hair down, paying special attention to where your fuzzy ears attached to your head. You purred in his hold, content to have your mate dote on you while he was still buried deep inside of you.

Valko, never one to be able to resist you, nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Did you mean it? When you said you’d stop covering the mark?”

You pulled back just enough to look into his earnest eyes, wide with anticipation of your answer, a spark of fear in them that you would take it back. You flushed, but nodded shyly.

He laughed loudly and unabashedly, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. The sound of his glee was infectious, your own giggles joining the merriment. He pressed a kiss to your lips, overjoyed. “Can I scent you before work, too?”

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, but your smile gave Valko all the permission he needed. “On one condition,” you said. 

Valko’s eyebrows raised, curious as to what condition you could have.

“You have to promise me the same,” you smirked, leaning in close until your nose brushed his. Your fingers traced the line of his collarbones to the junction of his neck, where a matching bite mark was scarred into his skin. “Maybe then that annoying pomeranian in accounting will get the hint that you're taken.”

Valko’s eyes widened in surprise before a slow, deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. His tail began to thump wildly against the leather of the desk chair. “Are you jealous, sweetheart?"

“I don’t like the way she looks at you and stands too close,” you sniffed, tilting your head up in a way that reminded Valko you were no exception to feline haughtiness. 

He laughed again, the sound full of utter adoration, and squeezed your waist. “There’s no reason to be jealous. I’m yours, from the tips of my ears to the soles of my feet. I’ll let you scent me as much as you want. I’ll even make sure she smells you on me if it makes you happy.”

He gave you one more firm, possessive kiss, his ears twitching happily as he finally began to shift beneath you. “Now, c’mon, let’s get dressed. We’re going home, and I’m gonna cook whatever my sweet mate wants for supper.”

[cumchiato]

୨୧ — “Hey.” Valko's voice is rough, scratchy, but he's trying for lightness, “You still in there, sweetheart? Or did I fuck you into another dimension?”

“Mmm.”

It's the only response you can manage. Your brain is still offline, your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. You feel boneless, liquid, like someone has scooped out your insides and replaced them with warm honey.

“M’good,” you finally manage, the words slurring together, “‘M’really... really good.”

A soft huff escapes him- almost a laugh, edged with disbelief. Valko's palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing a tear track, smearing salt and sweat- and then he really looks at you.

His golden eyes travel slowly down your body.

The bruises blooming on your hips. The red marks circling your wrists. Your cum smeared thighs, your puffy, fucked out hole still weeping his seed onto the already ruined sheets, cunt gaped and swollen from his knot. Body absolutely limp against the mattress, trembling faintly with aftershocks…

The playful smile on his face... falters.

“I…” He swallows hard. His hand hovers over the finger shaped bruises on your hip, not quite touching, like he's afraid to cause more damage. “...I lost control again.”

“S’okay-”

Look at her. Wrecked. Because of me. Because I couldn't- …She's pregnant, the thought slices through him. She's carrying your pups and you still couldn't- you still-

“Valko.” Your hand finds his jaw, weak and trembling but there, “M’okay. Promise.”

He doesn't look convinced, “I should've been more careful. You're-” His gaze drops to your belly, the swell of it unmistakable now. “-you're pregnant. With twins. And I just-”

“Fucked me exactly how I wanted?” You manage a tired smile, “Yeah. Terrible. How dare you.”

A laugh escapes him, “Brat.” 

“Hmm~ But I’m your brat.”

His thumb traces your cheekbone, impossibly gentle, “In my defense, you make it really hard to hold back when you beg like that.”

You try to swat at him, but your arm just... flops. Pathetically.

He grins, “Cute.”

"Sh'up."

“Make me.” He leans down, pressing a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead, “Actually, don't. You can barely move. It wouldn't be a fair fight.” Another kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. “Don't move a muscle, not one. Doctor Valko’s orders.”

“You're not- not a doctor-”

“Hmph, well i’m your personal one tonight.”

He vanishes into the bathroom -click of the light, hiss of running water- before returning with a warm washcloth draped over his shoulder and a glass of water in hand.

