݁˖𝜗ৎ synopsis: a bunny in heat and a wolf more than happy to help.
݁˖𝜗ৎ warnings: mdni, explicit sexual content, wolf kink, eating out, nipple play, slight non-con, omegaverse, heat, knotting, bunny mc x wolf valko
݁˖𝜗ৎ word count: 1.7K
You were more than mad at Valko. He had pulled on your tail without warning, and while usually that wouldn't upset you, you were extra sensitive these past few days. Especially around Valko. Everytime he was near you, his strong oud scent would make your nose sniff the air loudly and your floppy ears twitch. You would clamp shut your thighs hoping your arousal would not reach his nose – it did and worst of all, he tried to act like everything was normal.
He thought you didn't notice how his pupils dilated extra wide when he inhaled your scent. His fluffy wine colored tail wagged without him realizing it. It grazed your exposed skin with every swipe sending overwhelming sensations straight to your core. By the time he left your desk, you had soaked your panties with your slick. It made you feel so ashamed.
You were so desperate for that incident to not repeat itself that you took heat suppressants. Yes, you are heavily aware that bunnies do not go into heat like wolves, but you thought the worst that could happen was it not working. You were so wrong.
The pills made you extremely sensitive to him - to your stupid Valko. He wasn’t even in the room when you could already smell him coming down the hall.
You hide behind your soft ears while rubbing your thick thighs together trying to relieve the burning sensation inside of you. You managed to ignore him throughout the halls of the company. As his assistant, you never left his side, but these were dire circumstances.
He still found you and when he did, Valko pulled on your tail. You could tell he was a bit annoyed at you for ignoring his existence, but it was meant as a playful tug. However, the innocent action made you curl your toes as your arousal dripped down staining your sheer black tights.
You stomp your feet out of annoyance at the memory – a bad habit you couldn’t break.
Now you sit in a clearing deep in Valko’s private woods behind his house. Far away from him and his annoying cocky personality. You unbuttoned the top half of your shirt hoping the cool air will alleviate the heat inside of you. It doesn't. Not while you’re still thinking of Valko.
The incessant heat rushes inside of you; it feels never ending. It is painfully moving inside of you. The pressure to your core has left your clit throbbing and your nipples hard with arousal. You feel as sweat drips down your neck leaving your already thin white blouse almost transparent. You kick off your red bottom heels that happened to be a gift from him.
“Stupid Valko!” you pant, the heat is accompanied by pains that travel through your body to your womb. You continue to strip, the friction of your clothing against your skin is making you crazy.
A low moan rumbles in the back of your throat wanting to escape. How can pain and pleasure be so intertwined? You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, but you’re in so much pain you’re trembling. You’re down to only your underwear, but you can’t seem to unclasp your bra. You need everything off now.
His scent overwhelms your system. From the way Valko presents himself, you’d expect him to smell like luxury and expensive spices, but he smells sweet. His scent reminds you of cosy hot chocolate in the snowy woods. It makes you want to devour him.
“Stupid me, huh?” He crouches down next to you. His tail instinctively wraps around your sensitive skin. You notice his nose twitch slightly as it registers your scent. His eyes travel around your body leaving no part of you unscathed. His gaze feels hotter than the blood inside your veins. “But it’s a little bunny who finds herself in the middle of my woods, naked and in heat.”
You fling yourself away from the beast of temptation that is Valko. Under the rising moonlight, his amber eyes sparkle closer to a golden color. His broad nose is sharp and pointing upwards, it makes your mouth water. You imagine rubbing your slick cunt over his tempting nose. You land harshly on your back. A whimper escapes your lips as Valko stands over you.
“I can help you, moonflower,” his voice turns husky as Valko lowers himself before you. His hands fall on your knees, slowly spreading them. Your skin is illuminated by the lowlight of the moonrise. He pulls you in closer. Your leaking center hits his thighs. “All you have to do is beg.”
He presses down on your stomach hard. It sends sensations of pleasure all over your body. The metal clips holding your bra together are crushed by Valko’s evol, leaving your chest exposed to him.
You glare at Valko as you try to stomp your foot again. Valko grabs you from the back of your thighs and lifts you to his mouth. You immediately hook your legs onto his shoulders. You're at an awkward angle, but all you can focus on is on Valko.
