You can’t even recall how you ended up in this position: your pussy’s swamping hugo’s jaw, while his tongue still pistons though the riptides with ease.
“Look at me,” his voice bounced off your gummy walls. Hugo delivers a mean nip to your clit before licking an apology.
“Can’t—fuck, I can’t” you whimpered measly for the umpteenth time.
It started with a simple kiss, really. The way his lips pillowed yours and his stupid smile left you wanting more. Then there was his invasiveness. Even when your chests were smushed together, his cologne suffocated the room fighting a vacant space that didn't exist between you two.
How the fuck were you supposed to know it ended like this.
He moans a ‘goodbye’ that vibrates your tight sex like some echolocation. you can’t decide if you’re aroused or annoyed at the fact he courts your pussy as if it were an actual person.
Hugo’s voice broke your daze, “Flip on your stomach.”
He didn’t wait for you a response (not that you were in any position to give one). Seizing you by your hips, he flipped you over. With one guiding hand pressing on the small on your back, and the other lifting your hips, your body had no choice but to embrace the cold breeze kissing your wetness and the bite of Hugo’s panning gaze lingering behind you.
(i wanna finish and write more but lmk if this is trash or y’all fw it)
Hugo was huge, really really huge. Not just in height, but his build in general, his broad shoulders, his biceps, his thighs, he’s too much for you to handle, too heavy.
And you were feeling all of that weight in your pussy. Hugo had you in a mating press, he’s been going on about wanting to stuff you full of his cum, over and over again, until it takes.
“Vivi, fuck, viv-!” you whimpered, one hand gripping onto his broad shoulder, the other being pinned down my Hugo. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you moaned and whimpered his name.
“Tu es tellement serrée, mon amour.” (you're so tight, love) he groans as he continues to pound into you nonstop, “gonna fill you up..” he then looks at where the two of you are connected, the sight of your pussy soaking his cock with your juices, turns him on even more.
“C-cant take it a-anymore..” you mewled, one hand flying up to grip his hair. However he didn't seem to mind, if anything, it probably turned him on even more. “C’mon baby, you can do it.” Hugo encourages you to continue, after a few more thrusts you're whimpering his name again.
“Ah-! Vivi…” you whined as you squirted all over his cock once more. Hugo’s thrusts didn't stop, he kept pounding into you for a few more seconds, until he too came deep inside of you. Stuffing you full with his cum.
After a few passing breaths, Hugo pulls out of you, to see the mess the two of you made, even his load being huge, your poor aching hole couldn't keep it all in. “Tch, what a waste..” Hugo says as he watches it leak out of you.
He presses down meanly on your stomach, forcing more of it to spill out of you, as he decides what position to fuck you in next, one that’ll hold all of his cum.
I have a headcanon that Valko loses all of his braincells when he’s about to cum. If you’re sucking him off and it feels too good he WILL try to knot your mouth without even thinking about it until you have to pull off of him and call him a bad boy (his ears get really droopy and he tears up and apologizes like the sweetie he is). I just know he can’t think right when he’s that horny.
Big dumb puppy Valko is so yummy 🤤.
fuck omg i love this...yeah i need him he's so big and stupid...
In which Zayne has taken lessons from Penelope Bridgerton to deliver gossip to his loving girlfriend.
"I have tea"
You look up from the book you'd been reading as Zayne removes his shoes at the door, his eyes wide and his movements hurried in a manner that was so unlike him that it had you sitting up.
"Tea?" You laughed against his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you by the way of greeting before he moved to remove his coat and put down his briefcase.
"Yes" He affirmed, nodding his head, the jittery energy so vibrant that it was hard to ignore "Tea. Piping hot" He added, laughing to himself.
Your eyebrows shot up at that. Had you really influenced your boyfriend so much that he was using slang so effortlessly in his daily speech now? As Zayne finally took the space on the couch next to you, buzzing with suppressed energy, you decided that was a conversation for another time.
"What is it?"
"Okay so-" If you were shocked with how flawlessly Zayne transitioned into podcast mode, you certainly had no words to express it "Remember when we met Dr. Wilson's niece at his dinner party last month?" When you nodded, he went on "And remember when you asked me if Greyson and her were a thing?" When you nodded again, Zayne straightened, his lower lip crushed beneath his teeth in ill-concealed glee "Guess what?"
"What?" You inched closer, the throw getting tangled between your legs as you scooted into Zayne's space.
"Greyson and her hooked up that night!" Zayne waited for effect as your mouth dropped open, jaw unhinged as he resumed "Get this. While the party was going on"
"Shut up!" You squealed, one fist lightly smacking Zayne's arm "You're serious?"
"Mhm mhm, I am" He nodded, looking mighty proud before he focused on the pressing gossip at hand "That's not all though"
"Okay, you're literally edging me on purpose right now"
"She starts visiting Greyson's office at the hospital and everyone knew. I saw her thrice myself" Your mouth dropped again at that but Zayne was far from done "Ofcourse, they're keeping this tight and under the wraps because Dr. Wilson's his superior and because she's an intern, she has a valid reason to be in the hospital just- not always during the same shift"
You shrug in a "duh" gesture, signalling your boyfriend to go on "But then-" Zayne's voice drops in a conspiratorial manner "She's in the cardiology department on a day Greyson has off"
Your brows furrow at that "Why?"
Zayne is practically jittery from having to hold all this in for his entire shift "Do you remember who wasn't present for Dr. Wilson's party?" You pause, mentally accounting for all of your boyfriend's colleagues that you knew of but Zayne gets impatient "Yvonne"
Your mouth might permanently unhinge from the amount of times its dropped in the past few minutes "So? Yvonne likes Greyson?"
"No, baby-" Zayne takes hold of your arms and shakes you "The niece is also involved with Yvonne"
You can't take sitting anymore, you get up, pacing around the coffee table "Are you fucking serious?"
Zayne's laughing too, unable to comprehend the entirety of it all "Yes. She was two-timing them. The entire time"
You're still pacing, mind still reeling from everything you've heard when something clicks and you're sitting back down "How'd you find out?"
"Oh my God-" Zayne throws his head back in the most dramatic sigh you've ever seen "Apparently she was supposed to meet Greyson in the janitor's closet but Yvonne saw her first and thought she was there for her. So she-"
"Followed her inside?!-"
"-Followed her inside" Zayne's shaking his head "And two seconds later, bam-" He bumps his fists together, the most unexpected gesture he's ever made in your two year long relationship "-Greyson's there too. It was an epic showdown"
"Please tell me someone got it on camera"
Zayne pauses, taking a moment to remember if anyone might have before he shrugs "I could ask for the security footage" You gleefully clap your hands, climbing into his lap as he goes on "They're both lucky that only a handful of people found out the entire story and even luckier that none of those people are snitches"
You hum along, the situation was entertaining but could also be jeopardising for everyone involved "Well" You tap your boyfriend's nose lightly "Except you"
Zayne shoots you a sham look of annoyance "I bring you this steaming hot cup of tea and this is your thanks?"
You peck his lips quickly, hands deftly making their way underneath his shirt "Ofcourse not. I taught my boyfriend well. Just like he did me"
A/N: I cannot be convinced Zayne would not be an complete gossip monger. He's the kind to outwardly roll his eyes at any new piece of information before storing it and later piecing it together with his girlfriend.
ao3 link
rating: g
ship: zayne x mc
word count: 560
tags: fluff, cuddling
a/n: just a little timeline cleanse blurb for me. and me dipping my toes in writing again for the first time in forever.
do not repost & do not feed to ai
Q: If your beloved turns into a bug, would you still love her?
A: Why wouldn't I still love her? Now I can hide her in my pocket.
From your spot lying down on the couch, you could see the heat haze outside. The weather was humid and oppressive in its heat, making it perfect for staying indoors in a temperature controlled home. Not to mention the inclusion of your personal air conditioner, currently resting on top of you, nestled into your chest.
It was a rare day off for the two of you, and you'd both come to the conclusion that neither of you were all that willing to bear the soupy heat of the outdoors.
It'd taken some time in your relationship for you to convince Zayne to rest his body weight on top of you in such a way, and that you genuinely enjoyed it. And you did, truly. It was like being under the most comforting, good-looking, and nicely smelling weighted blanket. He'd been worried about crushing you under his weight, though that's exactly what you wanted. What'd made him finally give in to you was your very casual mentioning of the fact that he'd obviously be resting his head in between your breasts.
Which led to your current positions, and the encompassing feeling of contentment it brought the both of you.
You had your phone in one of your hands, mindlessly scrolling and occasionally showing a funny video or two to your cozy lover. Your other hand was buried in his hair, running your fingers through the short strands and lightly scratching at his scalp. If anything, the boneless way he was melting into you was a great indicator of his pleasure. You swore if he was cat he'd be purring like a motor engine.
His eyes were largely closed, except for when you called for his attention. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn't sleeping, he was just enjoying spending time glued to you.
Having had enough of social media for the moment, you let your phone drop into the couch cushions and moved that hand to rub his back. He hummed at the motion and nuzzled his nose into your chest, somehow molding even deeper with you.
"You look as snug as a bug in a rug," you spoke softly into his hair.
He hummed in affirmation, "You're a very efficient pillow. Or rug, I suppose."
"Only the best for my bug," you said with a kiss to his scalp.
"Though out of the two of us I'd say you're the bug in the relationship."
"Huh? Why's that?"
"You're very small. Minuscule, even."
"I'm average height, mind you."
"For a bug, indeed."
You lightly tugged at one of his earlobes, "You're ridiculous." He chuckled into your skin, the sensation leaving behind goosebumps.
"Well," you continued, "would you still love me if I turned into a bug?"
He opened his eyes and angled his head to look up at you, the affection in his gaze melting you from inside out. "Why wouldn't I still love you? I can put you in my pocket."
You huffed out a laugh, "Stop being cute, mister. Don't think I don't notice you're actively calling me a bug."
"You are a bug," he says matter-of-factly, "my little lovebug." He grabs ahold of your hand and brings it up to his lips, bestowing a sweet little kiss to the back of it.
"Okay, fine. But only because it sounds cute, you hear me?"
Summary: A lazy Sunday quickly spirals out of control when Valko turns laundry day into playful chaos, carrying you to the washing machine, shamelessly spanking each other before eating you out, teasing you with a metal butt plug formed from his metalization evol, and ultimately fucking you senseless on top of the washer before the cycle, and the afternoon, finally comes to a blissfully domestic end.
Word Count: 13k
Warnings/Themes: 18+ MDNI! Domestic fluff, sub!Valko, switch!Valko, dom!Valko, evol play, Valko makes you a buttplug out of his evol and spits on your hole, size kink, you spank each other, dirty talk, pet names, praise, biting, squirting, oral, eating ass and pussy.
A/n: Someone requested spanking Valko a few days ago so I incorporated a teeny bit of that here. Reblog if you enjoy! ^^
💚AO3 Link | Valko Masterlist 💚
It was supposed to be a chill Sunday. A lazy Sunday. A day dedicated entirely to sleeping in, lounging around the house, and doing absolutely nothing productive for once. Unfortunately for you…You had slept over at your boyfriend’s last night.
Valko possessed the energy of a golden retriever that had somehow been trapped inside the body of a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-ten-pound werewolf. Sitting still for more than five consecutive minutes seemed physically impossible for him. If he wasn’t working, he was working out. If he wasn’t working out, he was fixing something. If nothing needed fixing, he’d invent a project just to keep his massive hands busy. Rest simply wasn’t a language his body understood.
You, meanwhile, happened to be fluent in it. The morning had started predictably enough. You’d stirred awake just long enough to catch the delicious smell of breakfast drifting upstairs from the kitchen before promptly rolling over and falling right back asleep. Sometime later, Valko had come padding into the bedroom carrying all that warm, boundless enthusiasm with him, climbing onto the bed without an ounce of shame before draping every bit of his crushing weight directly across your much smaller body; his favorite oversized puppy maneuver.
He’d buried his face into your hair, nuzzled you until you laughed, kissed your cheek, and spent a solid five minutes trying to convince you to come downstairs and eat breakfast with him. You’d mumbled something about ten more minutes. He’d accepted defeat. Then he’d returned after washing the dishes. Ten more minutes. He’d come back again after finishing his morning run. Ten more minutes. Then he’d showered. Changed clothes. Probably reorganized half the house just because he couldn’t sit still.
When he came back a fourth time, you’d stubbornly repeated the exact same answer without even opening your eyes, “ten more minutes, babe…”
But apparently…Valko had finally decided your ten minutes had expired.
“Baby giiirl~” his voice echoed up from the bottom of the staircase, loud enough that you could hear the grin stretching across his dimpled face before you ever saw him.
A second later, the entire house seemed to vibrate beneath the unmistakable thunder of his footsteps as he bounded upstairs with all the subtlety of a charging bear.
“I’m comin’ for yaaa!” He sang cheerfully while climbing the stairs two at a time, “it’s noon already, you better be up by the time I get there! Let’s go, lazy!”
“Noooo…” You groaned dramatically, already bracing yourself for whatever menace he’d decided to become this time.
In a desperate act of self-preservation, you grabbed the ridiculously fluffy blanket he’d insisted on buying because it was “the softest thing he’d ever touched” and yanked it completely over your head. You wrapped yourself into it as tightly as humanly possible, curling into a stubborn little ball while clutching every edge beneath you like your life depended on it.
“It’s Sunday, for fuck’s sake!” Your protest dissolved into another dramatic whine the instant you heard footsteps stop outside the bedroom.
Silence. Then the quiet creak of the doorframe as something, more accurately, someone very large, leaned casually against it.
“Rise and shine, princess!” He called cheerfully as he wandered farther into the bedroom, sounding entirely too awake for a Sunday afternoon, “c’mon, at least keep me some company while I do laundry, I need stimulation. It’s sheet day!”
A miserable groan escaped you as you tightened your grip on the blanket cocooned around your body, clutching the soft fabric with every ounce of stubborn determination you possessed, “Valko, I’m gonna kick your ass if you come any closer…”
A hearty laugh answered you almost immediately, warm with amusement and entirely unconcerned by the threat.
“Kinda hard to kick my ass from fetal position, don’t ya think?” He teased, “now, c’mere.”
You heard him coming before you felt him. His footsteps stopped beside the bed, and a second later the mattress dipped beneath the considerable weight of one knee as he climbed onto it. The movement rolled gently through the mattress, shifting your tightly curled body despite your best efforts to stay anchored in place. Before long, you felt the familiar warmth of his much larger frame surrounding you as he crawled over, effortlessly boxing you in from every direction until there was nowhere left to retreat.
Even beneath the blanket, you could tell exactly how close he was. The fresh scent of his body wash drifted through the fabric, clean and comforting after his morning shower, while the steady warmth radiating from him seeped through the thick blanket wrapped around you. It was annoyingly pleasant. As much as you wanted to stay grumpy, there was something deeply familiar about the way he always seemed to engulf you completely whenever he climbed into your personal space, his sheer size turning even your most dramatic attempts at hiding into little more than a game.
“Someone made a wet mess again last night…” He murmured teasingly near your ear, his voice softened by the blanket between you as his large hands began searching along the bundled fabric. His fingers traced patiently over the edges until they found the corner you were desperately clinging to above your head, and you immediately tightened your grip with a quiet sound of protest, “I gotta wash the bedsheets, baby. Waterproof doesn’t mean magical. C’mon. Up you go.”
A long, dramatic groan escaped you as you stubbornly tightened your grip on the blanket, digging your fingers deeper into the impossibly soft fabric while you resisted every gentle tug he gave it. The blanket shifted back and forth between the two of you, bunching and stretching as you pulled with all the determination of someone defending their life rather than their Sunday morning sleep. The resistance only seemed to amuse him more. His laughter bubbled out warm and hearty above you, vibrating through the mattress as he leaned his weight into the playful tugging. You bit the inside of your cheek. God damn it. Even this had somehow turned into a game for that giant puppy.
“Ohhh…” He hummed with exaggerated intrigue, drawing the sound out as though he’d just made a groundbreaking discovery, “my stubborn little wolf wants to play tug o’ war with me…”
“No I don’t!” You shot back, punctuating the denial with another stubborn yank that only made the blanket stretch tighter between the two of you.
His laughter only grew richer.
“She’s gonna looose~” he sang smugly, every ounce of his confidence dripping through the playful tease, “unless…”
The tugging stopped. Immediately, your entire body tensed beneath the blanket. That was suspicious. Far too suspicious. You held perfectly still, waiting for whatever ridiculous surprise attack his devious mind had cooked up next. Instead, the comforting weight surrounding you disappeared as you felt him climb off the mattress, followed by the quiet thud of his bare feet meeting the hardwood floor beside the bed. You frowned beneath your blanket fortress.
“First,” Valko mused thoughtfully to himself in the tone of a man narrating an instructional cooking show, “we gotta pack the meat filling into the dough sheet…”
You blinked beneath the blanket, “eh??”
Before you could even process whatever bizarre comparison he’d just invented, his enormous hands descended upon you. They fussed and fluffed at the blanket wrapped around your curled-up body with surprising concentration, patting here, tucking there, gently pressing and reshaping your cocoon until you felt less like a person and more like an oversized dumpling being prepared for the oven. Every affectionate squeeze and adjustment jostled you around inside your blanket prison while he worked with complete seriousness, humming quietly to himself as though this made perfect sense.
“Uh-huh…” He murmured with obvious satisfaction once he’d finished molding your blanket cocoon to his liking. A broad palm landed squarely against your ass with a loud, playful smack before giving it a firm little pat, the touch cushioned comfortably through the thick layers of blanket as he tucked the fabric even tighter around your hips, “yup, gotta make sure the booty is nice and snug so it doesn’t spill out…”
The absolute confidence with which he delivered the line was so utterly ridiculous that you could practically picture the pleased grin stretched across his face, completely convinced he’d just crafted the world’s finest blanket dumpling.
A helpless laugh finally escaped you, the sound muffled beneath the layers of blanket as you wriggled uselessly inside your fluffy prison, “what are you doing, you big dork?”
“Me?” He replied with all the casual confidence in the world, “oh, I’m just making my little rabbit soup dumpling.”
You opened your mouth to ask what on earth that was supposed to mean, but the question never made it out. Without the slightest warning, the entire blanket lurched upward. A startled yelp burst from your lips as the mattress suddenly disappeared beneath you and gravity shifted so abruptly your stomach swooped. One moment you had been safely curled up on the bed, and the next you were suspended completely off the ground, bundled tightly inside the blanket as though you’d been scooped up in the world’s largest sack. The thick fabric cradled you from every side, swaying gently as Valko effortlessly hoisted your cocoon into the air. You couldn’t see a thing beyond the soft folds wrapped around your face, but you could feel yourself dangling there, your weight swinging lightly while he held you as easily as though you weighed nothing at all. You had officially become a rabbit caught in a net.
“Then we gotta seal the dumpling so she can’t paw her way out…” He narrated thoughtfully to himself, sounding absurdly invested in the process.
Before you could protest, you felt yourself slowly turning. The blanket twisted above you where he gripped it, winding tighter and tighter until your little cocoon snugly spiraled around you. The gentle spinning sent your body swaying in lazy circles through the air, and despite every intention of maintaining your dignity, a laugh bubbled uncontrollably out of your chest, “weeee!”
“There she goes,” he chuckled proudly, sounding entirely too pleased with himself as your delighted laughter filled the bedroom, “perfect dumpling integrity.”
Then you felt him brace. It was only the slightest shift in his stance, a tiny adjustment of his footing that you had just enough time to notice before the world tipped sideways again. With effortless care, he lifted your bundled little cocoon higher and tossed you smoothly up over his shoulder. The movement was so practiced, so controlled, that it felt less like being thrown and more like being gently relocated by someone who knew exactly how much strength he possessed. You landed against the broad slope of his upper back with a soft little bounce, your blanket nest cushioning every bit of the impact while your stomach fluttered from the exhilarating change in height.
From inside your blanket fortress, you could feel the sheer breadth of him beneath you. His shoulder was solid, his back impossibly broad, and one large arm kept securely wrapped around the twisted end of the blanket to make absolutely certain his precious dumpling wasn’t going anywhere.
“And then,” he continued with complete satisfaction, “we take the little dumpling downstairs and toss the dough sheet inside the wash.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of making a dumpling?” You teased, your laughter still bubbling up as you swayed comfortably over his back.
“Nah,” he answered without missing a beat, laughing to himself as he strolled out of the bedroom with you slung across his broad back like the proudest hunter returning home with his prize. Every easy step made you bounce lightly against him, cushioned by the ridiculously fluffy blanket, “that means I get a nice heaping serving of protein without the carbs. Work smarter, not harder.”
You couldn’t help snorting, “you’re such a meathead! What are you gonna do with me, anyway? Put me on a plate and eat me plain?”
“Plain?” He repeated with exaggerated offense as he rounded the corner into the upstairs hallway, “who says you’re plain? I just have to play with you till you get nice and saucy and wet for me.”
“Ew!” You cackled, your laughter echoing down the quiet hallway.
“Mmm…” He smacked his lips dramatically, clearly entertaining himself far more than he had any right to, “secret dumpling sauce…”
Still chuckling, he carried you a little farther before slowing to a stop outside the laundry closet tucked neatly into the upstairs hallway beside his bedroom. You felt the subtle shift in his stance as he bent his knees, and with the same effortless care he’d shown carrying you, he gently swung your bundled body forward. The blanket cradled you securely as he lowered you toward the floor, every movement smooth enough that you barely felt the transition before your back settled onto the wood with the plush blanket still wrapped snugly around you.
For a moment, all you could see was darkness. The thick folds of blanket surrounded you like a cozy little cave, muffling the world outside until you heard him crouch nearby. Then warm fingers found the edge of your cocoon, and with one playful tug, he peeled the blanket open. Bright afternoon light spilled through the opening, chasing away the darkness as his smiling face appeared above you, framed by tousled auburn hair and that unmistakably dimpled grin he wore whenever he was far too pleased with himself.
“Peekaboo,” he grinned.
You lay there exactly where he’d left you, your knees tucked comfortably against your stomach beneath the cocoon of fluffy blanket while your wrists dangled loosely in front of your chest like tiny rabbit paws. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you squinted up at him, the bright hallway light spilling around the silhouette of his enormous frame. Sunlight from the nearby windows caught along the edges of his broad shoulders, outlining the powerful build that seemed to fill the doorway all by itself.
He was dressed for a lazy Sunday in nothing more than a pair of loose lounge sweats hanging low on his hips, his broad chest and sculpted torso left completely bare after his morning shower. A pair of thin-framed silver glasses rested over the familiar crooked bridge of his nose, softening his features just enough to make him look unfairly handsome. Your gaze drifted lower as his grin slowly widened, catching on the gleaming tips of the little fangs peeking between his lips the moment he noticed the ridiculous little pose you’d unconsciously curled yourself into.
Neither of you said a word. You didn’t need to. Somewhere along the way, the two of you had become frighteningly good at reading one another. The second his golden eyes lit up with mischief, you already knew you were in trouble. His massive hands swooped toward you without warning, settling against your stomach as easily as though you weighed nothing at all. With effortless strength, he nudged your tucked-up knees aside before his fingertips curled into your sides, scruffing and kneading at your tummy with playful determination. The first ticklish squeeze ripped an involuntary squeal from your throat before dissolving into helpless laughter. You immediately started batting at his forearms with both hands, trying desperately to shove the giant menace away while cackles tumbled uncontrollably out of you.
“V-Val! Stop!” You pleaded.
He laughed right along with you, completely unmoved by your increasingly dramatic attempts to defend yourself. Every time you twisted away from one hand, the other found another vulnerable spot, his wandering fingers dancing across your stomach, your waist, your sides, and your hips with infuriating precision. You writhed beneath him, kicking uselessly on top of the blanket while he effortlessly kept you on your back, his much larger frame making your resistance feel more like an energetic wrestling match than an actual escape attempt. Eventually, through nothing but sheer persistence and an embarrassing amount of flailing, you finally managed to roll away from him. You flopped onto your belly with a triumphant little gasp, convinced you’d escaped.
SMACK!
A startled yelp flew out of you as his broad palm landed squarely over your ass with a loud, playful swat. The impact sent a pleasant sting blooming beneath the thin fabric of your tiny booty shorts, the sensation rippling warmly across your skin as your whole body jolted from the surprise. All the wriggling and wrestling had ridden the snug little shorts perilously high between your cheeks, and the playful smack only made you suddenly, acutely aware of just how crookedly they were sitting.
Before you could even reach back to rescue your poor shorts from the wedgie they’d worked themselves into, Valko’s quick fingers were already there. They hooked playfully beneath the elastic of both your shorts and your panties before you had the slightest chance to react, and with one swift, mischievous tug, he yanked them both down just enough to bare your entire ass to the cool hallway air.
“Mmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully as he bent closer, his grin widening beneath the low bridge of his glasses, “fresh meat.”
“Ow!” You yelped through a burst of helpless laughter, twisting around just in time to feel his fangs nip playfully into the soft curve of your asscheek. The bite wasn’t hard enough to hurt, only enough to leave behind that pleasantly sharp sting that made you squeal and swat wildly behind yourself, your palm smacking uselessly against one of his broad forearms while he laughed above you, “you menace!”
Still giggling, you scrambled onto your feet in a clumsy stumble, nearly tripping over yourself as you bolted down the hallway toward the safety of his bedroom before those enormous arms could wrap around your waist again. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood while laughter echoed between the walls behind you, and you didn’t have to look back to know he was thoroughly entertained by your dramatic retreat.
“Okay, okay!” You called over your shoulder between laughs, “I’m up already, leave me alone!”
“Atta girl!” He answered triumphantly, his rich laugh following after you with unmistakable satisfaction.