“Drink first.” He tips the glass to your lips, patient, waiting while you take small sips.The first swipe of the warm cloth across your cheek is heaven. He works with focused gentleness that steals your absolute breath away- wiping the mascara threatening to stain your cheeks, the pearly streaks from your belly, the slick mess from your inner thighs. 

But his movements are almost too careful now. Like you're made of glass. Like he's terrified of breaking you further.

The cloth moves higher, and his expression shifts again- guilt flickering through the warmth as he reaches your collar. The bite mark there has dried, crusted with blood, the perfect imprint of his teeth purpling against your skin.

“Shit.” He winces, dabbing carefully at the wound. “I really did a number on you here, huh?”

“I liked it, felt good~” you mumble.

“Yeah?” A hint of that playful smirk returns. “Liked getting marked up by your big bad wolf?”

Then his gaze falls on something in the corner of the bed, “Oh, perfect.” a silly gift he'd given you months ago that had somehow become a permanent fixture in your shared space. The little stuffed wolf has button eyes and an embroidered smile, and it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever purchased.

He loves it. (He loves that you love it.)

“Look who's here,” he says, voice warm and playful as he makes the stuffed wolf bob and weave in front of your nose. “Mr. Wolfie was very concerned. He heard all that screaming and thought something terrible was happening.”

You snort weakly.

Valko pitches his voice higher, making the plush nod sagely. “‘Are you okay?' Mr. Wolfie asks. ‘That big mean wolf wasn't too rough, was he? Should I bite him?’”

“Oh my god-”

“‘I'll protect you,’” Valko continues, completely shameless, pressing the little grey snout against your cheek in a playful kiss, “‘I'm very brave. Very fierce. Grr.’”

The childish gesture is so at odds with the man who just fucked you senseless- who'd knotted you so deep you'd sobbed- that you can't help but giggle. “Valkooo,” you finally manage, pinching his nose weakly, “I'm okay.”

Then you look up at him, one hand drifting to rest on your belly, “We're all okay. All three of us. I promise.”

His ears perk up at that- both standing tall and alert, swiveling toward you like satellite dishes catching the most important signal in the world. Something in his expression cracks open, the playfulness still there (never fully gone, with him) but bleeding into something rawer underneath. Something that looks like home.

He stretches out beside you, gathering your tired body against his chest and tucking Mr. Wolfie securely in your arms. His face nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in like you're the only air worth having.

“All three of you,” he repeats softly. His palm spreads warm over the swell of your belly, right where his pups are growing. “My little pack”

His lips brush your forehead as his tail wraps around your legs and hips like a living blanket, soft fur warming every inch it touches.

“My pups,” he whispers, quiet and wondering, thumb tracing slow circles over your bump. “My beautiful wife. All mine.”

His chin comes to rest atop your head. The tail curls tighter, cocooning you in red softness,

Safe. Loved. His.

When sleep finally pulls you under, it's to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and the soft rumble of some half remembered lullaby hummed against your hair.

[lvl1l1]

If anyone else told you the big bad wolf Valko was a virgin, you would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he was, your Valko, hovering over you in his bed, ears twitching, tail thumping nervously against the mattress as he tried (and failed) to look collected.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, voice low and rough, one hand trembling slightly where it gripped your hip. His cock was heavy and flushed against your thigh, leaking steadily just from kissing and grinding. “We can stop anytime. I don’t… I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve never-“

You cupped his face, pulling him down into a slow, deep kiss until he melted against you with a soft rumble.

“I want this,” you whispered against his lips. “I want you. Right now.”

He made a broken sound and nodded, forehead pressed to yours as he lined himself up. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your entrance and your eyes widened.

Holy fuck.

You were just realising how big he was. Thicker and longer than you expected, the sheer size of him making your thighs tremble before he even pushed in.

Valko noticed your reaction immediately. “Too much?” he asked, voice tight with worry, ears flattening. “We can-“

“Don’t you dare stop,” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Just… go slow.”