His mouth lowers to your quivering cunt. Your underwear soaked and ruined by your arousal. He places his mouth towards your opening so his nose is hitting your clit. The tiny vibrations caused by his skin and your underwear makes your body lock. Valko notices your reaction and presses the tip of his nose deeper into you. It hits your clit directly. You curl your toes, your hands cover your mouth as you come on Valko’s face.
“I can beg, too,” Valko takes a deep breath. Your cheeks turn bright red creating a sharp contrast between your white hair and floppy ears. You go to grab your ears - another nervous habit of yours, but Valko stops you with one hand. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face when-“
“Valko!” You interrupt him, your nails digging into his hand. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
He whines when you scold him.
“Please, let me help you relieve the pain. Please, my moonflower, ” his tail wags as he stares down at you intensely. He licks the fabric of your panties with slow tongue movements. It lingers for a moment longer near your clit, letting your juices coat his tongue. His eyes never leave yours.
You moan, nodding your head as you notice Valko’s ears pop up. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Valko- ahh,” your voice comes out hoarse. You pant, trying to roll your hips to feel Valko’s nose again, but Valko still has one hand pressing down on your stomach so it is difficult for you to move.
“Use your words,” It’s your turn to whine now as Valko creates distance between your core and his mouth. “You know how I like to hear you beg.”
His voice is thick with lust. You groan in protest - you refuse to give Valko what he wants, but you desperately want to get off. It’ll ease the fire in your veins, the pain in your womb and the increased sensitivity you are currently experiencing. However, that will mean giving Valko what he wants and you are still mad at him. But-
“Fuck,“ the words roll off your tongue before you can processe what you’re saying. “Fuck me, Valko. Please, please, just fuck me.”
With his sharp canine fangs, he shreds the final barrier between the two of you. He keeps you elevated as he digs into you relentlessly. Valko moans when the taste of your flesh coats his tongue. You feel his sharp teeth nibble on your sensitive bud.
You squish Valko’s head between your thighs, the instant relief you feel makes you grind harder against his face. Valko, for all his social popularity, could only do this with you - his mate. He only lowered onto his knees for you, allowing the vulnerability of leaving his tail and ears exposed only for you.
“I want to hear you scream like the good girl I know you are,” The soft skin of your breasts droops sideways. One of Valko’s hands steadies your hips and the other cups your tits with his claws. The sharp keratin slicing your flesh.
“Aah, Valko!” you moan out, arching your back desperate to feel him more.
“Hmmm, so eager,” you can feel him smirk against your gooey center. “I like it.”
“Sh-shut u-up- argh!!”
You reach out for Valko’s hair, gripping it without remorse. You force his head down onto your cunt more until all he can breathe is you. Valko reacts eagerly. He pulls you closer to him, burying his face deeper into you.
His long tongue swipes at your walls slowly at first. He laps up the wetness dripping from inside of you. You feel his warm tongue as he circles your clit, the direct contact is painful, but pleasurable at the same time. His lips wrap around your pearl, his sharp teeth break the skin around it as he sucks your clit.
“F-f-uck,” you groan, grinding your cunt against his face. Valko eagerly responds.
His hot mouth moves against your pussy taking in the flavor of you. You feel a sudden coldness hit your breast as his hand disappears in between you. You expect to feel his fingers entering your weeping hole, but then you hear it: a soft fapping sound. Valko is stroking his dick while face deep in your cunt.
“Agh!”
His other hand is still steading you by your hips. He pulls you closer as if he can’t get deep enough in you. His hot tongue slurps up your juices. Valko releases a deep, guttural moan. He stiffens underneath you.
A pleasurable sensation coats your entire body. Your toes curl and your thighs clench against Valko’s head. Valko groans against your skin as you break for him.
“I’m sorry, bunny,” Valko says before he flips you over. In less than a second you are on your knees, ass in the air bare for Valko to see all of you.
“No, not in-!” He whimpers before slamming his cock in you. You scream out in pleasure as he releases his hot, sticky cum inside of you. You feel it coat the inner walls of your pussy. You feel the base of his cock swell molding you into the shape of him. “Valko!”
You pant loudly. Valko softly lays on your back, kissing the nape of your neck. The hot sensation that was corrupting your body is now gone. Valko covers you with his body as the cold air of the night greets you. His tail wags behind him.
NERD! ZAYNE TEACHING THE GUYS HOW TO MAKE A GIRL CUM USING YOU AS VISUAL AID😝
🔞MDNI🔞
*Yes, this is a fuck you to that bitter anon.