By the time you disappeared into the bedroom, he’d already stooped to scoop the abandoned blanket from the floor, giving the fluffy bundle a practiced shake before tossing it neatly into the washing machine like the entire ridiculous operation had been a complete success.
Still smiling to yourself, you wandered into his bathroom with another sleepy yawn, rubbing at one eye as the last traces of drowsiness slowly began giving way to the afternoon. You reached automatically for the toothbrush he always kept tucked beside his own, the little domestic gesture so familiar now that you hardly thought about it anymore. After brushing your teeth, you stepped beneath the warm spray for a quick shower, letting the water wake you fully before it had a chance to cool while the washing machine worked through its cycle nearby.
Clean, refreshed, and finally feeling halfway human again, you dried yourself off and slipped into a fresh pair of underwear before stealing one of Valko’s oversized T-shirts from the neatly folded stack he’d left in his dresser. The soft fabric swallowed your frame completely, hanging almost to the middle of your thighs and smelling faintly of clean cotton mixed with the unmistakably comforting scent that always seemed to cling to him. It fit less like a shirt and more like a cozy little tent, and if you were being honest, you liked it that way.
When you stepped back into the hallway, you found the redhead bent over beside the open dryer with a laundry basket resting on the floor at his feet. Freshly dried clothes spilled in warm heaps from the drum as he absentmindedly transferred them into the basket, completely focused on his self-appointed Sunday chore. His broad back shifted beneath his movements, muscles rolling effortlessly beneath his skin as he worked, entirely unaware of the quiet footsteps approaching behind him.
A mischievous smile slowly spread across your face. You crept forward as quietly as you could, carefully avoiding the lazy swish of his enormous auburn tail while you reeled your hand back. Your eyes narrowed with exaggerated concentration as you mentally painted the world’s most obvious target across the perfectly toned curve of his ass.
SMACK!
Your palm landed squarely against him with a satisfyingly loud clap, the playful swat making the firm muscle beneath your hand give the tiniest little jiggle. You immediately burst into laughter.
SMACK!
“You havin’ fun back there?” He teased over his shoulder, sounding completely unbothered as he remained bent over in front of the dryer, casually reaching farther inside to retrieve another armful of warm laundry. If anything, he seemed to be making the job easier for you. His enormous auburn tail gave a leisurely swish before deliberately moving itself out of your way, as though politely clearing the target.
SMACK!
“Yeah,” you admitted between helpless giggles, shaking out your tingling hand before lining yourself up again. You couldn’t help noticing the way the tip of his tail wagged ever so slightly beyond his control every time you wound up for another playful swat, the involuntary movement making you grin even wider, “I am, actually.”
You reeled your arm back once more, ready to land another satisfying smack, but before your hand could swing forward, Valko reached behind himself with one absentminded motion and hooked his thumb beneath the waistband of his lounge sweats and briefs. Chuckling to himself, he tugged them down just enough to bare one side of his ass over the curve of his hip, presenting it with such ridiculous confidence that your entire train of thought derailed. The sight alone sent you into another fit of laughter. Your carefully aimed swing dissolved into an uncoordinated flail as your palm landed squarely against the exposed cheek.
SMACK!
The sound echoed loudly through the hallway.
“Pffft,” he snorted, finally glancing back at you over his shoulder with a grin that was equal parts smug and encouraging. He tipped his chin toward you in challenge, his glasses slipping ever so slightly lower along the crooked bridge of his nose, “c’mon, is that the best you’ve got?”
You laughed so hard your stomach hurt, “oh, you’re asking for it now!”
Planting your feet a little wider, you rolled your shoulder dramatically like you were preparing for the most important athletic event of your life. Valko watched the entire performance with obvious amusement, still leaning comfortably against the dryer as one elbow came to rest on top of it. He propped his chin lazily into his palm while his other hand continued holding his waistband down with all the casual confidence in the world, patiently waiting for your next attempt. You narrowed your eyes at him. Then swung.
SMACK!
“There you go,” he chuckled approvingly, barely reacting beyond the pleasant bounce of the impact as a faint flush began blooming across the spot you’d been repeatedly targeting,” that’s better. You can go harder. Don’t chicken out. Don’t be shy.”
His completely shameless confidence only made you laugh harder. Determined not to let him have the last word, you drew your arm back again and put a little more enthusiasm behind the swing this time. Your palm cracked against the growing pink welt with another satisfyingly loud clap, the impact sending a pleasant sting buzzing through your own hand while Valko’s laughter filled the hallway alongside yours.
SMACK!
“Here,” he said as he finally straightened to his full height and turned to face you.
The instant that enormous frame squared up in front of you, towering close enough to steal the light from above, a burst of exhilaration shot through your chest. You gasped on instinct, equal parts thrilled and suspicious as his golden eyes gleamed with unmistakable mischief behind the lenses perched on the crooked bridge of his nose. Every instinct screamed at you to run. You managed exactly one step backward.
His hand caught your wrist with effortless precision, “lemme show you how it’s done.”
“Oh, no—”
Before you could twist free or make a break for it, Valko smoothly spun you around until you were facing the washer. His huge hands immediately engulfed your waist, lifting you clean off the floor as though you weighed next to nothing.
A shriek of helpless laughter burst from your lungs as your feet left the ground, “ahh! No, don’t you dare! Bad dog! Bad!”
“What?” He laughed, sounding thoroughly entertained as he settled you belly-first across the gently rumbling lid of the washing machine. The steady vibration hummed beneath your stomach while he leaned comfortably over you, gathering both of your wrists together behind your back in one broad hand. His grip was secure without ever being rough, holding you just firmly enough that every attempt to wriggle free became completely futile, “I’m just picking my favorite chew toy up off the ground.”
“Oh, very fucking clever,” you huffed another laugh, squirming dramatically beneath him while trying to kick backward with one foot, but before you could land even the slightest retaliation, his free hand found the oversized shirt draped over your hips. The soft fabric slid smoothly upward, bunching around your lower back before his fingers hooked the waistband of your underwear. With one quick, playful tug, he pulled them just low enough to bare your whole ass to the cool air of the hallway.
Your breath caught. Then—
SMACK!
A startled yelp escaped you as his broad palm landed squarely against your asscheek in one firm, playful swat. The impact bloomed into a pleasantly warm sting that spread beneath your skin almost instantly, making your toes curl as the sensation rippled through you. The force of it sent your body jolting just enough that you couldn’t help biting back another laugh, your heart racing from the surprise almost as much as from the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Damn,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed, “you hear that?”
You could hear the grin in his voice before you even felt his hand return. His broad palm settled over the lingering warmth with instinctive tenderness, slowly rubbing the spot he’d just swatted. The soothing caress melted across your skin in slow, comforting strokes, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting pleasantly against the lingering heat until the playful sting softened beneath the warmth of his touch. His hand lingered there for a moment longer, gently smoothing over the flushed skin with quiet affection that somehow made your entire body relax despite yourself. Then, with absolutely no warning whatsoever—
SMACK!
A helpless giggle escaped you as you bit down lightly on your lower lip, your body jolting instinctively from the lingering warmth still throbbing across your skin. Acting entirely on impulse, you kicked one foot backward until the sole of it bumped against the hard wall of his thigh, more playful than forceful, and then, seized by another wonderfully terrible idea, you mischievously adjusted your aim a little higher.
Valko caught on immediately. His laughter cut off into an incredulous gasp as one massive hand shot down and wrapped securely around your ankle before your foot could get anywhere near its intended destination.
“You trying to kick me in the nuts?!” He exclaimed over the sound of your uncontrollable laughter, tightening his grip just enough to keep your foot suspended harmlessly in the air, “are you insane?!”
“Oopsie,” you answered through another fit of giggles, making absolutely no effort to sound apologetic.
SMACK!
A sharp yelp dissolved into laughter as his broad palm landed squarely against your ass once again, the playful swat sending another pleasant bloom of warmth rippling across your skin. The sting lingered only for a heartbeat before his hand softened, the same palm that had delivered the smack immediately smoothing over the welting skin in slow, soothing strokes. The contrast made you melt despite yourself, your muscles relaxing beneath the familiar roughness of his calloused hand as it gently caressed away the lingering heat.
“Naughty girl,” he laughed, shaking his head at your antics. Still holding your ankle captive, he leaned farther over you until the comforting warmth of his body surrounded you from behind. His broad chest hovered close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and the loose fabric of his lounge sweats brushed teasingly against the backs of your thighs every time either of you shifted. His free hand gave your ass an indulgent squeeze, kneading the soft curve beneath his palm while a content little hum escaped him, “don’t forget who’s trapping who right now…”
“Oh nooo,” you replied with exaggerated innocence, your voice dripping with theatrical concern as another laugh threatened to bubble free. All your squirming had worked your underwear even farther down your thighs, and as you wriggled beneath him again, you became acutely aware of the warmth pressing comfortably against the curve of your ass through the thin fabric of his sweats. The firm outline of his cock against you betrayed exactly how much he was enjoying the ridiculous wrestling match the two of you had turned laundry day into, and the realization only widened your grin, “the big bad wolf is gonna eat me while I’m stuck on top of his laundry machine…”
He snorted, the sound warm with amusement as he rested a little more of his weight against the washer, “that sounds like the start of a really cheesy porno.”
You burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.
“Shut up!” You cackled, twisting your head just enough to grin back at him over your shoulder, “this is the part where you’re supposed to hold me hostage while you eat me out.”
He barked out a laugh, genuine delight flashing across his face at your shameless demand, and before you could so much as brace yourself, his broad hands were already guiding you. With surprising gentleness for a man so impossibly large, he maneuvered you sideways across the top of the rumbling washing machine until you were lying comfortably on your stomach, stretched horizontally over the warm lid while its steady vibration hummed pleasantly beneath your body. He stepped back behind you once you were settled, taking a moment simply to admire the view in front of him before he slipped his glasses into the pocket of his sweats and his hands inevitably found their way back to you. They always did.
His enormous palms settled low beneath the curve of your ass before slowly, indulgently kneading their way upward, squeezing from the bottom to the top with obvious appreciation. Every slow pass of his hands molded greedily to your flesh, his fingers spreading wide as though he wanted to feel every inch of you beneath his palms. The rough warmth of his callouses contrasted deliciously against your softer skin, and the leisurely massage sent little shivers dancing beneath the surface as he shamelessly admired what he was holding.
“Oh…” He murmured, his teasing voice carrying a note of quiet fascination as his thumbs sank into the plushness of your ass. They lingered there for a heartbeat before gradually drifting lower, hovering so close to your pussy that your body reacted before your mind did. You felt yourself clench instinctively, your breath catching as anticipation curled warmly through your stomach, “is that what you want from me?”
His thumbs pressed gently outward. The pressure slowly encouraged your ass apart, and with it, your pussy spread between your thighs in a soft, embarrassingly audible little squelch that echoed through the otherwise quiet hallway. Heat rushed straight to your face, and you couldn’t stop yourself from biting lightly against the tip of your thumb to smother an involuntary giggle. Behind you, Valko let out a slow, appreciative sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, his hands giving another greedy squeeze as he continued holding you open beneath his gaze. Every tiny movement of his thumbs subtly shifted your body, and you could feel him watching with complete, unabashed fascination as the motion exposed more of your fully bared pussy to his hungry eyes. The intensity of his attention alone sent a tingling rush of erotic delight humming through your entire body.
“You want the big bad wolf to have a treat and eat your pussy?” He asked, his voice dropping into a lower, richer register that wrapped warmly around every word.
The question sent another pleasant shiver racing up your spine. His thumbs wandered lower again, leaving the soft curve of your ass to find your parted lips instead. He hooked them there with maddening patience before slowly dragging them along the length of your slit in one indulgent stroke. The intimate touch drew an immediate sigh from your lips as warmth pooled lower in your stomach, your body relaxing beneath his hands almost despite yourself while he explored you with quiet reverence.
You reached behind yourself without hesitation, your own fingertips finding purchase as you deliberately hooked your parts farther apart for him. The movement earned an immediate, unmistakable sound of appreciation from Valko, somewhere between a pleased hum and a quietly awed breath, and the reaction alone made a smile tug at your lips.
“No,” you answered, your voice dripping with playful authority, “I want you to just fucking stand there and just drool over it, Valko. Get on your knees and feast on it already!”
“Damn!” He laughed, thoroughly entertained by your bossiness as he surrendered without the slightest argument. Still chuckling to himself, he obediently lowered himself to his knees behind you, his golden eyes never leaving you for so much as a second, “don’t ave to tell me twice, say no more…Guess it’s already technically lunch time, isn’t it?”
His hands slid down your calves until they found your ankles, his broad palms wrapping around them with an easy, practiced gentleness as he folded your legs up into a more comfortable position. He guided them inward until the tops of your feet rested naturally against the warm expanse of his bare chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing brushing softly over your skin every time he inhaled. The washing machine rumbled steadily beneath your stomach, its gentle vibration humming through your hips while you lay stretched across the warm lid in eager anticipation, every nerve in your body buzzing as you waited for him.
The first thing that touched you wasn’t his mouth. It was the warm ghost of his breath. It feathered over the side of your ass in a slow exhale, sending a delicious shiver racing from the base of your spine all the way to the back of your neck. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as anticipation tightened pleasantly in your belly, and before you could even brace yourself, you gasped as his teeth sank playfully into the soft dough of your asscheek. The bite wasn’t enough to hurt, only enough to make your body jump with a startled laugh as you instinctively reached behind yourself again. He gently nudged your hands away with an amused little chuckle, silently insisting on having full access to admire and play with what was in front of him.
“Yum,” he murmured huskily.
The rough warmth of his tongue immediately soothed the spot he’d just bitten, slowly licking over the faint sting until it dissolved into another helpless giggle. The ticklish drag of his tongue made your shoulders shake, and you could hear the pleased little hum vibrating deep in his chest as he openly admired you.
“Your ass and pussy look like a heart in this position…” He breathed hotly.
You couldn’t help laughing, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he answered without missing a beat, pressing an exaggerated, noisy smooch against the sore cheek he’d just bitten. His entire face smothered happily into the plush warmth of your ass, lingering there with obvious satisfaction before he mumbled into your skin, “let me drive a stake through it—”
“—Huh?!” You guffawed, your laughter exploding out of you so suddenly your whole body bounced against the humming washing machine.
The realization hit him immediately. His shoulders shook with embarrassed laughter as he dropped his forehead dramatically against your ass.
“I meant like, y’know, a butt plug. God, that came out wrong…” He groaned into your skin before laughing at himself, “sorry, I think I’m bad at talking dirty sometimes.”
You laughed even harder, “some werewolf you are, what a bad pun!”
“I know,” he admitted, rubbing his forehead against your ass in theatrical defeat.
“Fine…” You relented with another grin, “but make it a little smaller than last time.”
“’Kay,” he accepted obediently.
His attention returned to you almost immediately. Soft kisses began peppering their way across your ass one after another, each lingering smooch landing a little closer to your pussy than the last. The warm press of his lips contrasted deliciously against the cooler air brushing over your exposed skin, and every kiss made your stomach flutter harder in anticipation. Between them, you suddenly felt the gentle pad of one fingertip glide along the inside of your slit. The slow stroke gathered the slick arousal already coating you before his finger lazily circled your clit in teasing little rubs that made you sigh through parted lips.
You were soaked. Warm. Gooey. Your slick coated his fingertip so thoroughly that every slow pass over your clit glided effortlessly through your arousal, and you could both feel and hear the quiet, wet slide of it as he toyed with you. Behind you, the low hum vibrating in his throat grew warmer, needier, the sound drifting closer and closer to your ass until you could feel his breath washing over your asshole. Every tiny exhale made you clench instinctively, your thighs twitching as anticipation mounted higher.
But before he went there, his broad thumbs settled against your ass once more. They pressed gently outward, slowly spreading you open beneath his admiring gaze until your pussy parted completely for him. You felt yourself open beneath the pressure, exposing every glistening inch of your wet slit while the slickness between your lips stretched in soft little strings that caught briefly before breaking. Valko let out the quietest, most appreciative sigh, openly drinking in the sight with hungry eyes as his hands continued massaging your ass apart, mesmerized by the way every subtle squeeze and shift of his thumbs made your fully bared pussy move beneath them.
The erotic intensity of being watched like that made heat bloom straight through your core. You felt him lean closer. His tongue slowly rolled out, broad and shamelessly flat, and your jaw fell open in silent anticipation as you felt its first warm contact settle against your clit. He didn’t rush. He simply dragged one slow, indulgent lap through your dripping folds, broad enough to smother every inch of your pussy as he leisurely tasted his way upward. The unhurried stroke made your toes curl against his chest while a helpless shudder rippled through your entire body, and by the time his tongue reached the twitching little pucker of your asshole, your breath had completely abandoned you. Thank God you’d just showered.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, the sound vibrating warmly against you as he let out a blissful, breathy sigh that fanned hot across your clit before lowering his mouth to it again. This time, he wrapped his lips around the sensitive little bud with shameless devotion, sucking it into the welcoming heat of his mouth while his tongue flicked against it in practiced little strokes. He lingered there just long enough to make your thighs quiver before slowly letting it slip free again with one long, indulgent suck that echoed obscenely through the quiet hallway, the wet sound prickling all the way up the back of your neck, “who needs lubricant when they have the juiciest little pussy?”
“Val…” You giggled coyly into the back of your hand, your voice dissolving into another helpless laugh as your toes curled against his chest. Heat flooded your cheeks so quickly it almost made you dizzy, and somehow his filthy praise only made you burn hotter.
“What?” He asked with unmistakable amusement.
Oh, God. You felt him smirk. The corner of his mouth curled right against you before he shamelessly dove back in, taking another slow, greedy pull of your pussy. This time he didn’t settle for your clit alone. He drew your swollen lips into his mouth with brazen hunger, sucking them between his lips before giving them an affectionate little shake that made you gasp, your whole body jolting over the gently vibrating washing machine. The wet, sloppy sound that followed when he finally let you slip free made your stomach tighten with delight, and you could feel the warm trail of his saliva stretching from your pussy back to his lips before it finally broke. Without missing a beat, his tongue swept back over your clit in one teasing lap that made you jump, his broad hands tightening around your ass as they kneaded the soft flesh with obvious satisfaction.
“It’s true…” He murmured, his voice roughened by the way he’d been savoring you, “you’re like fresh meat falling off a bone. You’re scrumptious. I could eat this pretty little thing all day and still want more…”
The filthy sincerity in his voice sent another shiver coursing through you. He slowly drifted higher again, his tongue finding your asshole with complete shamelessness as he flicked over it in slow, exploratory little strokes. His thumbs settled against your ass once more, gently but firmly hooking you farther apart as he devoted himself to an unhurried barrage of affectionate licks. The warm glide of his tongue against such a sensitive spot sent your eyes rolling helplessly back, your brows knitting high against your forehead while a soft moan escaped your lips. Your cheek sank deeper against the humming washing machine, the steady vibration beneath you blending with every slow, indulgent stroke until pleasure buzzed through your entire body.
“Same with this perfect little hole,” he breathed, the warm words ghosting directly over your skin before his thumb slid lazily through the mixture of your slick and his saliva. The slow glide carried all the way to your asshole, where he began rubbing gentle little circles that made your stomach flutter, “looks so pretty when you have a shiny little plug sticking out of it…”
You inhaled sharply. Then you felt the unmistakable contrast. The cool, perfectly smooth touch of polished metal gradually replaced the warmth of his thumb, sending another delicious shiver racing through you. It was one of your favorite little displays of his Evol. You felt the metal slowly take shape against his fingertips as though it were growing directly beneath his touch, the rounded surface impossibly sleek against your heated skin. Patiently, almost proudly, he finished forming the plug before tracing its rounded tip around the tight little pucker of your asshole in slow, deliberate circles, letting the cool metal tease and outline the sensitive ring without rushing a single movement.
“Here, let me help you get it in…” He murmured, easing himself back just enough that you immediately knew exactly what he was about to do, “get you nice and sloppy-wet.”
A heartbeat later, you felt it. The warm splatter of his saliva landed directly against your asshole with an audible spit, coating the sensitive little ring before slowly beginning to drip downward. The sudden contrast of hot spit against your skin made your entire body tense, your stomach erupting with heat as your asshole instinctively clenched around nothing, betraying exactly how much the sensation affected you.
“Nasty bastard,” you muttered beneath your breath, trying and failing to sound genuinely offended.
His response came in the form of a low, breathy laugh that rumbled warmly against your ass. He sounded thoroughly turned on by the insult, never taking offense, always delighting in the sharp edge of your tongue just as much as the affection hidden beneath it. One broad hand steadied your hip while the other guided the cool, polished metal back toward you, the rounded tip gliding through the mixture of his spit and your slick before settling squarely against your slippery asshole.
“We both know how much you love getting your holes drooled and slobbered over,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as the metal slowly began pressing inward, “don’t act all coy with me now, you’re just as nasty…”
You flinched the instant the rounded tip finally popped inside. The familiar stretch spread through you in slow, delicious increments as he patiently fed the plug deeper, your ass gradually opening around the widening shape. Every careful push filled you a little more, the smooth metal sliding farther inside until the thickest part finally disappeared and your ass swallowed it all the way to its base. The snug fullness settled comfortably inside you, drawing another involuntary little squeeze from your body as you adjusted around it.
“Oh, look at that…” He breathed, pure fascination dripping shamelessly from every word. His fingers curled around the base of the plug before giving it the tiniest playful tug, making the tight ring of your asshole flex around it as he watched with openly hungry admiration. He was utterly enthralled by every tiny movement, every subtle clench, every little twitch your body made beneath his hands, “she’s so cute when she’s all plugged up and dripping wet…”
The naked appreciation in his voice made another shiver ripple through you. Then his thumb returned to your clit. He stroked slowly through the slickness gathered there, rubbing lazy circles that made your hips twitch before his tongue followed, flicking warmly against your pussy. His thumb swept over your clit again. Then his tongue. Then his thumb. Then another broad, indulgent lick. The alternating rhythm quickly became impossible to think through, every slow stroke and every teasing flick blending together until your breathing grew uneven and your whole body began writhing helplessly over the humming washing machine.
You pressed your ass back toward him as much as the position allowed, shamelessly chasing every touch while your hips wiggled with growing impatience. The movement made your pussy rub against his mouth in tiny, needy little motions, and before you could second-guess yourself, you lifted your legs and hooked your feet securely around the back of his neck. Your shins settled comfortably across his broad shoulders as you pulled him firmly toward you.
A surprised little noise escaped him. It immediately dissolved into a muffled groan as you buried his face straight into your pussy. His broad hands tightened around your ass with obvious appreciation while he let himself be pulled exactly where you wanted him, his nose and mouth smothering eagerly against your wetness as though he couldn’t possibly complain about being manhandled into his favorite place.
“Eat your fucking lunch already, Valko,” you demanded through a sultry little giggle.
You deliberately wiggled your pussy from side to side against his mouth, grinding yourself playfully over his face, and Valko answered with enthusiastic obedience. He matched every movement you made, letting your hips guide him while he messily nuzzled into your warmth with delighted little hums, openly savoring every inch of you as though he truly intended to spend the rest of the afternoon greedily devouring his favorite meal.
Heather surged straight through your sex the instant the broad expanse of his tongue pushed inside you. The sheer width of it filled you just enough to make your breath catch, and the slow, shameless wiggle of the muscle inside your pussy sent a delicious shudder racing all the way up your spine. The mere thought of what he was doing made your stomach tighten with heat. God…He had literally shoved his tongue inside your pussy.
A helpless moan spilled from your lips as that delicious bastard greedily ate you up, completely unashamed of the sloppy, hungry way he devoured every inch of you. Your toes curled hard behind his thick neck while your hips instinctively pressed back into him, smothering his face as deeply into your pussy as you possibly could. You held him there with shameless need, grinding yourself against his mouth until you could actually feel the tip of his nose nudging against the smooth metal plug nestled snugly inside your ass. The sensation sent another violent pulse of pleasure through your body, making your fingers desperately clutch the edge of the washing machine while the steady vibration beneath your stomach only blurred together with the euphoria steadily melting every muscle in your body.
“Oh my God…” You breathed, your eyes rolling blissfully toward the ceiling as a grin spread helplessly across your face. The warm sighs escaping his nose and mouth washed over your soaked skin between every greedy mouthful he took, making you shiver from head to toe, “oh my God…That feels so good…Eat it up, babe, eat every last bite…”
His response came without a single word. One large hand wrapped affectionately around your foot where it rested against his neck, his thumb lazily stroking over your heel while his other broad hand spread possessively across your ass. His fingers kneaded into the soft flesh with obvious appreciation before tightening just enough to hold you exactly where he wanted you. Then he buried his face into your pussy all over again, enthusiastically shaking his head against you with messy determination until another helpless giggle bubbled out of your chest.
You could feel him smiling. No…You could actually feel him smirking against your pussy. The subtle lift of the corner of his mouth brushed your sensitive skin before the faint tips of his little fangs grazed teasingly along your folds, making your stomach flutter so violently it almost hurt. A heartbeat later his tongue returned, broad and eager, lapping lovingly over your clit with the same shameless enthusiasm he’d shown from the very beginning. Every slow lick was followed by another. Then another. He wasn’t pacing himself anymore. He was simply indulging, openly savoring every taste and every little sound you made as though he’d been starving for this exact moment all day.
Somewhere behind him, a familiar rhythmic thumping echoed through the tiny laundry closet. Thump. Thump. Thump. You grinned before you even consciously recognized it. His tail. His giant fluffy tail was wagging so hard it kept smacking the floor behind him, then bouncing into the wall of the laundry closet with every increasingly enthusiastic sweep. You didn’t have to lift your head to know what it looked like. You could picture it perfectly. The mighty chairman of EonCore, the feared leader of an entire werewolf clan, reduced to happily thumping his tail against the wall because he was getting to bury his face in your pussy for lunch time. It made your heart melt almost as much as it turned you on.