He swallowed hard and pushed forward.

The stretch had your eyes fluttering shut. You gasped as he sank in inch by inch, moving slowly and carefully, his jaw clenched like he was fighting every instinct to thrust hard. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of your head, trembling.

“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice cracking. “So warm… all mine…”

He bottomed out with a soft, trembling whimper, buried to the hilt. For a moment he just stayed there, shaking, breathing hard against your neck.

“Am I… am I doing okay?” he asked shakily, clearly unsure. “Tell me if it hurts. Please.”

“You’re perfect,” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Move, Valko- please.”

He started moving. Slow, experimental thrusts at first, learning your body with every roll of his hips. But the second he found the angle that made you cry out and clench around him, instinct took over.

His pace picked up, moving with more vigor and intent, hips snapping forward with growing confidence even as he kept checking in.

“Like this?” he panted, voice wrecked. “Am I- ngh- doing good?”

You could barely understand the question. Your mind was spinning, body burning with pleasure as he fucked you so deep you felt him in your stomach. He was so thick, stretching you open so perfectly, and every thrust made you see stars.

“So good- fuck, Valko- don’t stop-“ you babbled, head thrown back, completely cockdrunk. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him like you never wanted him to leave.

Valko groaned, the sound raw and desperate. He didn’t expect it to feel this good. So tight. So warm. Gripping him like your pussy was made for him.

“Shit- you feel incredible,” he growled, hips losing rhythm as instinct completely took over. “So wet… so perfect for me…”

Then he felt it.

Something swelling at the base of his cock. His knot.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Wait- wait- I’ve never-“ He tried to pull back slightly but your legs locked tighter around him.

“Don’t- inside,” you gasped, so far gone you could barely think. “Please, Valko-“

He couldn’t hold back. With a broken moan he pushed deep and let it happen. His knot swelled, locking him inside you as he came hard, pulsing hot and thick, filling you up more than you thought possible.

The feeling of his knot stretching you, locking you together, sent you over the edge again with a cry of his name.

Valko collapsed on top of you, careful even in his haze, arms wrapping tight around your body as he shuddered through the aftershocks. His tail curled around your leg. His face stayed buried in your neck, breathing you in like you were oxygen.

“Was that… okay?” he mumbled shyly after a long moment, ears still slightly lowered even as his knot kept you tied together. “I didn’t expect… that. I’ve never… fuck, you felt too good. I couldn’t stop.”

You laughed breathlessly, fingers threading through his hair as you kissed the top of his head.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, still trembling around him. “My good boy.”

He huffed softly, but the way he nuzzled deeper into you, rumbling happily, said everything.

[sprite-candy]

For a little while, the noise of Seoul faded into the background. Huddled around a small table in their favorite late night spot, the five of them traded bites of food, quiet jokes, and tired smiles after another long day. No missions, no gang politics, no expectations just warm bowls, stolen glances, and the comfort of knowing they had each other. In a city that never truly slept, moments like these were rare, and maybe that’s why they meant the most.

[art-the-f-up]

Sometimes when you think you deserve grief, happiness feels like you're running out of time.

[tenk0shimuras]

symbol of fear amirite

[nanaqinli]

Texts w Valko <3

notes: mostly sfw, slightly suggestive. my first smau!!! it's just a small test, lmk how i did please go easy on me thank uuu ^^

[art-the-f-up]

Sometimes when you think you deserve grief, happiness feels like you're running out of time.

[lvl1l1]

Valko likes to act like he’s got his shit together.

He’ll flash you a charming, confident grin as he slides down your body, kissing along your stomach like he’s in total control. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he murmurs all smooth, like he’s doing you a casual favor. He’s getting pretty good at this boyfriend thing. He’s cool, collected even

But his tail is a fucking snitch.

The second he starts kissing down your thighs, that fluffy tail starts swishing behind him, slow at first, then faster, betraying just how excited he actually is. The closer his mouth gets to your pussy, the twitchier his ears become, flicking and turning toward every little sound you make. By the time he’s eyelevel with your core, breathing hot against your slick folds, his tail is going absolutely crazy.