Part 2 here Part 3 here
"They are full of shit" Caleb wiped a stray drop of alcohol from his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at nobody in particular. "The girls on the third floor make up half that stuff for fun."
You were wedged in the middle, squeezed between Caleb and Rafayel on the edge of a mattress that groaned under the collective weight. Every time someone moved, the springs let out a pathetic little squeak. The alcohol was starting to feel like a warm, heavy blanket behind your eyes, blurring the room into soft edges, but it was definitely making you feel a little more brave. Or reckless. Probably both.
You’d know these idiots since freshman orientation. Two years of shared greasy takeout, late night study sessions, and brutal hungover Sundays. That messy stretch of friendship was the only reason you felt comfortable enough to let your filter slip.
"It's not just the third floor," you said, tracing a finger around the rim of your cup. "It's everybody. The nursing majors. The track team. Pretty much every girl I've talked to. They all said the same thing, that you guys look like you belong on a billboard, but fuck like clumsy horny dogs."
"A horny dog? Seriously?" Rafayel looked genuinely wounded. "I am an artist and a very attentive one."
"You think lighting candles counts as attentiveness."
"It contributes."
From across the room, Sylus remained focused on his phone.
"Let them talk," his thumb paused over the screen "The loudest complaints usually come from people who never say what they really want."
You laughed "That's what you're going with?"
Sylus shrugged.
"Fine. Caleb?" he immediately looked suspicious.
"What?"
"That girl from the lacrosse team you fucked last weekend..."
Caleb groaned. "Oh, come on."
"How do you know she actually finished?"
"Because she told me she did."
"And?"
"And she was loooooud."
You stared at him and saw his confidence falter slightly.
"Girls do that so you'll speed up and get it over with"
Caleb opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked toward the window, his jaw shifting. "She... she wrapped her legs around my waist the entire time. That means it was good, right?"
"That means she was trying to get more friction because you weren't hitting the right spots," you said turning your head towards Rafayel "What about you?"
Rafayel straightened. "What about me?"
"When was the last time you actually looked down to see what was happening instead of just listening to the noises she was making?"
Rafayel's face turned a bright pink that extended to the tips of his ears. "I can tell by the rhythm. The atmosphere shifts."
"The atmosphere doesn't make a girl cum, Raf," you laughed, the whiskey bubbling up in your chest.
Across the room Xavier finally lifted his head from the rug, his hair stuck out in every direction.
"I just do it until they tell me to stop."
The room went quiet.
"Xavi, that is not the reassuring answer you think it is."
"Oh." he considered that.
"See?" you said, pointing around the room. "None of you actually know how to make a girl cum, you just assume you did a great job because you're hot, and then leave them to finish the job themselves after you fall asleep."
"That's correct"
The words cut through the conversation.
Zayne didn't look up from his anatomy textbook, he just adjusted his glasses and continued reading for a few more second before lifting his eyes.
Caleb barked out a laugh. "Oh, here we go."
Zayne ignored him.
"Most guys operate on assumptions rather than observation."
"Listen to the expert," Caleb said. "A man whose dating life exists entirely in textbooks."
Zayne's expression didn't change. "I understand the theory better than you"
"Theory?" Caleb repeated.
"Anatomy, Caleb."
"That's a lot of confidence for someone talking in hypotheticals." Sylus teased.
Zayne hesitated "It isn't as complicated as people make it out to be. I can show you."
"Do it." the words left your mouth before you could calculate the weight of them. "Show them."
Caleb sat up straighter. Rafayel looked interested. Xavier was really awake now.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Sylus finally dropped his phone into his lap, his gaze locking onto your face, heavy and unblinking.
Zayne didn't blink either. A dark red flush crept from beneath the collar of his black sweater, staining his throat. He looked at your cup, then at the space between his own knees, his jaw working as he swallowed.
Shit Shit Shit
"We're... we've known each other a long time, this feels like we're crossing a line."
"She asked," Sylus stood, the leather chair groaning beneath him. He crossed the room to slide the deadbolt into place before he leaned against the door and folded his arms. "And the doctor says he has the answers. Let's see a demonstration."
------
The floorboards felt cold under your bare feet. Taking your clothes off wasn't nearly as smooth as moments like this looked in movies. It was awkward, rushed, and far too real. Your jeans caught on your ankles as you kicked them off, your bra strap twisting before you cleared it from your arms.
