Valko x reader comfort for a bad day because im on a roll
Valko CHOOSES to be open with his full heart and soul. He makes that active choice again and again. For you.
Every time you hide your emotions under a nonchalant facade?
He's there, gently prying your trembling hands from your lap and playing with them, until you're comfortable enough to open up.
His gentle yet perceptive lupine gaze never leaves you, making you feel so, so seen. The tears slide down your face and he's there, he's always there.
His arms curl around you as he gently murmurs reassurances, his warmth pouring into all your worries as though from an unending well of love.
He entwines your hands, his larger palm barely covered by yours. Wearing his heart on his sleeve has never been a problem for you. Especially when you tug on that sleeve to be even closer to him.
And after that?
He lightens the mood. A joke for the wet chuckle you softly let out. Rocking you back and forth as he likens you to his favourite plushie (hint: it's you, it's always been you - but his wolf plushie is a close second).
The warm puffs against his heart as your breathing evens out and you fall asleep on him, curling even closer as though your body craves his comfort even beyond consciousness.
Oh, he could die happy.
He wouldn't let you dwell in darkness ever. Not when he's by your side.
summary: your closest in-game friend wants to meet in person and claims to be the chairman of the company that designed the full-dive gear. now he just has to prove it
wc: 4k
content: just a normal tech company, virtual reality, online friends to lovers, fluff
A soft, twinkling chime rang in your ears as the glowing blue mushroom dissolved in your palm, a floating green notification popping up in your field of vision: [Lunar Fungus x3 added to inventory].
The full-dive tech was so flawlessly advanced that you could feel the lingering cool dampness of the soil on your fingertips. It was a complete escape from reality.
You reached up, lightly rubbing the tip of your elongated ears. While you had kept your avatar’s body as similar to your real-world self as you could to avoid the jarring switch between bodies, you had allowed yourself this one fantasy trait. Under your fingertips, the cartilage felt completely real, twitching slightly in response to the ambient rustle of the digital forest.
A sudden glass-like shatter interrupted the calm, immediately followed by the metallic clinking of dropped loot hitting the forest floor. You looked over at the commotion in time to see a hulking figure step out from the brush. It was HowlKo. His massive, muscular frame carried a greatsword like it was nothing more than a feather. He would have been an impressive sight if it weren’t for the way his heavy burgundy tail thrashed behind him the millisecond his golden eyes locked onto your form still kneeling next to the patch of mushrooms you had spent the last hour foraging for.
“Hey, Ko,” you said casually, turning your attention back to your task, continuing to pluck the fungus from the root.
The frantic wagging of his burgundy tail stopped dead, and his golden eyes blinked at you in disbelief, his jaw dropping open. He lowered his greatsword, resting the heavy tip against the dirt.
“‘Hey, Ko?’” he repeated, his voice carrying an offended whine. “Really? That’s it? No ‘Thank you, Ko, for saving me from those goblins’?”
“I do not sound like that,” you protested.
He continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “I defeated the whole mob for you, and all I get is ‘hey?’ Unbelievable.” His fluffy ears pinned back against his hair, pouting. You rolled your eyes, a laugh bubbling in your throat at his antics.
You put on a grandiose voice. “You’re my hero, Ko! How can I ever repay you?”
He pretended to think about it, but he already had a request in mind. “Gimme half of those mushrooms.”
“No way!” you objected, the playful tone dropping instantly into a horrified hiss, clutching your inventory pouch close to your chest. “Do you have any idea how long it took to find these? Find your own!”
“They would have been forfeit if that mob had gotten you, so I could be asking for all of them,” he rebutted.
“That’s assuming I couldn’t handle them myself. Which I totally could have.”
“I have way more attack points than you—“
“And I have more hit points, so what’s your point?”
“Just gimme the mushrooms,” he pleaded. “I’ll trade you half the goblin loot.”
“No deal,” you hummed, popping the last of the mushrooms into your inventory with a victorious chime. “I don't need rusty goblin armor, and I have plenty of gold. I need these for my alchemy level.”
Ko let out a dramatic, exaggerated groan, throwing his head back so hard his fluffy ears flopped pitifully against his hair. He stomped over, his heavy boots rustling the grass, and plopped his massive frame onto the dirt next to you. He didn't even bother to sheath his sword properly, letting it clatter to the side. “You're so mean to me,” he whined, his tail giving a singular sad pat against the earth. He leaned sideways, heavily dropping his shoulder against yours. “I log onto this server every day just to be your personal bodyguard, and you won't even share a few measly mushrooms.”
You laughed, the tip of your sensitive ears twitching at the sudden warmth of his avatar leaning against you. “If you're so starved for attention, why don't you go bother the players in the town square?”
Ko huffed, his golden eyes narrowing as he turned his head to look at you, his tone shifting from whiny to something softer. Tentative, even. “Because they aren't you. Besides, you come over to my cabin all the time to cook and log off. If we’re going to spend hours bickering over digital mushrooms…” he paused, his tail giving a nervous twitch. “...why don't we just do it over actual dinner? In the real world?”
Your smile dropped as the weight of his question settled between you. You looked at him, at the golden eyes staring at you expectantly, the ones you had come to be so familiar with, and felt a pang of guilt in your chest.
“Ko…” you started softly, shifting your weight on the grass. “You know I love spending time with you here, but I don't think I’m comfortable with meeting in person.”
His burgundy ears perked up in a flash of confusion, his head tilting. “Why not?” he asked. “You already know me.”
“I know HowlKo,” you corrected. “But the real world is different. You could be literally anyone behind that avatar, and reality doesn't have the built-in player protections that Whispering Woods does.”
A heavy, stunned silence fell over the clearing. Ko sat frozen. He looked heartbroken, his fluffy tail dropping flat against the dirt with a pathetic thump. He let out a long sigh from behind the mask. “Okay, fair point,” he conceded, his tone shifting to something hopeful once again. He reached up, his large, clawed gloves unlacing the leather straps at the back of his head. “But what if you already know exactly who I am?”
With a soft click of the game’s apparel physics, the wolf snout mask dissolved into light. You blinked, tracking the movement as the pixelated shower of light dissipated. With the mask no longer blocking his features, you could finally see the strikingly sharp jawline, the perfectly sculpted lips, and the flawless symmetry of Chairman Valko—the very man who headed the tech company that had designed the full-dive gear you were currently using.
For a few seconds, all you could do was stare at the newly revealed lower half of his face. Then, a snort escaped you, followed by bright, airy laughter that echoed through the clearing. You leaned back on your hands, shaking your head in amusement.
“Oh my god, Ko, no way,” you giggled, completely missing the pouty expression on his gorgeous features. “A Valko mod? Are you serious? You really customized yourself to look like the EonCore CEO? How much real-world cash did you drop just to roleplay him?”
Ko’s jaw slackened— a handsome jaw, you had to admit, even if it belonged to a counterfeit billionaire. His virtual wolf ears drooped so much they practically disappeared into his hair. “I didn't buy a skin—”
“Sure you didn't,” you laughed, reaching over to pat his ridiculously perfect cheek. “It's a great prank, really. 10 out of 10 for originality.”
“But—” he started again, but you weren't listening, your attention instead taken by the timer you had set popping into view.
“Gotta go, Ko. Have food in the oven. See you tomorrow!” you said cheerfully, logging out before he could respond and leaving him in the clearing to ponder the best way to prove his identity to you.
— — —
When you dived back into the server the next evening, HowlKo was already waiting for you, his wolf mask back in place. He was pacing back and forth, his heavy tail thrashing behind him in a blur of agitation. The moment your avatar materialized, he stormed over.
“I’m gonna prove it to you,” he declared, skipping any sort of greeting.
You raised an eyebrow. “Prove what? That you're a secret billionaire?”
Ko didn’t answer. Instead, he swiped his hand aggressively through the air, summoning a glowing gold developer console that regular players absolutely did not have access to.
He typed in a command, and, with a deafening crash, a veritable mountain of rare items dropped to the ground, more than you’d ever seen in all your time playing the game combined.
“See! Look! Just a few clicks and I can have anything! Other players can’t do that, but I can.”
You gazed in awe upon the assortment of gold, gems, potions, even mythical weapons and armor. “Wow, Ko. You’re a skilled hacker,” you commented, totally missing the way his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Seriously, though, be careful, or the actual chairman is going to ban your account, and I don't want to lose my favorite foraging partner.”
Ko felt like he was going to scream. What would it take to prove it to you? A small, pathetic whine escaped his throat. “Just…keep the loot,” Ko groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose right above the snout of his mask. He gestured to the fortune surrounding you. “Consider it a gift.”
You immediately took three massive steps backwards, putting as much distance between you and the contraband Ko had summoned. “No way. What if you get me caught for cheating, too?”
“Not how it works. And it’s already here anyway, so just take it.”
You staunchly refused, and Ko stared at you, his fluffy burgundy tail drooping. He looked so defeated that you caved, only a little, and plucked a health potion from the pile. It appeased him, if only a little, a small smile spreading under the mask. “If you really need to get rid of it all, I know this dragon player that would love to take it off your hands.”
Valko hummed, but didn't argue that the items were intended for you. He acquiesced and asked what the player ID was, pulling up that strange navigation console. He almost scoffed when the ID pulled up one of the most pretentious usernames he had yet seen, and he had seen many. “Abysm Sovereign?” he laughed, reading the name aloud. “Just who is this guy?”
His contagious laugh ignited your own. “You should see the rest of my friend list,” you giggled, already pulling up the list. Ko’s eyes scanned it, reading names such as PntMeLk1ofUrFrnchGrls, PommePommePilot, StarBoyLumiere, and, disappointingly, Dr. Z.
With the wealth transferred to a now very pleased dragon, you and Ko set off for his player residence, a gorgeous, secluded cabin tucked away in a seldom-visited corner of the map. The property, like all player residences, was restricted to those who hadn't been invited by the owner.
Once inside, you beelined to his alchemy table, eager to use those mushrooms. While you pulled items out of your inventory, Ko threw himself on the plush velvet sofa nearby. He finally removed his mask, tossing it onto the coffee table. His large frame took up the whole couch and then some, his feet propped on one armrest while he threw an arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow. His golden eyes tracked your avatar’s every movement, his gaze unbearably fond.
“You know,” he rumbled, “you're lucky I let you use my crafting tables for free. Most alchemists have to rent those.”
You didn't even look up from your stirring, the corner of your lip twitching into an almost-there grin. “I’m still not sharing the mushrooms.”
“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “You can't spare just one?”
You shook your head, not even trying to hide your smug amusement, airy giggles filling the room and embedding themselves in Valko’s fluttering heart.
By the time your brewing level flashed a celebratory [Level Up!] notification, it was getting late. You stretched your avatar’s arms, yawning. “Alright, Ko, I’m heading out for the night. It’s getting late.”
He sat up on the couch, his expression suddenly shifting into something serious, his intense gaze locked onto you. “Tomorrow at noon,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “There is a global EonCore Tech broadcast. Watch it.”
You blinked, throwing him a confused look, but agreed all the same.
“Promise?” he asked, his burgundy ears giving a sharp twitch.
You smiled softly at him, still wondering why he was so adamant that you watch. “Yeah, yeah, I promise,” you laughed, waving a hand at him. “See you tomorrow, Ko!”
You woke up with a groggy yawn, the phantom sensation of pointed ears still lingering as you rubbed your eyes. Glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. 11:58 AM. You scrambled for your tablet, quickly tapping onto the livestream you had promised Ko that you would watch.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a massive auditorium flooded with press. At the podium was the real Chairman Valko, so much more intimidating than your foraging partner. The one at the podium wore a suit that could probably cover your rent, his hair perfectly styled and golden eyes scanning the crowd. He also lacked the pointed ears and fluffy tail that you had become so fond of.
“As we move into the new fiscal year, EonCore remains dedicated to the safety and experience of its players,” Valko spoke, his smooth voice echoing through the speakers. It was the same voice that usually begged you to share potion ingredients, but here, it was devoid of any hint of playfulness.
You watched him, leaning back into your pillows. You almost scoffed. As if Ko could really be-”
“However,” Valko continued, pausing as he looked at the center camera lens. “With our recent update to the servers, we advise our players to exercise caution when playing the new events. You never know what kind of stray dog you might find. You may find the Lunar Fungus not worth the risk.”
Your jaw dropped, and the tablet nearly slipped from your grasp. The press in the auditorium didn't even blink, his vague warning likely sounding like a teaser for whatever new event was being added, but you knew better. A breathless, horrified gasp left your throat as your mind flashed back to the day you had first come across the wolf hybrid avatar.
Valko had wanted to test the gameplay personally, and thus HowlKo was born. The only problem? He was a disaster. You had been slowly but surely making your way through a dungeon when you heard a series of crashes. Turning around, you had found a towering, clumsy player with a wolf mask surrounded by level-two slimes he couldn't figure out how to target and bits of armor that had, up until a moment ago, been neatly displayed as a full suit.
You had sighed, easily slicing the slimes away and helping him up. From that point on, he hadn't left your side, clinging to you like a remora. He didn't know the map, he didn't know the crafting recipes, and he refused to leave your side, following along behind you everywhere you went.
“You're like a stray dog, aren't you?” You had joked back then, watching his tail give a hesitant, hopeful wag. You’d been inseparable since.
Back in the real world, you stared at the screen, mortified. Valko, Ko, adjusted his expensive cuffs, gave a polite nod to the press, and stepped away from the podium.
You couldn't get the VR set on fast enough, the sensory transition passing in a blur of blinding white pixels until your feet hit the wood floor of Ko’s cabin’s front porch. It was your day off, which meant you had a completely open schedule. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had nothing to distract yourself from dwelling on the fact that you had been calling a tech mogul a stray dog to his face for a year. Or that you'd accused him of hacking.
You didn't even bother going inside. Instead, you dropped onto the top step of the porch, wrapping your arms around your knees as you waited for him to log in. For twenty agonizing minutes, you sat there, staring at digital grass and felt the simulated breeze blowing through the clearing Ko’s cabin was situated in.
Suddenly, a chime interrupted the serenity, signaling the arrival of the owner of the cabin. In a blur of burgundy pixels, Valko’s avatar materialized just in front of the steps leading up the porch. Your head jerked up, watching him materialize in front of you.
He was wearing his wolf snout mask again, his massive greatsword securely strapped to his back. The second his boots hit the dirt, he registered your figure sitting on his stoop. A look of shock crossed his face.
“Did you watch the broadcast?” he asked, his deep baritone carrying a smug amusement.
You buried your face in your hands, groaning, more embarrassed than you cared to admit. God, you couldn't believe you had accused him of hacking.
“And what did you think?” Valko prodded.
“That I’m an idiot,” you lamented, your voice still muffled by your hands.
He chuckled, leaning down to pull your hands away from your face, the pout on your lips so endearing he felt his heart skip a beat. With your hands still in his, he pulled you up, leading the way into the cabin.
Your cheeks flamed. All you could focus on was the way his warm hand encapsulated yours so perfectly.
Inside, he removed the mask, letting it dissolve in a cloud of pixels, revealing the sharp curve of his lips in a smirk, his fangs flashing. “Y’know, I think you should make it up to me for calling me a hacker and a liar,” he teased, gearing up to once again pester you for those damn mushrooms.
You frowned, the floor suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. An uncomfortable guilt settled in your chest from your previous words. “‘M sorry, Valko,” you mumbled, barely looking up from the floorboards, like a child being scolded by a parent.