He buries his face between your thighs with a deep, satisfied groan, tongue dragging up through your wetness like he’s starving. And that’s when his tail really loses it.

Thump. Thump. Thump-thump-thump.

It’s smacking loudly against the floor, then slapping the back of your calves where your legs are draped over his broad shoulders. The more he eats you out, licking, sucking, moaning into your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, the wilder it gets. His tail is just going for it, thwacking against your legs, the bed, whatever it can reach, completely out of rhythm with how hard he’s trying to look composed.

You can’t help but giggle breathlessly, threading your fingers through his hair (right at that stupidly hot undercut).

“Val… your tail is going crazy back there.”

He only growls against your clit, refusing to pull back even an inch. His ears are pinned flat with embarrassment but his tongue never stops, licking deeper, messier, more desperate. The tail just wags even harder, like it’s got a mind of its own and it’s thrilled to expose Valko for how he’s exactly where he wants to be, face buried in your sweet pussy, arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you down while he devours you.

He might not admit with words how fucking desperate he is to taste you…

…but his tail never lies.

[humanjarvis]

here with you always

synopsis: during a fruitless meeting, zayne gets a harrowing message: there’s been an emergency.

in which you wind up at your least favorite place, and zayne is the only one who can calm you down.

pairing: zayne x fem reader tags: angst, comfort, fluff, reader is injured in a car accident, reader has a fear of hospitals, mentions of blood and wounds, anxiety all around, reader is strongly attached to zayne, reader is somewhat dependent on zayne, reader is clingy as a result, reader cries, lots of skinship, zayne in scrubs, zayne reassures reader, he encourages her to prioritize herself, yvonne cameo, greyson mentions, i am not a doctor nor have i ever been to the emergency room word count: 3k

Giving his colleague time to respond, Zayne adjusts the placement of his watch on his wrist. Illuminated by the morning sun, the silver band catches on the lens of his glasses, reflecting a rhombus onto his black slacks. 

It’s the most stimulating thing about this meeting.

“I…” A swine-like wheeze reveals the hospital executive’s desperation as he turns to other stakeholders for support. “I don't love the idea of it either, Dr. Li. But what other choice is there? Akso’s profits are falling for the first time in years. Increasing the cost of care is the only way to keep up with the evolving economy!”

“And how do you suppose the hospital will operate when its clientele are priced out of our services?” 

Just as the executive’s flush turns from pink to red, the conference room door opens, saving him from what was sure to be a lackluster rebuttal. 

Dressed in her white scrubs and mask, Yvonne rushes in, frazzled and panting. Not one for impoliteness, she coughs out a hasty greeting before meeting Zayne’s gaze and making an urgent gesture.

“Excuse me,” he says, mildly disappointed to cut the debate short. He was just warming up.

Almost immediately, the tension in the air dissipates. A quiet sigh of relief slips from the executive’s mouth as the biggest adversary he’s faced since college plagiarism checkers steps into the hall. 

Several paces from the closed oak door, Yvonne turns to face Zayne, wringing her hands out with nerves. “I’m sorry to pull you away, but there’s been an emergency,” she whispers. 

Zayne squints slightly, dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Dr. Greyson should be available right now. Is there a reason wh—” 

“Your partner, Dr. Li.” It’s a rare interruption. “She was just in an accident.” 

The stairs are a blur as he rushes down them two at a time. Still, it isn't fast enough. 

“What’s happened?” Zayne demands. “Tell me everything.”

Yvonne follows closely behind him, her clogs hitting the floor on the offbeats of his heavy steps. “It was a collision with another vehicle. The other driver had only minor injuries, but hers are more serious.”

“How serious?” Careening around the corner, he nearly plows through a gaggle of interns heading toward the fifth floor. 

Typically, the sight of calm, collected Dr. Li is enough to make the younger staff gape in wonder. But frantic, distressed Dr. Li? That’s a new concept entirely.

However, as Zayne flattens his body to pass by them without hindrance, their gawking goes even less noticed than usual.