"Sit here," Zayne whispered. He was now sitting on the edge of the mattress, knees spread wide apart.
You moved into the gap between his thighs. His chest felt warm against your shoulder blades.
Caleb and Rafayel pulled two chairs forward and Xavier stayed on the floor, dragging himself closer until his knees almost touched your ankle.
Before moving anywhere else, Zayne clamped his hands around your waist. His palms felt warm against your skin, holding you steady between his thighs.
"The skin requires warming first, If you touch her when she's cold, the muscles contract. It closes the blood vessels."
His hands slid higher, the friction of his palms catching against your ribcage. He paused when he reached your breasts, using his fingers to lift and shape them without any sudden squeezing. He kept his touch frustratingly light, his thumbs sweeping in slow arcs across the base before flicking directly over the tight tips.
A gasp caught in your throat, slipping out as a sharp breath. You dug your fingers into his knees, squeezing just to keep from writhing away from his hands.
"Are those goosebumps?" Xavier asked from below before reaching out, his hand hovering an inch from your left knee before he dropped it back to the floor.
"Yes, but it's an involuntary reaction," Zayne leaned his head forward, his hair brushing against your earlobe. "It doesn't mean she's cold."
Caleb cleared his throat, looking down at his hands, then back at you.
The sudden loss of Zayne's touch on your breasts made you shiver, his hands already traveling down your abdomen to grip your inner thighs. He parted your legs wide, exposing you to the heavy stares of the room. Under the direct glow of the desk lamp, the skin of your inner thighs visibly trembled.
His knuckles dragged over your outer lips and he stalled there, his jaw tightening as he drew his hand back and stared down at the slight sheen—not nearly enough.
"She’s nervous and that's completely normal. Any friction here would just cause irritation."
"So you're stuck," Rafayel said. He was leaning so far forward his chest rested against his knees, his eyes wide and tracking every movement of Zayne’s hand.
"No."
Zayne brought his hand up to your face and pressed his middle and index finger against your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. The scent of paper vanished under the wet heat of your mouth. "Wet them."
You took his fingers in, tongue curling around them. Zayne watched your lips close around his knuckles, his chest expanding against your back, before he pulled them out with a wet pop, a thin thread of saliva breaking between his hand and your mouth.
"You only need to do this once to get things moving," Zayne explained guiding his wet fingers back down between your thighs. "If a man needs to re wet his fingers or use lube over and over, it means he’s doing something wrong."
He pressed his slick fingers directly against your clit, rubbing an agonizingly perfect circle.
A sharp cry broke from your lips and he rested the heel of his hand firmly against your pelvic bone, using that grounding weight to steady his touch while his index and middle fingers began a slow, testing exploration of the skin surrounding the swollen bud. He moved in light crescent shapes, mapping the outer edges first without touching the center directly.
Your hips moved, trying to force his hand to hit your favorite spots, but Zayne held your waist with his other hand, keeping you still.
"Not yet," his voice was losing its stiffness "Look at how she reacts when I go near it. She's so sensitive right here. Such a good girl for letting you all see." The bastard knew about your praise kink. Of course he knew.
He changed the strokes to a firm downward motion along the sides before gathering the slick that was beginning to coat his knuckles and smoothing it back up. He watched your skin change color under his fingers, his thumb finally making direct contact with your clit, pressing down and tracing a tight, clockwise circle.
Your thighs twitched, knees trying to clamp shut around his arm.
"Don't hide," his thumb switched direction, drawing slow figure eight that dragged across the very top of the bud before dipping into the soft groove underneath. "Let them watch how wet you get when someone actually takes their time with you. You look so pretty when you're dripping like this."
Across from you, Caleb's hands were gripping his own knees so hard the fabric of his sweatpants strained. His eyes were wide and fixed entirely on the gloss of your skin where Zayne’s thumb was slicking the fluid back and forth, finding the exact weight that made your head fall back against his shoulder "She’s... she’s shaking..." his voice sounded rough and uneven.
Rafayel moved to the edge of his seat, his fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt, his face had gone from pink to tomato red "And the color is different..."
"Because the blood is pooling exactly where it’s supposed to," Zayne told them increasing the pressure just a fraction until you let out a broken whimper. "If you change the rhythm too fast, you lose the progress, so find the pattern she responds to, and you stay there."
From the floor, Xavier stared at the small twitches of your hole "She’s pulling in, like she wants to wrap around something."