“Such a good boy,” you cooed, your voice thick with pleasure as you reached one hand behind yourself until your fingers disappeared into his soft auburn hair. You fisted the silky strands with affectionate confidence before gently pulling him even closer, pressing his face so deeply into your pussy that a muffled, blissful sigh escaped him against your soaked folds. The vibration of it melted straight through your core, leaving your stomach feeling molten while your thighs trembled around his shoulders, “get over here and slobber all over it till I cum…”
You felt his wolf ears perk beneath your hand, flicking excitedly against your fingers the instant you praised him. The reaction made a smile tug at your lips before he immediately obeyed, burying himself back into your folds with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue bobbed eagerly against your clit, quick, hungry strokes landing one after another with messy determination as the wet, lewd sounds of him lapping at you filled the laundry closet. Every pant that escaped him washed hot against your soaked pussy before he dove back in again, shamelessly putting his whole neck into it as he feasted on you like a starving man who had finally found his favorite meal.
God…Valko was such a greedy addict. And you absolutely loved him for it. Every slap of his tongue against your clit made the sensitive little bundle twitch uncontrollably, the broad muscle landing with perfect accuracy over and over until you could no longer distinguish one delicious stroke from the next. The slick squelch of his mouth working against your pussy echoed obscenely through the small space, every filthy sound sinking straight into your stomach and making the coil inside you pull tighter. Your fingers trembled where they were buried deep in his auburn hair, clutching handfuls of the soft strands while your hips rocked helplessly against his face, feet pulling him tight. Heat gathered low inside your belly until it became almost unbearable, your muscles tightening one by one as pleasure climbed relentlessly higher, your vision beginning to soften and blur around the edges.
“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, the confession tumbling breathlessly from your lips as your toes curled tighter behind his neck. You squeezed him instinctively, pressing your pussy even harder over his mouth until it felt like you were trying to pull him inside you. Your entire body had begun trembling now, every breath catching somewhere high in your chest as the tension became almost impossible to contain, “yes! Yes! Yes! Val! Oh, fuck, I’m cumming hard!”
God…It was like fireworks every single time. Every time that man found himself between your legs with his face buried in your pussy, he somehow unraveled you all over again. Your voice broke apart into helpless cries and breathless little mewls as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you, each one stronger than the last beneath the relentless coaxing of his hungry tongue. He never slowed, never hesitated, ravenously feasting on your pussy while your body convulsed beneath his hands. His broad palms held firmly to your hips and ass, grounding you as your thighs trembled and your pussy fluttered uncontrollably against his mouth. Your clit felt almost electric, every nerve ending buzzing so intensely it bordered on overwhelming as you moaned his name through the height of your orgasm.
By the time the last tremors finally began fading from your body, you were still humming with pleasure from head to toe. Every muscle felt pleasantly heavy, your breathing uneven as you lay sprawled over the gently vibrating washing machine, completely dazed. You hardly registered him pulling away from your folds. Barely noticed him rising smoothly to his feet until his towering warmth settled over you again. Somewhere through the lingering haze, you watched him reach into the basket of freshly dried laundry, casually grab the first clean piece of clothing his hand landed on, and wipe the sheen of your slick from around his mouth with complete, shameless satisfaction before tossing it carelessly back into the pile.
You were nothing but delicious putty by the time you heard the soft rustle of fabric followed by the unmistakable sound of him pushing his pants down. Your body still buzzed from your orgasm, your legs pleasantly weak as you remained draped sideways over the gently rumbling washing machine, balanced more on your toes than your feet. The steady vibration beneath your stomach hummed through your body while you watched his shadow stretch over you, swallowing every strip of afternoon light until his enormous frame engulfed you completely.
You didn’t have to turn around to know exactly where he was. You felt him. The heat rolling off his body seeped into your skin before he even touched you, surrounding you from behind with that familiar furnace-like warmth that always seemed capable of melting you. Through the corner of your vision, you could make out the silhouette of his arm reaching before himself, his broad hand wrapping heavily around his cock. The quiet sound of his grip, followed by the slow hitch in his breathing, made your stomach flutter. Then his free hand settled against your hip, fingers spreading wide before giving the soft flesh an indulgent squeeze as he curled over your backside. His warm breath drifted across your upper back while he leaned closer, and a deep, satisfied groan vibrated out of his chest the moment the smooth head of his cock slowly swiped through the slick coating your dripping pussy. He dragged it from the bottom of your slit to the top with unhurried appreciation, gathering every bit of your wetness before doing it again, savoring the feel of you as though he couldn’t help himself.
A grin tugged helplessly at your lips, “you should flip me over so I can watch you fuck me…”
“I should?” He echoed, amusement immediately creeping into his voice.
Before you could laugh, those huge hands were already on you. They engulfed your waist with effortless strength before lifting you clean off the washing machine as though you weighed absolutely nothing. The room spun around you for a heartbeat while he smoothly turned you in his arms, pulling his shirt up over your head and tossing it somewhere into the hallway, and the next moment he bounced you gently back onto the warm lid on your naked back instead. Your legs lifted naturally into the air, bending comfortably as he stepped between them with another quiet laugh. His broad hands pushed your thighs wide apart before he placed your calves into your own hands, silently encouraging you to hold yourself open while he leaned over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the hallway light once more.
“In that case,” he chuckled, his sharp teeth flashing as golden eyes met yours, “c’mere, pancake…”
You never got the chance to answer him. The breath caught sharply in your throat as the thick head of his cock found your entrance and began pressing into your folds. You watched every tiny reaction bloom across his face.nHis thick brows twitched together ever so slightly, his sculpted jaw flexed beneath his skin, and his eyelids fluttered halfway closed as your pussy welcomed him back with slow, delicious resistance. He didn’t force a single inch. Instead, he eased forward patiently, letting your tightness stretch around the magnificent thickness of his cock little by little. Every deeper push widened you more than the last until you could feel your walls drawing snugly around every inch, greedily swallowing him while your body melted beneath the familiar fullness.
“Mmmm!” The sound escaped around your lip as you bit down against it, your head tipping back while your eyes rolled blissfully toward the ceiling.
God, you loved that feeling. You indulged shamelessly in every inch of that fucking cock stretching you wider and wider, your stomach fluttering with intoxicating heat the farther he pushed inside. Your gaze eventually found him again, helplessly roaming over every hard line of his chest, every flexing muscle rolling beneath his skin as his hips continued forward until they finally settled flush against your ass. The deep press of his pelvis immediately stimulated the cool metal plug still nestled inside your asshole, sandwiching your body between both delicious sensations until a bright grin spread uncontrollably across your face. You were practically kicking your feet with delight.
His broad hands slowly slid higher along your thighs before curling around them with unmistakable need, his fingers tightening just enough to hold you exactly where he wanted you. When his golden eyes finally lifted from where your bodies joined and locked onto yours, you felt another pulse of heat bloom through your chest.
“Give it to me already…” You grinned up at him.
A slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at you. His chest rose with one deep breath before he reluctantly began drawing his cock back, inch by inch, your pussy clinging greedily to every bit of him as he withdrew until only half his magnificent length remained inside you.
“Oh,” he sighed warmly, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, “you want your bone?”
“Yeah, gimme my—”
Your words never had the chance to finish. Your jaw dropped open as your entire body seized around him. Your pussy clenched so violently it almost hurt the instant he drove that fat cock straight back into you without the slightest warning. There was no slow buildup this time, no teasing drag, no patient stretch. It was nothing but pure, animalistic need as he buried himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust that stole every coherent thought from your head.
“Here,” he pulled back just enough to do it again. His hips snapped forward with another heavy thrust that bounced your entire body over the steadily humming washing machine, the impact sending your breasts jolting as his pelvis smacked flush against your ass. The delicious clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the cramped laundry closet, louder now than the quiet rumble of the machine beneath you, “have it, pup…”
Another sharp moan tore from your throat before you could stop it. Your body jerked helplessly beneath him as he drove every glorious inch of that cock into you again, battering your gummy, slippery walls until your insides fluttered uncontrollably around him. Every thrust landed with delicious authority, making your stomach tighten hotter and tighter while your breath dissolved into broken little gasps. Oh, sweet heavens…That hellhound was a godsend.
“Atta girl…” He smirked down at you with satisfaction.
Your hands flew instinctively to his forearms, fingers wrapping tightly around thick muscle and raised veins as though they were the only solid thing left in the room. His skin was hot beneath your palms, every tendon flexing beneath your grip as he surged into you again, and your pussy answered by squeezing desperately around his delightfully obnoxious girth.
Then he started pumping into you. Pounding. Each thrust drove deeper than the last, his powerful hips setting a relentless rhythm that filled the little laundry closet with the wet, rhythmic snap of skin against skin. The sound mixed shamelessly with the steady hum of the washing machine beneath your ass, creating a hypnotic rhythm that matched the growing pulse of pleasure boiling inside your body.
The smile melted clean off your face. Ecstasy consumed you so completely that your expression unraveled beneath it, your lower lip trembling uncontrollably while your brows drew tightly together and your eyes rolled helplessly back. You knew he was watching you. You could feel it in the way his golden eyes stayed fixed on your face while he fucked you, drinking in every little reaction, every gasp, every involuntary flutter of you around his cock.
You couldn’t stop moaning. Every piston of his hips drove another wave of heat through your body. Every hard knock of his cock pounded into your slick, yielding walls with delicious fullness, stretching you over and over until your legs quivered beneath his hands. Each forceful press of his hips also drove the firm pressure of the plug nestled inside your ass a little deeper against you, the rhythmic smother of his heavy balls teasing around it with every thrust until the combined sensations blurred together into one overwhelming rush that left your toes curling and your entire body trembling beneath him.
“Oh, God, fuck me…” The plea spilled from your lips before you even realized you’d spoken, carried away on a breathless moan as you fought through the haze of pleasure just to keep your eyes open. Every brutal snap of his hips threatened to roll them helplessly back again, and it took every ounce of concentration you had left to drag your gaze upward toward the ridiculously large man towering over you, handling you like you were his favorite damn toy.
His hand made sure you looked. It came up in one decisive motion, broad fingers spreading across your jaw as his palm cradled your chin and cheeks with possessive firmness. His grip wasn’t painful, only demanding, gently but unmistakably insisting that your attention belonged to him. Every rough thrust jolted your head in his hand while he held your face steady enough that you couldn’t escape his eyes.
“What was that?” He asked, his voice roughened by the way he was breathing, “louder for me, little one.”
Your vision blurred around the edges again as another powerful thrust rocked through your body, your walls clenching helplessly around the magnificent thickness of his girth before your eyes finally focused on him. God…He was beautiful. His face had flushed all the way down his neck and across the broad expanse of his chest, a fine sheen of sweat making every hard line of muscle glisten beneath the afternoon light filtering into the laundry closet. Damp strands of auburn hair clung carelessly to his forehead, and those heavy, hooded golden eyes remained locked onto you with such shameless hunger that another pulse of heat surged through your stomach.
He looked at you exactly the way a starving wolf looked at its favorite meal. There wasn’t an ounce of restraint left in him. Every snap of his hips carried that same beautiful, beastly need, driving his cock deep into you with enough force to leave you breathless while his expression unraveled right alongside yours. His jaw remained tight, every muscle in his forearms flexing beneath your grip as he held your thighs apart again and watched you come undone beneath him, openly captivated by every gasp, every flutter of your pussy around him, every expression that crossed your face.
The sight burned itself into your memory. It was exhilarating. God, what a thrill it was to be looked at like that, to be wanted with such naked intensity by the gorgeous, wolfish man wrecking you so thoroughly you could barely remember your own name. The shameless chemistry between you blazed hotter with every thrust, filling your chest until it overflowed into another desperate clench around his thick cock. Your body simply couldn’t stop reacting to him. Every powerful drive of his hips coaxed another involuntary squeeze from your insides, gripping him tighter and tighter as though you were trying to keep every inch of him buried inside you.
“I said fuck me!” You cried, your voice louder this time, breaking beautifully beneath another hard thrust. Your nails dug deeper into the thick muscle of his forearms, feeling every tendon tighten beneath your fingertips as his grip on you grew just as desperate, “harder! Harder! Come on, I want it rough! Play rough with me!”
Oh, that did it. The change in him was immediate. His hands released your thighs only long enough to slide farther up, wrapping securely around your calves before he drove them higher, folding your body toward him until your knees were nearly pressed over your shoulders. His fingertips dug firmly into your flesh, holding you in the tighter position with obvious purpose, your hips naturally tilting beneath him until your pussy was offered to him even more completely.
The new angle stole the breath clean out of your lungs. Your jaw fell open all over again as you felt the impossible increase in the depth of every thrust. It wasn’t just harder. It was deeper. Hungrier. His fervor exploded into something beautifully animalistic, his cock driving into you with a zeal that bordered on desperate as though every instinct inside him had finally snapped its leash. The rhythm he’d been building shattered beneath raw need, replaced by powerful, relentless thrusts that rocked your entire body over the steadily humming washing machine, bumping it into the dryer beside it each time. Every hard clap of his hips against your ass echoed through the cramped laundry closet, mingling with the wet slap of your pussy taking every inch of his cock and the steady rumble beneath your back.
The pressure inside you climbed with terrifying speed. It built so violently you couldn’t keep pace with it. Every brutal piston of his hips stuffed your gummy, slippery walls completely full before pulling back only enough to plunge straight through you again, the magnificent thickness of his cock stretching you over and over while the snug metal plug nestled in your asshole turned every impact into another overwhelming jolt of fullness. You fluttered uncontrollably around him, squeezing tighter with every thrust as your body chased something it could no longer comprehend.
You couldn’t look away from Valko. Every muscle across his chest, shoulders, stomach, and arms bulged beneath flushed skin, standing out in hard definition as he held you folded beneath him. Thick veins climbed his forearms where his hands gripped your calves, his fingers tightening every time his hips snapped forward. His chest glistened with a sheen of dripping sweat that caught the afternoon light, each powerful breath making it rise and fall faster than the last. His sculpted jaw remained clenched so tightly you could see the muscles flex beneath his skin, and the tendons in his neck stood out prominently with every ragged inhale. His lips had fallen open just enough for uneven breaths to spill free, his heavy, hooded golden eyes never leaving your face as he watched you unravel beneath him.
God…He looked magnificent. Wild. Carnal. Every bit the enormous wolf who’d completely lost himself in you. He looked absolutely fucking insane for you. The sight alone sent another desperate squeeze through your cunt, your body greedily milking every inch of his cock as he continued battering into you with unabashed need. The pressure inside your stomach became almost unbearable, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like your entire body had become one trembling nerve ending.
It happened so suddenly you couldn’t even warn him. One impossibly deep thrust buried him to the hilt. The pressure shattered. It ripped through you like a bolt of white-hot electricity, exploding from your core and racing through every muscle in your body. Your back arched violently off the washing machine as a helpless cry tore from your throat, your entire body convulsing from head to toe while wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. The release overtook you completely, hot and overwhelming, your juices splashing out in a sudden, forceful rush as your cunt clenched frantically around his cock, refusing to let him go while you shook beneath him in the grip of your orgasm.
“Yes!” You screamed with unrestrained glee, your entire body shaking from head to toe as wave after wave continued crashing through you, “Val!”
Your eyes struggled to stay open through the blinding intensity, yet somehow you both found yourselves staring downward, completely enthralled by the breathtakingly filthy sight between your bodies. Every powerful thrust sent your joined bodies crashing together with another wet slap, your pussy splashing around his magnificent cock as your juices sprayed shamelessly over the hard planes of his sculpted abs, across his flushed hips, and down the powerful muscles of his thighs. Warm rivulets ran over the curve of your ass before dripping onto the humming washing machine beneath you, leaving both of you soaked in the glorious aftermath of your pleasure.
“Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going!” You begged, voice crescendoing into a scream.
“Anything you want, gorgeous,” he answered through a wide, breathless grin, every word broken apart by ragged pants as he continued pounding into you without hesitation. His chest heaved from the effort while another hot splash from between your legs painted him all over again. The sensation only made his smile widen, “squirt all over me, uh-huh…Right here, give it right here!”
You couldn’t think anymore. Every coherent thought had long since dissolved into a deliciously overheated haze where nothing existed except him, the relentless rhythm of his hips, and the overwhelming pleasure consuming your body. You found yourself trapped inside a blissful trance, your lips endlessly spilling praises, pleas, and desperate little begs without conscious thought. You craved him with shameless greed, every inch of that enormous wolf of a man, every sound he made, every expression that crossed his face, every powerful thrust that sent another violent pulse of pleasure surging through your body.
He looked just as lost. Golden eyes remained fixed on you with naked devotion while deep, helpless groans escaped him one after another, the sounds growing rougher, lower, almost animalistic beneath the sheer exertion of refusing to slow down. You never let him. Every time his pace threatened to falter, your hands found him again, your words urged him on again, demanding more, demanding harder, demanding that he fuck you until neither of you remembered where one body ended and the other began.
He obeyed. Gladly. The laundry closet echoed with nothing but the relentless applause of skin striking skin, the wet sounds of your pussy greedily swallowing every inch of him, your uneven breathing tangling with his, and the shameless stream of filthy words tumbling from both of your mouths between desperate moans and shouts. Time seemed to disappear altogether beneath the relentless pace until you could practically feel the inevitable building inside him.
You noticed it before he said a single word. His balls hung heavier against you with every thrust. The muscles across his biceps and chest tightened harder. His breathing became rougher, every inhale catching somewhere deep in his chest while his jaw flexed so tightly you thought it might ache afterward. His cock somehow felt even hotter inside you, throbbing insistently with every deep plunge as though it had developed a heartbeat of its own. His rhythm lost the last traces of measured control, surrendering completely to raw instinct as paradise drew closer and closer with every powerful drive of his hips. You saw the exact moment it happened. The moment restraint abandoned him. The moment Valko reached the edge. The moment he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back another second.
“Cum inside me,” you urged, your voice trembling with excitement as your hands slid down to his hips. His skin was slick beneath your palms, damp with sweat and with you, making your fingers glide over the hard muscle as you held him close. A breathless giggle escaped you at the sight of him unraveling so beautifully above you, his expression completely wrecked by pleasure, and your heart melted almost as quickly as your body did, “let me have it now, come on, good boy, Val!”
That did it. That absolutely did it.
“C-cumming,” he gritted through clenched fangs, his voice cracking beneath the sheer force of it as every muscle across his powerful frame flexed impossibly tighter. His hands slipped from your calves and crashed down onto the washing machine on either side of your shoulders, the appliance groaning faintly beneath the combined weight of both of you. His orgasm hit him all at once, so suddenly and so completely that his entire body visibly convulsed. He shook like a leaf above you, broad shoulders trembling with every involuntary shudder while his golden eyes rolled blissfully back beneath fluttering lids. His neck tipped with them, exposing the taut line of his throat as another helpless groan tore free, “Y/n! Fuck!”
One uneven thrust rolled through you. Then another. Then he buried himself completely inside your cunt, hips settling flush against you as the strength seemed to pour out of his body all at once. Your calves still rested over his broad shoulders while his full weight hovered protectively above you, and you felt the unmistakable pulse of his cock as he came. Thick, hot ropes of his cum flooded your pussy one after another, filling you so thoroughly you felt every powerful throb deep inside your body. His heavy balls twitched rhythmically against your fluttering lips while he emptied himself into you with a long, ragged sound of relief that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, every pulse accompanied by another tiny tremor that rippled through his exhausted body.
You never stopped looking at him. You watched the tension slowly melt from his face, watched the hard line of his jaw soften as the last aftershocks faded through him. His breathing remained uneven, chest rising and falling against yours while beads of sweat clung to his brow and trickled lazily down the sides of his flushed face. Then, little by little, the dazed expression gave way to the sweetest, shakiest smile.
Your heart melted. He lowered his forehead until it rested gently against yours, both of you sharing the same warm breaths while he smiled at you with blissful exhaustion painted all over his handsome face. Without a word, he leaned down and smothered his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. You couldn’t help giggling into it, the sound vibrating softly between your mouths as you kissed him back just as lazily.
The poor thing was completely spent. He still tasted like you. You shamelessly indulged in the kiss, smiling against his tired mouth while your fingers drifted affectionately through the damp strands of auburn hair clinging to his scalp. Somewhere behind him, you could both hear and feel the slow, tired swish of his enormous tail. It no longer thumped excitedly against the walls. Instead, it lazily wagged back and forth near the floor in content little sweeps, betraying just how happy the exhausted werewolf still was despite having barely enough energy left to stand.
Then, completely ruining the moment, the washing machine stopped. The steady vibration beneath your back faded away before the little electronic chime cheerfully announced that the cycle had finished.
“Ding ding ding,” he mumbled automatically, still breathing hard as he absentmindedly sang along with the tune out of pure habit, “di-di-di-ding…”
You stared at him for half a second. Then completely lost it.
“Ding ding ding, di-di-di-diiiing!” Both of you dissolved into helpless laughter, the ridiculous little duet echoing through the laundry closet while he leaned down to steal another affectionate kiss from you between chuckles.
“Now get this thing out of my ass,” you giggled breathlessly.
“Huh?”
“The butt plug, Valko.”
His exhausted brain visibly stalled.
“…Ohhh,” he finally breathed, blinking down at you before another sheepish smile spread across his dripping, flushed face, “right, right. Forgot.”
You laughed so hard you nearly smacked yourself, “you’re such a dork.”
“Mhm.”
Still wearing that thoroughly fried, lovestruck smile, he took his time. He slowly eased his softening cock from your pussy, lingering just long enough to make sure you were comfortable before the last inch finally slipped free. Only then did his hand drift lower, his touch as patient and gentle as it had been throughout the rest of the afternoon. He carefully curled his fingers around the smooth metal plug before easing it out just as slowly, his expression still pleasantly dazed as though his mind hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that laundry day had somehow become…This.
concept: you woke up in the middle of the night, feeling ticklish and sticky. turns out, it was your husband rubbing himself on you.
tags/cw: 18+, zayne x reader, smut, minors DNI, zayne is needy, zayne misses you so much, humping, suggestive, a bit goofy at the start
You were sleeping peacefully, lips parted slightly. A faint puff of breath escaped your lips with every slow exhale.
In your dream, Zayne was cooking pancakes, which you had been craving after cutting some sugar.
'Yummy pancakes, he he he,' was all you thought in your sleep. You stood up from the counter stool, walked towards Zayne, and wrapped your arms around him from behind.
"Zayne, I'll put some syrup on the finished ones."
Stepping away from his back, you reached for the plastic bottle of maple syrup sitting on the counter. However, the moment your fingers curled around the bottle, you felt something strange— the plastic was strangely sticky and slippery, seemingly from the leftovers you made the last time you used it. Shrugging it off, you twisted the cap open, humming with excitement.
However, as soon as you lifted the bottle over the plate, your grip suddenly slipped. The syrup splashed right down in front of your shirt.
"‘M sticky now!" you jolted, body stirring, slowly opening your eyes from sleep.
You started rubbing your eyes, consciousness sinking in. "Sticky...?" And as your vision became vivid, a familiar figure began to take shape in front of you.
It was your husband, Zayne. His eyes were darkened, and his composure was seemingly disoriented. A deep, heavy flush stained his cheeks, contrasting with his usually fair skin. Beads of sweat glistened along his temple, a single drop tracing a path down the sharp line of his jaw. His jaw clenched, and his chest heaved as his breath hitched.
"Huh...? Zayne? Hngh—"
Before you could fully come to your senses, you felt something heavy pressing against your soft, thin panties. Instinctively, you moved a little, trying to make sense of the foreign feeling.
A low, ragged groan escaped from Zayne's lips as he tilted his head slightly backwards, biting his lip in the process.
"Oh..." Your face reddened slightly, seeing Zayne's thick, long shaft pressed against the fabric of your already soaked panties. His arms were on both of your sides, and the first two buttons of his uniform were left open.
"I'm sorry, my love... this—"
"You could've woken me up, Zaynie..." you whispered, encircling your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
"I'm sorry... you looked so beautiful that I— hah— lost my control." He explained, rubbing his dick up and down, making you even wetter.
"Mmm... you just came home, and you miss me that much?" You teasingly grinned, lowering your hand. You playfully stroke his hard length, eliciting another groan from him.
"Ha— yes—" Zayne gripped the bedsheets tightly, trying to maintain his composure. "Y-you've been on my mind the entire day..."
"Is that so? You deserve a reward for your honesty, my love." You gripped half of his dick with your left hand, rubbing it up and down rhythmically with his humping.
You pressed your index finger on the opening of his tip, and you heard a faint click of his tongue. Suddenly, as if something snapped inside him, he adjusted himself, and with one slide, he pressed against the bump of your clitoris, making you gasp.
"Zayne—!" You moaned, holding onto his arms, startled by the sudden stimulation.
His pace quickened, vigorously jerking his hips against you. Small spurts of pre-cum leaked from his tip, and his breathing became more ragged. The heat from the friction against your clothed pussy made him feel drunk, as if his hips were programmed to thrust automatically.
He buried his face on your neck, inhaling your fragrance as if it were his source of breath. "You feel s’ good, my love." He bit your sensitive earlobe, making you moan in pleasure. "Hah— this—"
Feeling his thrusts become faster, you felt your climax building up in your stomach. "Z-Zayne— Ah! I-I’m going to cum—"
"Cum, cum for me, my love."
As his dick hit your clit once more, your toes curled, and your fingers clawed on his back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as juices squirted out of your arousal.