“They can’t tell the extent of the damage,” Yvonne explains. “We tried to evaluate upon arrival, but she won’t accept treatment until she sees you. When I left the ER, she was thrashing around and calling out for you.” 

“She’s afraid of hospitals,” he responds robotically.

Just a few steps farther.

The searing burn in his legs reminds him of the hike he’d gone on with you just a few days earlier. The way he tripped on a well-camouflaged branch, and you caught him with an ill-concealed snicker. The way you paused under a maple tree to catch your breath after, oblivious to the bustling beehive ten feet above you. 

“EEEEEEgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff!”

As you permanently damage the hearing of the bee on your tank top, a retaliatory snicker escapes Zayne’s lips.

“You think this is funny?” you screech, holding deathly still lest you provoke the beast on your shoulder. “I’ve never been stung before! What if I'm allergic?”

“All right, all right.” He cautiously waves the insect off with his hand, and it flies onto a nearby flower. “See? You’re safe now.” 

While you catch your breath, a dramatic hand plastered to your chest, he curls an arm around your lower back and guides you away from danger. 

At the base of the mountain, you’d stopped at an ice cream truck, gifting each other compensatory snow cones for your troubles.

That memory of you, smiling in the sun with sweat-slicked skin and blue-stained lips, won’t leave his mind. What kind of state were you in right now? Would you be able to go out like that, to laugh like that again? Would you want to?

A chill creeps through the sterile air as he finally reaches the bottom of the stairwell. With an anxious breath, he bursts through the ER doors, eyes scanning with urgency unknown.

Zayne is used to seeing people bloodied and bruised—too used to it, if you and his parents had anything to say about it. After years of stitching the broken back up again, he's grown desensitized to the most off-putting aspects of the human body. When he sees blood, he can’t afford to panic. He's got a job to do.

Now, at perhaps the one moment he can afford it the least, there's a delay in his actions. It’s immoral for him to think this way, and he'd never say it out loud, but it's not a patient who's hurt. It's not just anyone. It’s you.

You, who demoted lonely from a frequent feeling to a foreign one. You, who showed him, for the first time, how to love and be loved.

So when he sees you frenzied and bleeding, swatting at several nurses’ hands like a cornered stray making its last stand, he freezes. And in that moment, your eyes meet.

Your tired, broken whimper is what finally springs him into action. 

He rushes to your side, forcing the metallic tang of your blood a step down from salience. The nurses clear a path for him immediately. 

He tries to examine the extent of your injuries, but your attempts to cling to him make it difficult. More than once, he has to beg you to stay still. 

“It hurts,” you mewl, weakly clutching his left arm.

“I know. I know. But I need you to stay still for me, all right? Just while we figure out what's wrong.” So much blood. “Here, give me your hand.”

Your palms meet with identical iron grips. You squeeze him in pain and fear, he squeezes you in simmering panic—as well as to keep you still.

Needing to be heard but not wanting to startle you, he calls out his observations with the steadiest voice he can. “I see abrasions on the right temple and significant bruising on the upper body. The arm and shoulder lacerations will likely need staples.” 

Slowly, he lifts your lolling head to examine your unfocused eyes. “What’s your full name, and where are we right now?” 

“We’re in…” Through slurred words, you blink slowly, pausing to take in your surroundings. It’s like you’re seeing it all for the first time—the somber staff, the sobbing families, the lifeless bodies on the beds—and your face is the picture of panic. “Why…why are we here? I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

Zayne grimaces, shushing you and smoothing your hair down. “She may have a concussion as well.”

Your swollen face contorts in panic. “I have what?” 

“Shh. I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable,” he whispers. Gathering you in his arms, he rises to full height and nods swiftly to the surrounding staff. “I’m going to set her down slowly. Ensure the gurney is stable.”

Your sense of smell is the first to return to you. 

At home, you keep diffusers scattered throughout the space; it brightens your day when your favorite fragrance fills the room. 

Here—wherever here is—a piercing sterile scent burns the inside of your nose. 