Sylus stepped away from the door, his hands were out of his pockets now, his knuckles white as he watched Zayne’s fingers spread your folds apart, exposing the wet, pink interior completely "She's begging for it."
Zayne looked up at the four men watching.
"The manual rhythm is only the baseline, the tissue is highly receptive to temperature and texture. Anything you can execute with your hands, you can replicate, and enhance, with your mouth.
He brought his index finger directly to the very tip of your swollen clit, pressing with small, localized prods.
"If you use the tip of your tongue like this," Zayne explained, his finger mimicking the flicking motion against the sensitive bud, making your hips jump, "you target the isolated nerve clusters. It's high intensity and it forces the blood to the surface faster."
He then slid his index and middle fingers tightly together, flattening them against each other to create a wider, smoother surface. He pressed the flat length of both fingers firmly against your entire center, dragging them in a long upward stroke from your entrance all the way up to your clit.
"But when she gets overwhelmed, you switch," Zayne said as he repeated the stroke "You have to use the whole flat of your tongue like this. It dampens the sharp sting of the sensitivity while keeping the heat building. You alternate based on how much she's twitching."
He used his other hand to gently pull your lips apart "Look at the opening," Zayne's breath felt soooo hot against your neck. "When the nerves are active, the tissue swells. It opens on its own."
Behind you, something thick pressed firmly into the cleft of your ass. Zayne was completely hard. His glasses had slid down his nose, but he didn't take his hands away to fix them.
"Zaynie..." you moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder again. The sight of the guys watching you was winding the coil in your belly tighter and tighter.
"Tell them," Zayne ordered, his fingers digging harder into the top of your clit. "Tell them what it feels like."
"It's... it's so good," you sobbed out "I... Zayne, I need...fuck...."
Sylus moved closer.
"The internal contractions," Zayne told them, his words breaking as his thumb worked in a fast circle. "They will milk whatever is inside. Just one finger in. Now. Feel it."
"Now?" Rafayel stammered, his hand shaking as he reached out.
"Now!" you ripped the word straight from your chest,
They moved together, a crowded rush of limbs. Four fingers,all pushed into your wet pussy at once.
Your muscles clamped down in spasms. Caleb let out a low curse, his head dropping against your thigh as you squeezed his finger. "Fucking hell... tight little pussy."
"Keep your fingers still," Zayne's thumb was still holding pressure against your twitching clit while he kept your hips steady against his own shaking thighs. "Feel the rhythm. That's her release."
Rafayel didn't speak, his eyes were fixed on his finger buried inside you.
The silence returned slowly, punctuated only by the sound of you trying to catch your breath. One by one, the fingers withdrew, leaving your cunt open and drooling. You collapsed back into Zayne, your muscles humming with the aftershocks.
Four men stood around the bed, looking down at their wet hands. Zayne was breathing hard against your neck, one hand shaking visibly as he pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.
He cleared his throat, his voice cracking slightly "Are there... any other questions?"
Xavier raised his hand slowly to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the wetness on his knuckle, his eyes completely dark as he stared at your open thighs.
"Yeah," he said "Can you teach us how to make her squirt?"
I gotta get this off my chest and your page felt like the perfect place to say it. Writers like you are ruining fandom spaces, for real. Every time I open this app it’s the exact same setup. Another smut fic pulling thousands of notes while actual storytelling gets completely buried under a mountain of shitty writing, and before your little friends come running to tell you how "talented" you are, let’s keep it a stack for two seconds. What are they even hyping up?
Your whole style is just throwing a handful of cocks and cunts into a paragraph and calling it good writing. I genuinely do not get how people keep gassing you up like you’re doing something incredible. Anybody can write smut to get a quick reaction from people looking for instant gratification. That don't make it good or meaningful and it definitely don’t mean it’s well written. Meanwhile, smaller writers like me are out here spending months building tension, developing characters, and crafting plots that actually go somewhere, and nobody gives a damn. Why? Because readers would rather consume the same recycled shit over and over again instead of supporting people putting real effort into their writing. It’s the exact same thing that happens in the JJK fandom.
The laziest content gets the most rewards while people with actual talent get pushed to the side and your page is a good example of that. Have you ever actually looked at your notes? People just leave a compliment and keep it moving. They just scream, bark, and beg for more smut because at the end of the day, that’s all they're there for. THE PRAISE ISN'T FOR YOUR WRITING, ITS FOR THE CONTENT.