The grin fell from his face. He wasn't trying to actually make you feel bad, especially over something he wasn't even mad at. He certainly didn't want the first time he heard you say his name be because you were apologizing to him. “Ko,” he corrected bluntly. “I’m still your Ko. The version that you know is the authentic one. Nothing has really changed if you don't want it to.” He spoke earnestly, desperate to rectify the slight miscommunication and salvage your image of him.
You looked at him properly this time, searching his eyes for any hint of dishonesty. Finding none, you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”
He considered the question for a moment. “Because then you would have treated me like the EonCore Tech chairman.”
You were taken aback by his answer, but considered his earlier words. He was still your Ko. “For someone who wanted to avoid being recognized, you sure didn't change much about your avatar.”
The return of your sly grin lifted a weight from his chest. “That’s what the mask is for, duh. I’ve seen you almost every day for a year, and you never suspected it. Even when I showed you my face, you assumed it was a skin. So obviously hiding in plain sight was a great plan, thank you.”
You rolled your eyes, happy that your companion was here to stay.
“In all seriousness,” he began again, the brief levity broken as soon as it had been established. “I thought about what you said the other day. I’ve proved who I am, and I was serious about wanting to meet you in person. But if you're still not comfortable, would you be open to a virtual date? We can do whatever you want, right here on the server.”
His tail gave a small, hopeful wag, his eyes wide and sincere as he awaited your answer. Warmth bloomed in your chest and spread across your face to the tips of your ears. Slowly, you shook your head.
Valko’s shoulders dropped instantly, his ears drooping and his tail becoming listless. He couldn't hide the abject disappointment fast enough. “That’s alright,” he said, forcing a smile, wishing he had never opened his mouth.
“No, Ko,” you laughed gently. “I’m declining the virtual date.”
He snapped his head towards you, his ears perking back up. “You mean-”
You nodded. “In person,” you confirmed. “If the offer still stands.”
A beamed at you, his bright smile lighting up his whole face with unbridled joy. “The offer absolutely stands.”
— — —
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped inside the restaurant. You had half expected some over-the-top, expensive restaurant with a month-long waiting list. Instead, Valko had sent you the address of a dimly lit, likely family-owned hole in the wall. It was cozy, the decor outdated and the booths a little worse for wear.
“Do you recognize it?”
You turned around. Standing near a corner booth was Valko— the real-world Valko. He was dressed down in a sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, looking impossibly handsome despite the casual clothing.
You blinked, looking around the exposed brick walls and checkered tablecloths. “Oh my god,” you breathed, a bright smile breaking across your face. “It’s the tavern in the city center.”
Valko nodded, thoroughly pleased that you not only recognized it, but that it made you happy. The dinner passed in a blissful blur. Any lingering nervousness you had entirely dissolved in the first ten minutes. He was the same doting and slightly needy partner you had spent the better part of the past year falling for. He poured your drinks, pushed the bread basket closer to your side, and listened to everything you said with rapt attention, his eyes soft and full of unwavering fondness that made your cheeks flush.
As the night finally wrapped up, he offered to take you home. You guess you shouldn’t have been surprised that he had a personal driver, but you were still flustered when Valko himself held the door open for you, sliding in beside you.
“So, Mr. Chairman,” you hummed. “You kept your identity a secret, hid a message in a global broadcast, and built a replica of one of your favorite restaurants in-game. Any other surprises up your sleeve?”
Valko hesitated, diverting his attention to the passing streetlights before looking back at you, so pretty in a way your avatar hadn’t been able to capture. “Maybe one or two,” he chuckled. He redirected the conversation back to you, not quite ready to reveal the rest and wanting more than anything to arrange another date to get to know the you behind the avatar who taught him the mechanics of his own game and so jealously guarded her inventory.
When the car pulled up the curb in front of your apartment building, Valko reluctantly slid out of the seat, holding the door for you and offering his hand.
“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “I had a great time.”
Valko nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Would you, uh,” he faltered, red spreading across his cheekbones. “Would you want to do this again?”
You giggled, over the moon that he seemed every bit as enamored with you as you were with him. “I’d love that.”
He let out a relieved huff, the nervous tension visibly leaving his shoulders. You bid your goodbyes, but you’d hardly taken two steps before you stopped wrestling with your own cowardice, shoving it down as you whirled back around to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. With a final, whispered goodbye, you hurried into the building, leaving Valko to stand there with his fingers lightly grazing the skin your lips had been on just moments prior.
His heart fluttered like a trapped hummingbird, soaring high as he climbed back into the car. His mind kept wandering back to what it felt like to have you close—for real this time, not like when you’d cozy up next to him on the couch of his cabin.
He ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks beginning to hurt from how much he had been smiling. As he watched the scenery pass by, he wondered when and how he should tell you that the fluffy ears and tail he wore as HowlKo weren’t just digital accessories.
۶ৎ valko just adores the arousing gasp you let out when he releases his thick load inside of your creamy cunt. he cums more than any boyfriend you've ever had, (and you might have even told him that fact whilst drunk out of your mind one late night) so he does it continuously. every single time.
۶ৎ he makes up for it by licking you clean, despite the hint of his own taste on his wet tongue. valko's brows will furrow once he takes his very first kitten lick, but he's relentless anyways. he solely desires to lap up the mess he made.
۶ৎ he'll then come up to your sensitive ears and whisper the sweetest nothings to you in no louder than a soft grumble. he can't resist exploring your curves endlessly with his calloused hands as he does so.
۶ৎ you'll take turns giving each other hypnotic, relieving massages. valko will moan loudly when you reach a knotted spot, his defined muscles flexing and his veins showing themselves off.
۶ৎ he refuses to drift off to sleep without you, unless you're content and comfortable. unless you have anything and everything you could possibly want from him.
۶ৎ once you're finally tucked in and ready to rest, he'll ask you for feedback on his lovemaking as he wishes to improve and impress you next time.
۶ৎ it doesn't matter if you're praising his effort or requesting something different, he'll watch you talk with wholesome puppy eyes. though, he's mostly listening to your sexy voice passively as his thoughts have been wandering. he can't stop wondering how you're even real.
۶ৎ valko always makes sure you fall asleep before him. he'll then get very close and bury the point of his nose into the side of your neck. a deep growl will escape him every time he shifts a little throughout the morning, the vibrations against you soothing and pleasant.
reclining with valko in bed and watching youtube videos, your head pillowed on his arm as he holds you close. your laptop casts the video to your tv, but both of you are listening more than watching; your eyes droop as you fight off the temptation for a midday nap, and valko gently brushes your hair out of your face as he watches you start to doze. he presses a kiss to your temple, then rests his head against your own, his eyes starting to fall closed as well.
... you can rewatch the parts you missed later. sleep comes first.
Okay but like you know how you wake up from dreams that felt so real and for a while it felt like you're waking up to a reality where something's missing? Mourning something you list because you woke up / realizing it's not real?
Well that but MC waking up from dreaming abt Valko and crying over missing someone they haven't even met yet (or someone they've only met in their dreams)
(yes this is me coping over what Infold did, it's insane)
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃
synopsis: you wake with valko's name on your lips, and a grief you have no explanation for. in the ruins of a dream that felt more like a memory, you try to hold onto the man you've never met.
cw/tw: valko x reader. grief. dream loss. existantial longing. angst. hurt. unreality.
read here: ao3 ⋅ tumblr
There was a name in your mouth before there was air in your lungs.
You woke with it half-formed against your tongue, ruined by sleep, softened by tears, and for one dreadful second you believed that if you only said it properly the would would correct itself. The room would bend back into whatever mercy it had been before, the bed would become warmer, the empty space beside you would remember its owner.
“Valko,” you whispered.
Nothing answered.
The cruelty of waking wasn't that the dream ended, dreams ended every day. They thinned, they broke, they went pale in the mind like ink left too long beneath light. The cruelty was that your body hadn't been informed. Your hands still knew the weight of him, your cheeks still carried the ghost of a shoulder. Somewhere below your ribs, in that private room where grief kept its furniture, something had already begun to mourn.
You sat up too quickly the room swayed.
For a moment, you hated it. The ordinary bed, the ordinary walls, the glass of water on the nightstand, the shirt thrown over the chair, the quiet proof that your life had gone on being your life while you had been elsewhere becoming someone's beloved.
You pressed the heel of your hand to your sternum as if you could hold yourself together by force.
It was absurd. Shameful, almost. To cry over a man you had never met. To wake up broken-hearted over a life that had not happened. You wanted to laught at yourself for it, wanted to be sensible, to say that the mind was a house full of locked rooms and sometimes one of them opened onto madness.
Instead, you bent forward and wept.
Because in the dream, he had loved you.
He had loved you clumsily, with too much honesty in his face and too little skill in hiding it. He had loved you like someone who had never been allowed to touch anything gentle and had therefore hadnled gentleness as if it might bruise. He had stood too close when he was worried, looked away when he was tender, and smiled as though happiness embarrassed him.
His ears had appeared when you touched him.
That was the part your waking mind returned to first, perhaps because it was the strangest, perhaps because it was the sweetest. In teh dream, you had been laughing at him. He had been pretending offense with such theatrical dignity that the whole scene should have been ridiculous. There had been flour on his sleeve. You remembered that with devastating clarity. Flour on his sleeve, a cut on his thumb, the warm clutter of a kitchen that must have belonged to you both because everything in it seemed to know your hands.
He had said something foolish. You had reached up, without thinking, and brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead.
Then his furry ears had risen.
Just like that.
A small betrayal of the body, a confession made without his permission.
He had frozen as if the world had placed a blade against his throat.
You rememered his eyes most clearly then. Not the colour, though you knew you had known it in the dream. You remembered the terror inside them, the sudden animal fear of being seen too completely. He had tried to step back, you had caught his wrist.
“Valko,” you had said, and there had been laughter still in your voice, but something softer beneath it. “Is that all?”
His tail had appeared next.
The shame on his face had been so human that it ruined you.
Now, awake, you covered your mouth because the memory of it came with such violent tenderness that it felt indecent to possess. Who had given you the right to remember his fear? Who had allowed you to carry the most vulnerable part of someone who did not exist?
But he had existed.
For those hours, in that other country of sleep, he had existed more truly than anyone you had ever known.
You remembered a village road and his hand around yours. You remembered him walking too fast, then slowing when he realised you were half a step behind. You remembered him pretending not to like sweet things, then stealing chocolate from your bag with the grave expression of a sinner entering church. You remembered calling him impossible, and the way he had smiled then, all teeth and apology.
You remembered one evening, his head in your lap, his body too large for the narrow couch, his tail thumping once against the floor when your fingers found the place behind his ear that made him melt with humiliation.
“Don't tell anyone,” he had mumbled.
“You're terrible at being frightening.”
“I am frightening.”
“You're pouting.”
“I'm brooding.”
“You're wagging.”
He had gone still with such betrayed horror that you had kissed his forehead just to spare him from himself.
The memory returned so vividly that your fingers curled around empty air.
And yet...
The bed remained empty.
That was when the grief sharpened. It wasn't the grief of loosing a person. That, at least, had rituals. There were names to carve, clothes to fold away, photographs to turn face-down when they became to unbearable. People understood the dead. They brought soup, they lowered their voices, they forgave you for repeating the same story because grief made time circular.
But how did one mourn the unreal?
How did one explain that you missed the particular warmth of a body that had never warmed yours? That you were homesick for a kitchen you had never entered? That somwhere in the ungovernable provinces of your sleep, you had spent years behind a man, and morning had taken all of them in one clean, bureaucratic stroke?
You got out of bed because staying there felt like agreeing to something. The floor was cold beneath your feet. You crossed the room and opened the drawer of your desk with hands that still trembled. There was a notebook inside, half-used, its pages filled with lists, fragments, appointments you had mised and thoughts you had outgrown. You found a blank page and wrote his name.
Valko.
The letters looked too small.
You wrote it again.
Valko.
Then, beneath it, before the dream could begin its terrible evaporation, you wrote everything.
He likes chocolate, but pretends he doesn't. He gets quiet when he's hurt. His ears show when startled, touched, embarrassed, happy. He's afraid of being too much. He says my name like a question he's scared to ask twice.
You stopped. The pen hovered.
Your name.
He had said your name in the dream.
You could still hear it, spoken as if he were returning something fragile to its owner. The memory of his voice was the worst of it. Faces could blur, places could alter, but the voice reamined, intimate and imspossible, a thread tied somwhere inside you.
You wrote:
He asked if I was really all right with him...
Then your hand failed.
Because you remembered that too.
It had been in the kitchen again, but much later. The flour gone, the light dimmer, the air between you altered by the confession his body had made. He had been standing near the table, arms folded too tightly, ears gone now, tail hidden, everything about him violently ordinary except the wound of his expression.
“You shouldn't answer quickly,” he had said.
“About what?”
“About me.”
You had looked at him then with the careless cruelty of someone loved enough to be brave.
“What about you?”
His jaw had shifted. “You know...”
You did know. In the dream, you knew everything and nothing. You knew there were names for what he was, stories, warnings, old women crossing themselves at windows. You knew he had been feared before he had been held. You knew that somewhere inside him lived the expectation that every tenderness was only ignorance waiting to become disgust.
So you crossed the kitchen, slowly enough that he could run if he needed to, and placed your palm against his chest.
His heart had been hammering.
“Is this supposed to scare me?” you had asked.
He gave a small, helpless laugh. “Hell, it scares me.”
“I know.”
“I don't want you to wake up one day and realise...”
“Realise what?”
“That you were kind because you didn't understand.”
You had leaned your forehead against him, and after a long moment his arms had come around you.
“I understand enough,” you had said.
But now you had woken.
The sentence sat on the page like an accusation.
I understand enough.
You didn't. You understood nothing. You didn't know where he was born, whether his grandmother had a garden, whether he sang when drunk, whether he slept on his back or curled inward as though guarding the soft parts of himself from the world. You didn't know whether he was real. You didn't know whether, somewhere beneath the same indifferent sky, he had woken with your name in his mouth too.
The thought made you almost angry.
It would be easier if the dream had been monstrous. If he had been a symbol, a temptation, a beautiful invention of the sleeping mind. But the memory of him was embarrassingly specific. He had chipped one mug and refused to throw it away. He had hated when you left cupboard doors open. He had once carried a moth outside in his hands and then denied it with great dignity when you teased him for being tender.
A soul could invent beauty. Perhaps it could even invent desire.
But could it invent habit?
Could it invent the way someone paused before entering a room, as if asking permission from the air?
You wrote until the page blurred.
When the tears fell, they softened the ink. His name bled into the paper. You stared at it, horrified, then laughed once, quietly, because even on the page the world insisted on taking him from you.
By noon, the dream had begun to decay.
You hated yourself for the pieces you lost first. The colour of the kitchen walls, the sound of his footsteps, the exact shape of his hands. You tried to summon them back and found only approximations, cruel little substitutes your mind offered like counterfeit coins.
Still, some things stayed.
The warmth of his forehead beneath your mouth.
The panic in his eyes when his ears appeared.
The way he had asked, “Are you sure?”
As if love were a door he had been trained never to walk through without permission.
You moved through the day like someone recently bereaved and faintly ashamed of the body’s insistence on continuing. You drank water. You forgot breakfast. You answered messages with phrases that belonged to normal life. All the while, beneath each small act, another self sat beside the ashes of a world and refused to leave.
In the evening, you opened the notebook again.
The page had dried. Valko remained there, blurred but legible.
You touched the name with one finger.
A ridiculous act. A devotional one.
“I miss you,” you said aloud.