Feeling the wetness of your juices coat his dick, Zayne grunted in pleasure. His hips rutted against you sloppily as thick ropes of his cum splurted on your exposed stomach.
You panted, catching your breath as the tension from your body began to wear off. Zayne planted a soft kiss on your temple, caressing your cheek afterwards.
"I'm sorry for this... event, my love." He said in a low voice as his eyes met yours. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you all day."
You chuckled softly. "It's alright, Zayne. Believe it or not, I..." you paused. "... like seeing you lose control sometimes."
Zayne looked away with a flustered expression. "Please refrain from teasing me," he said.
"Hmm? But it seems like the little one here hasn't calmed down." You mischievously looked down on his painfully hard dick. With your playful remark, Zayne's length twitched.
You leaned on Zayne's ear. "Please demonstrate just how much you missed me, Doctor Zayne."
Welp, let's just say you underestimated your husband and were limping the next day.
a/n: yo this was supposed to be short but it turned out a bit long lmao. i can't believe i wrote this with a straight face. sorry by the way, i don't write smut, so i am still working around the terms that i use ><, but i couldn't get this one out of my head so... also i didn't expect that my previous zayne oneshot would receive so much love. i appreciate you guys so much.
also, for my future drabbles and ficlets, i'm going to use these small letters format, but for my oneshots, i'll use the normal paragraph font size.
if y'all wanna see zayne taking care of our tired non-mc, check out here!
love lots xx
summary: in which your tiny little chihuahua shows your big bad werewolf boyfriend who the top dog really is
wc: 1.3k
content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff
You gave the couch throw pillow one final fluff, tossing it onto the corner of the couch. Beside it, curled up in a fuzzy blanket, was your darling chihuahua. His tiny brown head perked up, large watery eyes tracking your movements, and his oversized ears twitching as you placed a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“Be good tonight,” you warned, pointing a finger at the tiny creature. “Valko’s coming over and I want you on your best behavior.”
The dog only whined, looking between you and the popcorn on the table, waiting for you to cave and give him a piece.
Right on cue, three heavy knocks sounded at the door. Instantly, your apartment was filled with the yapping of the little dog, now scrambling to get off the couch and guard the door.
You followed him, a fond smile tugging your lips. You unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Valko stood in the hallway, looking effortlessly handsome in a dark jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders. He held a plastic bag filled with your favorite snacks, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Hey,” he greeted, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He took one step over the threshold.
“YAP! YAP! YAP!”
Valko froze mid-stride, his boot hovering an inch above the doormat. Planted firmly between you and the “intruder” was four pounds of fury. The chihuahua’s paws practically left the floor with every explosive bark.
You used your foot to nudge him backward, waving Valko in so you could shut the door. He walked in slowly, raising his bag of snacks like a shield. His golden eyes darted from the noisy thing at his feet to you, his lovely girlfriend, with a look of profound bewilderment. “Why does he hate me so much?”
You shrugged. “He’s just protective. Not all that much different than what you did to that guy who asked for my number last week,” you said, picking up the frantic dog and tucking it into your arms like an angry football, the barking quieting down to a low growl.
“That was different,” Valko protested, following you into the living room.
“Is it?” you teased. You plopped down onto the couch, patting the space next to you. Valko set the bag of snacks on the coffee table, warily eyeing the sentinel staring him down from the comfort of your lap.
He lowered himself onto the cushion next to you as slowly as he could to not invoke the anger of the furry beast. The couch dipped significantly under his weight. The chihuahua growled, but remained in your lap, his chocolate-colored body shaking as he watched your boyfriend’s every move.
Valko sighed with relief when he managed to sit without any yapping. “He’s so small,” Valko muttered, watching the dog warily. “But so, so angry.”
“He’s the man of the house when you're not here,” you teased again, leaning back into the plush couch cushions. Seeing an opportunity, Valko tried to casually slide his arm along the back of the couch to drape it across your shoulders.
“YAP! YAP!”
The little dog lunged, propping his front paws on your chest to snap at Valko’s arm. Valko flinched his arm back, tucking his hands safely against his chest. “Okay,” Valko exclaimed breathily, staring down at the tiny defender. “No touching. Got it.”
Halfway through the movie, the relentless barking finally caught up to your little protector. His heavy, watery eyes blinked slowly against the glow of the television screen. With a dramatic sigh, he circled three times on your lap, tucked his nose under his tail, and collapsed into a brown puddle of fur.
Carefully, so as not to disturb the fragile peace, you pulled the throw blanket over him. Within seconds, a faint snore rumbled from under the fabric.
Valko’s golden eyes cut sideways, tracking the rise and fall of the blanket. He waited. One minute, then two. Slowly, with the careful precision of a predator stalking its prey, Valko began to lift his arm from his knee. He didn't make a sound. His broad shoulders shifted by a fraction of an inch as he hovered his arm over the back of the sofa, gradually sliding it down until it rested behind your shoulders.
He didn't pull you close just yet, holding his breath, his eyes glued to the lump on your lap. He stayed there, stiff as a board, until he was sure the chihuahua was still sound asleep. You had to press a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, your shoulders shaking against his side.
“Stop laughing,” Valko whispered, concerned with the way the lump was now resituating itself. “You’ll wake him up.” When the blanket settled again, Valko finally let a slow, relieved exhale. He gently curled his fingers around your upper arm, pulling you just a tiny bit closer into his warmth.
Emboldened by his success, Valko looked down at you, the soft light from the TV reflecting in his eyes and illuminating his handsome features. He leaned in slowly, his gaze dropping to your lips.
“Grrrr…”
A muffled growl emanated from the blanket. The lump didn't even move, but the canine’s internal radar was clearly operational. Valko paused, his lips just inches from yours, a look of utter frustration crossing his face.
“He’s psychic,” Valko accused, his eyes narrowing at the blanket. “There's no other explanation.”
You couldn't help but chuckle. Deciding you had had enough of the four-pound dictator, you reached up, cupping Valko’s jaw with both hands, and pulled him down into a firm, loving kiss. You deepened the kiss just long enough to hear him groan into it.
“Finally,” Valko whispered against your lips when you pulled away, a warm smile lighting up his face.
— — —
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through your bedroom curtains. You blinked your eyes open, feeling the slow rise and fall of Valko’s chest beneath your cheek. Some time in the middle of the night, you had fallen asleep on the couch, and Valko—braving a barrage of barks— had carefully carried you to bed.
You were currently tucked securely against his side, your head propped comfortably on his shoulder while his heavy arm wrapped around you, holding you close. You shifted slightly, intending to look up at his face, but stopped when you noticed that Valko was wide awake, staring directly at the ceiling.
“Valko?” you grumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”
“Don't move,” he answered, his deep morning voice a rumble in his chest. “This is a hostage situation.”
Curious, you lifted your head just enough to look down the length of his body. You immediately had to bury your face in his neck to smother your laughter.
Stretched out flat on his back, the expanse of Valko’s firm abdomen had beeb claimed. Perched directly in the center of his stomach was your little chihuahua, the dog curled up in a tight ball. The giant wolf-hybrid had been utterly defeated, rendered nothing more than your dog’s personal mattress.
“He followed us from the living room,” Valko explained softly, not daring to breathe too deeply. “He spent an hour just glaring at me from the foot of the bed. This is where he was when I woke up.”
You smiled, sliding your hand up to Valko’s cheek. “What are you complaining for? Seems like he’s finally accepting you.”
“He accepts my body heat,” Valko corrected dryly, though his arm tightened just a fraction around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a soft kiss to your hairline. “Now, please move him. I’ve had to use the bathroom for the last two hours.”
For the Valko requests, I would love to see some cute family fluff between MC, Valko, his cousins, grandma, and his sister (I think he had a sister in his lore, correct me if I am wrong), because I want to see how MC would get along with Valko's family. 🐺
𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄
synopsis: when valko brings you home for the first time, he warns you about everything: his grandmother’s food, his sister’s stare, his cousin’s stories, the family jokes that always cut too close. he forgets to warn you that love in his house is not gentle or quiet, but loud, practical, mercilessly observant, and served warm at the kitchen table.
cw/tw: valko x reader. very soft domestic fluff. light family teasing.
read here: ao3 ⋅ tumblr
Valko lost his nerve three steps from the door.
It was a small death, but you saw it happen; the brave lift of his chin, the twitch in his jaw, the small, tragic collapse of his entire face when a crash came from inside the house.
His hand tightened around yours.
“Dobro,” he said.
Another crash.
From inside, and older woman called, “If that's my good plate, I will put someone in the ground before supper.”
Valko closed his eyes. You turned toward him.
He opened one eyes. “She loves plates.”
“More than people?”
“Depends on the people.”
You laughed before you could stop yourself, and relief moved through him all at once, softening his shoulders, loosening the frightened line of his mouth. He'd been nervous all morning. Badly nervous. Valko, who could grin with blood on his teeth and make danger look like a door he'd simply forgotten to knock on, had spent the whole walk here giving you warnings no sane person could have prepared for.
Do not let Mika read your palm. He makes things up and then believes them.
Do not compliment Baba's curtains unless you want curtains.
Do not say you're full.
And, most importantly, if anyone mentions the soup incident, Valko had said, grave as a condemned man, they're lying.
You had asked what the soup incident was.
He had started to walk faster.
Now he stood before the old wooden door with your fingers caught in his, trying to look calm and producing, somehow, the exact expression of a wolf about to be bathed.
“Valko,” you said softly.
“Yes?”
“You're shaking.”
“I'm not shaking.”
“You are.”
“I’m containing myself.”
“From what?”
“Hereditary embarrassment.”
The door flew open.
A girl about his age stood on the other side, dark-eyed and grinning, with flour on her cheek and murder in her posture. She took one look at Valko’s hand around yours, then lifted her gaze to his face with the slow delight of someone finding a knife exactly where she had hoped one would be.
A slow smile cut across her face.
“Oh,” she smirked. “So this is why you changed your shirt twice.”
Valko made a sound. Small, wounded, entirely unlike a wolf.
“I changed once.”
“You changed twice. The first shirt was the blue one. The second was the one that made you look like you were going to court. This...This is the third.”
His ears went red.
The woman held out her hand to you. “Milena. His sister.”
“Unfortunately,” Valko added.
“Fortunately. Without me, you'd still think soap is optional in winter.”
“It isn't optional.”
“Because of me.”
You took Milena's hand. Her grip was warm, firm, and full of judgement she hadn't yet decided to use.
Behind her, the house breathed out heat. Bread, onions, some in old wood, something sweet cooling on a counter. There were voices everywhere, layered and crossing. One person laughing while another complained, a child humming under a table, chairs scraping, a kettle whistling like a bird losing patience.
Milena stepped aside. “Come in before Baba starts saying we were raised by wolves.”
Valko muttered, “We were.”
She looked at him. “And still, some of us learned manners.”
You crossed the threshold. The house was smaller than the noise made it seem, or maybe the noise had simply learned to fill every corner. Framed photographs climbed the walls in crooked rows. Herbs hung drying above the kitchen window. Nothing matched, and yet everything looked touched, mended, argued over... kept.
Valko leaned close as he helped you out of your coat.
“Last chance,” he whispered. “We can run.”
You looked past him to where an old woman stood near the stove, hands folded over her apron, watching you with bright, wolfish eyes.
“Too late,” you whispered back. “I think she heard you.”
“I hear everything,” the old woman said.
Valko went still.
Milena smiled into her shoulder.
The old woman crossed the kitchen with the slow authority of someone who had ruled this house before any of them had teeth. She was small, broad in the shoulders, silver-haired, with flour on her wrist and no softness wasted in her face. The softness, you realised, was elsewhere. In the bread covered by a towel, in the chair pulled out before you reached it, in the way Valko lowered his head without being asked when she came close.
“Baba,” he said, and for the first time that day, his voice lost its jokes.
She, of course, ignored him.
Instead, she took your face between both hands.
Her palms smelled of rosemary, yeast, and soap. Her thumbs rested beneath your cheekbones, and for one strange second the whole house seemed to lean closer. The cousins, the kettle, the old boards, even Valko, holding his breath beside you.
“So,” Baba Vesna said. “You are the reason he forgets to eat.”
“I eat,” Valko protested.
Teta Marika appeared by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “You came here last week, opened the pantry, stared at a sack of potatoes for six minutes, then said, ‘I wonder what she’s doing.’”
“That was taken out of context.”
“What was the context?” you asked, because love had made you brave and terrible.
Valko looked betrayed. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
A boy leaning backwards on his chair nearly lost balance from laughing, another cousin caught the chair by its back without looking up from peeling an apple.
Baba Vesna patted your cheek once and released you. “Sit, dušo. Eat something before my family embarrass me properly.”
Valko gave a strangled laugh. “Before?”
No one listened to him.
You were placed at the long wooden table as if the decision had been made before you arrived. A bowl appeared, then bread, then butter, then a small plate of pickled vegetables. Teta Marika, Valko's aunt, kissed the air beside your cheeks and took the small gift you had brought. Mika announced that he already knew your favourite colour from Valko’s face. Luka told him that was the stupidest sentence ever spoken in the kitchen, which Mika accepted as praise. The little one beneath the table emerged, solemn and bread-dusted, and introduced himself as Niko.
“Are you going to marry him?” Niko asked.
Valko walked directly into the side of a chair.
The whole kitchen paused. You pressed your lips together.
Milena leaned against the doorway, radiant with cruelty. “Careful, Niko. Val only has two knees.”
“Niko,” Teta Marika turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “We ask guests if they want juice first.”
Niko nodded, absorbing this etiquette with grave importance. “Do you want juice before you marry him?”
Valko covered his face with both hands. You bit down on your smile so hard it almost hurt. This wasn't what you had expected.
Some foolish, frightened part of you had imagined a den in the old sense. Teeth, watchful eyes, a family arranged around blood and law, waiting to decide whether your bones could be allowed near theirs. Valko had never spoken of them casually. Whenever he said home, something tender and embarrassed moved through him, as though the word itself had fingers and knew exactly where to touch.
Now you sat beneath a crooked lamp while his grandmother tore bread with her hands and put the first piece on your plate.
“Eat,” Baba Vesna said.
You obeyed.
The bread was warm enough to steam between your fingers. The crust cracked softly, butter melted into it in golden lines. Across the table, Valko watched you take the first bite as if your mouth held judgment from heaven.
You chewed. Swallowed.
“It’s delicious.”
Baba Vesna clicked her tongue. “Of course it is wonderful. I made it.”
Mika leaned towards you. “He talked about you after the market yesterday.”
Valko’s hand hit the table. “No.”
“Yes, you did” Luka said sticking his tongue out.
“No.”
“You said, and I quote, 'she chooses fruit with such care'.”
The table went quiet for half a breath, your hand stilled around the bread. Valko looked at Luka as if betrayal had entered the room wearing his cousin’s face.
“That was private.”
“You said it in the kitchen.”
“That makes it private.”
Milena sat across from you and rested her chin in her hand. “He also said you have kind hands.”
Valko’s mouth opened, nothing came out. Your heart did something foolish inside your chest.
The teasing had worked him bright and flustered, but beneath it, something softer trembled. He was embarrassed, yes. Horribly, so. Beautifully, so. Yet the thing underneath was more dangerous than shame. This was exposure. A curtain pulled open in a room he had spent so long keeping dim.
He had spoken of you here.
At this table. In this warm, loud house. To these people who teased him because they knew what he looked like with no armour on. He had brought you home long before he ever brought your body through the door.
Baba Vesna filled your bowl with soup.
“He was always like this,” she said.
“Baba, please.”
“He was a strange child,” she said.
Valko groaned. “Please.”
“A sweet child,” Teta Marika corrected.
“A dramatic child,” Luka said.
“A biting child,” Milena added.
Valko pointed at her. “You bit first.”
“You looked biteable.”
“You see what I mean?” Valko turned to you with helpless outrage. “This is what I survived.”
There was love in it, the kind that had been cooked too long and reduced into something strong enough to stain. They spoke to him as if they had known every version of him and chosen, again and again, to keep putting food in front of whichever one came home.
You looked at him while he argued with Mika about whether a stolen spoon counted as a childhood trauma.
He caught you looking. For a moment, the noise thinned.
There he was.
Valko with his hair refusing every law of decency. Valko trying so hard to survive his own family and failing beautifully. His eyes met yours with a nervous brightness that made you want to reach across the table and be cruel to every fear that had ever found him.
Then Niko pointed his spoon at you.
“Are you keeping him?”
The kitchen stopped.
Valko made a tiny sound into his bowl.
Milena closed her eyes as if praying for patience and finding none. “Niko.”
“What? Mika said maybe she is keeping him.”
His gaze dropped to the table, to the bread by his hand, to the small old cuts in the wood. The blush still clung to him, but it had changed into something quieter now. Hope, perhaps. Or terror wearing hope’s coat.
You could have laughed. Everyone would have let you. It would have been easy to throw the question back into the room like a toy and watch them tear it apart.
Instead, beneath the table, you found Valko’s hand.
His fingers closed around yours at once.
“I’d like to,” you said.
The house held itself still for half a breath.
Then Baba Vesna nodded, once, as if some old contract had been signed in soup and honey.
“Good,” she said. “He is difficult, but warm.”
Valko bowed his head.
His shoulders shook.
At first you thought he was upset. Then you realised he was laughing, quietly, helplessly, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding yours under the table like he meant to keep it there until winter.
Mika groaned. “Ah, look at him. Finished. Completely finished.”
Milena reached for the pickles. “Good. He needed finishing.”
Teta Marika smiled into her tea. “Eat more, zlato. You will need strength.”
“For Valko?” you asked.
“For all of us.”
Dinner became less a meal than a storm with chairs.
Bowls moved, hands reached, stories climbed over one another and died unfinished because someone remembered a better accusation. Luka asked you practical questions in a calm voice: where you liked to walk, whether Valko had shown you the old river path, whether he still pretended not to like sweet things. Mika tried to read your palm and declared that you were fated to own a troublesome dog.
“That's just Valko,” Milena said.
“I am not a dog.”
“True,” Luka said. “Dogs listen.”
Valko began quietly placing the best pieces of food on your plate.
A soft carrot, the inside of the bread, a dumpling he pretended to move away from himself and somehow abandoned beside your spoon. He was not subtle. He had never been subtle. He was a wolf trying to hide a whole deer behind a napkin.
You noticed on the fourth offering.
His family noticed on the first.
Baba Vesna said nothing until Valko tried to give you the last honey cake. Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her tea.
“Ah,” she said.
Valko froze.
It was one syllable. It landed like a bell.
“What?” he said.
“No, no.” She waved him off. “Continue. Starve for romance. Very noble.”
Mika threw his head back.
You picked up the honey cake before Valko could die at the table and broke it in two, placing half on his plate. “There,” you said. “No starving.”
He looked at the cake.
Then he looked at you.
His expression opened in a way that made the room, somehow, feel too small for your heart. It opened with that unguarded, bewildered softness he sometimes gave you when kindness arrived before he had prepared himself to receive it.
Milena saw it.
Her teasing quieted.
For a moment, she only watched him with something old and protective in her face.
Then she stood. “Come help me with plates.”
Valko blinked. “Me?”
“Her.” Milena pointed at you.
Valko frowned. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That's not a reason.”
“It has worked on you for years.”
You rose before he could protest again. Milena took two plates from the table and handed you none of them, which told you at once that this had nothing to do with helping.
She led you down a narrow hallway lined with photographs.
Behind you, Valko’s voice rose. “Do not interrogate her.”
The hallway smelled faintly of beeswax and dried herbs. The noise of the kitchen softened behind you, still there, still golden, but now wrapped in walls. Milena stopped by a window overlooking the yard and leaned her hip against the sill.
For the first time all evening, she let the smile leave her face.
“He likes you,” she said.
You smiled gently. “I got that impression.”
“No.” Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen. “He likes people easily. He likes old men who tell bad stories, stray cats that scratch him, children who throw rocks at windows because they want attention. Valko is built stupid that way.”
A laugh escaped you.
Milena folded her arms.
“He brings things home,” she continued. “Broken things, angry things. Things he thinks no one else will be gentle with.” Her gaze moved towards the kitchen, where Valko’s voice lifted in protest. “He does not bring people home.”
Your throat tightened.
From the kitchen, Valko shouted, “It wasn't soup. It was stew.”
Mika shouted back, “Stew cannot make a grown man cry.”
“I was overwhelmed by flavour.”
Milena closed her eyes for one second. “Bože, give me strength.”
You laughed softly.
She looked at you again, sharper now.
“He was nervous all week,” she said. “Changed his shirt three times. Asked me if the house smelled too much like onions. Asked Luka if his laugh was strange. Asked Baba if she could please not tell the story about the goat.”
“The goat?”
“Later.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “Maybe never.”
You glanced back towards the kitchen.
He had asked if his laugh was strange.
Something in you ached with such tenderness that it almost felt like anger.
You looked down.
“He didn’t need to worry,”
“He is clumsy with precious things,” she said. “Because he thinks his hands are only good for breaking them, even when he is careful. Especially then.”
“So be kind,” she said. “Or be cruel quickly. He will survive either, but I prefer to know which one I’m dealing with.”
There it was.
The knife under the table. The love with its teeth intact. You didn't resent her for it, you thought, strangely, that you liked her more for it.
“I’m not here to hurt him,”
“Most people aren’t, at first.”
“Milena.”
Milena’s gaze narrowed.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with him,” you admitted.
“With any of this,” you continued. “He makes everything feel…” You searched for the word and hated every pretty one that came. Fated. Wild. Tender. All too polished for the mess he made of your heart. “He makes everything feel like I’ve been walking past a door my whole life, and he is the idiot who opened it with his shoulder.”
Milena stared at you.
Then she laughed once, sharp and startled.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re gone too.”
You looked down, caught.
She seemed satisfied. “Good.”
“Is that approval?”
“That is me deciding not to be difficult.”
“You were being difficult?”
“Dušo,” she said, and now her smile had teeth in it, “I was being polite.”
When you returned to the kitchen, Valko was waiting near the doorway as if he had tried to remain seated and failed.
His eyes moved from you to Milena. “What did you say to her?”
Milena walked past him. “That you were adopted.”
“I’m not.”
“Emotionally, you're a wet dog we found in the rain.”
He watched her go, wounded on principle, then turned to you with genuine concern. “What did she actually say?”
You reached up and brushed flour from his sleeve. “That you’re warm.”
“That was Baba.”
“Family consensus.”
His mouth twitched. “You are enjoying this.”
“I am.”
“You were supposed to be intimidated.”
“By Mika?”
“By the bloodline. The history. The general atmosphere of teeth.”
“Mika told me my palm says I’ll own a dog.”
Valko sighed.
You reached up and plucked the dish towel from his shoulder. “You have flour on your sleeve.”
He looked down, surprised, as if his own body had been making decisions without him. Then he looked back at you, and the kitchen noise faded once more, though this time it was only the two of you making the world small.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The question was casual enough for anyone else to miss the tremor underneath. You heard it. The naked, waiting part. You thought of his hand shaking outside the door. Baba Vesna taking your face between her palms, of bread steaming in your fingers, of honey cake divided in two, of Milena saying he doesn't bring people home.
“I’m all right,” you said. “Are you?”
Valko smiled too quickly. “I’m alive.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
His smile softened.
For once, he did not joke immediately. It cost him something. You could see it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, reaching for mischief and finding courage instead.
“I wanted them to like you,” he said. “I wanted you to like them.”
“I do”
“I wanted…” He stopped, then laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. Something stupid.”
He looked towards the kitchen, where his family had resumed their noise without mercy. Mika was accusing Luka of stealing the larger piece of cake. Baba Vesna had taken down a tin from the highest shelf, probably containing either biscuits or secrets.
“Valko, stop hiding her. I have photographs.”
Horror returned to his face with magnificent speed.
“No.”
“Yes,”
“No photographs.”
“Naked baby photos,” Mika added.
Valko went pale. “You do not have those.”
Teta Marika’s voice drifted after him, serene and deadly. “We have everything.”
He grabbed your hand. “We’re leaving.”
You let him pull you three steps before Baba Vesna appeared in the doorway holding a small album to her chest.
“Sit,” she said.
Valko sat.
It was remarkable how quickly a wolf could become a grandson.
For the next hour, they showed you the evidence of his life.
Valko missing two front teeth and glaring at the camera as though betrayed by dentistry. Valko asleep under the table with one hand buried in a dog’s fur. Valko at thirteen, all elbows and outrage, holding a fish half his size while crying because he had to put it back.
There was Valko covered in mud, Valko wearing a paper crown, Valko with Milena’s arm hooked around his neck while he pretended to hate her and leaned into her anyway. Valko standing beside Baba Vesna in the garden, holding a basket of tomatoes like he had been entrusted with the fate of nations.
Each photograph was another small door.
You had known him in pieces: the grin, the hunger, the awkward tenderness, the jokes he threw like branches over deep water. Here was the rest of him. Here was the child who had survived becoming himself because these hands had fed him, scolded him, dragged him upright, and remembered his softness when he tried to outgrow it.
At some point, while everyone argued over whether the goat incident happened before or after the soup incident, Valko bent close to you.
“You don’t have to keep looking,” he murmured.
You turned a page.
A tiny Valko stared up from the album, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.
“Yes,” you said. “I do.”
He stared at you.
Then, very briefly, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.
It lasted only a second. A shy, exhausted surrender. No one commented on it, though you knew every person in the room saw. That seemed to be another house rule. They would mock the wound, yes, but they protected the pulse.
Later, when the cups were cleared and the album returned to its shelf of holy embarrassments, you stepped outside for air.
The yard was cold, dark and soft around the edges. Herbs grew beneath the window, yhe old trees leaned towards the house as if listening. Behind you, the kitchen glowed gold, laughter pressing against the glass.