You deactivated before and you should’ve stayed gone. The space would’ve survived just fine without another account like yours and while we're at it, every other big name smut writer in LADS, JJK, and whatever other fandom doing this exact same setup needs to pack it up too. Leave some room for artists who actually care about the story instead of chasing validation from the easiest audience possible.
Keep collecting your little compliments if you want to just don’t mistake them for proof that you're actually nice with the pen.
Damn! Babe who hurt you? Did a smut writer personally ruin your life? there is no way you’re this mad over some fictional characters having sex 🤦🏻♀️
I know. I know. This is different from what was on the list but the idea just wouldn't leave my mind.
7. Fucking Sylus with a pocket pussy. 🔞MDNI🔞
Check out the rest of my Horny Thoughts list here
When you told Sylus about wanting to use a pocket pussy on him while you watched, he didn’t laugh. He just leveled that crimson gaze at you, a slow smirk spreading across his face as if you’d just handed him an easy win. He liked a challenge, but he liked a guaranteed victory even more. To him, you were playing a game you had no chance of winning, walking directly into a trap with a toy in hand.
The air in his room felt like it was vibrating but you didn't look away. You kept your eyes locked on his, watching that smug, untouchable mask of his start to hairline fracture. He thought this was a performance. He thought he was the audience, sitting there in his kingly arrogance, just waiting to be entertained.
Oh, he had no idea.
The sound of your breath hitting the synthetic material felt unnervingly loud in the silence of the room. When you spat, a slick moisture pooling on the entrance, you saw it, the exact moment his predator persona slipped. His jaw tightened, a small muscle leaping in his cheek.
"Is that it?" he rasped, his confidence still there.
He was posturing. He was trying to regain the upper hand by acting unimpressed, but the way his hands gripped the silk sheets, knuckles turning white, veins popping along the backs of his hands betrayed him. He was bracing himself.
Determined to wipe that look off his face, you focused entirely on him first. You leaned over his lap and took just the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let out a low hum, fingers coming up to tangle in your hair, gently but firmly guiding your head, subtly forcing you to take him just a bit deeper than you intended, asserting his dominance.
When you pulled away, you did it slowly. Heavy, viscous strings of saliva stretched between your lips and his cock, bridging the small distance between you.
Sylus stared down at the wet trail connecting you to him, his thumb tracing his bottom lip. He didn't look broken at all, if anything, he looked incredibly amused. "Cocky," he muttered with a dark glint in his eyes. "You think a little spit is going to break me? You're going to have to try a lot harder than that, kitten."
"Let's find out"
The moment the silicone gripped him a sharp hiss escaped through his clenched teeth. You guided the opening over the crown, slowly, inch by inch, watching the material stretch as it swallowed his cock.
Before you could even start a proper rhythm, his hand shot out, wrapping firmly around your waist and with a sudden tug he pulled your body flush against his, trapping you close.
"If you're going to do this, do it right," he whispered darkly, intentionally rolling his hips up, forcing himself deep into the sleeve with a hard thrust that caught you off guard. The wet, loud suction echoed in the room, and he smirked at your startled gasp. "What's the matter? You're the one holding the reins. Act like it."
Pushing past the slight tremor in your hands you gripped the base of the toy and started moving it up and down until the silence of the bedroom vanished, replaced by the sound of wet plastic working against his slick skin. You leaned in closer, crowding his space until your nose brushed his, forcing him to look at you.
"Does it feel good, Sy?" you watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard. "Does it squeeze you just right? Tell me..." you paused, letting the wet friction of the toy do the talking for a second. "Does it feel as good as the real thing? Does it feel as wet and tight as mine?"
His chest was rising and falling faster now, but he refused to give you the satisfaction of begging. His lips brushed against yours without actually kissing you, a torturous tease of his own.
"It's tight," he admitted "But it lacks your warmth. It lacks the way you moan when I'm inside you. If you want to compare, why don't you let me slide out of this plastic and into you right now?."
"No, I think you like watching me use this on you. Does it turn you on? knowing you're just lying there, taking it from me?" you tried to maintain your edge, but your heart was hammering against your ribs "I mean, look at you, you're practically shaking."
To punish your arrogance he stalled your hand, using his strength to freeze the toy right at his most sensitive spot, letting the suction squeeze him while he stared you down. "I'm letting you have your fun. There's a difference. But if you keep playing with your mouth like that, I might have to find another use for it."