Bleach and artificial lemon.

Something is wrong.

In your ears, the high-pitched hum of equipment.

On your tongue, the aftertaste of iron.

When you finally manage to crack your eyes open, blinding light forces them shut. You try again a moment later, gradually processing the thin blue gown hanging loosely on your sore frame.

It all comes flooding back. 

A sickening crash. A crushing impact. Flashing lights, loud voices.

Screeching sirens. Fragments of motion sickness.  An abrupt stop. 

A big, bright Akso sign. Shining like a beacon.

Not here. Not here. Not all alone.

Your own voice, crying out for Zayne. 

Zayne.

Where is he now?

The hospital bed groans under your thrashing body. It hurts, but it won’t be for long. He’s here somewhere, and if you can just get to him, he’ll make it better like he always does. 

Zayne. Zayne. Zayne. 

As soon as you manage to plant one foot on the ground, the door to your room swings open. 

When Zayne steps through, face weary and teal scrubs more ruffled than he’d usually allow, your body melts in relief. 

His dim hazel eyes lighten a bit when he sees that you're awake. Then, they zero in on your injured form hanging precariously off the bed. 

“Going somewhere?” His voice is flat, unamused. He crosses the room in four long strides, gently lifts your errant leg, and repositions you properly on the mattress. All the while, he expertly dodges your weakened attempts to pull him down with you. “You need to stay here. Movement can exacerbate your injuries.”

“Okay.” You swallow thickly, eyes brimming with unshed tears. This time, when you reach for him, he wraps you into his warm embrace. 

Zayne shifts to hold you as best he can, avoiding the wounds and gauze on your head, arms, and shoulders. In the silence, your breaths and heartbeats slowly start to sync.

Clutching his shirt in your fingers, you speak softly into his skin. “You weren’t here when I woke up.” It’s not an accusation, but more a lamentation.

“I’d planned to stay with you, but a patient needed an emergency operation not long after they brought you here. I was in surgery for the last five hours. I came as soon as I could.”

You start to nod into his shoulder, but he stills your head to limit your movement. Instead, you give him something between a hum and a grunt. 

“What happened?” he asks after a moment.

“I tried to take the interstate on my way to work. The one we used to practice since I was so scared of all the traffic here. But when I went to merge…I barely even saw the other car. I just remember the crash, and the ambulance, and I knew they were taking me here—I saw the sign—and I panicked. I haven’t been in the hospital since I was a kid. Every time they’d let me out of bed to walk around, there was a new family crying in the halls. I didn’t ever want to go back.” Your voice is hoarse by the time you finish—barely more than a whisper. Pulling back slightly, Zayne cracks open the bottle of water on the bedside table and holds it to your lips. You drink gratefully, wrapping both hands around his wrist.

Once you’re done, he leans in close and presses a kiss to your hair. “You’re very brave for trying that by yourself. But should something like this happen again, you can't delay getting treatment because of me. Let them help you.” 

“You know I don’t—I’ve never felt comfortable in places like this. There’s so much pain and grief here. I don’t know how you handle it.” Your throat constricts, and his hold on you tightens as wetness seeps into his shirt. “I was so scared.”

“I know. But I was, too. Not knowing what I was walking into, what kind of state you’d be in when I arrived…I was terrified.”

You bite your lip, discovering an undetected cut at the top. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you didn’t. Just promise me that you'll always make your wellbeing a priority, whether or not I’m within reach.”

“I want to. But it’s hard,” you mumble. “You’re really responsible, you know. And kind. And nice. And smart. And—”

You’re ready to prattle on, but you cut the praise short once you spot his pink-tinged cheeks. “You’re a lot of good things,” you pivot. “Most of all, you make me feel safe. But…”

“But?” he echoes, threading a hand through your hair.

“I get anxious without you,” you admit. “When I’m with you, I feel like everything will be alright, but when I'm not…it feels like the world is ending sometimes. And I'm there in the thick of it, lost and alone.” Your self-deprecating laugh worsens the ache in your chest. “I just feel like I depend on you a lot. Maybe too much.” 