Valko followed after a moment, closing the door carefully behind him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
You looked at him. “For what?”'
“The interrogation. The photographs. Mika. The marriage question. The soup litigation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Milena.”
“I like Milena.”
“That means she behaved.”
“She said she was being polite.”
He winced. “Then she liked you.”
You leaned back against the porch railing, and he stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, rocking once on his heels like he wanted to come closer and had forgotten the law of his own body.
Through the window, you could see Baba Vesna pretending to wipe the table while watching you both with shameless interest. You lifted a hand and waved.
She waved back.
Valko turned, saw her, and groaned. “For the love of...Baba.”
“She loves you.”
“That's her usual excuse for crimes.”
“It’s a good one.”
He looked back at you, and the teasing left him slowly, piece by piece. Out here, with the house at his back, he seemed caught between the wild thing and the loved thing. The wolf and the boy in the paper crown. The man who had brought you to the threshold with shaking hands and still tried to joke like fear could be made harmless if he gave it a funny name.
“Did you mean it?” he asked.
“Which part?”
“When Niko asked if you were keeping me.”
The question came lightly, too lightly. A feather laid over a blade.
You reached for him.
This time, Valko did not hesitate. He came into your space at once, as if pulled by a string tied somewhere behind his ribs. His hands settled at your waist, careful at first, then warmer when you didn't move away.
“I meant it,”
His eyes searched yours.
“For tonight?”
“For longer than that.”
He didn't kiss you immediately. Somehow, that made it worse. He stood there and let the answer enter him, slowly, like someone opening the door to a room he had been told was empty and finding it lit.
Inside, Mika yelled, “Are they kissing?”
Valko dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
“Leave them. He is finally being normal.”
You laughed.
He looked at you then, and the last of his embarrassment broke open into something bright, something almost boyish
“Welcome home,” he said, very softly.
You touched his cheek.
Behind him, the old house breathed and creaked and held its golden noise. Inside, his family waited with tea, teeth, stories, and a place at the table already made yours.
rating: explicit/nsfw 18+
category: f/m, xavier x reader, reader-insert
tags: ooc!xavier, sub!xavier, virgin!xavier, smoker!xavier, xavier is a pathetic sardonic loser, lots of swearing, a slightly bully!reader, dom!reader, beach concert, slightly public sex, dubcon, coming thru his pants, xavier is incredibly sensitive & inexperienced, xavier has a praise kink, loss of virginity, clumsy fingering, oral (f!receiving), squirting, missionary, p in v, fucked so silly, xavier is a needy bunny, switch from msub to mdom!
wordcount: 10k
PREVIEW : “well, my friends are occupied, and it's way more entertaining to watch you squirm,” you tease, stepping closer into xavier's small sanctuary, asking if hiding in corners is his trick to attract girls, or if he's even experienced getting hit on before. xavier takes a sharp drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a fierce orange as his throat goes dry with a humiliating truth: almost no one talks to him, and the few times women have looked his way, he had frozen up so badly they assumed he was stuck-up or broken. completely unused to the piercing gaze of a girl looking at him like something to be unraveled for amusement, he simply mutters. “fuck off.”
pity fucking a loser virgin at a concert definitely was not on your 2026 bingo list.
thud! thud! thud!
the bass from the main stage doesn’t just hit your ears; it vibrates straight through the thin soles of your sandals, humming up into your ribs. the beach concert was a damn neon-lit mass of salt-sticky skin, cheap coconut rum, and the suffocating heat of a thousand bodies swaying in tandem under the humid night sky. you’d left your friends screaming lyrics into the air, slipping away to the stall by the tree line to grab a refill.
now, cup held loosely in hand, you’re trying to wedge your way back through the shifting wall of people by the shoreline. it’s like trying to navigate a labyrinth of warm shoulders and fucking sweat. you take one blind step past a group of guys laughing too loud, and your foot catches on an uneven dip in the sand.
you stumble forward, your shoulder colliding with something solid.
fuck-
the iced drink sloshes violently over the rim of your plastic cup, splashing right across a broad, pale chest.
“shit, what the fuck—”
the curse is muttered under a breath that smells faintly of bitter lime and cheap gin, the tone completely flat, deadpan, and instantly recognizable. you blink, steadying yourself, and your eyes travel upward—past the dark cargo jorts low on his hips, past the lean, surprisingly cut lines of a pale torso, and over a thin silver chain resting against his collarbone.
it’s xavier.
his sunshades are perched crookedly in his messy ash-blonde hair, reflecting the distant strobe lights, and his diamond blue eyes are narrowed down at you in sheer annoyance. what is he doing here? he looks entirely out of place, a pale ghost haunting the edges of a party he clearly didn't want to invite himself to. a black stud glints in his earlobe as he tilts his head.
xavier stares at you. the slow blink of his eyelashes makes him look like a dazed bunny caught in a trap, his brain visibly short-circuiting as he processes the fact that someone from the university—let alone a blockmate he has actively avoided eye contact with for an entire semester—is standing right in his personal space.
he doesn't know what to do with his hands. he settles for crossing his arms over his wet chest, a pathetic attempt to shield himself from you, though it only serves to flex the skinny muscle of his biceps.
“you,” he mutters, his voice a low, monotonous drone that barely cuts through the thumping bass. he sounds like he's reading a script he hates. “you're from the block. the one who sits in the back.”
“and you're the one who sits in the front and doesn't talk at all,” you shoot back, not missing a beat. you let out a mocking little laugh, tilting your head up to match his gaze. you don't offer an apology for the sticky alcohol now dripping down his sternum. instead, you eye him up and down with an amused smile. “wow, look at you. i didn't know the block phantom actually possessed a pair of legs, let alone came outside. who dragged you out of your cave, xavier?”
his jaw tenses, a tiny twitch beneath his pale skin.
he hates this. he hates the way you look at him like he’s a strange specimen under a microscope. he's used to being invisible, a background character who fades into the chalkboard grease of lecture halls. having your attention focused entirely on him feels like an interrogation.
“nobody,” xavier looks away, his eyes tracking the dark horizon of the ocean instead of facing you. “i came because i wanted to. not that it's any of your business. you should go back to your friends. you’re blocking the breeze.”
“ouch. friendly as always,“ you stepped closer just to watch the way his shoulders go rigid. you take a slow sip from your half-empty cup. “i'm surprised you even know what a breeze feels like, considering you usually look like you live in a basement. what's the matter? surprised to see me here?”
xavier's eyes flick back to you, cold and sardonic, though there's a faint tightness in his throat as he swallows. “i'm surprised you're capable of walking in a straight line. you spilled your drink on me.”
“consider it a baptism into the real world,” you say, laughing softly at his sour expression. “but seriously. you? at a beach concert? alone? it's a little pathetic, don't you think?”
xavier’s fingers dig slightly into the skin of his arms. he wants to tell you to go away. he wants to push past you and disappear into the dark, back to the quiet apartment where nobody looks at him, nobody mocks him, and nobody makes his chest feel this tight. but his feet feel heavy in the sand, anchored by the novelty of someone actually speaking to him.
“i'm fine by myself,” he says, his voice dropping into that familiar, stubborn tone. ”leave me alone.”
he turns on his heel, his large cargo jorts swishing heavily against his shins as he tries to melt back into the shadows. it’s his instinctual move—the clean break, the quiet exit. but you don’t let him. your sandals crunch in the sand right beside him, matching his stride.
“so are you seriously alone?” your voice drifts over his shoulder, light and entirely unbothered by his glaring aura of hostility. “like, actually by yourself? do you even have friends, xavier?”
the question bites, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the sand ahead. he does have friends. zayne and rafayel exist in his orbit, but the mere thought of zayne sitting on a humid beach with a plastic cup of cheap alcohol is absurd, and rafayel would have spent the entire night complaining about the quality of the crowd or the salt ruining his clothes. they aren't the type for this. they don't belong in a chaotic mass of college kids, and neither does he. but explaining that requires too many words, too much vulnerability.
“i have them,” he mutters, almost robotic as he steers away from the main shoreline. “they just have better things to do than stand around in the mud.”
you just chuckle, a mocking sound that follows him as he leads the way toward a darker, quieter corner of the resort. the heavy thump of the bass begins to muffle, filtered through a thick screen of tall bamboo stalks that sway lazily in the night breeze. it’s a designated smoking area, tucked away from the main pavilion. a couple of empty wooden crates serve as makeshift stools, and right now, the little pocket of shadows is completely deserted.
“then, why do you come here anyway? are you here to get some girls?” another snicker escapes past your lips.
xavier then turns around to face you, his pale chest still gleaming slightly from the alcohol you spilled on him. his diamond blue eyes narrow under the faint amber glow of a single hanging bulb.
“[name], why are you suddenly all up in my ass?” he asks, the profanity sounding almost clinical coming from his voice. “don't you have a bunch of people waiting for you? you're... better off bothering some other guy who actually wants to, like, talk to you.“
he reaches into the deep pocket of his cargo jorts, his fingers pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. you watch him, momentarily stunned, as he slides a cigarette between his lips. the small flick of the flint illuminates the curves of his face—the boyish, bunny-like slope of his nose, the long eyelashes—contrasting sharply with the way he draws in the smoke. you hadn't expected this. the quiet blockmate who sits in the front row and never raises his voice actually smokes. he feels less like a flat, boring caricature of a loner and more like a puzzle with missing pieces.
you clear your throat, tilting your head as he exhales a thin, grey stream of smoke into the humid air, his eyes tracking the cloud as it disappears into the bamboo.
“well, my friends are occupied, and it's getting kind of boring over there,” you say, taking a step closer into his small sanctuary. a teasing smile plays on your lips. “honestly, it's way more entertaining to stand here and watch you squirm. so, what's the deal then? do you always hide out in corners like this? oh, i know why—it's a trick to attract girls, no? have you ever even experienced getting hit on by a girl before?”
xavier takes another sharp drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing a fierce orange. he isn't used to this kind of attention—the piercing gaze of a girl who looks at him like he's something to be unraveled for amusement. his throat feels dry, because the truth is humiliating: almost no one approaches him, almost no one talks to him, and the few times women have looked his way, he had frozen up so badly they simply walked away, assuming he was stuck-up or broken.
“fuck off.”
xavier shifts his weight, looking anywhere but at your face after pocketing his sunshades. “i'm not that type of guy. so, just leave me alone.”
he holds the cigarette awkwardly between his fingers, the ash growing dangerously long because he’s entirely too stiff to tap it off. his knuckles are white against the paper filter, and the silence between you only stretches, punctuated by the distant muffled thump of a techno remix playing by the shore.
“you're not that type of guy?” you repeat, stepping fully into the small bamboo enclosure. “what type? the type who knows how to hold a conversation, or the type who actually knows what to do when a girl hits on him?”
xavier squeezes his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, his chest rising and falling in a shallow breath. he takes another drag of his cigarette just to give his mouth something to do, but he inhales too fast.
“ghk—!”
he chokes.
it’s a pathetic, muffled cough into his fist, his whole pale torso spasming slightly as the smoke hits the back of his throat. it makes his blue eyes instantly water, looking away immediately and cursing silently in his mind. you didn't fail to catch the way his ears were burning a hot crimson.
“i'm fine,” he swallows hard, trying to force the monotonous drone back into his vocal cords, but it comes out sounding shaky. “the wind changed.”
“there is no wind, xavier,” you cross your arms, leaning your hip against one of the bamboo stalks. “jesus, you really don't know what to do with yourself, do you? are you seriously this clueless around women?”
“i-i'm not fucking clueless,”
a normal experienced guy would laugh it off, make a smooth joke, or step into your space to push the tension back onto you. xavier does none of that. he just freezes, staring at his cargo jorts like the faded denim holds the answers to the universe. “i just... don't see the point. people are loud. you're loud.”
“i'm standing right here and talking in a normal voice,” you point out, taking a deliberate step closer. the scent of your fruity drink mixes with the bitter tobacco smoke hanging around him. “xavier, look at me when i'm talking to you.”
his eyes flick up, entirely against his will, caught off guard by the authority in your tone. up close, his features really do look like a startled bunny—wide, blinking eyes, a soft, trembling lower lip that he bites down on to keep from speaking. he looks so incredibly defenseless for someone who just told you to fuck off two minutes ago.
“...what do you want from me? i don't have anything to say to you. you're just... doing this on purpose.”
“doing what?”
“making fun of me,” xavier tightly grips his own upper arms again, his black piercings catching the light as he ducks his head. “you're just bored and you want to see how long it takes for me to look fucking stupid. go back to the beach.”
“tch—hahahaha!“
the sound of your laughter breaks the quiet of the bamboo enclosure, echoing over the distant thumping of the bass. you actually have to hold your stomach, tilting your head back because god, xavier is a riot. his reactions are better than any entertainment on the main stage! the panic vibrating off his frame makes a wicked little thrill dance in your chest. you want to toy with him until he completely snaps.
“okay, okay, look,” you say, catching your breath but keeping that mocking smile fixed on your lips. “i'll leave you alone. i’ll walk away right now, but... you have to answer just one more question for me.”
xavier watches you out of the corner of his wet, glass-pink eyes, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. he doesn't say anything, which you take as a green light.
“are you a virgin?” you ask, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “because honestly, xavier? you look and act exactly like one. oh my god, are you really a virgin?”
you expect him to choke again. you expect him to stutter, to turn away, or to give you another defensive non-answer. but instead...
“yes,” xavier shoots back instantly, his voice cracking slightly on the vowel but sharp enough to slice through the humid air. he doesn't hesitate. he stares right into your eyes, his diamond blue gaze dark and completely cornered. “i am a fucking virgin. are you happy now? is that what you wanted to hear? so go away. go find some experienced guy who actually knows what the fuck he's doing and bother him instead.”
you blink.
oh. oh.
he really is... a total virgin, huh.
you hadn't actually expected him to just lay his cards on the table like that, so exposed and utterly pathetic in his honesty. it leaves you momentarily speechless, looking at the sharp lines of his collarbone, the flushed skin of his bare chest.
but, a slow grin crawls back onto your face. you decide to press his buttons harder. “hmm. i don't believe you.”
xavier’s eyebrows knit together into a deep frown. “what the fuck do you mean you don't believe me?”
“i mean, i have to at least find out for myself, right?”
the air catches in xavier's throat, his eyes widening into pools of pure shock. he stutters, his lips moving a few times before any sound actually comes out.
“...what?” he croaks, his gaze darting frantically between your eyes and your mouth. “w-what did you just say? repeat that. i must've... i-i misheard you or something—”
“i said, i want to feel your shape, xavier.”
what the... fuck.
xavier suddenly chokes on his own saliva, a harsh, pathetic cough rattling through his chest. his hand trembles so violently that the half-smoked cigarette slips right from his fingers, tumbling into the dark sand below, its orange ember dying instantly. he doesn't even notice. his mind is entirely fried, the blue of his eyes completely wild as he stares down at you, his back pressed so hard into the bamboo that the stalks groan behind him.
“you're... you're fucking messing with me,” he breathes out, “you're really... you're really this committed to making a fool out of me, aren't you?”
you chuckle sweetly, “i'm not messing with you, xavier?”
your eyes slowly track downward, leaving his flushed face and trailing across the expanse of his shirtless torso. you're searching for something, and it doesn't take long to find it. there, nestled beneath the faded denim of his cargo jorts, is the unmistakable silhouette of a growing tent. it twitches slightly under your gaze, like a physical betrayal of how affected he actually is.
xavier notices where you're looking and his brain completely short-circuits. “i-i don't... i don't even know what you want from me, so—okay, what the fuck, what the fuck—”
his voice cuts off into an unintentional high-pitched whimper as your hand reaches out and presses directly against the apex of his tent.
“ah.. nh...”
it’s a pathetic, needy little sound that slips past his lips before he can stop it. your fingers curl slightly, deliberately playing with the stiff shape through the thick denim, testing his weight. xavier’s hand instantly fly to your shoulder, his long fingers gripping your skin tightly—not to push you away, but because his knees have suddenly gone completely weak.
you stop the movement for a second, looking up at him with a look of mock concern. “oh my, xavier... you've been hard?”
he tries desperately to catch his breath, his eyes closing tight before snapping open again. and he presses himself even harder against the groaning bamboo wall behind him, trying to swallow the hot lump in his throat.
“i-i'm a guy, okay?” he stammers out, his monotonous drone completely shattered into a defensive whine. “and... and you... you know you're really pretty, and you're—you're fucking hot, so... of course my body is going to—to—”
“how long?” you cut him off, your voice dripping with teasing authority while your thumb slowly strokes the length of his twitching bulge. “how long have you been hard for me?”
his head snaps to the side, his chin tucking into his shoulder as he desperately avoids your eyes. the deep, burning crimson has spread all the way down his neck, coloring his pale chest in splotchy, beautiful patches of sheer embarrassment. he looks so small, so incredibly tense and cute as he writhes weakly under your palm.
“s-since... fuck,” he stutters, a small, frustrated sob caught in the back of his throat as your fingers twitch against him. his eyelashes flutter rapidly, wet with panicked tears. “since like... since you started talking to me, okay? since you—i couldn't—i couldn't help it. please stop... no, don't stop, just—ah...”
the weight of him expands under your palm, hot and straining fiercely against the thick denim of his cargo jorts. you let out a soft exaggerated gasp, pulling your lips into a mockingly surprised pucker.
“oh, wow,” you murmur, your fingers spreading out to measure him through the fabric. “so you're actually pretty big, huh? look at you, xavier.”
the praise makes xavier’s head roll back against the bamboo stalk, his eyes half-lidded and glazed over with a heavy daze. the fierce crimson on his cheeks makes the blue of his eyes look blindingly bright, almost silver under the amber bulb. he looks down at you through his long lashes, lips parting as he draws in a shaky breath.
“y-you... you really think so?”
”i do,” you coo, giving him a gentle, firm squeeze that makes his hips involuntarily twitch forward into your touch. “does anybody else know how big you actually are, xavier? have you shown anyone?”
xavier frantically shakes his head no, the messy ash-blonde strands falling into his eyes. “n-no... nobody,” he stammers, “nobody else has ever... ever touched me like this. i told you, i'm—i'm a virgin.”
”poor thing,” you slowly slide your hand up and down his length, snickering under your breath.
and the moment the words poor thing leave your lips, the bulge underneath your hand twitches violently, a thick pulse that you feel right against your palm. xavier lets out a ragged hitch of his breath, his eyes snapping wide open as a jolt of pleasure shoots straight to his groin. he looks at you like a starved creature, his bottom lip trembling as he swallows hard, trying to force his tangled tongue to work.
“s-say... say that again,” he pleads, his voice cracking. his grip on your shoulder tightens, pulling you a fraction of an inch closer to his shirtless chest.
“say what?”
“th-that... what you just—just called me,” he stutters harder, his pale torso completely tense, a thin sheen of sweat making his collarbone glisten under the light. “c-call me... call me a poor thing again. please. it—it felt...”
he can't even finish the sentence, but you strangely find yourself obeying him anyway. there's something entirely intoxicating about seeing the unapproachable, sardonic block loner reduced to a shivering pathetic mess right in front of you just from a few words.
“poor thing,” you whisper sweetly, leaning in until your breath brushes against his burning ear. “such a poor, pathetic little bunny. you're so sensitive, xavier. look how worked up you are just from me touching your pants.”
”oh, f-fuck... ah...” his head slowly shakes from side to side against the bamboo wall, his entire body trembling as you continue to rhythmically palm him through the cargo jorts.
“you like being called a poor thing?” you whisper, pressing your body against his trembling frame to pin him thoroughly. “do you want to be called something else, hm? perhaps a... good boy?”
“y-yes... ah! please—” his fingers dig into the meat of your shoulders, desperate for anchor, his knuckles turning stark white. “call me—call me that... please, say it... just say it, i—i want to hear it, please...”
“no.”
the denial breaks him. and for all that he is, he fucking lets out a pathetic sob, his head thrashing from side to side against the bamboo wall. he becomes a completely unhinged, moaning, begging mess right beneath you—just a pathetic starved virgin writhing under your touch.
“please... please,” he wails softly, a breathless moan tearing from his throat as his lower lip trembles violently. “don't be mean... don't be mean to me, i'll—i'll do whatever you want... just call me it... please, tell me i'm—tell me i'm a good boy...”
seeing him reduced to such a shivering, responsive wreck is too sweet to resist. you let your hand resume its punishing pace, and lean right into his burning ear. “such a good boy, xavier. look how well you take it for me. such a sweet, good boy. like that?”
“ngh—!!”
xavier goes completely rigid.
his eyes roll back into his head, his eyelids fluttering as his entire torso spasms violently. a loud, choked-out moan tears from his chest, echoing against the bamboo as he begins to fucking cum right through the thick fabric of his cargo jorts.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fumck—”
his hips slam into your hand over and over in helpless, uncoordinated jerks. he spasms like a dying bunny, helpless to stop the overwhelming waves of friction. and because he’s a little virgin, because he has held everything in for so long, the release is incredibly violent and lasts a bit too long, his body continuously tightening and pulsing against your palm while he stutters and moans incoherently into the dark air.
“shit, xavier, it's not stopping yet?”
“f-fuck... ah, ah... n-no, it's—it's too much... hngh... please...”
slowly, the violent tremors begin to subside, leaving him slumped weakly against the bamboo, his legs visibly shaking as if they can barely support his weight. oh god, he's so fucking embarrassed.
you slowly draw your hand back, tilting your head as you inspect your palm. the front of his cargo jorts is completely ruined, a dark and sticky-wet stain soaking through the stiff denim.
xavier’s hand leave your shoulder, his fingers trembling so violently he can barely coordinate them as he slides a palm up his face, pushing his messy ash-blonde hair back from his forehead. he presses his hand over his eyes, his breathing still coming in ragged gaps that rattle his throat.
“oh fuck,” he breathes into his skin, the word muffled, trembling, and saturated with a wave of humiliation. “fuck... i didn't... i'm sorry.”
he drops his hand from his face, his diamond blue eyes looking completely wide and glossy with a pinkish rim of pure embarrassment. he looks away from you, staring desperately at the dark sand beneath his feet.
“i didn't mean to... to do that,” he mutters, though it's entirely thin and cracked at the edges. “i got... carried away. i told you it was my... my first time doing anything like this. i didn't know it would... fuck. i'm sorry for cumming too quick.”
“you really are funny,” you let out a sweet chuckle, entirely unbothered by his panic as you step back a fraction of an inch, your eyes trailing over his shivering frame. you turn around lazily, stepping toward one of the high, makeshift wooden crates tucked against the bamboo wall. with an easy grace, you hop up, sitting against the rough edge of the wood.
“well, since you ruined the mood by finishing so fast, you're going to have to make up for it.”
xavier blinks, his long eyelashes fluttering rapidly as his brain stalls out yet again. he looks at you, eyebrows knitting together into a vulnerable frown that makes him look like a lost child. “make... make up for it? what do you mean?”
“i mean exactly what i said,” you murmur, leaning back slightly against the bamboo behind you, parting your knees just enough to send a message. “it's my turn now. you need to give me something.”
xavier’s mouth parts, a breathless gasp escaping his lips. he stands looking at you like you’ve just spoken a language he has never heard before. “i... i don't know what you want. i don't have anything to give you.”
“use your hands, xavier,” you point a finger down at yourself. “put your fingers in me.”
“w-what?” he stammers, his voice cracking loudly as the splotchy red flush on his chest flares up with renewed heat. “you... want me to do what? i can't—i don't know how to do something like that. i've never—i've never touched a girl before. what if i mess it up? what if i hurt you?”
“shush,” you pat the edge of the wooden crate, tilting your chin down. “come here, don't make me repeat myself.”
he looks at you through those long eyelashes, his body frozen in place for three agonizing seconds before the invisible leash pulls him forward. his large cargo jorts swish heavily against his knees as he drags his feet through the dark sand, moving with the reluctant obedience of a stray dog that knows it's about to get scolded. he stops right between your thighs, his torso glistening with a fresh sheen of anxious sweat under the low amber light.
“i'll guide you,” you say softly, your voice dipping into that patronizing tone that treats him like the complete novice he is.
without breaking eye contact, your fingers reach down to the fly of your shorts. the metallic click of the button snapping open sounds loud in the small bamboo clearing, followed by the slow scratch of the zipper sliding down.
zzzzzip.
xavier’s gaze drops instantly, drawn down by the gravity of his own terror, and then he stares at the soft curve of your exposed lower belly. he looks so incredibly flustered, his throat working in a visible gulp. he realizes, with a sudden wave of panic, that he is about to see a girl's pussy in real life for the first time in his years of pathetic existence. not on a screen, not in a textbook, but right here, breathing and warm, under a resort light.
“hey, i told you,” he stammers out, his voice a shaky, thin thread that lacks even a fraction of his earlier sardonic bite. “i'm... i'm not going to be good at this. you're going to... you're going to hate it. don't expect anything from me.”
you don't even bother to acknowledge his miserable little disclaimer. instead, you lean forward slightly, your fingers wrapping around his trembling wrists, forcing his cold hands down until they rest against the waistband of your unbuttoned denim.