"Oh...tsk...you look a little tense, Sylus. Is the big, bad leader of Onychinus getting overwhelmed by a plastic toy?"
That finally did it. His smugness was rapidly fracturing, melting away into a burning desire he could no longer hide behind sharp comebacks. His head fell back against the headboard for a brief second, a low groan ripping from his throat as you twisted the toy juuuust right at the base of his dick. When he looked back at you, the amusement was entirely gone, replaced by a needy hunger that made him look completely undone.
"Enough games," his hand tried to force yours to move faster "I'm done waiting."
You smiled, a slow, triumphant expression that perfectly mirrored his earlier arrogance. "Not yet."
While one hand kept the perfect friction with the toy, you brought the other one down. Using the sharp tips of your nails and the soft pads of your fingers, you lightly dragged them over his heavy balls, teasing the sensitive skin with feather light touches.
His eyes went wide. The contrast between the tight suction on his cock and the teasing scratches below pushed him right to the brink of his tolerance. His hips buckled, his entire body trembling as he fought the urge to spill over right then and there.
"I'll let you cum, Sy, but only if you say please," you whispered, pressing a soft, mocking kiss to his jawline.
He let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, his teeth grinding together as you gave the pocket pussy a fast down stroke "You're...fuck... unbelievable"
You kept him right on the edge, easing off the speed just enough to keep him from ruining himself. He held out for another thirty seconds of excruciating friction, his hips jerking helplessly against the toy, his pride fighting a losing battle against the sensation overloading his senses. Finally, his fingers dug into your thigh, his grip bruisingly tight as the last of his resistance broke.
"Please," he looked up at you with completely surrendered eyes, every ounce of control stripped away. "Please, sweetie... let me cum."
"Good boy," you murmured, giving him exactly what he wanted.
He came with a loud groan at the praise, his body shuddering beneath you in long waves as he emptied himself into the sleeve. The dominant, untouchable aura he usually carried was fractured, leaving him looking wrecked.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked down at the toy in your hand, then up at your face. A lazy smile began to return to his lips, though his voice was still a ruined rasp.
"You had your fun. You got me to beg. But if you think you're getting out of this bed without finding out exactly how much tighter you are than that piece of plastic... you're sorely mistaken. Toss the toy. It's my turn now."
NERD! ZAYNE TEACHING THE GUYS HOW TO MAKE YOU CUM, SQUIRT AND OTHER TRICKS part 5.
Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here
CW: Smut. Oral. P in v. Dirty talk. Jealousy. 🔞MDNI🔞
Your thighs still ached from Wednesday. Thursday you'd walked across campus with your hip cocked wrong, teeth gritted, praying nobody would ask why you were limping. You took the long way to your first class just to avoid the stairs. That took effort. Hiding from Caleb took more.
A week of it now. A week of catching sight of him near the library or across campus and ducking behind whatever was closest. A pillar. A food truck. A cluster of strangers you pretended to know. Once you'd hidden in a bathroom for eleven minutes waiting for him to clear the hallway.
Today was Saturday. Simone's birthday, the one you'd been planning with her for two weeks, color coded playlist and all.
You knew who'd show and who wouldn't. Zayne never came to anything with more than five people in a room; he'd send a gift and a text. Sylus would be there past midnight like the party had been waiting on him, which, in fairness, it usually was. Rafayel was still out of town and Xavier —Xavier had walked you to class yesterday and mentioned that he had a test to study for.
He hadn't brought up Wednesday. Hadn't asked for a repeat. He seemed happy just walking beside you in silence, matching his pace to yours, and that was enough. You were relieved because your thighs couldn't take another round like that. He'd made you cum more times than you could count and you'd blacked out before his second orgasm. You woke up to him wiping you down with a warm cloth, humming something under his breath.
And still. You missed Caleb.
He was the only friend who'd been there since high school, back when he felt like a brother —carrying your backpack when your arm was in a cast, threatening a guy who stood you up sophomore year. Then something shifted senior year, some line neither of you named, and it took root over the summer before college and never let go. He hadn't texted you all week. Not once. Not even a meme, not even the thumbs up emoji he used when he couldn't be bothered to type words. That had never happened before, not even the semester he broke his wrist and had to write messages one finger at a time.
You got to Simone's early to set everything up. Gideon showed up a couple of hours later hauling two bags of ice against his hip and Caleb wasn't with him. That was wrong on its own. Those two attended every party together.