The room did not answer.
And yet.
Something in you, some instinct older than reason and more faithful than sanity, lifted its head.
You turned toward the window.
Across the street, under the weak gold of a shop sign, a man stood with his hands in his pockets. He was too far away for certainty, too still for coincidence. Dark hair, broad shoulders, the slight awkwardness of someone who didn't know what to do with his own body when unobserved.
Your heart began to beat so hard it hurt.
He looked up.
For one suspended second, the world held its breath.
Then a passing bus cut between you, enormous and ordinary and bright with advertisements for lives no one had lost in dreams. When it passed, the pavement was empty.
You stood there long after, one hand pressed to the glass.
Perhaps you had invented that too. Perhaps grief, being proud, had dressed itself in a body and walked past your window to keep from being dismissed.
And that night, when you finally slept, the dream didn't return.
Only a voice.
Low, careful, almost amused.
“You remembered.”
And somewhere inside the dark, before waking could steal him again, you answered as if you had been waiting all your life to say it.
୨୧ — Valko was sprawled on his stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, hair an absolute disaster, ears twitching occasionally at sounds only he could hear. His tail had escaped the covers sometime in the night and lay flopped over your legs like a furry anchor.
It wagged once. Twice. Even in sleep, some part of him always knew you were there.
You'd been awake for an hour already- crept out at an ungodly time to execute your master plan, then slipped back in to wait. The apartment smelled like vanilla and sugar and slightly burnt frosting (you'd scraped off the evidence), and the living room was housing a mountain of wrapped presents you'd been secretly hoarding for weeks.
His nose twitched.
There it is.
You watched his brow furrow, still mostly asleep, processing the unusual scent data. His tail started wagging faster. Then his ears perked up- one, then the other, swiveling toward the bedroom door like little radar dishes.
“Mmrph” A grumble. His arm reached out blindly, patting the mattress until he found your thigh and latched on, “Why's it smell like... cake?”
“Good morning to you too.”
One golden eye cracked open. Then the other. He squinted at you suspiciously, clearly not trusting his own senses this early, “‘S not my birthday.”
“It literally is.”
He buried his face back into the pillow, “Birthdays are for people who age. I refuse. I'm eternal.”
You snorted and scratched behind one ear. His whole body went boneless, a low rumble building in his chest.
Cheater, he thought hazily. Using the ears against me.
“Made you a cake,” you said in the sweetest fucking voice.
His head lifted. Both ears now at full attention, pointed directly at you with laser focus.
“…What kind?”
“Chocolate. Three layers. Homemade buttercream… There may also be irresponsible amounts of presents. That leather jacket you've been staring at for six months? Those limited edition headphones that sold out in three minutes?" You grinned. "Oh, and I contacted that artist you like for a custom commission- it won't be ready for weeks so you're getting an IOU with a badly drawn wolf on it. Don't judge my art skills."
His tail was going insane now- hard enough to shake the bed. But his face was doing that thing where he tried to look cool and unaffected and was failing spectacularly.
She remembered, he thought, something warm and overwhelming expanding in his chest. Every stupid little thing I mentioned once. She was listening. She planned this. For me.
You didn't get to finish the sentence.
Valko moved fast and suddenly you were pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face inches from yours.
“You,” he said roughly, “are so annoying.”
“Rude. I made you cake-“
“The most annoying person I've ever met.” He kissed your forehead. “Insufferable even.” Your nose. “Absolutely unbearable.” The corner of your mouth.
You cupped his face in both hands.
“Happy birthday, my little wolfie.”
He made a small, undignified sound. His tail drooped. His ears flattened.
And then he buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you tight enough to squeeze the air from your lungs, and just... stayed there. Breathing you in.
You held him tighter, scratching at the base of his ears as his whole body melted against yours.
His tail started wagging again- slower, softer.
Best day, he thought. Best person. Gonna marry her.
“So,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “wanna see your presents? Orrrr is it still too early?”
He bit your shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.
“Five more minutes.” He lifted his head, flashing that sharp grin- still slightly watery but getting cockier, “Then presents. Then cake. Then I'm gonna show you exactly how grateful I am. Repeatedly.”
“...It's eight AM.”
“And? I've got all day. You gave me three layers. That's at least three rounds.”
“That math doesn't-“
He dropped back down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, “My birthday. My math.”
I’m annoyed. Annoyed that they aren’t making statements and are staying silent.
I’m annoyed that the employees had their lives in danger and it was live-streamed.
Im annoyed people are THREATENING workers over a character.
I can’t imagine the stress staff must be going through because of all of this and on top of it people losing their JOBS over this. I hope the employees are safe, I hope the moderators are safe and I can only hope Valko comes back.
⏾⋆.˚ You couldn't find him anywhere. [Mild 18+ / Angst / Hurt/Comfort]
“Valko?” Your voice only seemed to echo back at you, taunting in tone as your feet pounded against the cool metal flooring of one of many of EonCore’s laboratories.
The one your wolf had specifically spent most of his time in.
Yet, with every bellow of his name, no response followed. Valko, who had told you to meet him here. Who had said it was urgent.
Who had oddly ended his messages with an abrupt “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Was now silent in all senses. No call, no text, no verbal responses. Nothing.
Dread inches its way through your veins, cruel and unforgiving as you shoulder open the last door in this hallway. A spare office, one he specifically told you he used as a decoy for a higher profile experiment.
If he wasn’t in here, quite honestly you’d be convinced he had been erased off the face of the earth at this point. “Val?” Peering into the room, your heart plummets to your feet. It’s been wrecked. Desks turned over, files destroyed, carefully conducted months upon months of research completely ransacked.
“Oh my god…” Instinctively, your fingers find the cool metal of your gun. Wrapping around it so hard your knuckles whiten.
“Valko? C’mon say something.” It seems your legs move before your mind can truly process anything, stepping deeper into the carnage and nearly slipping.
Something wet glides beneath your foot. Something thicker than water; metallic in a way that it assaults your nostrils.
Glancing down, you’re met with your own reflection in a crimson pool of blood. A scream so shrill threatens to tear from your throat and yet not a single ounce of breath escapes your lungs.
Within that puddle is your lover, cold. How long he has been gone you’re unsure. But there is something oddly beautiful about his peaceful expression.
Metal clattering against metal is deafening and yet you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. You hit the ground hard, knees splashing sickeningly into the pool of Valko’s cooling blood. Your hands tremble so hard you can barely angle them right to hold his graying cheeks. “No…no no no no no…”
“You can’t do this to me… you can’t leave me… you promised…”
Hot tears blur your vision, a garbled mess of no tumbling from your lips. Agony rattles in your chest, a feeling so painful you can’t stop yourself from doubling over. Forehead pressing into the cold, unmoving mass of Valko’s chest.
“Hey! C’mon, little wolf. It’s just a bad dream, wake up.”
Your eyes snap open as a strangled sob rips from your throat, tears burning and throat tight as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Woah, it’s okay!” Valko, your strong, warm, breathing Valko lays in front of you. Amber eyes glowing even in the darkness of your bedroom, filled with pure concern.
“It was just a nightmare, it’s okay.” he hadn’t the slightest clue as to what you dreamt of to terrify you in such a way. All he knew is you were shaking, sobbing in your sleep and whimpering out his name loud enough that it woke up.
So, by default, it must have been something utterly horrid. He’s never seen you this shaken before, not even in the depths of battle.
“V-valko…?” it hiccuped out of you, hands physically shaking as you cupped his warm cheeks. Skin that was warm, alive, blood rushing just beneath. Still circulating. Felt his pulse thrumming under your fingertips, felt his breath ghosting your tear stained face.
“I’m here, little wolf. M’right here.”
He’s dragging you in, not asking questions, just cradling you to his chest. The chest that had felt so surreal, so cold and still. It sends a renewed wave of tears brimming over your eyes. “Y-you died.” You managed to cry into his chest.
The words were so jagged and bitter that Valko swore he could taste the poison on his own tongue. “I-in my dream, you were dead. It f-felt so r-real, V-val…!”
You were grieving him, and he was right here. Alive, warm, holding you. Yet you were hysterical. Laying before him, a shaken shell of a woman as you sobbed into his chest over something that never actually happened.
But something that clearly felt so real that it had rattled you to your very core.
It felt as if someone had cracked open his ribcage and wrapped their fist around his heart, as if his own evol were squeezing it in a vice grip. Ready to pop it for all that it was worth. “Hey, hey, look at me. Baby, I need you to look at me.”
Baby.
The very pet-name that the two of you always made fun of. Noses scrunching and immediately side eyeing the other when you heard a couple use it in public.
Yet, it was always the first thing to slip past your lips when the other was upset, or hurt, or maybe both. “Baby, take a deep breath, please.” Now, he was begging.
“It wasn’t real, I’m alive. See? You feel this?”
He shifts, pushing back just enough to grab one of your trembling hands and place it firmly against his bare chest. Right above the steadfast pounding of his very much alive and working heart. “See? It’s beating, it’s pushing my blood through my body as we speak. I’m alive, right here next to you, little wolf.”
You feel it, strong and real, and slowly you can find the will to even your breathing.
“Good girl, deep breaths.” It’s meant to be encouraging, yet it makes you feel just a little light headed. “Don’t say things like that.” You mumble, using your free hand to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks.
“I can’t praise you?” A genuine sound of surprise, as if he can’t fathom why he shouldn't be proud of you for overcoming a very obvious panic attack.
“S’not what I was talking about.” Nasally, your nose is annoyingly stuffed from all the tears. “Then wha…oh.” Mildly startled at the realization, but it doesn't stop the toothy grin that suddenly tugs the corners of his lips.
“You were just sobbing, now you’re getting flustered?” The hand he still had held to his chest now wiggled free from his grasp, lifting slightly to haul off and playfully smack him. “Consider it a successful distraction.”
You shuffle closer to him, pressing your once wet face into his chest. Inhaling his scent, letting it fully relax the last of the tension still stored within your shoulders.
"You smell good, Val." It's fully muffled into his chest, vibrating his skin and earning a delicate chuckle. "You always ask me what you smell like, why don't you tell me what I smell like, hmm?" Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, arms and legs finding their natural home slotted in, on, or around the others'.
"You smell like a man." It's blunt, and you feel rather than hear his laughter. "You smell clean, like all the time. Expensive, too. Like incense and woods, fresh air with a hint of smoke. You also smell a bit like chocolate but I'm pretty sure that's because of your hidden stash." He tenses, how on earth did you find the stash?
"You also smell like my coconut lotion, the one I let you borrow when your regular one ran out but then you liked it so much that you just bought a bottle for yourself."
He smiles at that, one of the earlier memories in your relationship. Also one of his fondest. "Most of all." You yawn into his skin, nuzzling into his chest as if you could truly burrow your way inside of it. "You smell like home, Val."
In the quiet of your shared bedroom, with the nightmare pushed far behind you, Valko wondered if you could hear how hard his heart was hammering from that statement.
Banner is from @/cafekitsune
This was going to turn into smut but then I just got really soft over him after the new updates we've gotten... low key I'm getting sad all over again but I'm trying to hold out hope but... man... I miss Valko... I miss playing LaDs... infold what the fuck - Soul
“You expected a brooding powerhouse. You got a history nerd who blushes when you call him cute.”
Everyone assumes Valko spends his free time lifting weights.
Or sharpening knives.
Or brooding dramatically while standing on rooftops.
They’re wrong.
You discover this after walking into his apartment one afternoon.
“…Valko?”
No answer.
You follow the sound of his voice into the living room.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in a hoodie, glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by books, papers, and what looks suspiciously like a model kit.
“…What are you doing?”
He looks up.
“Oh. You’re early.”
“…Are those…”
He glances down.
“…Miniature medieval trebuchets.”
Silence.
“You build… tiny siege weapons?”
“They’re historically fascinating.”
You stare.
He stares back.
“…I think I love you more now.”
Dating Valko means learning very quickly that the giant, terrifying man your friends are scared of…
…cannot be trusted inside a bookstore.
“It’ll only be a minute.”
Three hours later you’re sitting in the café with two empty cups while Valko emerges carrying a stack of books so tall you can barely see his face.
“…Baby.”
“I only bought six.”
“That’s enough to qualify as moving furniture.”
“They were on sale.”
“That sentence has never saved anyone.”
His favorite thing in the world?
When you accidentally ask him a question.
“What kind of bird is that?”
You have made a mistake.
“…Well…”
That single word tells you everything.
Twenty-three minutes later you’re listening to the migration patterns of three different species while Valko excitedly points toward the trees.
His hands are moving as he talks.
His eyes are bright.
His usual deep, calm voice gets just a little faster every time he remembers another interesting fact.
“…And that’s why they’re different.”
You blink.
“I asked what bird it was.”
“I know.”
“I love listening to you.”
He freezes.
“…You do?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“…Most people tell me to stop.”
You reach up and cup his face.
“I’ll never tell you to stop.”
The smile that spreads across his face is so soft it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs.
He owns more sweaters than you do.
You refuse to believe otherwise.
They’re all oversized.
They’re all ridiculously soft.
And somehow every single one smells like cedar, coffee, and him.
You steal one.
He notices immediately.
“You have my sweater.”
“No, I don’t.”
“…You’re wearing it.”
“I found it.”
“In my closet.”
“It was abandoned.”
He sighs.
“…Keep it.”
“Really?”
“…You look happy in it.”
You learn that one of Valko’s favorite forms of affection…
…is reading to you.
You’ll be curled up against him on the couch while he quietly reads aloud from whatever book he’s obsessed with that week.
Sometimes you aren’t even listening to the story anymore.
You’re just listening to him.
His voice rumbles softly through his chest where your head is resting.
Every now and then he pauses.
“You fell asleep.”
“I was listening.”
“You snored.”
“I was… listening peacefully.”
“Hm.”
Then he kisses the top of your head…
…and keeps reading anyway.
One evening you catch him whispering to the little succulent on the windowsill.
“…Valko?”
He jumps.
“…Yes?”
“Were you talking to the plant?”
“…No.”
“The plant that you just called ‘little warrior?’”
“…”
“…Maybe.”
You walk over, kiss his cheek, and smile.
“You’re such a nerd.”
His ears immediately turn pink.
“…I’m not.”
“You collect tiny trebuchets.”
“They’re historically accurate.”
“You own color-coded bookmarks.”
“They’re organized.”
“You made a spreadsheet ranking every book you’ve read this year.”
“…”
“I rest my case.”
He lets out the most dramatic sigh you’ve ever heard, rubbing the back of his neck.
“…You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I heard that.”
“I know.”
You grin mischievously.
“My giant, intimidating, adorable nerd.”
His face goes even redder.
“…Stop.”
“Oh my gosh.”
“…What?”
“Are you blushing?”
“…No.”
“You are!”
“I’m warm.”
“You’ve fought monsters without flinching, but I call you cute and suddenly you’re overheating?”
He covers his face with one large hand.
“…Please.”
You can’t help it—you laugh, reaching up to gently pull his hand away before standing on your tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose.
“There he is.”
“…Who?”
“My boyfriend.”
He blinks.
“The scary guy everyone avoids?”
“No.”
“The guy who spends an hour in bookstores.”
“…”
“The one who gets excited over random bird facts.”
“…”
“The one who secretly names his plants.”
“…”
“The one who blushes when I call him cute.”
He groans quietly.
“…You’re never letting this go.”
“Never.”
A long silence settles between you.
Then, with the smallest, most bashful smile, Valko wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest.
“…Good.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you to.”
You look up at him.