“take them off. panties, too. do it together.”
xavier lets out a faint gasp, a breathless “fuck...” slipping past his lips before he can choke it back. he looks at your hands on his wrists like you're forcing him into a crime, but his fingers instinctively curl into the fabric anyway. he’s so utterly malleable under your authority it’s almost laughable.
with hands that shake so violently they repeatedly snag against the rough denim, he begins to push the material down your hips. the fabric bunches around your upper thighs, and he moves with an agonizing slowness, as if he's terrified that any sudden movement will cause you to vanish or, worse, laugh at him again. his eyes trace the expanse of your thighs as they are slowly unveiled.
but as the dark cotton of your underwear follows the denim down to your knees, xavier’s head abruptly jerks upward. his eyes snap to your face, wide and frantic, deliberately forcing his gaze to stay glued to your eyes. he absolutely refuses to look directly there yet.
slowly, you part your thighs, the smooth skin of your legs brushing against the coarse fabric of his long jorts as you widen the space between you. “look at it, xavier,” you murmur, “look at it, and put a finger inside.”
xavier squeezes his eyes shut, his throat moving in a heavy, desperate gulp. for a second, he just stands there in the dark, his hands twitching helplessly in the air as if he’s praying for the bamboo stalks to swallow him whole. and when his eyelids finally flutter open, his gaze drops down.
he looks, staring directly into the slick, parted heat of your pussy. a wave of heat surges up his cheeks, turning his ears a bright crimson under the bulb. he looks less like a man and more like a completely overwhelmed creature that has just stumbled upon something sacred and terrifying. his lips part, a small, shaky exhale slipping past his teeth.
“it's... it's so pretty,” he whispers under his breath, the praise slipping out unfiltered, raw and thoroughly pathetic in its utter lack of cool. it’s the kind of line only an absolute virgin would utter while staring between a girl's legs.
you reach down to wrap your fingers around his trembling wrist once more. “now don't just stare at it. put a finger in.”
you guide his hand forward, his long index finger pressing hesitantly against the wet entrance of your womanhood. xavier flinches slightly at the sudden contact, his other hand flying out in a blind, clumsy reflex to grip your knee.
with a slow nudge of your hand, his finger slides past your lower lips, sinking into the tight, tight heat of your walls.
fuck. fuck, fuck.
the moment the slick warmth swallows his finger to the knuckle, xavier’s eyes widens, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat. under the damp denim of his cargo jorts, the ruined bulge of his erection twitches shamelessly, growing harder and tighter against his stomach even though he literally just came through his clothes minutes ago.
“is this right?” his finger is stiff, twitching awkwardly inside you without any real rhythm because he has absolutely no clue what he’s doing. “am i doing it okay? tell me if it hurts, or if it's–shit you're so fucking warm.”
“you're just holding it there, xavier. that's not fingering,” you mock gently, your thumb pressing down on the back of his wrist to force an upward hooking motion. “curve your finger. like this. curl it up inside me.”
“l-like this?” he croaks, his pupils completely dilated as he tries to mimic the movement. his hand is so tense the tendons are standing out along his forearm, his knuckles white where he’s gripping your knee. he hooks his finger clumsily, catching against your sensitive walls, and the sudden wet squelch of his own awkward movements makes his face burn twice as hot. “like that? are you—are you liking it?”
“i'd like it a lot more if you weren't moving like a broken thing. do it faster, and deeper. unless this is really the absolute best those clumsy fingers of yours can manage?”
“fuck... shut up,”
before you can even laugh at his little display of temper, his free hand—the one anchoring him to your knee—moves with a sudden bruising grip. his long fingers dig firmly into the soft flesh of your thigh, and with a sharp, heavy heave of his arm, xavier lifts your leg high. he hoists it all the way up onto his shoulder, forcing your thighs to splay open in a completely exposed angle.
the suddenness of the movement makes your breath hitch, your fingers instantly digging into the rough wood of the crate to keep your balance as the cool night air hits the absolute dampest, most intimate part of you. from this point, you are entirely laid bare under the amber bulb, a prize splayed out for the most pathetic pervert on campus to see.
xavier doesn't look away. now that his insecure temper has been piqued, his eyes are fixed entirely on your pussy. he leans over you, his chest casting a long shadow across your lap, the silver chain around his neck swinging like a pendulum as he repositions his hand.
“you want it faster?” he mutters, his breath hot and uneven against your neck. “fine.”
he drives his index finger back into you, burying it all the way to the base of his knuckle. a loud, squelching wet sound echoes clearly over the rustling bamboo stalks as his hand begins to piston into your heat. it’s still incredibly clumsy—his rhythm is erratic, a frantic, uncoordinated jerking motion that has absolutely no baseline experience behind it—but the force of his desperation makes up for what he lacks in technique. he's pushing into you with everything he has, his knuckle bumping repeatedly against your sensitive outer lips.
“wow,” you gasp out, a genuine shudder ripping through your frame as the friction starts to build. “look at you go. you're actually starting to get a hang of it, bunny.”
jesus, you are so goddamn wet. the sound of his own clumsy finger sloshing around inside you is so loud, so incredibly lewd, that the heavy tent underneath his cargo jorts throbs with a renewed tightness. he is so hard it physically hurts, a thick drop of pre-cum soaking further into the stained denim as he pins you down further.
the heat between your thighs is beginning to build into something thick and undeniable, like a buzzing current of pleasure that ripples right up your spine every time xavier’s clumsy finger drives home. it’s getting incredibly hard to maintain that mocking little smirk you’ve been wearing like armor. your teeth dig sharply into your bottom lip, trying to anchor the ragged gasps threatening to slip past your throat. you absolutely cannot let this isolated, virgin blockmate see that his zero-experience is actually working on you. it would be completely humiliating to lose your grip on the reins now.
you need to remind him exactly who is running this little thing.
“two,” you breathe out, your voice a little tighter, a little more strained than you intended. “put two fingers in, xavier. one isn't doing anything.”
xavier's hand freezes dead inside you, his eyes widening into flustered circles as he looks up from your wet folds.
“two?” he looks at his own hand, then back up at your parted thighs. “but... you're already so tight. i don't think they'll fit. what if i stretch you too much? what if it—”
“shut up and just do it.”
he gulps, the silver necklace clicking against his collarbone as he slowly, awkwardly wedges his middle finger right alongside his index. the sudden thick expansion against your walls makes your hips twitch involuntarily on the wooden crate. xavier doesn't even wait for you to lecture him this time; driven by a sudden, greedy curiosity, he begins to piston his hand back into your heat.
squelch.
“~ah!”
a loud genuine moan slips right past your teeth, echoing sharply against the rustling stalks above.
instead of pulling back, xavier plunges his hand deeper, driving those two fingers all the way to the hilt, his thumb bumping hard against your clit with a clumsy pressure that makes your toes curl into the air.
“more,” you whimpered, the teasing girl completely vanishing, replaced by a needy shivering mess that’s entirely at the mercy of a boy who didn't even know what a pussy looked like twenty minutes ago. “put... put three, xavier. put three in.”
“th-three?” he gasps out, his knuckles slick with your own arousal as he hovers at the entrance. “are you sure? that's—that's too much, you're already so wet and, and, i don't—”
losing the last shred of your patience, you reach down and blindly grab his wrist to yank him forward.
with a low grunt that sounds entirely unlike him, he forces his ring finger right into the tight seam of your pussy. “shit—what the fuck...”
the brutal stretch of three fingers burying themselves inside you all at once catches you completely off guard. you let out a helpless whimper, your back arching off the wooden crate as your fingers claw desperately into the rough grain of the seat.
the sloshing sound inside you is getting even more out of hand, a wet rhythmic squelch that is echoeing obscenely. and he’s doing it. the guy who looks like he’d apologize to a door if he bumped into it, is currently burying three thick fingers into your heat.
but for someone who is supposedly delivering the pleasure here, he is making an absolute fool of himself. xavier is whining. actually whining. every time he shoves his hand forward, a strained noise hitches in the back of his throat, his soft boyish features contorting into a pained, pathetic scowl as if he’s the one being subjected to some kind of beautiful torture. his forehead is pressed nearly against your hoisted knee, his chest heaving so hard the silver chain is practically rattling against his collarbone.
you let out a breathless chuckle, fingers digging into his sweat-slicked shoulder just to feel the way his skinny muscles twitch under your touch. look at him. he looks like a pathetic, cornered bunny who is entirely too greedy for his own good.
“what's the matter, xavi? do you want to say something to me?”
in response to your mocking, xavier lets out a frustrated grunt. he drives his three fingers brutally deep, all the way to the hilt until his damp knuckles press hard against your entrance, and curls them upward with a sudden hook.
”~ah! shit!”
you squirm violently on the wooden crate, your toes clawing into the dark air while your hips involuntarily rise to meet his hand.
xavier pants heavily, his blue eyes completely glazed over and dark with a drunken daze. he looks down at where his hand is buried inside you, his lips trembling as he tries to swallow the thick knot of embarrassment in his throat. “i-i don't... i'm unsure if i can say it,” he stammers out, his voice a shaky cracked whisper. “am i allowed to say it?”
you can barely even find your voice to answer him, your chest heaving as you give a wordless impatient nod. your brain is entirely too focused on the fact that his long fingers are moving way too loudly inside you.
then, without an ounce of warning, xavier leans in close, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of the pulse in your neck. the movement forces you to stretch your leg wider, higher.
“...can i eat you out?”
the whisper is so incredibly soft, so completely unpolished, that it catches you entirely off guard. your eyes widen, your heart doing a sudden flip in your chest. the absolute audacity of this virgin. he’s still actively pistoning his fingers inside you, making you stretch and leak all over his knuckles, and he has the nerve to ask that?
“say it fucking properly.” you gasp out, trying desperately to claw back your sense of control because you refuse to let him see how much the question actually rattled you. “say it like an actual guy, you dork.”
xavier blinks, trying his absolute best to shake off the thick, pleasure-drunk fog clouding his brain. he doesn't pull his hand out; instead, he uses his grip on your knee to hoist himself up, leaning over your body more until his flushed, beautiful face is bare inches from yours. his messy ash-blonde hair brushes against your forehead, his dilated blue pupils locked onto your lips.
“can i eat your pussy?”
fuck.
he says it with the most ridiculous combination of innocence and desperation. it’s a line that should sound smooth, but coming from his trembling splotchy-red lips, it just sounds like a starved creature begging for a scrap of food. and the worst part? your body absolutely eats it up.
before you can even think of a mocking comeback, a thick hot gush of white liquid sloshes out from deep inside you, sliding slowly down his fingers and over your exposed thighs. your eyes roll completely inward, a loud, shattered moan tearing from your throat as your back arches entirely off the wooden crate. you shake helplessly under his touch, your walls clamping down around his three fingers in a pulsating rhythm as you come.
fuck, how did you come this fast? he’s just a fucking loser virgin. a loner who doesn't talk to anyone. how the hell did he just reduce you to a shivering, dripping wreck with nothing but a few clumsy fingers and a pathetic question?
xavier completely cuts off your trail of thought. he slowly pulls his three fingers straight out of your heat. the sudden emptiness makes you whimper, but the movement allows a fresh wave of your sticky, white cum to spill out, dripping lazily down the skin of your seat.
his fingers are dripping with your wetness, his breath coming in short, pathetic puffs as he stares down at the mess he just made. he looks like an absolute freak, an innocent bunny who just realized he has a taste for blood, unable to believe his own eyes.
but the next words that slip past his lips completely seal his fate as a total pervert.
“guess i'll take this as a chance to lick you clean,” he looks up at you through his long eyelashes, his lower lip quivering with that same pathetic timidity. “going to eat you out now. okay?”
you’re slumped against the wooden crate, chest heaving and trying to pull oxygen into lungs that feel entirely too tight. your brain is still a scrambled mess of white noise from the climax you just handed over to a fucking virgin.
and speaking of the devil—or, well, the pathetic bunny in jorts—he’s already moving.
xavier drops heavily onto his knees, the dark sand crunching under his shins. his torso leans forward, long fingers spreading out to grip the flesh of your thighs with a sudden, possessive weight. his knuckles are still slick with your release, and his diamond blue eyes are completely wide again, staring at the pink ruined seam of your core like he’s about to perform open-heart surgery without a license.
slowly, hesitantly, xavier tilts his head. his long eyelashes flutter as he leans in, the tip of his tongue darting out to gently and awkwardly lick the excess white cum dripping from your lower lips.
he flinches at the taste, his ears turning a fresh violent shade of maroon. you can see the nervousness radiating off him; he looks up at you through his messy ash-blonde fringe, his eyes wide and seeking validation like a dog that just accidentally knocked over a vase. the contrast is hilarious. he’s the one who made the perverted request, but he has absolutely no blueprint for how to actually do it.
you open your mouth, a mocking jibe sitting right on the tip of your tongue, ready to dismantle whatever is left of his dignity—
schlick.
xavier buries his face directly into your heat, his mouth pressing clumsily against your clit.
the sudden sloppy sensation makes your head snap straight up against the bamboo wall, a sharp breath hitching violently in your throat. your fingers instantly claw into the rough wood of the crate. he is entirely uncoordinated, his nose shoving hard against your skin as his tongue licks in a frantically flat rhythm that feels more like a wet puppy.
but god, he’s enthusiastic. way too enthusiastic.
“f-fuck,” xavier mumbles against your wet folds, his voice muffled, vibrating directly against your sensitive skin. a high, pathetic whine breaks from his throat between heavy suctions. “shit... i'm getting... i'm getting so hard again.”
“xavier, stop just flat-licking me like a freak,” you gasp out, trying to regain a shred of your authority while your lower half shivers under his mouth. you reach down, your fingers tangling into the soft, damp strands of his blonde hair to guide his head. “swirl your tongue. swirl it right there on the tip. and suck... like this.”
he whimpers against your skin, his hands tightening on your thighs, bruising your skin in his effort to obey. he tries to mimic your words, his tongue swirling awkwardly, catching the sweet spot just enough to make your knees shake.
“like this?” xavier croaks, his head suddenly bobbing up from down below. his face is an absolute disaster—lips glistening with your wetness. “am i doing it good?”
“go lower,” you breathe out impatiently, your hips twitching forward. “you talk too much.”
“i-i'm sorry,” he stammers out pathetically, his boyish features crumpling into a flustered scowl before he ducks his head back down.
this time, driven by your command and his own desperate need to be a good boy, xavier opens his mouth wide. he presses his lips flat against your opening and drives his tongue straight inside you. deep.
squelch.
the wet intrusion stretches you all over again, his tongue pushing into the slick path his fingers had carved out. it’s heavy, hot, and completely unpolished, but the sheer force of him burying his face into your pussy makes your entire world tilt. you fist your fingers deeper into the strands of his ash-blonde hair, the soft texture slipping between your knuckles as you use your grip to ruthlessly guide his head. you push him down, forcing his face entirely into your aching thing.
xavier lets out a muffled whimper right against your wet folds, his lips vibrating against your clit as he tries to draw in air. a tangled chain of choked curses—fuck, please, shit—bleeds directly into your skin, swallowed up by the sloshing wetness he's created. but he doesn't pull away. the absolute pervert doesn't even try to fight you. instead, his fingers slide up your skin, his nails digging ruthlessly into the soft meat of your outer thighs until they leave angry crescent marks that bloom into a fierce crimson.
you really thought you could just toy with the loser and walk away unscathed, didn't you? look at you now, pinning a shirtless, twitching virgin to your lap in a deserted smoking area while a bassline thumps half a mile away.
the worst part is, the loser is actually a fast learner. his tongue stops the clumsy licking and starts to focus, his instincts adapting with a greedy terrifying speed. he swirls his tongue with an erratic friction right over your most sensitive knot of nerves, combining it with a suction that makes your pelvis lift completely off the wooden crate. then, a tight knot begins to coil deep in your lower belly, tightening with every sloppy degrading lap of his tongue.
suddenly, his large hands slide under your knees. he yanks your thighs inward with a bruising force, pulling you so close that your face is nearly level with the top of his head.
“x-xavier—ngh!”
the sudden change in angle forces a shattered whimper from your throat, your legs trembling helplessly up in the air—and xavier takes absolute advantage of your exposure.
he buries his face much deeper, driving his nose hard against your pelvic bone as he begins to eat you out with a violently frantic hunger. his tongue pistons straight inside your opening before curling up to swipe your clit in a messy relentless pattern.
it feels so good it’s sickening. your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling his scalp so hard your knuckles go white, but he just whines and sucks harder, completely drunk on the taste of you. the knot in your belly snaps.
“sh-shit, xavier—wait, wait-!”
too late, your words are completely drowned out by a sudden violent spasm that rips through your entire lower half. your walls clamp down like a vice, and before your brain can even process the sensation, a thick hot gush of clear fluid erupts from deep inside you.
you're squirting.
you're violently squirting right into his face, the hot liquid spraying across his nose, his lips, and flooding his mouth all at once. “shit—fffunmck!” xavier lets out a muffled, terrified squeak, his eyes flying wide open in shock as he’s suddenly drowning in your release. he tries to jerk his head back, but your hands are still buried deep in his ash-blonde hair, ruthlessly holding his face down just to pin him to the source of your climax while you shake and sob under his mouth.
the spray of your release slowly tapers off into a quiet drip, leaving the bamboo enclosure thick with the heavy scent of cum and salt. your fingers finally loosen their white-knuckled grip on his hair.
the moment he’s freed, xavier pulls his face away with a gasp. his mouth is parted, his lower lip trembling as your second climax literally drips down the boyish slope of his chin, glistening under the low light. shit, he looks so fucking cute like that—like a completely corrupted and overwhelmed bunny who doesn't know whether to run away or bite.
he stays on his knees for a second, looking up at you from the sand with an anticipated expression.
“did you... did you really just... twice? you came... twice? from my... from my fingers and... and my tongue?”
you click your tongue. “don't be so full of yourself.”
he slowly stands up, his long legs noticeably shaky beneath his cargo jorts, which are still heavily stained and ruined from his own embarrassing mishap earlier. “shit,” he mutters under his breath, turning his head away. “shit... fuck...”
you let out a small chuckle, finally lowering your trembling legs from the wooden crate and letting your feet sink back into the cool sand. “you actually kind of did a good job, bunny,”
xavier’s head snaps back to you, his eyes wide. “you really think so?”
you nod, sitting up a little straighter against the makeshift high chair, adjusting your messy hair. “yeah. look at you. you can actually go save this for the next time you need it, you know? consider yourself graduated. you basically have experience now.”
it's kind of hilarious how desperately you're trying to regain control when your thighs are literally vibrating.
xavier stays dead-silent for a beat. he reaches up with the back of his hand, aggressively wiping the wetness from his lips and face. “yeah... maybe. yeah. that... that makes sense.”
he blinks, his eyes tracking your movements. “wait. where are you going?”
you tilt your head, reaching down to grab the waistband of your underwear and shorts, casually pulling them back up over your sticky thighs and into place. “i'm going back to my friends. they must be looking for us—well, for me—already.”
“what?” he croaks out, taking a clumsy step toward you. “why? where—aren't you going to stay?”
“and do what? stand in the dark with a guy who ruined his own pants in two minutes?” you shoot back, letting out a sharp laugh as you swing your legs off the crate and stand up.
but the moment your feet hit the sand, your knees completely buckle. wow. your legs feel like absolute, wobbly jelly, a direct consequence of his three-fingered pistoning. you stumble slightly, taking one awkward small step toward the exit of the bamboo clearing.
“hey, you can't just—i mean, you're the one who came in here and started—”
he suddenly cuts himself off.
before you can even take another step, a pair of pale hands lunges forward from the dark. xavier grabs your upper arms with a suddenly startling grip, and with a frustrated grunt, he pushes you harshly back against the makeshift high chair.
thud.
the rough wood bites into your lower back again as you slam into it, your eyes widening in complete shock and pain. that caught you so thoroughly off guard you actually couldn't say a single word, your breath trapped in your throat as you stare up at him. xavier is standing right between your legs again, his shirtless chest heaving, his face bare inches from yours.
sensing your stunned silence, the pathetic loser instantly panics.
“i—i'm sorry,” xavier stammers out. his scowl is deep, pained, fighting his own greedy instincts. “i didn't mean to—to push you like that. i just... i really want you to stay. and... uh... shit. fuck it.”
he swallows hard, his lower lip quivering as his gaze drops down to your covered lap.
”i really want to fuck you. right here.”
you stare at him, stunned. did he just...? did you hear him right?
he swallows again, licking his lips. “i... i really want to pound my dick inside you until you see stars.”
“what the fuck?”
“sorry,” he blurts out immediately, his voice cracking as the realization of his own sudden aggression catches up to his fried brain. “i don't... i don't know where that suddenly came from.”
you stare up at him, your chest heaving as the initial shock wears off. a slow little smile pulls at the corners of your lips, the absolute thrill of having this untouchable outcast completely at your mercy giving you back your teeth. “is that what you really want, xavier? you want to fuck me right here in the dirt?”
xavier lets out a long ragged breath, his forehead dropping down to press heavily against yours. his eyes squeeze shut, his long eyelashes wet with a fine sheen of panicked tears as his hands blindly rush down to the waistband of your shorts. “yes,” he whimpers, his fingers clumsily fumbling with the button and zipper all over again with a frantic speed. “yes, fuck... please...”
before you can even utter another mocking remark about his lack of technique, xavier grips your hips and shoves you fully down against the flat wooden surface of the makeshift high chair. with a sudden heave of his arms, he hoists your legs right back up into the air, pinning them wide apart on his shoulders.
“xavier... wait...” but he doesn't give you much time to adjust.
with a low, shaking curse—”fuck, fuck, it hurts so much”—his fingers dive into the front of his cargo jorts. he yanks the fabric down just enough to finally set his dick free. it springs out, thick, violently throbbing, and heavily glistening with the messy cum that had been soaking through his clothes the entire time.
he doesn't even know how to line himself up properly. he blindly presses the tip against your lower lips, and with one uncoordinated thrust of his hips, xavier slides right into your tight heat.
“ahhhhh, fuck!~”
a loud moan tears from his throat, a messy, echoing symphony of pathetic noises that reverberates through the vicinity. his entire body goes completely rigid the second your tight walls swallow him, his eyes rolling back as he immediately begins to thrust, his movements erratic, frantic, and entirely devoid of any seasoned rhythm.
your hands fly out to grip the edges of the wood, your head snapping back as a sharp gasp cuts through your throat. “x-xavier—wait, shit, you're so thick...” you can feel the heavy weight of his shaft still crowding against your outer lips. “a-are you... are you even fully in?”
xavier lets out a pathetic sob, his chest heaving violently against yours as he hitches your legs even higher on his shoulders.
“n-no... it's not all the way in,” he gives a short, shallow twitch of his hips, his knuckles turning white where they’re anchoring into your thighs. “if i... if i push it all the way in, i'm going to—i'm going to fucking pound you until i cum. it's too tight. you're so fucking hot—”
“then do it, pound me until you cum. show me what you've got.”
the directive completely snaps the last thread of his sanity.
grunting, xavier leans all the way down, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he slams his hips forward with everything he has. he presses himself all the way in, burying his entire length into your pussy until you could feel the fucking tip hit you at the spot. “xav—shit!”
xavier turns into a completely unhinged moaning mess above you, trembling violently as he begins to frantically drive himself back and forth into your wetness. he is ridiculously tearing up, actual drops of sweat and panicked moisture spilling from his eyes onto your skin as his hips hit you with a sloppy, uncoordinated force.
slap. slap. squelch.
“f-fuck... yes, like that... look how well you take my dick,” he whimpers into your ear, his tongue darting out to blindly lick your jaw in a messy, wet display of affection. “you're taking all of it... you're stretching around me so good... shit, shit, this is all i've ever wanted. this is fucking it...”
he hooks his arms under your knees, lifting your legs even higher and spreading them brutally wide apart until your thighs are pressed nearly flat against his ribs. the angle is completely unshielded, forcing your womanhood to open up to its absolute limit as he drives back into you.
slap! slap! squelch!
he isn't moving with that hesitant, stuttering rhythm anymore. xavier has completely lost his mind to the friction, his hips slamming into you faster, harder, until the rough wood of the makeshift chair groans beneath your weight. he is an absolutely unhinged mess above you, his torso slick with a heavy sheet of sweat that glitters under the amber bulb. tears slide down his flushed cheeks, dripping directly onto your chest, but he doesn't care. he just allows himself to pound into your tight heat like a fucking machine.
it's so intense, so fiercely deep, that it catches you completely off guard. for a second, it’s like he isn't even a virgin anymore; he’s a starved pervert who has suddenly found the exact cadence to tear you apart. your fingers claw into his shoulders, your toes curling in the air as you try to hold back your noises, biting your lip until it hurts.
but xavier notices.
with a grunt, he leans down and bites hard on the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder. the sharp sting of his teeth forces a high-pitched yelp right out of you, your hips involuntarily bucking upward into his heavy groin.
“d-don't... don't hide it,” he pants heavily into your skin, pulling back just enough to drive himself all the way to the hilt again. “let me hear you... fuck, you're so tight, your pussy is clamping down on me so hard... it's wrapping around my dick...”
his hips keep hammering into you, a relentless punishing pace that turns your insides into pure mush.
plap! plap! plap!
“give me everything,“ xavier whispers, a frantic sob catching in his throat. “give me everything... give me everything... give me it... give me you...”
his voice begins to fade, squeezing into a tight, strained wheeze as the overwhelming friction starts to drag him toward the edge. his movements grow shorter, more violent, his hips twitching in tight desperate jerks while he buries his face back into the crook of your neck.
“just like that... fuck, yeah, just like that... just like that...”
he is fucking you silly, driving into your tight heat with a relentless speed that turns the small bamboo corner into a blur of heavily wet impacts. the sheer, unbridled force of his hips slamming against yours makes both of you practically see stars, your eyes rolling back as the muffled bass from the beach party fades into absolute white noise.