He’s quiet for a few beats, constructing his response with the utmost care. “You should be able to depend on me,” he begins softly. “That's my job as your partner. But you lived many years before we met. Your agency isn’t reliant upon my physical presence, though you may feel it is.” He clears his throat. “I’d never be opposed to spending every second by your side. But when I can’t, I hope you’ll still feel me right there with you. Cheering you on, supporting you. That’s when I feel most at home.

“I could never stray too far from the one I love. So, although I may not always be present, I’m in your heart, as well as your thoughts. Even if you have to ask yourself, ‘What would Zayne do?’ to find your way forward, I trust you can come to the right answer. He would do whatever he could to keep you safe and healthy.” 

If you weren’t certain he’d scold you for moving, you’d duck your head under your blanket in embarrassment. Instead, you simply whine and avert your gaze, heart fluttering at his words. 

“You understand, don’t you?” he coaxes. “Can you take care of yourself for me?”

You purse your lips, still clutching his scrubs tight despite his ask. When you answer, your voice wavers in uncertainty. 

“I’ll try.” 

For the first part of the afternoon, Zayne keeps you company. He reads to you from Yvonne’s romance novel, supervises while you switch between games on his phone, and opens the blinds so you can people-watch from the comfort of the seventh-floor window.

When boredom strikes, you put on a game show on the midsize TV, guessing most answers wrong while he gets them right. 

When a staff member brings you a snack, you urge Zayne onto the too-small bed with you and share a tapioca pudding cup, tactfully ignoring the healthy serving of carrots on the side.

Soothed by his warmth and steady heartbeat, you feel your eyelids grow heavy after a while. In his arms, the room’s oppressive white and whirring machinery become no more than a quelled threat. But when the shrill beep of his pager cuts through the quiet, your body goes rigid with fear forgotten.  

“There’s another operation soon. I'll have to leave in a moment.”

“A-Are you sure?” Your eyes widen in dismay. “Can’t Greyson—” 

Recalling your promise from earlier, you reel yourself in and take your bottom lip between your teeth. As you lower your head and prepare to apologize, Zayne cups your warming face in his hands. You nuzzle into him greedily. 

“Greyson has already done all he can. His selflessness this afternoon is the reason I’ve been able to stay with you for this long. I suppose I owe him a coffee for that.” He curves his lips upward slightly, hoping your frowning ones will follow. “On the bright side, it’s the last surgery of the day. I'll be back here to see you once it’s over.” 

“Okay,” you whisper. You know he hears your voice break. Even if he doesn’t, you can't blink fast enough to stop the first few drops from falling.

Regret quickly takes the place of his smile. His face contorts into a grimace as he racks his brain for a solution, eventually nodding to himself resolutely. “Wait just a moment, all right? I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to do.” He kisses your hair once more, then waits for you to nod your agreement. Then, he walks briskly out of the room. 

The temperature seems to plummet. 

You curl in on yourself as best you can, the last round of painkillers wearing off fast. But Zayne brings you a warmth that’s unreachable alone.

You try to wait for him, you really do. But maybe it’s a miracle that sleep tugs at you in a place like this. 

When you pry your heavy eyelids open, the sun is just beginning to set. You’re certain you were out cold whenever Zayne returned to your room earlier, and you can’t help but groan. From the looks of it, he’s still in surgery—no telling when he’ll be back to help you spend the night in your least favorite place. 

Desperate to pass the time, you start to reach for the TV remote, only to nudge something soft tucked into your side. Upon further inspection, you recognize the hospital’s gift shop logo stitched onto a black paw pad. 

Beside you is a grinning polar bear plush, a pair of lensless spectacles sitting on its short snout. On its blue bib sits a get well soon message; between its outstretched paws is a brief note. That paradoxically legible handwriting…you’d know it anywhere. 

I’m here with you always. Take care of yourself. 

Your Zayne

[sunshine-of-rebellion]

danny chung (baby saja's VA) keeps commenting like 🫪🫪 on every kpdh related IG reel and i love it so much

[sprite-candy]

What are some of your headcanons for the Saja Boys?