He’s still pink.
Still pretending to be embarrassed.
But he’s smiling—the soft, genuine smile that only ever seems to belong to you.
You bury your face against his sweater.
“I love my giant history nerd.”
His arms squeeze around you just a little tighter.
“…I love you too.”
And somewhere on the windowsill…
…the little succulent named Sir Sprout silently witnessed the entire thing.
♡︎ synopsis: Jet-lagged and wide awake long past midnight, you let Valko invite himself over to keep you company. What starts as a friendly, playful hangout slowly turns into something much more intimate.
♡︎ pairing: Valko x fem!reader
♡︎ tags: friends to lovers, making out, dry humping, use of 'sweetheart' 'baby' 'pretty girl', cowgirl, creampie ofc
♡︎ word count: 8k
♡︎ a/n: After the announcement we got last week, I ofc had to write something for Valko. I hope you like how I wrote him.
It took me over 8 hours to edit this fic, so if you don't like something or if there are any errors, I don't wanna know <3
♡︎ I wanna thank @unintentionalseductress for helping, and my beta reader its-de who doesn't have an account anymore (🙄).
divider by @anitalenia
The glow of the television washes the living room in soft, shifting light, some familiar comfort show murmuring in the background as you sink deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment still carries that faint in-between feeling that always follows a trip, your half-unpacked suitcase sitting by the wall, your carry-on slouched near the entryway. You scroll through Moments without really seeing much of it, your thumb moving on autopilot as photos and captions blur together, and when your eyes flick to the time in the corner of the screen, a quiet sigh leaves you – it’s past midnight. You only got back yesterday, but it annoys you that your body still refuses to remember what time zone it belongs to.
With a small frown, you toss your phone beside you, only to reach for it again a few seconds later. Sleep feels nowhere near, but so does doing anything useful. Your gaze drifts back to the screen, catching on the photo you posted from the trip a few hours ago. For a moment, you just stare at it, thumb hovering near the comments before you see a new notification at the top of your screen, and your breath catches.
Valko.
You stare at his name for a second before tapping on the message, your pulse giving one traitorous flutter as the chat opens.
‘Why are you still up??’
Your finger lingers above the keyboard, a smile already tugging at your lips, before you type back.
‘Why are you up?’
His reply comes quickly.
‘I asked you first.’
A quiet laugh slips out of you.
You shift further into the corner of the sofa, glancing toward the television even though you are no longer paying attention to whatever scene is playing out on the screen.
‘I’m still a little jet-lagged. Can’t sleep.’
For a few seconds, nothing happens.
Your thumb brushes the edge of your phone as you stare at the screen, suddenly wondering whether that sounded too flat. Maybe you should have added something else. Maybe –
Another message appears.
‘Then can I come over and keep you company?’
You sit up so quickly the blanket pooled over your legs slips halfway to the floor.
For a moment, you can only stare at the words – it’s such a simple message, but the thought of Valko here, in your apartment, at this hour, sends a rush through you that makes it impossible to stay curled up on the sofa like nothing happened.
You try to sound casual as you type back.
‘Sure.’
His answer appears almost immediately.
‘I’ll be there in twenty.’
Your eyes widen.
Twenty?
You glance down at yourself, at the pajamas you changed into after your shower. You push yourself off the sofa, hurrying to the bathroom to make yourself more presentable.
By the time you step back into the living room, changed into your new loungewear – an oversized sweater and a pair of shorts – and a light layer of makeup, your heartbeat has still not quite calmed down.
And then you nearly jump out of your skin.
There, just beyond the glass, Valko is already waiting outside on the balcony.
Your hand flies to your chest before you let out a quiet breath, your nerves settling almost as quickly as they spiked. What did you expect? Of course he used the balcony again, like it is a perfectly normal substitute for a front door.
You step closer and slide the door open. Before he can even get a word out, you point toward the entryway and try your best to sound serious.
“You need to immediately take off your shoes and put them by the front door like any other normal person would.”
A grin pulls at his mouth, and a soft chuckle slips from him as he steps inside. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” you say, with as much dignity as you can manage, even though you already feel far too giddy to properly stay in character. “Those are the rules.”
He does exactly as he’s told, walking over to the front door to slip off his shoes and leave them neatly where they should be.
You don’t really get a chance to say anything before he closes the distance between you and pulls you into a hug.
It’s warm and almost a little too tight, the kind of hug that steals your breath for a second, but you don’t care, not when his arms are around you like this. You tuck your face against his chest, breathing him in, and something in your chest loosens.
You missed this. Two weeks wasn’t even that long, but the moment his arms close around you, it hits you how much you’d been craving this exact feeling. The solid warmth of his body, the way he hugs like he means it, the faint familiar scent of his skin.
You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping he can’t feel how reluctant you are to let go.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against the top of your head.
A smile presses against his chest.
“I’m happy to hear that,” you say softly.
His arms loosen just enough for him to pull back and look at you, though his hands still linger at your waist.
“Only happy to hear that?” he asks, head tilting just a little. “You didn’t miss me at all?”
Your heart gives another hard, hopeless thud.
With the way he is looking at you, warm and teasing and still standing too close, it’s hard to hold onto any version of coolness for very long. So you say nothing, only glance away as if that will somehow hide the fact that your pulse is stumbling all over itself.
When he finally lets you go, the loss of his warmth feels immediate. His gaze flickers over you. It’s brief, almost nothing at all, but you catch it anyway – the quick dip of his eyes, the split-second pause that lingers just a touch too long before he looks back up.
Heat stirs low in your stomach.
If he noticed the bare stretch of your legs beneath the sweater, he does not say it.
Then his gaze drifts past you, over the living room.
You follow it, and only then do you properly take in the small signs of the last two days still scattered around the apartment. It’s not a mess, but it’s enough to make you realize, with a small jolt of horror, that while you had been busy changing, fixing your face, and deciding whether those shorts were too much, it had not once occurred to you to make the place look more presentable.
Valko glances back at you, amusement already tugging at his mouth. “You really made yourself at home.”
You stare at him.
Then at the open suitcase, then back at him.
“I – ” You stop, because there is truly no dignified recovery from this. “I just got back.”
His laugh is soft and boyish, bright with amusement, and before you can fumble your way into a proper defense, his hand comes up to rest lightly on your shoulder.
“I’m teasing,” he says. “Relax.”
Something in your chest loosens at once, though the embarrassment still lingers warm at your cheeks.
“You’re annoying,” you mutter, without much conviction.
He only grins and walks past you toward the sofa, entirely too pleased with himself, and drops down onto it, one arm spreading along the backrest.
You stand there for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he’s in your apartment, at almost one in the morning. Instead of sitting down beside him, you linger on your feet and start folding the few clothes left draped over the armchair, because you need something to do with your hands.
For a little while, the conversation comes easily – you ask him what he was doing up so late, and he tells you he got caught up researching something and lost track of time, and then he asks you how the trip was. As you smooth one of the shirts between your hands, you tell him that it was beautiful, that you enjoyed it more than you expected, that you and your friends managed to explore a few cities in between all the wedding preparations, though by the end of it you were exhausted from helping with everything. Even so, you admit that it had been worth it, because seeing your friend that happy, that deeply in love, had made all of it feel strangely tender and a little overwhelming in the best way.
The words trail off there for a second, because the memory rises too clearly, your friend smiling through tears, music drifting through warm evening air, the soft gold of the lights, the feeling of standing just outside someone else’s happiness and being moved by it anyway. You pause with the folded fabric still in your hands. When you look up, Valko is already watching you in that way of his that makes it seem like he notices more than he lets on.
So you shake yourself out of it before the moment can linger too long, and with a softer laugh, you steer the conversation somewhere lighter, telling him that the food alone had probably been worth the trip, and that you would have enjoyed it even more if you had not managed to spill some of it on your dress before the night was over.
“That’s a shame,” he says. “You looked beautiful.”
A soft flutter moves through your stomach, and for a brief second, you remember the small rush of giddiness you felt earlier when the notification popped up and you saw that he had liked the photo. Heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you murmur.
You clear your throat softly and glance toward the suitcase.
“Oh, right,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
His brows lift a little as you cross the room and crouch beside the half-open case, pushing aside a few last things until your fingers find what you had tucked in carefully. When you straighten again, you are holding a small sachet of dried flowers and a box of chocolates.
Valko watches you come back toward him, his expression shifting into mild confusion. “What’s that?”
You stop in front of him and hold the two things out. “A gift for you,” you say, “The flowers are from a little shop near where we stayed,” you explain. “They smelled really good, and they made me think of you. And the chocolates are from a local chocolaterie.”
A quiet breath leaves him, almost like a laugh, though there is something more touched than amused in it.
“That’s... really nice of you,” he says. “Thank you.”
You shrug. “It’s nothing.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not nothing.”
Before you can answer, he reaches for you.
His hand catches your wrist gently and tugs you closer, and the next thing you know, you are half stumbling onto the sofa as he pulls you down beside him and gathers you into another hug, and a startled little laugh slips out of you.
His cheek brushes your temple, and then his lips do too. “You’re sweet,” he murmurs.
For a moment, you simply let yourself stay there, tucked against him on the sofa.
“So,” he says, leaning back, “are you feeling sleepy yet?”
You shake your head. “Not at all. I’m wide awake.”
His gaze lifts toward the digital clock on the wall, and the faint crease that appears between his brows makes you want to laugh a little. “It’s past one,” he says, glancing back at you. “That’s a problem.”
You tilt your head. “Is it?”
“Yes,” he says, with enough seriousness to make the corners of your mouth twitch. “It is. We need to get you to sleep.”
Your lips pull into a small pout. “But you said you wanted to keep me company.”
His expression softens with amusement. “I do want to keep you company, but you should really get your sleep sorted out.”
The pout lingers, growing just enough to make him narrow his eyes at you like he already knows you are about to be difficult on purpose.
“So you said you missed me, and now you’re trying to get me to go to sleep. Rude.”
Valko looks ready to answer right away, but then he stops. His mouth closes again, and something shifts in his expression – a glint of mischief appears in his eyes so suddenly and so familiarly that you know you’re in trouble.
“Oh,” he says slowly, his grin beginning to spread, “so that’s what this is?”
Heat starts rising before you even know where he is going with it.
“Are you saying you missed me too?” His smile widens. “You just want to spend more time with me. Is that what you’re saying?”
Your whole face goes hot.
For a moment, you can only stare at him, feeling the burn spread across your cheeks as your mouth opens and closes once, then again, with absolutely nothing useful coming out. Valko’s grin only widens at your silence, clearly delighted with himself, and before he can say anything worse, you reach up and grab his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them without mercy.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he protests, though the laugh in his voice ruins any real attempt at sounding injured. “No need for violence!”
You let go, trying to look far less flustered than you feel, while he rubs at his cheeks with both hands and gives you a faint little pout that does nothing to make him less smug.
“Well,” you say, refusing to let him have the last word so easily, “you’re awake at this hour too, so why don’t you go to sleep?”
He leans back into the sofa, still rubbing one cheek as if you have truly wounded him, and lets out a thoughtful hum. “You know,” he says after a moment, “you’re right. The research I was doing didn’t help. My brain is still working through it, so I should probably try to relax too.”
His gaze drifts around the apartment then, over the sofa, the blankets, the cushions, and when he looks back at you, there is something almost casual in the way he says, “I can stay here, if you want. I can sleep over and take the sofa. Your apartment is cozy, after all.”
Your heart gives a quick, sudden flutter.
Then he pauses, glances toward the half-open suitcase by the wall, and adds with a grin, “Even with all this mess around.”
You smack his shoulder and he only laughs, like he had been waiting for exactly that reaction.
“Well,” you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile, “if you think the sofa will be comfortable enough, then sure. You can stay over.”
Before he can find something else to tease you about, you pat your hands against your thighs and start to stand up. “Okay, then,” you say sweetly, already turning away. “Goodnight.”
Valko’s hand catches your waist before you get more than halfway up, stopping you without any real effort. A soft, amused laugh escapes him, like he knows exactly what you’re doing.
“No, no, no,” he says, gently pulling you back down beside him. “Now we both have to help each other fall asleep.”
You glance at him, unable to keep your smile from slipping through. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”
“That’s exactly how it is.”
Valko grabs the blanket you’d been using and spreads it over both of you. “We can watch whatever you had on,” he says, nodding toward the TV.
You settle deeper into the sofa, close enough that your knee brushes his beneath the blanket. For a while, neither of you says much. Then, slowly, his arm slips along the back of the sofa and curls around your shoulders, drawing you gently against his side – and you can’t help but lean into him.
At one point, you see him nuzzle lightly into the blanket – that sweet, familiar habit of his that always made you smile.
The episode plays on. A few small comments pass between you, easy and low, but gradually his body grows heavier against yours. His head tips until it rests lightly on top of yours, and his breathing slows into deep, even breaths.
You go still, listening.
A smile tugs at your lips when you carefully tilt your head to glance up at him.
His eyes are closed.
So much for his very serious plan.
Carefully, so you do not jostle him too much, you lift a hand and give his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”
He makes a soft sound first, then shifts against you, his cheek brushing against your hair before his eyes crack open only halfway. There is a moment where he looks thoroughly confused, caught between sleep and waking, and then his brows draw together faintly as if he is trying to remember where he is.
“Hey…” he mumbles, voice drowsy. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you sleep.”
“You’re doing a terrible job,” you whisper back, smiling as you say it.
He exhales a sleepy, half-formed laugh and instead of pulling away, sinks closer, his arm tightening around you.
You stay quiet for a moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between you. Then Valko’s voice breaks it, barely more than a murmur when he asks, “Did you miss me?”
The question is simple, stripped of any teasing. For a second, you just look at him – at his sleepy face, at the hopeful, searching look in his eyes.
“Yes,” you say softly. “I did.”
His arm tightens just slightly around you.
“I was really happy to see you tonight,” you add after a moment. “I know it was only two weeks, but it felt longer than that. And with everything getting busy again soon...” You trail off, then glance up at him. “I just wanted a little more time with you, I guess.”
Valko is quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing slowly against your side. Then he shifts slightly, turning more toward you. His gaze drops to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, and the air between you feels suddenly heavier, sweeter.
His other hand lifts slowly, and when it settles against your upper back, the touch sends a small shiver through you. Then his hand slides higher, fingers spreading gently at the back of your head, cradling you there. You feel yourself drift closer, and he does the same.
Then his lips press against yours.
The kiss is soft and warm and careful. You melt into him. One of your hands holds onto the fabric of his hoodie, your body pressing closer of its own accord as happiness blooms through you so suddenly and so completely it almost feels unreal.
When your lips part, neither of you moves far.
Then he looks at you again, his gaze is softer than before but clearer too.
“I like you too much to pretend this is nothing,” he says, his voice soft and unguarded. He holds your gaze for another second. “Tell me if this is what you want too.”
Your answer comes easily. “I do.”
A small smile touches his mouth, sweet and a little disbelieving.
Then you lean in and kiss him again.
The hand at the back of your neck stays steady as he kisses you, and when your fingers slide from his chest to curl around the back of his neck, his breath catches softly against your mouth.
His mouth parts against yours, and when your tongues meet, the sensation is warm, slow, and so intimate it makes a deep shiver run through you. The slide is unhurried at first – soft, wet strokes that make heat bloom low in your belly. His tongue brushes against yours in ways that make your toes curl and your thoughts melt away. Then he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft, teasing nibble before soothing it with another slow pass of his tongue.