“f-fuck... ~ah, ah!~” xavier wails directly into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin while his pace hits a punishing peak.
suddenly, his fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising grip, his toes clawing into the dark sand below. with a loud, choked-out sob, he drives himself all the way to the absolute hilt, spasming, his thick length hitting your womb repetitively.
and just like that, he comes thoroughly deep inside you, a massive release that pulses hard against your walls over and over again. your chest heaves, a shattered breathless moan tearing from your throat as you take the full brunt of his climax. shit, that felt so goddamn good.
for a long minute, the only sound in the enclosure is the ragged overlapping pattern of your breathing. xavier stays slumped against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, his chest heaving like a runner at the end of a marathon.
and then slowly, with a trembling grunt, he makes an effort to pull himself out. the sudden separation makes you let out a soft, aching whimper. as his thick shaft slips free, it reveals a glistening strain of liquids from the both of you—a messy, thick combination of your squirt and his hot release—that instantly gushes out, dripping down the dark wood of the makeshift high chair and splashing lazily onto the dark sand below.
xavier stares down at the mess between your legs, his mouth parted.
“fuck,” he curses under his breath, pushing his damp blonde hair back. “what the fuck... it... it really did happen. oh god.”
you let out an exhausted groan, bracing your elbows against the rough wood to painfully sit back up. your legs are still trembling, completely numb from the weight of his pace. you look straight into xavier’s eyes.
“are you... are you really even a virgin, xavier?” you pant, your voice dripping with a mix of genuine disbelief and lingering malice. “what the hell was that? you didn't move like one at all at the end.”
xavier flinches slightly at your words, his long eyelashes fluttering rapidly as he looks away.
“y-yeah, i told you, i am,” he looks down at his ruined, stained cargo jorts, his bottom lip quivering slightly before he forces himself to look back up at you. “i just... i didn't know what suddenly came over me. i just... felt like... fucking you like that. because you were being so mean.”
“well,” you breathe out, your voice still a little raspy from the screaming he forced out of you. you reach down, slowly dragging your underwear and denim shorts back up your thighs, the fabric sticking slightly against your skin. “that was... definitely something, xavier. guess you don't need to practice on your pillows anymore.”
the mocking barb is meant to give you your armor back, but xavier doesn't snap back with his usual cold defensive drone. instead, he just lets out a small breathless huff, his lower lip twitching into a tiny, pathetic line that looks almost like a sulk.
“shut up,” he mutters, the curse completely devoid of any real heat. he reaches down to awkwardly pull up the waist of his jorts, his long, pale fingers still trembling so hard he can barely button them. “don't... don't say it like that.”
you hop down from the wooden surface, your feet sinking into the cool sand. your knees give a dangerous, wobbly shake the second they take your weight, and you have to blindly reach out and plant a hand against his bare shoulder to keep from dropping right back down. xavier instantly freezes under your touch but he doesn't pull away. his large hand instinctively hovers near your waist, ready to catch you if you trip.
“wow, still such a helpful little bunny.”
xavier swallows hard, “are you... are you really going back to the resort?” he asks, his voice dropping into that small, needy whisper again. “right now?”
“i have to,” you murmur, finally pulling your hand off his shoulder and stepping past him toward the narrow exit of the bamboo stalks. “my friends are probably wondering if i fell into the ocean. and you need to go wash those pants before someone thinks you spilled a whole drink on yourself.”
he lets out a faint, flustered groan behind you, but he doesn't try to stop you this time.
as you take a step out into the open air, the loud throbbing bass of the beach party hits you full force, a stark contrast to the mess you’re leaving behind. you pause for just a second, tilting your head back over your shoulder to look at him one last time. xavier is still standing in the shadow of the bamboo, looking like an absolute freak—completely disheveled, beautifully flushed, and entirely ruined for any other girl on campus.
summary ♡ losing your job takes a serious toll on you and when your roommate’s "co-worker" isn't able to make it for a stream, an unforeseen idea sparks
content ♡ camboy&roommate!valko/reader, livestreamed sex, oral(fem!receiving), p in v (obvi lolll), he calls you pup bc why not
wc ♡ 4.7K (WOWOWOWOW)
a/n ♡ SURPRISEEEE!!! this may not be good, not too much
Trying to find a job was hard.
Trying to find a job while also being unemployed was even harder.
But you swore not to be too hard on yourself when you knew well in your heart that you were trying your best. Doing such a thing served you no justice and only made what was already a stressful experience, even more difficult.
No one anticipates being grouped into their company’s massive layoff, not when they swore that they had been a good little sheep in the communism hamster wheel of meetings, late night projects, and stacks of paperwork. Though with luck almost as bad as a cursed cartoon character, of course life would play out in a way that delivers you such heavy-hearted misfortune.
So, as you step into your apartment, trying your hardest not to breakdown after another shitty interview and realizing that you’ve officially been jobless for nearly five months now, all you can think of is some good food and your bed that you plan to rot in indefinitely.
“You look exhausted,” Valko says to you from where he lounges on the couch. “Another bad day?”
You’ve been disassociating so much the last few weeks that you actually tended to forget that you cohabitated with another person. Rather than being able to sulk in your feelings and waste away from the never-ending disappointment, your roommate wasn’t exactly the kind of man to let you if he had any say.
When you decided to share a space with one of your closest friends, especially one with a personality as out there as his, you figured it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Although it took you a few days to consider his offer, eventually you knew that the benefits were far too great and as time progressed, it proved to be a dynamic going strong for the last three years.
Where you kept to yourself and avoided the unnecessary, he was quick to speak up and make his voice heard. Truly, it was perfect.
You just never anticipated being the one who would be forced to hear it the more your frustrations and grievances became harder to mask.
You kick off your shoes and remove your cardigan in silence, intentionally ignoring him and focusing on whatever commercial that had put a pause to the media he was streaming.
“Am I asking for trouble if I say anything else?” he adds as you plop yourself down on the couch next to him and take a piece of beef jerky from the bag he’s nearly finished with.
“You're so greedy.” He raises a brow and tilts his head with confusion like a lost puppy at your comment.
“You do know that you’re the one eating my snack, don’t you?”
“I thought you didn’t mind sharing with me.”
“I don’t mind. Not at all.” He pauses his wildlife documentary, clearly ready to keep the conversation going and for all of his attention to stay on you. “But you’re the one raiding my stash and calling me names. Then you don’t even say hi. Do I mean nothing to you?”
“You just got this bag this morning and it’s already pretty much gone, dude,” you chuckle. “Greedy, dramatic, and sensitive.”
“You’re pivoting, you know? Not very good at being subtle about it either.”
You didn’t want to talk about it. You really, really didn’t.
You didn’t want to explain what he clearly already knew and didn’t feel like hearing the same reassuring words that weren’t doing anything to ease your constantly racing mind.
Valko leans over and snags the practically empty bag from you and tosses it somewhere out of your reach.
“What the hell is your problem—”
“You’re trying to shut me out again and I’m not letting you do that.”
“Does it kill you to not overstep?”
“That was so damn cheap.”
“How about add nosy to the list while we’re at it.”
“Concerned is more like it,” he corrects. “Why are you pushing yourself so hard when I told you to ease up? You do know that besides being your roommate, I am your friend. And friends don’t let their friends do and experience shit alone. You’re not doing this by yourself and I wish you stopped acting like you are.”
Already, you want to cry. Again.
The tears burn behind your glassy eyes and the uncomfortable tingle in your jaw makes it tick with the urge to let the waterworks flow freely.
Ever since you’ve been trekking through these unexpected hardships, Valko has been covering everything. Rent, groceries, utilities—the whole nine yards. He made you promise to not dip into your savings or to overwork yourself to try compensating for anything he wasn’t expecting of you.
What should’ve been relief had been a nightmare for you ever since.
You’ve always been able to have his back in some way, always have been able to be a dependable counterpart in your two-party pack. But ever since you lost your job, you’ve had to lean on him 100% and never have you ever felt so helpless.
Sure, his job does pay well. Very well, in fact. So much so that necessities and wants for both you and him were expenses he had no qualms about paying.
When he suddenly told you that he planned on seeing what it was like to be a camboy a few years back simply because he had the face and body for it, to say you were stunned was an understatement. At the time, he quite literally said one of his biggest reasons for contemplating such an idea was because he was “bored”. You weren’t one to discourage him if he had the confidence for it either.
Valko’s always been one to try his hand at something if he figured he’d be good at it. Combine that with his carefree-like approach to almost anything he sets his mind to, it shouldn’t be shocking that not only was he right in his assumptions of anticipated success, but he practically became one of the best known in the business what felt like overnight.
Working independently, it wasn’t long before agencies were reaching out and established workers wanted to work with him. Playing his cards right, he chose to remain solo, but when he partnered with the right people and produced the content the fans were begging for, his popularity and finances boosted exceptionally in record time.
To some extent, it’s been a rollercoaster for the both of you. He had to adjust to the recognition and demand while you had to do the same with all the things that could possibly come with the territory of having one of your closest friends be both your living partner and someone who has sex with others on camera.
You felt guilty for your lack of contribution irregardless of the reassurance he gave you and with the sincere look on his face, you were almost certain he could see it.
“We’ve already talked about this, Val.”
“So why does it seem like you still don’t get it?” He sighs, placing his hand on your head and making you turn it to face him instead of the coffee table like you’ve been doing this whole time. “It’s pretty bogus, if you ask me.”
He raises an eyebrow when you sit there silently with such a defiant expression, chuckling at the pouty lips and blank stare.
“Because you don’t get it. You’re not in my position, how could you even?”
“I don’t have to be. I know which one I’m in and I told you what it’s gonna look like until something changes. Nobody’s rushing you around here but you. Funnily enough, you’re the one that doesn’t see that.”
“Oh, you’re sooo inspirational,” you comment sarcastically as you drag out your words. You go to remove his hand from you. Ignoring the truth in his words helps you cope. “Let’s get this one a talk show.”
But he doesn’t let you discard his touch so easily, hand slipping down to the back of your neck to evade your move. He sees the way you tense as much as he can feel it, smiling to himself when your eyes widen and your lips press together.
“Nervous, huh?” Valko’s thumb swipes across your nape gently. “It’s always so easy to mess with you.”
He’s a friend. He’s always been a flirt. Don’t read too much into it.
“You’re so annoying. Get off me.”
“You think just because you’re wallowing in your emotions that I’d let you off easy?”
“Off,” you repeat, trying to shrug him away, but to no avail. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work anyways? Isn’t that guy coming by? Caleb or whatever?”
Valko raises his arms in amused defeat as he follows your stern order. “He cancelled today. Had something come up. I was gonna tell you later.”
Then that meant… “What about the stream you have to do today?”
“I’m still doing it, just by myself. Probably won’t be as fun for everyone since he can’t make it, but I’m nothing if not resourceful.”
If they were truly present in your head, certainly the both of you would’ve been capable of hearing the gears turning.
You stay with the egregious thought for a minute—a long minute, actually.
Valko, a popular and overly loved camboy with copious amounts of supporters. A job where he makes and earns money in real time. Thousands of fans in one stream surely has to equal the same in revenue, at least somewhat.
You don’t have a job.
You need something to not feel so awful.
It’s quick and relatively harmless.
But this is your friend. This will change the dynamic drastically—forever. Maybe he could handle it, it’s just work to him after all. Another day in the “office”. But could you? Do you want to add more turmoil to your already raging flame?
“Can I...” You stop yourself.
Should you really be asking this? Are you ready for something so extreme and sudden? But the opportunity is sitting in your face and begging to be taken.
“Can you what? Don’t give up, I believe in you,” he jests, leaning into you slowly and close to nudging you with his shoulder.
You push him away immediately and ignore his exaggerated look of betrayal. “Could you be serious?”
“If you could finish your sentence, I can think about trying.”
Rolling your eyes and huffing out a shaky breath that he hears too clearly, you muster up the courage. Or whatever this kind of audacity is.
“What if… what if I take his… place?”
The room falls silent. Too silent. For a second, you think you might’ve actually stopped his heart.
“… What the fuck.”
Not what you were hoping to hear, but it’s a fair reaction nonetheless.
“We don’t have to show my face,” you urge. “I don’t want to show it at all, actually. Just hear me—”
“Are you insane? Absolutely not.”
He doesn’t get to shut you down like this. Maybe it’s the adrenaline coming from what you’re genuinely considering or the desire to make some kind of progress in something that’s been so dormant, but if he would just work with you.
“I’ve been feeling like shit for months, Valko!” He freezes at your voice raised so suddenly, gaze flickering between your clenched fists and avoidant eyes. “Maybe it’s just desperation. Maybe this is so irresponsible of me and… and m-maybe I’ll regret it in the future. But I can’t keep sitting here and failing, okay?”
“How many times do I have to tell you—”
Your head shakes immediately to swat away what’s supposed to be uplifting if you’d let him finish.
“I trust you. I trust you get where I’m coming from and why I’m trying to do this.” You move closer to him, trying not to let it sting when he watches you warily like you’re not in your right mind. “If you don’t want to do it with me, I rather you just say that. But… but I can do it. If you let me, Val, I can show you. Please.”
He tries to ignore the way his dick twitches from the softness that claims your tone. His sweatpants feel like they've suddenly shrunk three sizes and are suffocating him. But the way you cling to him, how you beg…
“I don’t want to take advantage of you being in such a vulnerable place, pup. That’s not my style.”
“You aren’t if I’m asking for it. I want… I want to feel like I’m doing something—that I’m helping and that I believe it in my own terms.”
His features soften. He’s always given you everything you wanted. How could he deny you when you come to him like this? Even with his concerns, he can’t ignore the temptation.
“… Nothing’s gonna change about us? You won’t run when it’s done?”
Your head moves side to side, decision firm and resolute. “I promise not to.”
It’s been hours since you had that conversation and only now were your nerves trying to get the best of you when the act itself was this close to happening.
Seeing Valko live and in his element was different from watching behind a screen in secret. Of course you watched him from time to time, it wasn’t abnormal to be curious. How could one not be?
Were you proud to say that you’ve seen your friend’s cock? Or that you’ve seen what he looks like when his strong thighs are covered in his cum? Or how he sounds when he edges himself for over an hour? No, not really. But you’d be lying if you said you regretted seeing or enjoying it.
The minute he started, having you sit beside him and out of view until it came time to do what the both of you were there for, his stream was flooded with donations, comments, and viewers, instantly.
It almost made you nauseous, seeing the number of watchers jump from 0 to 20, 500, then surpassing the thousands faster than you could blink. He gave them that flirtatious banter and cocky energy effortlessly, teasing a few supporters and playfully reprimanding others for their smutty dialogue.
This was easy for him, at least it had become so with time, and it forced you to observe with admiration.
He didn’t even have to do anything different outside of who he is naturally, simply sitting at his desk and staying dressed in the same comfortable attire you found him in after coming home.
There was something about Valko that you could never put your finger on, and that amplified as you paid close attention to the way he interacts with the people who love him and his body.
valsbabydoll: isn’t caleb supposed to be here today??
locawerewolf: can we get to itttt
valkosprincess: he’s so sexy, i’m dripping
“Don’t be mad at me,” he smirks, eyeing the way they urge him to reveal what he’s been holding onto. “But Caleb couldn’t make it tonight.”
You can already sense the kind of reaction he’ll get for telling them something so disappointing when their expectations were so high, but he continues with confidence. Whether it’s in you or him, you can’t tell.
“I’ve got something else you might like. Someone I know I will.”
Valko looks your way and throws you a reassuring wink, tilting his head for you to stand and come to him. Was it wise to read into his words or was all of this “on the clock”?
The camera’s been angled in a way that only shows your body from the chest down, keeping it safely away from revealing your face. Your body is completely covered in goosebumps, and the jitters are buzzing from your fingertips all the way to your toes.
Turning in his chair, he looks in your direction and caresses you from your ass to the back of your thighs. “Pretty, isn’t she?”
It takes everything to not let your knees give out as he feels on you so tenderly, switching from grabbing the flesh of your ass through your shorts to tracing his fingers dangerously close in between your legs.
“We’ll both do good for you tonight, so make sure you let her know how much you appreciate it.” His hand slips up your tank top from the side, making him grin when you twitch. “I think it’s about time we got started."
“When I’m touching you, you focus on me. They’re paying you to feel good, remember that.”
That’s what you try to keep in mind when Valko’s lips connect to the exposed part of your stomach. It’s what he told you after you reassured him for what felt like the hundredth time that you were not changing your mind. Besides safe words and mutual understandings set, he needed you to feel good. He needed you to have fun and he would put in all the effort necessary to ensure that outcome.
So instead of trying to see what his fans think of you, your body, and unexpected appearance, you fixate upon the warmth of his tongue as he leaves sloppy open-mouth kisses on your tummy and the strong arm he keeps wrapped around you so that you can’t slip away from him. You find your back arching the slightest into his affection the more he gives it and that alone was already surreal because of how natural it felt.
Your fingers cling to the soft strands on his head, running them through his scalp as stimulation for his own satisfaction and as a way to keep you grounded. All you have is the dimmed off-white light coming from his computer monitors and the lamp he has lit to see how he almost loses himself in catering to your torso alone. With you being so reactive to how he nips at your soft spots to make you whine and hiss with pleasure, he could see himself staying there for a very long time.
“Val… p-please” you whisper through a gentle moan when he hums against you in acknowledgment to the sounds you make in response the sensations.
“Don’t be impatient.” It’s ironic for him to taunt you this way when he says that with his sentence muffled since he won’t pull away. “Savoring my treats is what I do.”
He goes for your bottoms next, hooking his thumbs into them and slowly tugging them down whilst seemingly trying to leave an imprint of his lips on your skin.
deepspace4val ~ Donated 300 Chocos - take them off. panties too
The automated voice reading out the note attached to the gift makes Valko laugh and sends vibrations through you.
“Everyone’s just as eager as I am.” He looks into your lust-filled eyes, searching for approval and making a silent promise. Your quick and little nod is what he needs before pulling them down your legs completely and following them to the floor as he removes himself from the chair and falls to his knees.
He has your leg hooked over his shoulder fast, burying his entire face in your pussy as if he’ll die now if he doesn’t inhale you deeply from the source. You have to regain focus quickly and brace your palms to his broad shoulders as he pulls a hearty cry of pleasure from your unexplored depths.
The sounds of him licking and sucking you in such a place, feeling him groan and lap you up as if he’s been stranded in a desert—right here and right now, he owned you.
Donations were coming in waves as you looked out the corner of your eye through hazy vision. Watching your friend taste you like this for thousands to see… you wanted more. The way his jaw moved and how the muscle in it jumped the harder he worked to consume you was intoxicatingly addictive.
“I’m gonna… w-wait. Hold on…!” You try warning him, but your pitched cries and nails digging into his skin is his reason.
Valko sucks your clit into his mouth the more you squirm, focusing all his attention on the swollen bud that pulses against his tongue as his mouth is flooded with your sweetness. He then widens and flattens the muscle along the slit of your puffy cunt, forcing you to nearly hunch over from the dizziness of his overwhelming gluttony.
You can’t utter another word when the tip of his tongue slips into your quivering hole. That and his nose nudging against you is what has the expert holding you by the ass to keep you rooted on his greedy mouth that sucks you dry when your orgasm confiscates all your senses.
You’ve never wailed from such a thing this loud in your life—ever.
“Even better than I expected.” You can’t tell if the glow on his face is from your slick or the fact that he’s thriving off your essence. It’s like he’s almost in disbelief himself. “Fuck, I’m so hard.”
imcumming77 ~ Donated 500 Chocos - fuck her already, i can’t last long
0rgasmsRlife ~ Donated 450 Chocos - i wanna see her tits
“What a coincidence. So do I.” Even breathless and covered in you, he’s still so cheeky.
He presses another kiss to his new favorite place, leaving a trail as he begins to stand. Your shirt rises with him until it’s off completely and a nipple is claimed by him immediately.
“Ah—Hold… Mmph, Valko, that’s s-so…” You’re incoherent now and leaving you speechless has become his guilty pleasure.
His cock brushes up against you and you feel just how much he’s been holding back. Taking his time to tend to you, to relax your mind and body to be ready for both him and this experience, you realize now you could never repay him for something of this magnitude. But, you’d be a liar to say you’d never try.
With newfound boldness, you snake a hand past his elastic waistband and into his pants. As soon as your hand wraps around his cock, you give all the attention to his leaking tip that now creates the same mess in your palm as it’s done all over him.
“Trying to kill me?” he rasps, nose buried in your neck as if your scent will keep him from truly collapsing. “Goddamn, y-you… shit, that's good..”
You look at the screen again and this time he does the same to see what everyone else does. His cum just barely seeps through his pants and the motion of your hand taking care of him underneath sends shivers down his spine.
Your tits glisten with his saliva and having your naked body on display for so many to see yet it only being for him to touch and feel is a reality he can’t quite believe, but he yearns to stay there.
“Not like this.” Although they can’t see your face, it’s clear to everyone when he claims your lips. The taste of yourself flooding your senses and his eagerness to make you savor both it and him, were dizzying. His teeth tugging on them and licking away the dull ache until he pulled away only left you craving more.
Valko takes your hand, bringing you close as he sits in the same chair that he was before everything began. His cock stands tall, thick, and completely flushed in the prettiest pink. He strokes himself a few times while his other hand fondles one of your tits, then flicks a nipple with his thumb while teasing his slit with his other. Only when precum beads and slowly falls down the side of his length does he guide you to stand in between his legs.
“Ready when you are.” Sitting back and waiting for you to make the next move, Valko leaves the ball in your court.
His hands know what to do as you climb into his lap with no hesitation. He looks over your shoulder to see how erotic it truly is and if he were a viewer, he could see himself going bankrupt if it allowed him to witness you spread out with a dick primed and ready to slide into you.
“H-help me,” you plead shakily, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him with an unrelenting embrace. He kisses your shoulder and runs a hand down your back almost lovingly.
“Lift your hips,” he murmurs, placing a kiss below your ear.
The donations were still coming is droves as he grabs his cock and lines it up with your dripping entrance. Valko teases everyone including himself, pushing pass your pussy lips but not fully sinking into your warmth. Rather than continuing to wait impatiently, you work your body to meet him and guide yourself down with an unspoken eagerness.
“That’s it, pup,” he coos, teeth gritting the more your pussy swallows him inside and shapes around his dick to the hilt. “Let them see you take it in good since you can’t wait. Easy… there you go, you’ve got it.”
Your uneven breath fans against his ear and your cunt clenches around him over and over like an unforgiving vice. He takes the lead for you now, his large hands grabbing you by the hips then snaking down to the underside of your thighs.
The first stroke was capable of turning him into a pussy drunk fool. Thousands watch how your juices coat his cock and his cum being dragged down to form a creamy ring at his base.
“More,” you mewl. “Keep—nngh, g-going, Val…”
He couldn’t give a damn about who was watching at that point. In fact, he couldn’t say that he ever did after you graced him with a chance to have you like this.
You’ve always been on his radar yet something he considered untouchable. He respects you, values the things that you say, do, and think. Rejection wasn’t what deterred him from trying but the potential for you to demand any kind of separation, did.
Now that he’s had a taste, good luck trying to act like he’ll never want it again.
Valko grabbed you as securely as he could before he began drilling into you from beneath, his heavy balls slapping against you every time you sunk all the way down. Every viewer was bound to be staring at how you fucked yourself on him and attentively listened to the sounds of both of your ragged breaths and desperate yet filthy panting.
“So damn tight,” he praises, licking the outer shell of your ear and grabbing you harder with promises of marks that you’ll undoubtedly be embarrassed to look at once your high subsides. You were ridiculously soaked for him, and it just wouldn’t stop. Obscene squelches and constantly meeting skin slickened with sweat echoing in his bedroom was enough to prove the heights of your arousal if the visual alone wasn’t enough.
daydreaminlongevity ~ Donated 1000 Chocos - cum in her. don’t waste it
“It’s okay.” Your pussy tightens around him again with anticipation. “I want it… I can take it.”
He brings you in closer as he feels his orgasm coming quicker than he expected it to. His muscles bulge when he envelops you in his embrace, keeping the same breath-stealing momentum as your voice and body shakes uncontrollably from his lack of control.
All it takes is four more deep thrusts before you’re collapsing onto him from exhaustion and feeling the rush of his cum spill into you. You’re held down so that as much as possible stays inside your sensitive cunt, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck until the rush washes over.
More people than you could imagine are watching how your thighs shake and your pussy quivers around him. They can see how he raises you just enough to display how his cum overflows and spills out. You both were a mess and all they wanted was more.
*************** ~ Donated 2000 Chocos - again again again
********* ~ Donated 1200 Chocos - eat it out of her
****** ~ Donated 3000 Chocos - can we get a different angle?? i wanna see her better
All the automated messages flowing in has your body on fire more than it already was.
“Seems like I’ve got competition.” Valko’s hand outlines the curves of your body as he lets you rest. “You hear how much they love you, pup?”
You nod. “Again. I wanna go again, too.”
How could he not fulfill such a request? This time though, he planned to show you firsthand for why he was so highly favored.
Could you keep up?
a/n: i was sitting on this for daaays 😭 and i dunno if it’s actually any good.. but i didn’t wanna say anything in case i didn’t finish it lmfaooo BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED, MY CUTIES!!!
creds to @/angeliicide for the bratz dividers & @/astroyosei for the lily divider!!
⋆.𐙚 ̊“So… what position is your favorite, wolf boy?”
Maybe you’ve been pushing your luck a little too far tonight. Valko had warned you several times that if he came over, he had a few work things he needed to get done. You agreed, because regardless at least he’d be present and you’d get his company.
But… you didn’t realise how tempting the wolf would look simply typing away on a laptop that seemed remarkably small compared to his long fingers. “I’ve particularly enjoyed my time as chairman the most.” He mutters it half-heartedly, brows furrowing as he reads another line of text and back spaces on it.
You find yourself swallowing a groan, of course he’d be so absorbed in his work that he’d interpret your question that way. “No, Val. S’not what I meant…” You suck on your bottom lip, debating if you should really push forward with your not so sweet agenda.