Author note: I’m assuming you mean my CyberSaja au 😅 so here is a collection of some headcanons I have yet to share that have been sitting in my notes for a while

Saja boys Headcanon

* Every time they pass a photo booth, Romance insists on squeezing everyone inside for another picture.

* Nobody knows who started leaving little sticky notes around the safehouse with encouraging messages, but everyone suspects Baby. (It was actually Jinu.)

* Abby complains whenever Romance touches his hair…yet never actually stops him.

* Mystery has fallen asleep on every single one of the boys at least once.

* Derpy sleeps wherever the warmest person is. Nine times out of ten, that’s Baby.

* On nights when Gwi-Ma has been especially cruel, nobody sleeps in separate rooms they all pile into the same bed or on the same couch without saying a word.

* Jinu always makes the morning coffee. Abby says it’s terrible….he still drinks two cups every day.

* Romance has nicknames for everyone except Mystery because he insists Mystery’s actual name is already perfect.

* If one person is missing from dinner, the others won’t start eating until they come back. No one ever suggested the rule it just became one.

* Baby has the best memory for birthdays and anniversaries.

* Baby will buy something because it reminded him of one of the boys, even if it’s completely impractical.

* Baby is surprisingly competitive at arcade games.

* Every stray animal in the neighborhood somehow knows Baby is safe to approach.

* Romance can talk his way into almost anywhere… and somehow out of even worse situations.

*Romance steals everyone’s jackets because he likes when they still smell like them.

* Romance always walks on the outside of the sidewalk without realizing he’s protecting the others.

* If Romance notices someone staring at one of the boys, he’ll casually slip an arm around them just to make it clear they’re not alone.

* Romances room always smells faintly of expensive cologne and fresh flowers.

* Mystery has memorized everyone’s footsteps and can tell who’s approaching without looking.

* Mystery collects little things everyone else throws away old keycards, bottle caps, broken jewelry and keeps them in a hidden box.

* The others often forget Mystery is in the room until he quietly answers a question.

* Mystery is the only one who can calm Derpy during thunderstorms.

* Sometimes Mystery disappears for hours just to sit on rooftops and watch the city lights.

* Abby knows every shortcut, maintenance tunnel, and abandoned subway in Seoul.

* If Abby likes someone, he’ll fix something they didn’t even realize was broken.

* Abby has a terrible habit of chewing on zip ties or pencils while thinking.

* Jinu silently pays off people’s debts or hospital bills without ever telling them.

* Jinu always carries an old-fashioned pen instead of using a digital stylus because it reminds him of simpler days.

* Every meeting ends with Jinu making sure everyone gets home safely before he leaves himself.

* Jinu secretly enjoys watching the others bicker because it reminds him they’re still alive.

* Jinu is the only one Gwi-Ma can’t intimidate which earns him harsher punishments.

[leighsartworks216]

Lick, lick, lick, lick.

You sigh. "Valko, stop licking," you grumble.

He huffs, but you hear him shift behind you and the room is peacefully quiet once more.

You feel your mind start to drift away. The real world slipping like sand through your finge-

Lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick.

"Valko," you groan, back in the waking world. "Licking it isn't gonna help. Go put some itchy stuff on it."

He sighs, annoyed that he has to get up out of bed to do something about the bug bites plaguing him. Alas, he doesn't like continually disturbing you. So, he climbs out of bed, trudges to the bathroom, and grabs the itch-relief ointment. He slathers each bite thoroughly. For the moment, the itch subsides, and he crawls back into bed.

It takes longer for your consciousness to leave this time. The bed stills. Your brain registers the comforting presence of your boyfriend with you; the safety and security of the outside world. Safe enough to lay you tenderly on a raft amidst a river of clouds. It gently pushes you from shore, down stream toward-

Lick- "BLEGH!"

[cloudsfordusk]

Jinu give us attention

[cloudsfordusk]

Jinu give us attention

[sprite-candy]

Baby’s piercings showing 🩵