You make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, pressing closer, and he answers with a low hum that vibrates through you. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, but never rushed – every stroke of his tongue leaves you dizzy, aching in the best way, your body melting even further into his hold.
When the kiss finally breaks, you stay curled against him, forehead resting lightly against his, your breaths still uneven.
Neither of you moves for a long moment.
Then you pull back to look at him. “The sofa’s not that comfortable. You can… sleep in the bed with me. If you want.”
His eyes soften, that small smile returning. “I’d like that. A lot.”
While he heads to the bathroom, you slip into your bedroom and freeze for a second. The bed is still a mess from earlier – clothes scattered everywhere from when you’d frantically tried on different loungewear before he arrived – your cheeks burn at the evidence of how much you’d wanted to look nice for him.
You move fast, scooping everything up in armfuls and jamming the pile into your closet. Then you quickly change into your own pajamas: a loose shirt and flowy shorts. From the back of your closet, you pull out the biggest oversized t-shirt you own, with a goofy graphic and a band’s name splashed across the front.
By the time Valko returns from the bathroom, you’re already settled on the now-tidied bed, heart fluttering.
You hold the oversized shirt out to him. “Here. It’s the biggest one I have.”
He takes it from you, eyes crinkling with amusement as he reads the front. “Nice choice,” he teases. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut up and just put it on.”
Instead of stepping out, Valko stays right there in front of you. With that easy confidence of his, he reaches back and tugs the hoodie off in one smooth motion. The movement pulls his t-shirt up slightly underneath, revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach and the sharp cut of his hips before the fabric falls back into place. He peels that off too, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.
Broad shoulders, the hard strength of his arms and chest that you’ve felt against you so many times, now fully on display in the soft glow of your bedroom lamp. Your gaze traces the lines of his body before you can stop yourself, lingering on the way his muscles shift as he unfolds the oversized shirt, then dipping lower to the faint trail of hair on his lower stomach.
Then he unbuttons his jeans.
The soft sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the quiet room. He pushes them down his hips and steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. The fabric clings to the firm lines of his thighs and the unmistakable outline underneath, and your face burns. You know you should look away, but you can’t.
Valko catches you staring.
A knowing smile curves his mouth, “Enjoying the show?”
You immediately avert your gaze. “No.”
You turn off the last light and climb into bed.
He chuckles softly and finally pulls the t-shirt over his head. A moment later he joins you, pulling the blanket over both of you as he settles on his side facing you.
For a second, you just look at each other in the low glow of moonlight from the window. Then he reaches out, sliding an arm around your waist and drawing you closer until your bodies press together again.
“You okay?” he asks softly, the same careful warmth in his voice from earlier.
You nod, tucking your face against his chest, breathing him in. “Yeah.”
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head… then another to your forehead… then, when you tilt your face up, to your lips.
This kiss starts slow and sweet, like the first one, but the closeness of the bed changes everything. Your hands find his chest again, sliding over the soft, worn fabric of your own shirt on him. He tastes like toothpaste, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours under the covers makes your head spin. One of your hands drifts up to the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair, while his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer until your legs tangle together.
A soft sound escapes you when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm and broad against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, but it sends a slow shiver through you all the same. He pauses there, thumb stroking small circles against your spine, as if checking whether you want him to stop.
When you press closer instead, he lets his hand explore further, sliding up the curve of your back, mapping the warmth of your skin like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.
The kiss breaks only so you can both catch your breath, but his mouth doesn’t go far. He trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. When his teeth graze there lightly, your breath hitches.
“Still okay?” he whispers, voice husky now, lips brushing your skin with every word.
“Yes,” you manage, a little breathless. “Don’t stop.”
Valko makes a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. His hands slide to your waist, and with gentle strength he rolls you both over so you’re on top. He helps you settle, guiding your legs until you’re straddling his hips.
For a moment you brace yourself on your hands, hovering just slightly above him. Your heart is racing – nervous, excited, and suddenly worried about settling your full weight on top of him.
Valko looks up at you. One of his hands stays on your hip while the other smooths slowly up your back.
“Come here…” he murmurs. “All of you.”
When you hesitate for half a second, he adds gently, “Just relax.”
Carefully, you lower yourself until your full weight rests on him. The moment your chest presses fully against his, a quiet sigh escapes both of you. He feels so solid beneath you – the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, the firm strength of his body supporting yours so easily. Your legs settle on either side of his hips, and the intimate press of him right between your thighs makes heat bloom low in your belly.
Valko’s arms wrap around you immediately, one hand splaying wide across your lower back, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades to hold you closer. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale, breathing you in.
For a long moment you just stay like that – bodies aligned, hearts beating against each other. Then he gently nudges your face with his, and you tilt your head down to meet him.
His lips move against yours, and when the kiss deepens, it happens gradually – tongues brushing, mouths opening wider, breaths growing a little heavier. The weight of you on top of him, the way your bodies fit together so completely, makes everything feel more intense. You can feel the hard line of him pressed right against your core, and the sensation sends little sparks of pleasure through you with every tiny movement.
Still a little shy, still a little uncertain, you roll your hips in one slow, experimental movement. The friction drags right where you need it most, pulling a soft, involuntary sound from your throat. Valko groans – low, rough, and completely unguarded – the sound vibrating against your mouth. His arms tighten around you instantly, and the way he pulls you down against him makes it clear just how much he felt that.
“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips. “Do that again.”
Emboldened by his reaction, you roll your hips again, grinding down against him. The pleasure sparks sharper, deeper. You can feel every inch of him through the thin layers of fabric separating you, and the way his body responds – the way he twitches underneath you – makes your stomach flutter.
Valko meets you on the next roll. He rocks his hips up into yours in a slow, deep rhythm, pressing firmly against your core with each movement. His hold on you never loosens – he keeps you flush against his chest, bodies moving together in a slow, rolling grind.
The kiss grows sloppier, hotter – tongues slide deeper, mouths open wider, little wet sounds mixing with your shared breathing. You feel his heartbeat hammering against yours.
“You feel so good on top of me,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that, baby.”
Valko’s hands are everywhere. One stays anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other slips under your pajama shirt, palming the soft skin of your back, then sliding down to squeeze your ass. He pulls you down harder against him on every roll, making sure you feel exactly how hard he is.
Then his hand moves between your bodies.
He presses two fingers against the front of your shorts, right over your core. The moment he touches you, you realize just how soaked you are. The fabric is warm and damp, clinging to you, and the pressure of his fingers makes the wetness even more obvious. A flush of embarrassed heat rushes through you, but it only makes you ache more.
Valko groans deeply into your mouth, the sound raw. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs. He rubs slow circles over the soaked fabric, pressing just right against your clit through the layers. The sensation makes your hips jerk, a sharp little whimper escaping you.
He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but there’s a flicker of hesitation there too. His throat works as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice has the slightest tremble in it.
“Still okay?” he asks, fingers still gently pressing against your soaked shorts. He pauses, searching your face. “Can I…?”
You nod quickly, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Please.”
A soft, relieved breath escapes him.
He shifts just enough to reach between you. With one hand, he tugs his boxers down far enough to free himself, his cock springing up hot and heavy against your inner thigh. With the other, he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your pajama shorts and panties, tugging the soaked fabric to the side. The cool air hits your slick, exposed folds for only a second before the blunt, burning heat of his tip presses right against your entrance.
The slight sting of his girth against your sensitive opening makes you inhale sharply. Still, your thighs tremble as you fight the instinct to sink down all at once.
Valko’s eyes never leave your face. His breath is shaky, his grip on your hip almost bruising as he visibly holds himself back from thrusting up.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Just relax… I’ve got you. Trust me.”
He rocks his hips up in the tiniest, careful movement, letting just the head slip inside you. The stretch is intense – a burning, aching fullness that makes your mouth fall open on a quiet, broken sound. You feel every thick inch as he slowly works you open, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every flicker of sensation across your face.
Another shallow thrust, and he sinks a little deeper. His hand on your hip keeps guiding you down slowly, patiently, even as his own breath trembles and a low groan escapes his lips. You can feel how much he’s holding back – the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his cock twitches inside you with the effort of going slow.
He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose, his voice dropping to a whisper between heavy breaths.
“Just a little more… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”
He keeps guiding you with those slow, shallow thrusts, working himself deeper. Each gentle push stretches you further, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl against his shoulders. The slight sting is still there, but it’s slowly melting into something warmer, fuller, more overwhelming.
Finally, with one last careful roll of his hips, he bottoms out completely.
A soft, broken sound escapes you as he fills you to the hilt. Your walls flutter around him, clenching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation of being so completely taken.
Valko goes very still beneath you, breathing hard against your neck.
He whispers your name. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”
You take a shaky breath, then nod against his shoulder, melting a little more in his embrace. “I’m okay,” you murmur, voice soft and a little breathless.
The tension in his body eases at your words. He pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, until there isn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies. Your breasts press against his chest, your stomach against his, your thighs snug around his hips.
“Just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you… all of you.”
You melt into him completely.
He starts kissing you again – first pressing his lips to yours, tender and sweet. Then to your flushed cheek. Then along the line of your jaw. When he reaches your neck, he lingers there, nuzzling into the sensitive skin with a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of you as his lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat. Every kiss sends warm little sparks through your body, making you shiver and clench around him.
You feel completely surrounded by him. He makes you feel soft and safe and wanted in a way you’ve never quite felt before.
After a few long, still moments of just feeling each other, Valko starts to move.
He rolls his hips up in one slow thrust, pressing himself even deeper inside you. The drag of his thick length against your walls pulls a shaky moan from your throat. He does it again, and again – careful but steady, letting you feel every inch as he fills you completely with each roll.
You start moving with him.
Your hips begin to roll in a slow rhythm, grinding down to meet his upward thrusts. The pace is yours, and he lets you set it. Every time you sink down onto him, his cock grazes all the right spots inside you, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through your core. You can feel how wet you are – how your slick coats him completely, making every slide smoother, wetter, hotter. You angle your hips just right so that with every downward roll, your clit grinds against his pelvis. The added friction makes your thighs tremble. Pleasure builds fast and heavy, coiling tight in your belly with every movement.
You can’t stop looking at him.
Even in the low, dim light of your bedroom, he looks devastating. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark with lust, but locked on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. His lips are parted and glistening, soft groans and quiet curses falling from them every time you sink down on him. His hair is slightly messy from your fingers, and the way his jaw clenches when you roll your hips harder makes your heart stutter.
You roll your hips faster, chasing that building pleasure with every grind of your clit against his pelvis and every deep stroke of his cock inside you. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting grow louder, wetter with every movement. Your walls flutter and clench around his thick length, coating him even more with your arousal as the pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.
A broken moan of his name slips from your lips – “Valko...” – raw and needy. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn – you feel suddenly exposed like this, riding him so shamelessly, your voice sounding so desperate, your body moving on instinct. The wave of pleasure is cresting dangerously close, and the intensity of it makes you shy for a moment.
You duck your head, hiding your face in the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you keep rolling your hips.
You know Valko notices. Instead of pulling you back, he cradles the back of your head with one large hand. His voice is full of affection as he murmurs against your ear.
“You can stay right here, sweetheart. Just feel it… That’s it. Come for me.”
His words, the steady praise mixed with the way he keeps thrusting up to meet your rolling hips, push you right over the edge.
With one more deep grind of your hips, your orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure surges hot and overwhelming, ripping a muffled, trembling cry from your throat against his neck. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering. Your thighs shake, slick gushing around him as you come hard, soaking his length and pelvis. Valko groans deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest, and holds you even tighter, his hips still moving with yours – slow, deep rolls that help you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.
Your hips gradually slow, then finally still as the last ripples of your orgasm fade into a warm, glowing haze. You stay draped over him, breathing hard against his neck, your heart still racing wildly in your chest.
After a few long seconds, you finally gather the courage to lift your head from its hiding place. Your face is glistening with sweat, your cheeks are burning, your hair slightly messy as you meet his gaze. You’re still catching your breath, lips parted, eyes a little dazed.
When your eyes lock, the intense heat in Valko’s gaze melts into something more tender. A small, gentle smile curves his lips as he looks up at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The hand that had been cradling the back of your head slides forward to graze your cheek with his thumb, stroking it with slow affection.
“There you are…” he murmurs, voice low and fond. “Hi, pretty girl.”
He searches your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thumb continuing its gentle caress. “Do you want to keep going?”
You feel a sheepish little smile tug at your lips. You nod, still a bit breathless, cheeks warming even more under his attentive gaze.
“Yes,” you whisper.
His smile deepens, soft and warm. “You want me to take over?”
You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, please.”
Valko’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, an almost reverent smile curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you in front of him.
“Just relax for me,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”
After you nod, Valko doesn’t waste another second.
He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss as he begins to move beneath you. His hips roll up in long thrusts, driving his thick cock deeper into your soaked heat with every stroke. One arm stays locked around your back, pressing your chest flush against his, while his other hand keeps your shorts and underwear tugged to the side so he can fuck you properly.
He keeps kissing you through it – slow and messy, tongues sliding together as his pace gradually picks up. His breath grows heavier against your lips, and between kisses he whispers –
“Am I doing good? Tell me… fuck, I need to hear it.”
You’re already losing yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts, the way his cock stretches and fills you so perfectly. The answer slips out of you in a hazy, breathless mumble, half-coherent and soaked in pleasure.
“You feel so good…” you moan, voice breaking. “Fuck – you’re so big… filling me up so deep…”
Valko groans loudly at your words, the sound low and guttural. His grip on you tightens, and his thrusts grow a little harder, a little faster, driving up into you with more purpose. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder as he fucks you deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot with devastating precision.
“Yeah? You like how deep I’m fucking you?” he rasps against your lips, voice thick with lust. “You’re taking me so well… so wet and tight around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”
You whimper at his filthy words, clenching hard around him. He keeps that perfect rhythm, holding you close, kissing you like he never wants to stop, while his cock drives into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.
You can feel him starting to throb inside you, his rhythm beginning to falter as he gets closer to the edge. His thrusts grow a little rougher, a little more desperate.
He must feel how you’re close too, because your hips have started moving on their own, grinding down to meet every thrust. His breath stutters against your mouth.
“You close again, baby?” he groans, voice strained and low. “Fuck… I can feel you squeezing me so tight.”
You nod frantically, whimpering as another wave of pleasure builds fast and hot. “Yes – I’m close… please, Valko, go faster – ”
He clenches his jaw, a deep, guttural sound escaping him as he tries to hold back. His hips snap up harder, but you can tell he’s right on the edge.
“I’m too close,” he rasps, almost apologetic, still fucking you deep and steady. “If I go faster, I’m not gonna last – ”
“It’s okay,” you breathe, voice trembling with need as you roll your hips down to take him even deeper. “It’s fine, just – don’t stop. Please.”
Valko lets out a wrecked moan, his grip on you tightening almost painfully. He buries his face in your neck for a second, breathing you in, then pulls back just enough to look at you with dark, desperate eyes.
“Where can I finish?” he asks, voice hoarse and filthy. “Where do you want me?”
Without hesitation, still grinding down on his cock, you whisper against his lips –
“Inside. I want you to come inside me.”
Valko’s control finally snaps.
With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt in a few hard, fast thrusts. You feel every powerful spurt as he fills you up, warm and wet, his cock twitching deep in your pussy while he keeps rolling his hips in sloppy thrusts, pushing his release even deeper.
The sensation of him coming inside you sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. You’re right on the edge again, but you stay still for him, letting him use you however he needs, your body soft and pliant on top of his as he rides out the last pulses of his orgasm.