“I meant…” you shift on the couch, pushing to your knees so you can bend down and press your lips to the side of his head. “...what sex position." Everything halts for a moment, and you have to hold your breath in order to not laugh when Valko’s knees slam into the underside of your coffee table.
He had claimed the floor would be a better space to work but now… “Have you lost your mind?” He’s whirling on you, staring up at where you perch yourself on the couch.
It’s not out of anger, more or less it’s out of pure shock. He had been so locked in, nearly done, and there you go derailing his entire train of thought. “Maybe a little. I was just curious if the doggy liked it… doggy style…?” terrible, terrible joke…
Valko stares at you, unblinking for a moment, before a rosy hue spreads up his cheeks. “You’re a devil.” Breathless, pupils slowly dilating as he stares at you. Finishing the project be damned, he’s higher up in power anyways. “Why don’t I show you my favorite?”
“I can’t!” This, by no means, is what you were picturing for Valko’s favorite position.
Your head is nearly pushing through the pillow, spine curving upwards as your fingers dig deep into the roots of his hair. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s brought you over the edge with his tongue alone. “I can’t, Va-ah!” Another orgasm, nearly painful, ripples through your lower half and up your spine.
Your thighs instinctively fight against his grip, attempting to snap shut around his head. As if it would somehow be enough to forcibly detach his mouth from your poor, overstimulated pussy. “Please, Val, I can’t take it!” Shoving hard, he finally eases up. Mouth parting from your cunt with a slick pop, a gingerly placed kiss following.
“You asked me what my favorite position is.” Pushing up on his elbows, he stares down at the glistening mess he created between your thighs. “Was eating you out not an option?” His tongue licks across his fangs before darting out to poke at the reminisce of slick left on his lips. “N-no it wasn’t.” You manage to stutter, body finally melting into the mattress as the exertion of so many orgasms catch up to you.
“You just taste so good, and your smell is so strong down here.” A wave of heat floods you for a whole different reason, legs immediately moving to snap shut but Valko stops you. “Your pheromones, your natural scent? I can smell your arousal, I love the way you smell when you’re turned on. It’s so strong right down here…”
He’s trailing off as his nose twitches, eyes lazily zeroing in on your puffy cunt again. “I could suck on this pretty pussy all night, y’know. Listen to you cry my name over and over, feel your body tremble while my tongue licks your clit, hmm?”
“Valko, please…” A slight crack in your voice, embarrassment and arousal swirling deep in your gut as you realize how quickly you had lost your upper hand from earlier. “Eating me out is your favorite foreplay, what’s your favorite sex position?" Your body ached, not from exhaustion, but from the renewed need to feel him inside of you.
“M’honestly not too sure…” The confession has you sitting up on wobbly arms. It’s your turn to look mildly incredulous. “You’re not sure?” The wolf between your legs finally settles on his stomach, folding one arm under him and using the other to balance his head on his fist. He looks like he’s genuinely pondering the answer to a serious hypothetical, with swollen lips and bed-head thanks to your iron grip.
“I like when you’re on top… so maybe cowgirl?”
Bounce on that wolf dih crazy style fr fr ... part 2? LMAO - Soul
One hundred forty-three rounds later, and you’ve finally won.
Every bulging, sweaty muscle strains as you laugh on top of Valko for the final lunge, pinning him by his throat and waist into the mats below.
“Haha, and that’s victory for me!”
He grumbles in response, pouting although you see the ghost of a smile curl against his lips. “Ya right. You tripped me, dirty little minx.”
You coo at his adorable sulking, “Big bad wolf can't handle a little bit of dirty play?” Pressing your forearm harder, you watch something dark flicker in Valko’s eyes as his breath stutters. “Don’t you know your enemies will be ready to exploit your every weakness?”
The room is filled with both of your ragged breathing, sweat dripping between your tanged bodies, undoubtedly soaking through your bra and shorts. The air sticks to you, hot and sticky.
Valko takes a deep inhale, chest rising under your palm, before going unnaturally still. The stillness of a predator ready to jump.
You tense, anticipating him to wrestle you off and begin the next match, and yet it never comes.
No. Instead, you’re met with the unmistakable feeling of something growing harder, larger, pushing up against your clothed ass.
The flush on your face is no longer just from exhaustion.
“Did you- are you—”
Valko’s whine cuts you off, his eyes screwed shut as if in horrible pain. “Don’t. Please.”
He’s trembling. Every hulking muscle under you straining as his enormous palms come up to cup your thighs, nails digging in.
“I just,” Valko lets out another whine, pitched and desperate, his amber eyes snapping open and begging up at you no better than a puppy would. “Ah shit, you’re so perfect. Fight perfect, smell perfect,” one broad hand goes to your ass, squeezing hard enough to pull a startled yelp from you, the sound shooting through him like another strike. “Feel perfect.”
Fuck.
Something about losing to you, about the ache blooming through his body where your blows had landed, the solid weight of you pinning him effortlessly into the worn training mats… perhaps it should have bruised his pride or made him fired up.
Instead, it leaves Valko fucking dizzy.
Your scent surrounds him, swallowed with every inhale Valko takes, intoxicating and cloying on his tongue as though he could taste you already. It’s sweet and a little spicy, like cardamom or amber, filling his brain with static as his every instinct narrows down on you and your body. To lay claim. To take.
He doesn't mean to keep nuzzling into your sweat-slicked body. One breath isn't enough, then another isn't either, every deeper pull filling his head with a pleasant, humming need that leaves less and less room for coherent thought.
Acceptance.
Need.
Mate.
Despite your full weight still pinning him to the floor, Valko's hips buck sharply up into yours, nearly throwing you off him. But his hand tightens against your ass, forcing you down into the movement at the exact same time he grinds his still-growing erection right up into your clothed pussy.
You both moan at the mere contact.
More. He needs more.
His hips don’t stop moving, pushing up into you with quick little rabbit thrusts, Valko’s head thrown back in a deep, unashamed moan as he chases the friction. His jaw opens, nearly drooling, about to manhandle you into a better position to grind against when you lean back down.
And slap him right across the face.
Immediately, he freezes, blinking and shaking away the shock and arousal from his face. His cock jumps from between your thighs, though, and that’s all the confirmation you need as Valko looks back up at you with wide eyes.
“Behave, puppy.”
You place your hand around his neck, grinding your hips backward as you watch Valko’s eyes roll back.
“I won,” you remind him. “That means you listen to me.”
He nods with so much enthusiasm you almost worry about his neck.
“Yeah, yes. Of course. I can take it, please.” Anything, anything for you to keep touching him.
Your hips are flush against his, grinding up and down just like you would be if you were riding him. The thought alone has Valko moaning louder, completely uncaring if anyone heard, voice hoarse as you squeeze his throat tighter.
It’s teasing both of you to insanity, so close and not nearly close enough. Friction hot and pressing right up against your clit, but doing nothing to ease the growing ache between your thighs. It doesn't help that the outline of his dick is enough to grind on, wide enough to part your lips and feel strain against your clothed pussy. Fuck, imagining all that power, that size stretching inside you…
You’re no better than animals in heat, gasping and panting as your hips never stop moving, spine arching as his tip catches your clit. “Ahhh, good job, baby, making me feel so good. Good boy.”
Valko keens at the praise. “Thank you, thank you. I’m your good boy, I’ll be such a good boy.”
He’s drooling as he writhes beneath you, nails clawing into the floor with the restraint it takes not to flip you over and rip your shorts off before fucking until both of you pass out. Bite and mark you as his. Fill you with his seed until he’s shooting blanks, watch you drip with his cum, push his knot inside you and cum again and again and again—
You laugh. Poor thing doesn’t even realize he’s moaning all of this out loud.
“Shhh, I’ll let you, puppy.” Leaning down, you kiss him just to shut him up, licking into his open mouth. “I’ll let you breed me.”
“Fuuuck yes.”
Valko’s tongue shoves into your mouth, hot, invasive, lapping into the kiss. You let him, kissing with teeth and tongue, spit spilling down the side of his mouth as he takes more and more. He bullies himself closer, greedy for every scrap of attention, chasing each inch you’re willing to give and always reaching for one more.
“I’m sorry, feels so good, too good.” Valko groans, every thrust becoming more sloppy, and you can tell from how sloppy his kisses are and the unevenness of his thrusts that he’s already close.
You click your tongue as though reprimanding a spoiled pet before breaking the kiss, hand tightening around his throat.
Valko breaks away instantly with a sharp gasp, chest heaving. His eyes snap to yours, dazed and teary, as though being stopped is its own reward. “Sorry, m’sorry. Please keep kissing me, please, I’m sorry.” Another whimper. “You said you’d help me, ya? P-please baby, let me cum.”
“And let you stain my favorite gym shorts with your cum? I don’t think so, puppy,” you scold, teasing your fingers up his rough undercut.
His breath catches so abruptly his whole body gives a tiny, involuntary jolt, shoulders loosening beneath your hand as a slow shiver rolls down his spine at the mere touch. If his ears were manifested, they would be pulled back, his body chasing the sensation before his mind could catch up, leaning instinctively into your palm like some half-domesticated thing desperate for another touch.
Every instinct urges him to reclaim your mouth, to grind back into your clothed pussy, but he forces himself still. Because that’s what you’ve taught him to do.
What a good boy.
Lifting your hips, Valko sobs at the loss of your heat. Your free hand reaches down instead, shucking down his sweat-drenched shorts and boxers in one tug, his cock bouncing out from its confines.
It springs against Valko’s abdomen with a wet slap, every bulging, veiny inch a sensitive pink, tip swollen and leaking all over his pretty red happy trail.
Valko whines, bucking into the air, “Please-ohhh-please let me in you. I’ll make you feel s’good, I’ll be so good. Ah fuck, come on.”
Something, anything to release this unbearable pressure swelling up at the base of his dick.
So you slap him again, and this time the second the crack echoes across the room so does his moan. A fresh spurt of pre-cum stains his abs, so much leaking and spilling down his stomach, you’re damn near concerned.
“Shh, don’t be too loud, someone might hear how desperate you are, baby.” You kiss his forehead and strip.
First you peel off the sports bra, then kick down your shorts and panties, smiling at Valko’s star-struck expression before dropping back down completely bare onto his muscular thighs.
“Come here, puppy.”
He obeys immediately, sitting up faster than humanly possible and ramming his lips onto yours, hands fighting to cup your breasts before he thinks better of it and curls them against his sides into trembling fists.
You hum into the kiss, guiding his hands up to your skin, “Go on, you can touch me.”
Two massive arms engulf you. Valko’s already nuzzling into your bare chest, mouthing at the lines of sweat collected from your sports bra, hot tongue dragging against every inch of skin. There’s no rhythm, no logic, just sloppy licking between your breasts before sucking at your nipples, around and up until he’s at your collarbone, every sensation so overwhelming that you feel yourself soaking his thigh.
“M’sorry, can’t stop. Taste so sweet…” Valko’s licking another long strip up your neck before finding a spot that makes you whine, nipping and teething at it while his hands come up to pinch and roll your swollen nipples. You moan at the feeling of it all, hips rolling against his quads as he purposefully tenses the ridges of muscle underneath you, letting you grind against him.
Once again, the two of you are humping each other like dogs, except this time there’s no more clothing to get in the way.
Your bare cunt envelopes his throbbing cock, every movement heightened by loud, wet sounds of the two sliding together, pseudo fucking in a way that drives both of you insane. The taste and smell of you is overwhelming, Valko dipping his head to suck at your nipple while bucking up into you, abs flexing, drenched with sweat and your combined slick as his cock drags past your clit, pressing desperately right up against your cunt before slipping to your ass and coming right back again.
His frustration is becoming obvious. Low growls muffled into your chest as grinding turns to proper thrusting, tip ramming at your entrance just too thick to push in and your thighs too slippery to find purchase.
“Shit! it’s not– not fitting. Please, let me in.” He’s begging, drooling against your chest. ”Please sweetheart, please doll.”
You want it just as badly. So you tug on his hair, pulling Valko on top of you as you lie down, and slowly turning yourself around until your chest is pressed into the training mats beneath you.
Valko’s frozen like a predator just narrowed in on a prey.
Except that prey is you. Your teasing smile lured him in, and your bare, dripping cunt presented to him like heaven mere inches from his drooling face.
Arching your back deeper, you smile as you finally give him what he’s been dying for. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, Valko, ya? Wanna knot me?”
He’s barely breathing, golden eyes glowing slightly as they lock with yours, unblinking. “Yes.”
Then, he pounces.
In a blink, his six-foot-something body slams into yours, shoving your face into the floor, one arm effortlessly forcing your ass higher to meet his hips and the other pinning your back into a deep arch to accommodate the weight of his chest now pressed against your spine.
Completely mounted, your muscles scream from the stretch and pressure his body gives, his heavy cock still leaking violently from between your spread thighs, thrusting between them, a puddle of his pre-cum splattering down between you.
You laugh into the mats, right where you want to be as you goad him into taking all that he wants and more. “Go on then, puppy. Claim me, take me, make me yours—!”
You can’t even finish your teasing before Valko bullies himself inside you with one violent thrust. Hands dig grooves into your thighs, pawing at your ass, stomach, chest, all while pulling you backward into every powerful thrust.
Valko’s head drops with another unashamed moan, tongue lolling out to lick at your nape and spine, drooling with every tight flutter your walls squeeze around him. God, you’re gushing. He’s glued to the mess where your bodies meet, your ass bouncing with each thrust, taking him so perfectly he’s losing his mind.
“Ohhh you feel so good.” Pressing deeper, his hand snakes around to press against your lower stomach, feeling the outline of his dick as you scream into the floor. Valko groans, babbling into your ear as his hips snap faster. “I know pretty thing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He’s repeating it against your neck between licks and nibbles, still not letting up any of his force. You feel something unmistakable swell against the curves of your ass, knocking against your cunt and thick enough to hit your clit too, each slap making you sob from pleasure-pain.
“Gonna f-fuck my little mate full of my cum, then eat you out, then fuck you again—oh fuck. Love you and this perfect pussy,” Valko’s slurring his words, talkative as ever and loud enough for the entire training facility to hear him moan.
His thrusts turn deeper, unable to part with your heat, his knot grinding furiously against your clit as you feel your body begin to tremble. “She’s takin me so well, so tight. Mhmm I’ll fill her well, give her everything she wants, fuck her full-full of my knot.”
God, he needs to shut up or you’re going to cum.
“Shh,” you hush him before breaking into a moan. “Too loud, Valko. Someone could—ahh fuck—hear you!”
Oh, but he can’t! He can’t, not when he finally feels your pussy begin to cream around him with your impending orgasm, almost wet enough to take all of him and his knot! This is what you want too don’t you see? This is what his pretty little mate needs.
Valko can’t even comprehend what he’s saying anymore, just growling and moaning into your neck as he drops his arms to properly rub at your clit and tug at your sensitive nipples, biting down into the junction of your shoulder and neck as you squirt all over his thighs with a pitched scream.
“Good pup, good mate, keep cumming for me.” Valko licks at the pin-pricks of blood blooming from his bite, going right back to babbling into your ears as his thrusts turn rougher. “Ready to take me, have my knot, my cum, oooh youfeelsogood.”
In a last attempt to muffle your boyfriend's horny sobs, you squirm beneath him to grab your gym shorts and stuff Valko’s mouth with them, gagging him with the sweat-stained spandex. And he simply takes it, open mouth drooling all over your clothes as he gets drunk off the scent of your sweat and arousal stained into them.
You both gasp at the feeling of his knot finally pressing into your entrance, the swollen, heavy weight of it forcing you several more inches open before slipping back out. Again, and again.
Instinctively, you run away, like a bunny cornered by a wolf, writhing underneath him as Valko snarls, hands engulfing your hips entirely as he drags you back onto his cock, forcing you still with so little effort it's laughable. Nothing stops him from pressing in deeper and deeper, your poor cunt finally yielding to his knot, the burn making you drool into the floor as Valko moans into your makeshift gag.
It’s forever and only seconds, your orgasm-sensitive pussy drooling enough to help him slide in fully, greedily sucking up every extra inch he gives you until you both feel the pop! of his knot finally catching inside you. It presses every damn inch inside you so perfectly you cum again, wailing and trembling as your thighs begin to go limp.
No matter, Valko just holds you up anyway. It’s not like he could pull out of you now, even if he wanted to. Not until he filled you with his cum, at least.
You’re still shaking from the prolonged orgasm, and Valko lets the rest of your body fall to the floor, following you down until his body is smushed atop yours, pressing you both into a mean prone bone.
It just makes him feel bigger. Your head is spinning with all the sudden pressure, his fat tip kissing your cervix as he rocks back and forth, his knot still grinding into that squishy spot against your walls, the heat and weight of his chest pressing into your back, and of course, his muffled moans and rambles still going strong even through your panties.
“Cum, Valko.” You’re barely thinking straight either, already right at the edge again as Valko’s thrusts turn sloppy, his body shaking. “Fill me up, b-breed me. Become mine.”
He’s cumming.
Valko whimpers into your neck as his hips snap one last time into yours, grinding as you feel the warm gush of his release spurt violently inside you, filling and filling and filling you up. So much, too much. Too much that cum squirts out from even the tight plug of his knot, dripping down both of your thighs even as Valko whines at the waste.
He doesn’t seem to fully realize he’s done, still rolling his hips into yours, each one powerful enough to drag your bodies tangled along the floor.
“Nooo, Valko,” you whine, trapped under his weight and still inflated with his knot. “Valko, stop, sensitive! Too sensitive.”
Your hands helplessly shove and push backward at the enormous man lying on top of you, not even budging him as he continues to nuzzle himself into your sweat-slicked back.
Finally, you manage to yank your clothes out from his mouth, releasing him from the gag as he simply sighs in pleasure, licking and nipping at your ear before dragging his tongue in a long, messy line down your neck.
“You’re so heavy. Get. Off!” Each word is a shove, but Valko only laughs at the effort. He does take mercy on your poor abused body though, and grabbing your waist with one hand, rolls the two of you over. You now rest on his plush chest instead, both of you heaving as you lie still pumped full of his knot and cum.
“M’sorry, guest instinct just took over there, y’know? You’re not hurt, are you?”
Omg I literally just saw this comment on a Valko fic and I can't help myself.
Valko would be so adorable, whining into your folds as you gripped his hair, petting him softly to watch that fluffy tail wag if he were in his hybrid form. His huge hands would grip your thighs, keeping them pinned open for him to get the absolute most of your scent and taste. He could honestly cum in his pants just from that alone.
That's when you'd notice his hips rutting against the mattress he had you spread out on in quick, shallow thrusts, breathing getting heavier. He'd lift up quickly just for a small huff of air before burying himself muzzle deep once more, already regretting those few seconds away from your heat.
Valko's hips would move faster when you got wetter, claws accidentally digging into your thighs but quickly letting up when his sensitive ears hear your small wince. You'd almost wish he kept digging them in, the slight pain only added to your impending orgasm. He could smell you getting closer, your scent getting stronger.
Valko would growl low in his chest, unable to stop his hips from grinding down unto the bed as he imagined he was actually shoving his thick cock into your tight pussy instead. He groaned against you at the thought.
As soon as you came, moaning his name and tightening your fingers in his deep auburn locks, Valko felt his knot swell, barely contained anymore by his pants, which were immediately flooded with his own cum.
When you see the dark stain spreading between his legs and the absolutely pussy drunk look on his now wet face, you know you have to reward him for being such a good boy.
He'll definitely be living out that fantasy of his tonight.
୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.
“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“
Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.
A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.
“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“
He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.
“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.
His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.
“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.
You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.
“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…
“Valko- can't- no more-“
His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“
Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.
Then something big started pressing at your entrance.
You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-
His knot.
It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.
“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”
“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.
“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”
“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“
“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”
You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.
“Valko.”
He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!
“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”
“YEAH.”
“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.
“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“
“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”
You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.
He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.
“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“
He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.
“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…
“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“
“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.
Still absolutely clueless.
Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.
“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Mm.”
“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”
“I hate you.”
“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”
Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“
“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”
“I never said-“
“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“
“I do NOT sound like that.”
“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”
You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.
“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.
“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”
“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”
His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.
Don't get me wrong, so are the others but Valko takes the crown.
Would build a shrine for you if you let him. Has your picture on his phone lockscreen, wallpaper and profile pictures on all socials. You're in every one of his posts, most of them are entirely of you and he's always in your comments, hyping you up and writing corny stuff like "is this what winning feels like?". Has a framed photo of you on his work desk and a polaroid of you in his wallet. Never takes off the jewelry you bought him. Gets couple rings at the first hint from you. Wears your scrunchie on his wrist. Has your contact saved as "Wifey" in the first month of dating him.
You'll never know when your makeup items are about to run out because he's already gone through your products and reordered your usuals.
He's the type to get your car serviced, tyres refilled and fuel tank pumped full before you ever realize you needed any of those things done. Cherry on top, he reverses your car and parks it in the garage so you're good to go in the mornings.
The type to hand feed you. Literally. When you're so swamped with work you haven't moved from your chair in hours. When you're running late to work, he's holding out spoonfuls of breakfast to your mouth while you clip on earrings or handing you your bag, wallet, keys and your coffee thermos ready for you as you bolt out the door. Waves till you can't see him in the rearview anymore.
And the intimacy. God. Playing with your fingers while you talk, tucking your hair behind your ear when you don't even notice it's come undone, wrapping his jacket around you, pulling you into his warmth when you're shivering, letting you wear his shoes and walk barefoot when your feet are sore because of heels, holding your hand even when his hands are full of groceries, hand on the small of your back when you walk, reaching over and fastening your seatbelt for you, hand on your thigh while he drives, kissing your wrist, nipping at your skin, pulling you closer by tugging at your chair, tucking your hand in the crook of his elbow, putting his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, spooning you in bed, moving your hair to the side to kiss your nape and inhale your scent that grounds him.
Never backing down from lifting you up. The moment you say anything demeaning about yourself, you might as well have wrenched his heart. He's never going to repeatedly quote some meaningless platitudes to you, he's present, he's listening and he wants to know what hurts, why it hurts. It's never too much. You're never too much. Your muchness is the reason he loves you and he'll make sure you will never forget that. You can climb onto his lap, sit encircled in his arms for hours on end and he doesn't complain, doesn't move, doesn't stray from topic unless you're done. He doesn't want to give you solutions for the problems you're facing, he knows you can handle them. All he has to do is remind you.
Biggest contributor to just-because gifts. Vase of flowers? Always full, always blooming. Nail salon certificate from your favorite one resting in your purse before the new ones have finished drying? Check. Swinging by your favorite coffee place and grabbing your order before you leave? Cup is already resting in its holder in your car. Sending you and your colleagues pastries in the afternoon? He knows you love sweet treats. Making reservations and picking you up for dinner with a change of clothes incase you don't like what you're wearing? Already taken care of. And God forbid you try to pay for something on your own, he's going to sulk all day long till you promise to break your own card into two.
Clinginess dialed to a 100. Holding hands when you go out is a given. He's not against doing it at home too. Olympic level cuddler. In the mornings in bed. On the couch while watching movies. He'll even try to sneak a little cuddle time while you're cooking. And what's that about water? Oh right, you should be saving some so he's definitely in the shower with you. Not afraid of PDA. Infact, his cousins are always telling you both to get a room. Would step out of a board meeting and see you waiting for him by the reception, making small talk when he rushes over, kissing you in front of everyone, figuratively wiggling his tail that's tucked away.
Not afraid of being vulnerable with you. Of crying in front of you. Of breaking down when the pressures of being in a position as demanding as he was get to him. Of being being open about how much he needs you and your support. None of your fights with him last long. Not when he'd get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Literally. Fully believes it's the ideal and the only correct way to atone.
The way he'd take such good care of you when you're sick. Not balking or freaking out if you accidentally stain your clothes during your period or if you're sick and throwing up, holding your hair back, helping you out of clothes you've dirtied, wiping your body down if you can't shower, staying by your bedside for the times you come to, meticulously timing your medicine intervals.
Does not have a single love language. His love language is all of them. Acts of service? He could teach a course. Words of affirmation? Not a day goes by when he's not reminding you how beautiful you are and how lucky he feels to be a part of your life. Gift-giving? He funds a black card in your name. Physical touch? He has to be peeled off of you sometimes. Quality time? 24 hours the a day is not enough time for him to be spending with you.
Never says no to anything you propose. You want to learn how to do stunts on a dirt bike? He's buying you the gear. Swimming in a cage with sharks? He's booking the trip. The deadliest rollercoaster in the world? He's going to be scared and terrified within an inch of his life but it's not going to matter because he's here and he's here with you.
Loves to hear you ramble on about things you are passionate about. Loves hearing you sing off-key and way off beat in the shower. Loves watching you do little dancey dances with your headphones plugged in when you cook or do laundry. Loves paying attention to you. To everything you do. To everything that makes you so undeniably you. He loves you.
His most favorite thing to do with you, is dancing. Holding you close to him, back to his chest, face nuzzled in the curve of your neck with his arms around you and one of your arms wrapped around his nape as you both sway to the music in the dim lighting of the living room, heartbeats thrumming in sync and louder than the music in the background. Happy and content. In each other's company. With each other.
And when you hear the slow rumble of thunder before the pitter-patter of the rain follows, you're dragging him outside to dance with you in the rain, with the smell of concrete and soil potent in the air.
And he'd follow you, drenched and soaking in the rain as you both danced and jumped into puddles and kissed and held each other close. Because of course he would.
It's Valko. He'd do anything for you.
🜼
A/N: I wanted to cheer myself up by writing this for all my lovelies on here but it just depressed me further I think. I've seen such heartbreaking fanarts of Valko saying "they didn't like me" and I honestly sobbed.
Sincerely requesting all artists and authors and editors to not stop mentioning Valko, writing fics and making art for him. Please.
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