Then he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice wrecked and breathless.
“Move, baby… don’t stop. Chase it. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”
You hesitate for half a second, worried it might be too much for him, but he doesn’t let you overthink it. His hands grip your hips firmly and start guiding you, encouraging you to roll and grind on him again.
You nod, eyes locked with his, and start moving.
You ride him through the mess, feeling his warm cum leak out of you with every roll of your hips, slick and obscene, coating both of you. His cock is still hard inside you, but you can feel how oversensitive he is now – the way he twitches and throbs helplessly with every movement, like it’s almost too much.
He meets your rhythm with shallow, desperate thrusts, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His eyes stay locked on yours, heavy-lidded and burning, even as his breath turns ragged and broken.
Valko groans, low and wrecked. “That’s it… fuck, just like that,” he rasps, voice tight and strained. “Come on my cock, baby – you’re squeezing me so fucking tight… Good girl, so fucking good…”
It doesn’t take long.
Pleasure slams into you harder this time. You come with a trembling, broken cry, your walls clamping down around his oversensitive cock as another orgasm rips through you. The feeling of his cum leaking out around him with every pulse makes everything wetter, filthier, messier. Slick and cum mix between you as you grind down on him, thighs shaking violently.
This time you don’t hide your face. You stay right there, eyes locked with his, letting him see every second of it – the way your lips part on a silent gasp, the way your whole body shudders and tightens around him.
“Fuck – yes, baby… look at you,” he groans, voice slurred and desperate. “So fucking pretty when you come… good girl…”
His wrecked praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, drawing out the pleasure for a few more trembling seconds. Then the intense peak of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you utterly spent. You collapse completely on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you try to catch your breath. Your body feels heavy, hot, and spent in the best possible way. Valko’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he stays buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last aftershocks. Neither of you makes any move to separate.
You nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting mix of his skin, sweat, and your own scent on him. His hands move slowly over your back in long, soothing strokes, fingertips tracing gentle patterns along your spine.
For a long while, you simply rest like that – tangled together, hearts slowing down, his warmth surrounding you completely.
Eventually, his voice breaks the comfortable silence, low and gentle against your ear.
“You okay?” he asks, still stroking your back. “Feeling alright?”
You manage a small nod against his neck, too tired and floaty to form proper words. A tiny, satisfied hum is all you can offer.
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you.
After a few more quiet, peaceful minutes, you finally shift. You slowly push yourself up on shaky arms and lift your hips. The moment he slips out of you, a low, disappointed groan escapes Valko’s throat. The sound is so genuine that you can’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.
“We should probably clean up,” you murmur, still smiling.
He nods, but there’s a playful pout in his expression. Before you can move away, he cups your face with both hands and pulls you down into a slow, sweet kiss. It’s softer than anything that came before – gentle, lingering, and full of affection. When he pulls back, his thumbs brush over your cheeks, and his eyes are warm and tender in the afterglow.
“You feeling sleepy now?” he asks, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.
You let out a soft, embarrassed little laugh. The reality of everything that just happened is starting to settle in, making your cheeks warm all over again.
“Yeah… I think I am,” you admit.
He chuckles quietly, but then that familiar warm smile returns as he pulls you back down into his embrace. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head.
“I never want to let you go.” He whispers.
You melt into him again, letting yourself stay there for a moment longer, tucked safely in his arms. As his fingers keep moving gently over your skin, all you can think is that you want more of this – more nights that end with him holding you close, more stolen hours together, more of his laughter, to feel his warm hands, to see his eyes that always soften when they find yours.
summary: in which you’re injured and the lads boys find out about it (kinda).
ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb & valko
notes: suggestive content so MDNI / NSFW, xavier’s a little evil, zayne’s a little silly, rafayel is losing it, sylus is #upset, caleb is caleb, valko is a little dumb but he has the spirit! fem reader (!!!), minor suggestive comments and allusions to violence (is anyone surprised) that’s it (i think).
p.s. first time doing valko i like him as a loser do we also like him or should i delete my account just lmk!
a/n: GULP i rlly hope you guys like this it was fun to make so I Enjoy it but it’d also be lovely if you did too okok…valko my silly nerd…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)
wc 400+ | just a short one. pass through this song, and the vibe made me think of him. cried while writing this short one, turned my grief in here. not proofread!
ᯓ★ dividers by @uzmacchiato!
“Why are you crying?”
You hadn’t realized it until someone pointed it out, with the voice you longed to hear. Valko wasn’t supposed to be back tonight—or you were sure he wasn’t going to come back ever, after everything that had happened.
You weren’t sure how many times you had cried before bed since he left abruptly, to the point of being delusional that he was back right now—back to you.
The world had hurt him, and you had watched helplessly, unable to reach him. As if blocked by the invisible wall, you couldn’t reach him when his ears and tail dropped. Your screams fell deaf, hitting the wall where he couldn’t hear you.
You saw the tears fall from his eyes before he turned his back against you.
But right now, your wolf was just a few steps away from you.
Was this just a figment of your imagination? Was he truly back?
While for him, it was only another trip, except that he had his precious human waiting for him back home this time.
Sure, he couldn’t shake off the harsh words people had said to him—but it pained him more to see you cry for him beyond the invisible wall. He could take the hurt, but not you crying.
He couldn’t hear what you had said back then when he left.
Was it “come back”?
Was it “don’t go”?
Were you simply calling his name?
Valko rushed his trip. He wanted to come back despite the world might hate him more for it. Just to see you with his own eyes, hoping you were fine from his momentary leave.
The walls finally broke down.
You could only choke a sob, the distance now enough for him to engulf you in his arms. You cried out his name, gripping his hoodie. Muttering for him not to leave, his heart cracked at your broken voice.
You weren’t strong enough—you couldn’t bear him leaving, nor could you bear hearing such insults from people who don't know anything about him.
You were hurting for him.
His arms could only hold you close. He nuzzled close to your neck, wanting to wipe away your tears.
“I got you, sweets. Ain’t leaving no more.”
He would let the world hate him, but all he needs is you to be close and be okay.
in light of the situation, i firmly believe he’s coming back to us.
Everything is feeling a little heavy, but that's alright because Valko is heavier.
ABOUT | 2500 words. fluff. pre-relationship. first kiss. UST. self indulgent. emotional hurt/comfort.
"Whatcha watching?"
Your body jerks in surprise, sending your phone tumbling to the floor as your hands come up to muffle the high-pitched yelp startled out of you.
The sound of the cat compilation video echoing through the living room undermines the fierceness of your glare when you turn to face your intruder. That teasing rumble all too close – and all too familiar – to belong to anyone else but-
"Valko," you chide, wishing you could blame the jumpscare when your stomach dips at the sight of his windblown hair and innocent expression so close to yours.
Though letting himself into your apartment like this was nothing new, had become a part of your routine for months at this point, if you're honest, there was something that had been feeling different about Valko's visits to you lately. Less vexing and more… comforting.
An increased awareness of him, maybe? The sound of his voice. His size. The way his laugh and personality managed to fill the room more than his bulky body. Of the way he always tripped over your living room rug or tried to sneak a rub of his scent into every pillow. Of the way he stood so close when he spoke to you, capturing you in the sweet honey of his eyes.
It was something warm that pulsed in your chest, something intimate that had started to hook your gaze to his mouth and magnetize your palms to his skin even today, when you're at your lowest.
His right ear twitches at the sound of his name as he grabs your phone from the floor, a crease of distaste scrunching his nose when he clicks on the screen to stop the noise and tsks, "Looks like my 'dogs are better than cats' speech needs some work."
"Maybe I'll be more in the mood to hear you out–" you take your phone back and set it on the table with a huff, "–when my 'please use the damn front door' speech finally penetrates that thick skull of yours."
A crooked grin scrawls over his face. The pointed tips of his incisors reflecting the dim light of the small lamp you'd flicked on purely to save you from feeling like a complete gremlin while you moped this evening.
"Gonna tell you the same thing I tell Ma every time she says that." He unfurls from the crouching position he'd been in and drops his weight beside you, making your normally sizeable loveseat suddenly feel cramped. "Processing info is for the ears, not the skull."
Resting your cheek in your palm, you narrow your eyes at him with a considering hum.
"What?" Your uninvited houseguest turns to face you, eliciting a concerning creak from the loveseat as his knee comes up to rest on the cushion and his arm drapes over the back. An oversized paw just shy of brushing your shoulder. "What d'you mean, 'hm?'"
"Trespasser, jumpscaring people, terrible manners, and a smart ass to your mother?" You note each transgression by holding up a finger. "No wonder you're always prowling around Linkon alone."
"Hey, hey! Woah, woah, hold on." His hand darts forward, covering yours like it'll hide the evidence. "No– I mean– sure I may be some of those things, but trust me," he puts one of your fingers down and leans forward, another sad groan coming from below the cushion as he rests his elbow on his knee. "I wouldn't be sitting here, or hanging out with you – or breathing – if I were a smart ass to my mother."
Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your lip twitch, the closest you’ve come to a smile all day.
It surprises you how naturally it comes, how much lighter you feel, as you take in his easy grin, his warm palms, his artless gaze. Makes you worry that you're becoming used to this feeling, to something you might be misreading.
"Why?"
"Well, she has this really brutal way of grabbing you by the ear and–"
"No–" the word dissolves on a giggle that has both his ears twitching and an expression you can't quite interpret crossing his face. "I mean, why are you sitting here? Hanging out with me?"
"Oh. I kind of–" He stops, a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he looks down at your still-linked hands. "I mean, I sorta felt like something was… off. With you." You're suddenly glad for the loss of his gaze as he starts to fiddle with your fingers, pressing the pads of his fingers to the tops of your nails as if to test their sharpness. "It's like a.. tug?"
Your mind races with panic as you realize just how much your attraction to him has been tugging at you over his last few visits. "Are you saying that with this– this bond or whatever, you can feel my emotions?"
"Nah, it's not like that." You hope he can't see the stark relief in your gaze when his eyes meet yours again, letting go of your hand to press a palm to the center of his chest. "It's not emotions that call me, it's, well… you. Calling me, that is. Needing me. Or, pulling at me, more like."
Your brows arc upward. "Like a leash?"
His head shoots back dramatically, paired with a groan that sounds almost as distressed as the loveseat still suffering under his weight. "Mercy, little hellion. Let a man keep at least a little dignity." He shakes his head with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "But yeah. You've got me leashed up good. Happy?"
His question is gentle but pointed, hopeful. His frame still leaning over you, an umbrella shielding you from the sadness and negativity that have been pelting you all day.
Your chest warms at the sight, making it all the harder to respond with a sad smile and the shake of your head as the all the reasons you're not happy come flooding back.
"Alright," he says easily, unphased and unrelenting. A considering look enters his eyes. "Just means I've gotta take more drastic measures here."
In a blur of movements you barely have time to process, he turns his back to you, kicks off his boots – an oddly polite gesture that has you reconsidering just how serious he was about that leash comment – and flops backward. The broad span of his shoulders forces your bent knees down to accommodate the weight of his head as it nestles into your thighs.
"V-Valko! What are you doing?" you stutter, heartbeat galloping as the scent of amber and pine and him wash over you. His ear twitches as he takes your awkwardly hovering hands, placing one behind the wolf ear on his right and the other behind the human ear on his left.
"There," he says with a wiggle of his shoulders, like your thighs are a pillow he's nestling into.
When he notices your hands haven't budged, he gives you an expectant look, nudging the sides of his head into your palms until your lips twitch and your fingers start to move.
"This is your drastic measure?"
He hums in response, eyelashes fluttering as your nails scrape gently over a rose-coloured mix of silky hair and plush fur.
"And this is supposed to…" The question trails off but your hands continue.
He shrugs, the heat of his shoulders anchoring your thighs as one of his arms sneaks around your waist.
"I dunno, distract you? Annoy you, comfort you, take your pick." His eyes lock onto yours, sincere, earnest. "Whatever you need."
The combination of his touch and his words act like a stick of dynamite, blasting through the boulder of tension and worry that's been sitting on your chest all day.
You take a deep breath as he sighs in what you instinctually know is relief. And for the first time since he's mentioned this "bond" of yours, you think, maybe this thing goes both ways.
The thought that you might be starting to figure him out as well as he always seems to understand you brings a small smile to your face.
His lips mirror yours. "That's what I like to see," he says, voice low.
You roll your eyes and flick his ear to disguise the way your stomach flips when the praise rumbles through your thighs, flexing them to jostle him and joke, "What? Me being suffocated?"
His finger comes up to tap the end of your nose with a self-assured grin. "Stop pretending you dont like it, I saw that weighted blanket on your bed." You're not sure if it's you or the loveseat that squeaks when he tugs you into his face and nuzzles into your stomach. "Wanna tell me what's got you down?"
There's something about Valko's bluntness, about his willingness to tackle everything head-on, that catches you more off-guard than his casual and abundant displays of affection ever do. It's straightforward, without artifice. And though there's no hesitation in his request, there's somehow no pressure in it either. As if no response you give him could ever result in offense or resentment or awkwardness, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world to tell the unvarnished truth.
So you do.
"It's just… everything? I don't know, it's all piling up. Like, there's work, lack of sleep, friends I'm not keeping up with, not to mention the general state of the world."
You pause, finding his attentive gaze already on you when you look down to see if you're making any sense. He nods encouragingly, the ears on his head twitching in unison like an attentive audience.
"So I guess I've just been thinking about it all and it feels a little overwhelming. Right here." You press a hand to your chest. "And… heavy, I guess. Like–" You raise a pointed brow. "Like getting crushed by a giant mutt on my own sofa."
His jaw drops in dramatic affront. “You– did you just-” He snaps into a sitting position, your loveseat groaning in despair before he points a finger at himself, as if there could be anyone else you were talking about. “Mutt?! Oh you just crossed a line, you hellion.”
Any response you might’ve had morphs into a high-pitched squeal as you’re scooped up by a muscular arm and thrown over his shoulder.
“Valko! What are you doing? Put me down,” you manage through giggles and laughter as he hauls you to the bedroom with what sounds like a muttered 'I’ll show you a giant mutt.'
You land on the mattress with a breathless oomph, the stray laughs bubbling from your throat feeling foreign but welcome as Valko descends over your figure in an army crawl, finally stopping when you're nose to nose.
Your chests meet on each breath as he reaches up to brush hair from your face. His eyes seem more yellow than amber in the dim light, like marigolds, and you can't think of anything more fitting for the resilient, protective man above you.
"Hi," you breathe, grinning wide.
"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, darting a glance at your lips that has your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.
The shadow of his tail swishes behind him as he lowers his weight onto you, fitting his body over yours in a way that anchors and comforts you rather than stifles you.
"Better?" He mumbles into your neck, the heat of his breath awakening gooseflesh over your collarbones. "You know, now that you've made my pedigree your punching bag?"
"Yeah, actually," you realize with a giggle, fingers brushing over the soft bristles of his undercut. "I do."
You haven't laughed this much in a while. In fact, despite being pinned under the heaviest man you know, you haven't felt this light for a few weeks now, you think, which was… the last time he visited you. You close your eyes briefly, mourning the loss of your sanity at the realization that he was right earlier. You had needed him.
"Then listen to me real quick." Your hand slips to his jaw when he raises his head, his smile smaller, his eyes intent. "Next time you feel overwhelmed, or if it's all feeling like too much, you don't have to isolate yourself, or doomscroll, or muscle through it alone. I know I look like I'm all brains but I can help carry things. So just call me, yeah?"
You smile, agreeing with a small nod, pausing before you joke, "With the leash?"
"Okay, who's the smart ass now?" he mutters with a shake of his head, crooked grin back in place. "I meant with a phone. But the leash works too, I guess."
"What's it like?" you ask, curious for the first time since you've learned of it.
"The bond?" His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, a knuckle tracing your cheek. "It's like one of those less traveled paths in the woods. Barely visible to the naked eye, but once you find it and start walking on it, everything starts to feel… right."
"Your chest gets really warm and you have this zappy feeling in your gut." His lips tip up in a faraway smile as his eyes follow the path his knuckle makes over your ear, your neck, your collarbones. "Everything feels possible when it's there. Lighter. And when it's gone? Anything you do feels wrong. Empty."
"But…" You swallow past the heartbeat in your throat. "I thought you couldn't feel my emotions," you protest weakly.
A spark ignites in his eyes, electric enough to charge the air between you as his expression morphs into what you can only identify as a primal satisfaction. He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to memorize the scent of this moment, holding your gaze as his eyelids lower.
"I can't," he breathes, so close his nose brushes against yours when he shakes his head. "Those were all mine."
Your lips part, tongue hovering in wait between your teeth as his palm comes up under your chin, fingers settling on both sides of your jaw to draw you in. Your eyes shut as his lips descend over yours, and despite the warmth of his palm, the first brush of his tongue feel like being doused in flame. You wrap your arms around his neck on a moan, humming when he tilts your head to lick into your mouth again and again.
"Valko." The soft, fuzzy sensation of his buzzed hair grazes your knuckles and he sighs into your mouth, as if you're breathing life back into him with the sound of his name.
You take the chance to nip at his lip, holding it hostage between yours until he answers in kind. The sharpness of his teeth like bee stings on your mouth, soothed only by the sweet honey of a tongue that's licking, tasting, consuming the flushed skin between your lips and your throat.
His body sinks into yours, each of his muscles and contours taking shape around yours like heated metal, a weapon being forged for its master, its weight the heaviest thing you'll ever have to carry again.
➻➻ MASTERLIST
NOTE: They can take my undomesticated wolf man from me in the game but he will live on as a terrible house guest in my delusions forever xoxo
pairing: bf!Valko x gn!reader
synopsis: you wake up from a nightmare where valko disappeared, leaving you alone. thankfully, he's lying by your side when you wake up...
cw: fluff, hurt/comfort ig, petnames, established relationship
wc: 1.5k
a/n: yes this is my way of coping
Valko masterlist (wip!)
Valko was gone.
He had disappeared, seemingly without a trace.
You woke up to an unusually empty and cold bed. So you got up, searching the bathroom instead, calling out to him by the nickname you knew he secretly loved despite acting against it. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You tried calling him or sending him a text, but you couldn’t find his contact in your phone anymore.
So you tried social media, but you couldn't even find his account. Even after looking his username up.
The pit in your stomach only grew deeper and heavier as you rushed out of your bathroom, making your way to your entrance, throwing on the first pair of shoes you could find, grabbing your keys, and leaving. You noted the fact that his boots weren’t at your entrance anymore.
Arriving at his place, you walked up the luxurious modern driveway and pulled out the spare set of keys to his place he’d made for you. But the door didn’t open, or budge. The key didn’t even fit into the lock.
But in your panicked state of denial, you continue forcing the key into the hole, until the door opens from the other side.
You look up, expecting to be met with your 6’2 hunk of a boyfriend. Maybe in loungewear, with his glasses resting low on his nose, a book in hand.
Instead, an older woman looked at you with fear, disgust, and confusion all at once.
“Can I help you?” she asks condescendingly.
You stutter, still shocked.
“If you’re just going to stand there, then get off my property. I won’t hesitate to call the police.” she huffs.
Her property? What the hell was she talking about?
“Go on then.” she shoos you away, closing the heavy wooden door right in your face.
You remain standing there, baffled, before slowly turning around and looking at the cars in the driveway. Three sleek Mercedes’. And Valko’s jeep was nowhere in sight.
Your hands start trembling as you slowly make your way back to your own car. Shutting the door behind you once you sit in the driver’s seat, you pull out your phone again.
You decide to call his aunt. Surely she’d know where he was.
You sigh in relief once she picks up, and immediately ask her about Valko’s whereabouts, without even bothering to greet her properly.
She’s quiet on the other side of the line before speaking. “... Who?”
Your mouth falls agape ever so slightly, and your eyebrows knit together in a frown. “Valko. Do you know where he is? I’ve been trying to reach him all morning.”
She’s quiet again, but this time breaks her silence with a chuckle. “Sweetheart, did you hit your head? Who’s Valko?”
The hand holding your phone up to your ear falls in your lap, as tears start to well in your bottom eyelids.
Although you’re not on speaker, you can still faintly hear the sound of her voice.
“Y/N? Are you still there?” she questions, before laughing again. “I swear if this is another one of your pranks―”
You hang up before she can finish her sentence.
You stare down at your phone, and click on your camera roll.
There are no photos of him. There are no videos of him. Your album of him is gone.
Valko is gone.
Lost on what to do, you break down. The tears instantly stream down your face, hot and heavy. Your heartbroken sobs echo through your car. You fold in on yourself, leaning forward until your forehead rests against the steering wheel. The cries that rip out of your throat only get louder as you close your eyes, blinking the tears away.
The next thing you know, you’re in bed again. The sheets cling to your body due to the sweat rolling down your back. It’s humid, and sticky, and you feel as though you’re suffocating.
You immediately sit up and tear the covers off of you to catch your breath.
That’s when you realize… Valko. Where is he?
Your gaze drops down to your right.
There he is. Lying down with an arm propped behind his head, the other resting on his chest.
You nearly pounce on him, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders and shaking him awake.
“Valko! Come on, wake up, please―” you mutter, your voice raspy and broken as you start tearing up again.
But he doesn’t budge. You pray it’s just him being his usual heavy sleeper self, and continue trying to wake him up.
Eventually, he starts to stir, eyelashes fluttering open.
You stop your motion and stare down at him with wide eyes, and tear streaks adorning your cheeks.
Once his vision focuses and he takes in your appearance, he immediately sits up.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, large hands already moving to cup your face.
But the second you feel his warm touch again, the dam breaks and you sob even more. Your hands move to rest against his own, as you lean into his palms. “I―” you start but choke on your words.
His golden eyes dart back and forth between yours. “Hey, it’s okay, take your time. Use your words.”
You sniffle repeatedly, catching your breath. He continues wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs, remaining silent.
Once you feel more calm, you speak up. “You were gone… you left–you left me.”
Now it’s his turn to frown, but he still says nothing.
“You left. Like you never even existed.” your breath hitches. “I tried calling you but I couldn’t find your contact on my phone—and there was an old rude lady living at your house, and I called auntie to ask about you and she was acting like she didn’t even know you.” you ramble, your words occasionally getting cut off with your sobs and voice cracks.
He lets out the breath he was holding before pulling you in. You immediately bury your face into his chest.
“I’m here, baby.” He whispered against your ear. “You hear my heartbeat? Smell me?” he presses kisses to your head. “I’m right here. Not goin’ anywhere.”
Pressing your ear to the spot right over his heart, you listen to it beat against his ribcage, focusing on the familiar and comforting rhythm. Your crying eventually ceases, and you’re left hiccuping and letting out deep breaths.
His hands continue caressing up and down your back until he feels you’ve really calmed down.
You’re the first to pull away, and you wipe your tears while staring down at your lap.
He notices how distant you look and cups your jaw with one hand to make you look up at him.
“Feelin’ better?” he asks, eyes unusually soft.
You slowly look up to meet his eyes and shrug.
“It was just a bad dream, ‘kay? I’m not leaving you.” He leans down, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Ever.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean up so your foreheads touch, and you breathe him in. You immediately bask in his warm, inviting scent that you swore could wake you up from a coma. “... Promise?”
“I promise.” he whispers against your skin, letting his words sink in.
You look up at him through your wet lashes. He stares down at you in silence, his eyes half-lidded, before slowly and carefully leaning down. You try to meet him halfway and lean into him as well, closing your eyes.
But instead of pressing his lips against your own, he swipes his tongue against the corner of your left eye, licking your tears away.
Your eyes snap back open and you stare at him in shock. “Valko.” you reprimand, yet your voice is soft and still exhausted.
He pulls back, and looks as though he’s deep in thought. “Salty.” he finally comments, the corners of his lips tilting into a smirk.
You continue to stare at him with parted lips. “... You’re gross.” you scoff.
But he’s quick to lean in and lick the tears from your other eye. You yelp, moving away and trying to push him off, giggling in the process.
His hands move to grab your waist, pushing you back against the mattress as he climbs on top of you.
You shield your face from him, arms coming up to hide it.
His fingers slip under your shirt to tickle your skin, making your defenses drop. He takes the opportunity to lean in again and lick an annoyingly long stripe up the side of your face, tracing the tear tracks on it.
Your laughter echoes through the bedroom as your legs start kicking up in all directions. “Valko, enough!”
He continues for a good two minutes before finally stopping. You’re caged between his biceps, staring up at him, while you try to catch your breath. He’s slightly winded too, and some of his hair has fallen on his forehead.
“... I love you.” he mutters.
Your heart squeezes painfully, and you cup his face with both hands, caressing his jawline. “I love you too.” you respond.
He leans down, lips finally pressing against your own.
Reminding you that he was real, present, and that nothing would ever change that.
— lazy mornings with valko make you realize he's not as intimidating as everyone else makes him out to be.
a/n: i am absolutely DEVASTATED after hearing the news about valko's cancellation. i, like many other global players, highly anticipated him and welcomed him to the cast with open arms. while i do acknowledge his character building had some obvious flaws, deleting him as a whole was completely unnecessary!! it is genuinely not that hard to fix his (and the game’s) issues and release him at a later date -- we would have no problem with the postponing if it were for the sole purpose of fixing their current problems, such as lack of endgame content/content for current lis. i am extremely disappointed. until they address this situation, i will be deleting love and deepspace until further notice. do better, infold.
anyways, sorry for the rant. this is not how i wanted to return to tumblr, but here we are. i'm writing to cope about the fact that my werewolf is gone, so colonel!caleb x medic!reader will be pushed back a bit. thank you to my lovely ria (@melancholygypsophila) for giving me all of these ideas, this post is dedicated to you hehe
—> sparkle gif by cursed-carmine!
wc: 1.8k (not proofread) — 🎧 north - clairo
tags: mature content implied; read at your own discretion, valko x reader, fluff fluff and more fluff, and did i mention fluff? valko is super clingy lolol, maybe ooc? idk cuz we don't know much about him and i didn't read/watch much of his card previews. if he IS ooc i apologize !!
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
valko can't name a single time he's genuinely felt at ease. every little thing sets his heightened senses off, and frankly, he's tired of it. tired of worrying his family to the ground for being half-present at every family gathering especially, because he can't help it!
being the CEO of eon-corp comes with many responsibilities (and enemies as well).
but now, as he lies in bed, the smell of coffee fills his nostrils. it's not an unfamiliar scent by any means-- he lives off of coffee. except this time, he's not the one making it. content with this knowledge, he sighs softly.
on one hand, he can't believe the night he just had. but on the other hand, he can. any night that ends with his fated mate in his arms is a successful one. in all honesty, valko half expected to you get up and leave upon waking up, but the sound of his custom espresso bean blend being ground from the kitchen almost tempts him to stay in bed for just a bit longer.
for once, he's not alone.
with a groan, he rises from bed and stretches, the morning sun casting a warm glow across the skin of his broad frame. for once, he's sore. he figures some coffee in his system would do him well.
valko walks down the halls of his penthouse, absentmindedly running his fingers along the once-empty walls. with your soft humming from just a few feet away, the walls don't feel quite empty anymore. but nothing can compare to the way his heart leaps when he sees you.
the dress shirt he hastily threw onto the floor last night is buttoned around your smaller form, hugging you like a warm blanket. he watches as you attempt to reach for the cupboard above you, the fabric slipping off one of your shoulders in the process. valko's breath catches as his eyes land on the bite mark he'd left on said shoulder. his face flushes slightly, but manages to keep himself composed.
without a word, he approaches you from behind, trapping you in between his bare chest and the kitchen's black granite countertop. his large hand wraps around the handle of the cabinet's door, opening it and grabbing a white mug from the stack of dishes.
he also takes this moment to bury his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. valko is convinced your scent is one of the best in the world.
"hey gorgeous," his voice is rough with sleep as he sets the mug on the counter, his free hand landing to rest on your hip. "sleep well?"
you can't help but smile at his outward affection, grabbing the cup. the coffee isn't done brewing, but your hands needed something to fiddle with before your self-restraint broke and did something it was too early in the morning for.
"i slept great," you hum, leaning into his touch by letting your back press against his chest. you inhale, then sigh. his shirt still reeks of the expensive cologne he always puts on, and you have to force yourself to pull away to place the mug inside the machine. "you?"
"amazing," he mumbles, pulling you closer by wrapping his arms around your midsection. valko closes his eyes and inhales the scent of your hair one more time before dipping his head down to bury himself into the crook of your neck. "you're amazing."
the espresso starts pouring itself into the mug beneath it. you watch with rapt attention, ignoring the way your heart starts pounding in your chest when you feel his hot breath against your neck.
"stop it, val," you grin, playfully nudging one of his beefy arms. "i'm trying to make us coffee here."
valko flashes a smile back, unable to help himself from doing so. as you turn around and look up, you catch a glimpse of his perfectly sharp canines looking back at you. it makes you wonder how someone can be so annoying yet so handsome at the same time.
"i see that," he hums in response. "thanks, by the way. i definitely need some right now."
he reaches for the cabinet once more to grab another cup, this time reaching for a black mug that’s clearly gone through multiple rounds in the dishwasher. you raise an eyebrow but make no comment as you reach for the mug under the espresso machine, now filled to the brim with the hot substance.
“of course,” you nod, diluting your espresso with a splash of milk. “i didn’t know which blend you were okay with me using, so i just reached for the fanciest looking one…”
valko laughs at that— a deep, rich laugh that reverberates throughout the walls of his penthouse. it makes your heart flutter more than it should for a man who practically barged his way into your life a couple of months ago and insisted you were his “fated mate.” whatever that meant.
“nah, it’s cool,” he dismisses your hesitance with a wave of his hand before placing his beat-up mug under the machine next. “next time you can just help yourself to any of ‘em.”
you bring your mug up to your lips, then pause, raising your eyebrows.
“there’s going to be a next time?” you ask.
not that you’re opposed to it. in fact, you’re not opposed to it at all. you would love to have a “next time” with the man who made you see stars in bed and cuddled you until you passed out.
valko’s reaction is instantaneous. his eyes widen slightly at the same time his cheeks flush with the faintest hint of pink. you notice the way his ears twitch under his hair, now pointing downwards in embarrassment.
“i—“ he quickly shuts his mouth to avoid embarrassing himself further and instead turns around, pretending to examine the espresso machine. “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but— i mean— if you want there to be a next time…”
he trails off before shaking his head. valko then clears his throat and takes the mug from the machine, finally having the courage to turn back around and face you.
“never mind,” he adds, the composed facade now back in place. “you can forget i said that.”
you suppress a giggle as he tries to brush the moment off, but you can tell he’s still very clearly flustered. but now that your espresso had cooled down enough, you finally bring the cup up to your lips to take a sip.
the liquid hits your tongue with a tidal wave of flavors; the bitterness of the coffee is perfectly balanced out with the slight nuttiness and sweetness from the additives. you understand why this blend is so expensive now.
“i wouldn’t mind having a next time,” you murmur, the response barely audible.
but valko’s perceptive senses hear it. without hesitation this time, his ears perk up instantly, his eyebrows shooting up at the same speed.
“you wouldn’t?”
you nod, setting your coffee down to close the distance between you two with a few strides forward. now, it’s your turn to be shy as you make a move with your newfound confidence.
“i wouldn’t,” you confirm, stopping just inches away from him. as if on instinct, valko’s hands fly to your hips to pull you closer, his body craving the warmth of yours. you don’t protest when he does so. “i’d love it if there was a next time, actually.”
the smile that graces his sharp features in response is one you’ve never seen before.
this was not the valko who happened to stumble his way over to your balcony in the middle of the night, nor was this the valko who put up a good fight with you during your second encounter.
this was your valko, the nerdy werewolf who gets flustered the second you give him any scrap of attention, and the man who had taught you to never judge a book by its cover.
“mm,” he hums in response, not rushing to move just yet. he buries his face into your hair again, and you wrap your arms around his midsection, leaning into the embrace. you’ve never (and still don’t) understood the attracting science behind werewolves and pheromones, but it doesn’t matter to you. as long as he keeps you warm just like this.
“then, a next time there will be.”
pleased, you nod into his chest. the two of you stay like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other’s embrace and surrounded by the bittersweet smell of coffee.
valko continues to nuzzle into you like a man starved, drunk on your scent. occasionally, the tip of his nose brushes a sensitive spot along the curve of your jaw or the slope of your neck, resulting in a giggle and a cute protest (usually “stop!”). but he simply can’t help himself.
it isn’t until you pound at his chest with your fists repeatedly that he eases up, but not completely. one arm still stays wrapped around your waist like a vice while the other rests on the counter as he leans back slightly to get a good look at you.
“nice shirt, by the way,” he muses, acknowledging your attire (or lack thereof) with a slight nod of his chin.
“thanks,” you reply, playing along. teasingly, you run a finger down his chest to gauge his reaction. valko swallows the lump that forms in his throat, but says nothing as your finger continues its journey down his body. “i stole it from you. sorry.”
he flashes yet another toothy grin before wrapping his hand around your wrist and bringing your hand up to his mouth to give your palm a teasing nip. you squeal and pull away.
“it’s fine. but i’ve got other things you can steal too, y’know.”
you raise an eyebrow. “like what?”
“my heart.”
you’re unable to contain your laugh this time, and it leaves you wondering how someone can make lame jokes so charming.
“you’re corny,” you quip, hoping to get a reaction out of him. but he simply shakes his head.
“yeah… but you like it.”
he’s not wrong. you do.
with an amused smile, you cup his face in your small hands, forcing him to maintain eye contact. he raises his eyebrows in surprise, but obeys.
“i do,” you hum, inching your face closer to his. “i like it a lot.”
the color returns to his cheeks again as you lean in, his heart racing in anticipation. this would be the first time you two have kissed outside of the bedroom, and valko is practically salivating for another chance to taste you again.
you lean in closer, and closer, until he can practically feel the warmth radiating off of your lips. and then—
“go make me breakfast,” you whisper. “i’m hungry.”
valko groans playfully but follows your request as he begrudgingly lets go of you, rummaging through the fridge to find only the best ingredients.
he’s not that upset. he knows he’ll get that morning kiss later.
if you haven't already and you want valko back, please sign this petition. thank you. <3
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@alyceres 2026
do not transfer my work to any other platform or feed it to ai. if a post of mine sparks your creativity, please credit/tag me. i would love to read what you write.
Inspired by me forcing myself to take a shower cuz I knew I'd feel loads better afterward. And also inspired by a video I saw ages ago where this person's partner was brushing their teeth for them when they were too depressed to
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"Mmm, you smell good right now, baby," Valko says, voice almost gravely. He rolls some of his weight off of you to nose at your neck, collarbones, shoulder...
"If you sniff my pits, I'll take you to the pound," you grumble.
He chuckles, but his nose travels up once more.
The bed is a mess, because you're a mess. For the last few days, everything has felt awful. Even being forced to drag yourself out to the bathroom is a curse, let alone getting food or water or sunlight. You've cocooned yourself here, your own warm little haven of solitude. Your phone your only companion in these troubled times, showing you endless videos that keep your mind just barely entertained enough to forget everything else.
Unfortunately, Valko hates being forgotten. He hates being ignored. He hates that you've been cooped up all alone in here for so long, rotting away, not telling anyone a word of your dark thoughts and feelings.
Fortunately for him, he knows how to climb to your balcony and let himself in.
He noses at your cheek, trying to coax you to open your eyes and look at him. You hope by pretending to try to sleep, you might deter him. But it won't work, of course.
"When's the last time you had a shower, babydoll?" he asks, but instead of the gravel of intrigue or the light teasing lilt from earlier, this is serious. Soft. Gently prodding at the walls you've built up, looking for the smallest crack.
You grimace. At yourself, at the question, at how pathetic you feel. You turn your face away, further into your pillow. "Hnn, like... three days ago..." you mutter.
He makes a sound. Not judging or disgusted. Just acknowledging. He nuzzles himself into your hair, despite your whines of protest. "You wanna take a shower with me?"
You mull it over for a long while. You know it would make you feel better. Know that he wouldn't shy away from your untamed body hair. And clearly he's not screaming running from the stench...
But the thought of getting out of bed, getting into the water, having to clean yourself off, dry off, get dressed again... God, your body feels so heavy. You curl tighter into yourself.
Though, it seems, in that same stretch of time, Valko came to the decision for you.
He presses a kiss behind your ear. "I'll go get the water running," he says, before crawling out of bed.
You peek your eyes open to watch him move around. He goes into the bathroom and starts the water, giving it time to heat up. He goes into the closet to grab two clean towels, mismatched, because you haven't bothered with laundry. He hangs them both up, tests the water, adjusts it, leaves it alone again.
He goes into your dresser next. You whine your complaints as he sifts through your underwear to find the softest pair. He shoots you a wink as he drapes them over his shoulder. He grabs some of your comfiest lazy-day clothes, too. It takes a moment of searching and rummaging before he finds one of his hoodies. He gives it a sniff and huffs, disappointed that his smell has worn off. But, he adds it to the pile anyway.
"What're you gonna wear?" you ask him. You don't have enough of his clothes here (yet) to build an outfit for him.
He shoots you another cocky look as he steps out of the room, one leg coming up as he leans out of the door, before coming back to the ground as he lifts up a duffle bag. "I came prepared."
You blink at him. "You... Why did you bring your stuff?"
"Isn't that obvious?" He drops it onto the foot of the bed, unzips it, and pulls out a mess of unfolded clothes. He pauses to think for a moment, humming thoughtfully, before he pulls out a sweater, grabs the sweatshirt he left with your clothes, and replaces it. With a satisfied nod, he stuffs the sweatshirt back into the duffle. "My puppy needed me, so I came prepared."
You scoff, hiding half of your face under the edge of the blanket. "I don't need you."
He smacks your foot over the blankets, frowning at you. "Yes, you do. Now," he comes around to your side, reaching under the blankets and hoisting you up, "bath time!"
"Ah! Val- Valko!" The blankets cling to you, wrapped around you from your cocoon. You wriggle, pulling them partway off your bed before you manage to escape from their clutches. Valko just laughs, unwavering, as he carries you to the bathroom.
-
"Show me those fangs," he orders playfully, muffled around the toothbrush hanging from his mouth. His hands are busy loading up your own brush with toothpaste.
You scowl. "I'm not gonna let you brush my teeth."
He sets down the tube and runs a little bit of water over the paste to soften it. Then he turns to you fully and nudges your chin with his finger. "Show me 'em!"
When you continue to refuse, he tries prying your lips apart with his fingers. You bite at them, catching them between your teeth. He laughs, playfully shaking your head back and forth like you're a dog with a toy.
With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you relent.
"Good puppy," he praises, still muffled. With one hand holding your chin, he gets to work brushing your teeth for you. It's stupid. It's weird. It's cute seeing the way he focuses on the task, brows pinched and green foam starting to drool down his chin. He brushes thoroughly, ensuring he gets around your gum line, the back molars, and the other side of your teeth, too.
He's so pretty, you think as you watch him. His hair is flat from the water, cheek pushed out from his toothbrush, skin dewy from stealing some of your lotion... And he came over, broke in, brought his own clothes, just so he could take care of you. Even when you don't want him to. Even when you need to do these things. He doesn't bat an eye at how stupid it all is; how stupid you are for wanting to rot and feel worse.
His golden eyes suddenly flick up to yours. They widen slightly. You understand why when his hand releases your chin to brush away tears from under your eyes. "Wha's wron?" he asks around too much foam.
You shake your head, grabbing hold of his wrist to remove the brush from your mouth. He watches, caught a bit off kilter, as you spit and rinse. When you rise, he's still standing there, looking a bit dumb with your toothbrush in one hand and his still hanging out of his mouth. You can't help but laugh. He looks even more confused when you do, until he glances in the mirror and seems to remember he hasn't brushed his teeth yet. The green foam has gathered at the corners of his mouth, forming a steady line down his chin.
He makes a sound, quickly rinses your brush off and drops it into the cup, and leans over the sink as he rapidly brushes his teeth. You laugh even harder, amused by how intense he looks as he brushes at his fangs. "Shaddap," he gripes, but there's not an ounce of real annoyance or venom in it.
He spits, rinses, and wipes the foam off his face, double checking in the mirror that he got it all. Then he rinses his brush and drops it into the cup beside yours.
You're still a little giggly as he turns back to you, grabbing you in a squeezing hug as he aggressively rubs his cheeks against your head. "You think that's funny, huh?"
"Yes," you admit, hugging him around the waist to squeeze him in return.
He huffs, but he doesn't argue. Just holds you, rocking idly back and forth, as you settle into his arms. After a moment, he settles, too, resting his head against yours without trying to scent you some more. "What were you crying about?" he asks quietly.
You nuzzle into his neck. He's so warm. He smells like his bodywash and shampoo, and a little like your lotion and mint toothpaste. All wrapped up in him like this, you hate the idea of hiding in bed again, surrounded by your cold blankets and own smell. "I was crying cuz... I love you."
"Loving me makes you cry?"
You huff. "No, I mean, like... You came all this way for me. And you didn't leave, even though I was trying to push you away. And I just- I love you."
"Oh." He kisses your head multiple times. "I love you, too. And I'm not done takin' care of you yet. I can hear your stomach growling, puppy. Anythin' you wanna eat, you got it."
After all he's done, food doesn't sound like so much of a burden. You just think of all the amazing food you're craving now. All the things you can have, that you'll let yourself want, because you know he'd do anything to make sure you got it. Anything to make sure his mate is happy again.
He nudges your face away from his neck, pressing his forehead to yours so you have to keep your eyes on him. "Next time you feel like shit, tell me, okay? I'm always gonna be here for you, even if you don't think you deserve it. I like taking care of you."
You're a little misty-eyed as you nod. "I'll try."
"Good." He pulls away to kiss your nose, then under your eye. "Good puppy. Now give me your food order. I'm startin' to think you swallowed a wolf with all that growling."
---
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cw: TEENSY tiny suggestive if you squint??? otherwise just fluff. use of pretty & doll, otherwise gn!reader
when valko turned up on your doorstep, all drenched from the rain, pretty gold eyes sad and pitiful—he made sure his ears were out, too, and downcast for added effect. how could you possibly turn him away?
(although you almost rethink your decision when he shook his head, damp hair sending little water droplets flying across your living room. you sigh, before dragging him into the bathroom to dry him off.)
he waited very impatiently for you to return with spare clothes for him—at least half his wardrobe seems to have somehow migrated into yours—
the furrow in his brows deepens when the bathroom door clicks shut, as you leave him alone yet again so he could change.
once dressed in your silly, matching fluffy pyjama pants and a thin white shirt juuust tight enough to show off the muscles of his chest and biceps, he remains glued to your hip for the rest of the evening.
you get up for the bathroom? valko’s waiting outside diligently, ever the devoted guard dog.
you deadpan. “i hardly see what’s gonna happen to me in all of the couple minutes i’m going to pee.”
valko rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, you’re laughing now, but what if?”
well, at least if you run out of toilet paper, you’re able to call on your boyfriend for help.
head into the kitchen for some chocolate milk? he’s right there with you. strong arms winding around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as you arrange two glasses.
“…val.”
valko hums in acknowledgment, but still doesn’t move. if anything, he nestles his face further into the crook of your neck inhaling softly. tail swishing happily behind him at the sound of your voice.
“val,” you try again. “would you mind letting go a sec so i can put the milk back in the fridge?”
he drums his fingers lightly against your side, as if in thought. “mmm, nah.”
“valko.”
he huffs against your neck.
you turn your head to side-eye him. he remains entirely unfazed by your glare; rather, his tail starts wagging faster. an amused smile playing on his lips, taking pleasure in your annoyance, because it meant your attention was on him.
after many failed attempts at prying his arms away from you, you stare at him harder.
he stares back.
when you raise a brow at him, he eventually lets out a long, heaving sigh. grumbling something about how you're so mean to him, before begrudgingly untangling himself from you. hands up in defeat.
his mood improves instantaneously when you lean up and leave a kiss on his cheek, milk now back in the fridge. "good boy."
cue the tail going wild in the background.
he keeps shuffling closer to you on the couch. you noticed about five minutes ago. he knew you knew. you knew he knew you knew, and yet he continued anyway. canines peeking through in his grin.
pressing pause on the movie, you turn your body towards him. "hi?"
"hey pretty." he inches closer again. he's already half on top of you by now, arms holding himself over you; naturally, you eyes wander. his smile widens. shifting his weight, watching the way your gaze follows the movement in his muscles.
glancing back up at his face, the look he's giving you makes your cheeks warm. "what?"
"like what you see?"
you resist the urge to kiss slap the delighted expression off his face. which only worsened, thoroughly enjoying the way you avoided looking at him entirely, instead looking back at the frozen screen.
"shut up."
he straight up laughs, unswayed. "what was that, doll? you like myyyy..." shifting again, he moves to hold himself up with one arm, the other grabbing your hand. lifting it to drift from his shoulders, his bicep, trailing down his chest all the way to his abdomen.
"c'mon pretty, speak up."
your lips turn down in a pout. "you just want me to praise you again."
valko shrugs, letting go of your wrist. eyes glimmering with mischief. "is it working?"
shaking your head, an endeared laugh escapes you. lifting your many layers of blankets and parting your legs enough for him to slot himself between. only for him to flop--rather unceremoniously--on top of you. you smack lightly at his arm, making a sound of protest.
he ignores it, because he knows you don't truly mind. especially when your hand rises to his hair, still ever-so-slightly damp. threading through the burgundy strands, scratching lightly at his scalp and toward the back of his neck, and he melts.
giggling at the pleased sound that rumbles in his throat, you give into the teasing. cupping his jaw with your free hand, you press your lips against his for the briefest moment. pulling away before he can reciprocate. "unfortunately."
nottt proofread at all again oopsie 💔 n e way ily ty for readint this far <33 any interaction vv appreciated !!! despite tjis being all over theplace LMAO
btw guys i might actually be so delusional but i was drinking chocolate milk and the uuuh bubbles? looked like a paw print is this a sign he’s coming back……. 🙏🙏