"He's coming," Gideon said, before you'd even asked. "Said he had something to take care of."
The party filled up fast after that, someone's playlist too heavy on bass. You stayed near the kitchen with a cup you angled just right so you could watch the door without looking like you were watching it. By the second hour your stomach had knotted itself tight enough that you'd stopped tasting your drink.
Then he walked in.
Not alone. A girl had her hand curled around his arm, up on her toes to say something against his ear, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned in. He laughed at whatever she said, that laugh you'd have recognized anywhere, head tipping back just slightly.
You didn't stay to see if he'd notice you. Cup abandoned on the counter, bag already in hand, the last thing you saw before you were out the back door was him still bent toward her, listening and laughing.
It was cold outside. Colder by the time you'd cut halfway across campus, arms wrapped around yourself, and ran into Greyson. One of Zayne's friends from pre med, someone you'd shared a class with and one very unfortunate group project. He took one look at you shivering in your thin top and shrugged his jacket off without asking.
"Here. You'll freeze before you make it back to your dorm"
"I'm fine," you said, already pulling it on.
He laughed and fell into step beside you anyway, talking about an anatomy exam he was dreading and his girlfriend's alarming obsession with plushies. Easy conversation that didn't ask anything of you, that let you nod and half listen while your mind kept circling back to the door, to the laugh, to the girl's hand on his arm.
At your door he said goodnight and jogged off toward his building as you went inside to let the quiet close over you.
You tossed the jacket over your desk chair and started peeling off your shoes when your hand brushed something hard in the pocket. Keys. You fished them out, it was a single silver one on a carabiner with a chewed up rubber duck keychain.
Not even ten minutes later, someone knocked.
You smiled, already reaching for the keys on your desk. Of course he'd come back for them. You scooped them up, grabbed his jacket and draped it over your arm and pulled the door open, keys dangling from your fingers before you'd even looked up.
"A bit soon to be giving me the keys to your place, don't you thi—?" it was meant to be a joke.
Caleb stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes went from the keys swinging from your hand to the jacket slung over your arm, and back again. Whatever smile he'd walked up with was already gone.
"Whose is that?"
His voice had lost the party in it. Gone was the easy tone, replaced by something flat that landed somewhere in your belly.
You knew that tone. Dug in. Stubborn. It was the same voice he used when men tried to put their hands on you. You'd forgotten what that sounded like until now.
Something reckless flared up under your nerves. Days of avoiding him and now he was standing in your doorway looking at you like that. You leaned your shoulder into the frame, unhurried.
"Just a friend's," you said, letting the jacket slip a little on your arm so he'd notice how big it was. "He walked me back from the party. It was cold."
"A friend."
"Mm-hmm." You tilted your head, biting back a smile you didn't try very hard to hide. "Nice guy. Gave me his jacket without me even asking."
"Did he?"
"He did." You shrugged, one shoulder, watching the muscle in his jaw tighten. "Very sweet, actually. I might keep it."
Caleb moved, one step, closing half the distance between you, and you found yourself backing up without deciding to.
"What's his name."
"Why does it matter?"
"I just want his name."
"Jealous?" The word came out lighter than you felt. You tipped your chin up, daring him.
His eyes narrowed. "Should I be?"
You didn't answer. You just held his gaze, arms crossed loosely, jacket bunched against your ribs, and let the silence do the talking. You'd meant it as a tease. It landed like a confession.
Caleb's hand caught the door before you could think to close it, and stepped over the threshold like he had every right to be there. The door closed behind him with a heavy sound that cut off the hallway light and the cold.
"You've been running from me all week," he said.
"I haven't—"
"Don't." One word, quiet, and it stopped you cold. "I saw you by the food truck Tuesday. Wednesday you turned around and walked into a building you don't even have class in. Today you bolted out the back door the second I walked through the front." He took another step. You were nearly at your desk now, nowhere left to go. "So don't tell me you haven't been running."
Your ass met the edge of the desk. He didn't stop until there was almost nothing between you, close enough that you caught the cold night air still clinging to him, and under it, the same warm cedar smell you'd have known blindfolded.
"Maybe I like it when you chase me," you said, the teasing thinner than you wanted it to sound.
Something shifted in his face. "Yeah?"
"Maybe."
He leaned in, slow, until his mouth hovered a breath from yours, close enough that if either of you moved even slightly you wouldn't be able to help it. Your heart was beating hard against your ribs.
"Say that again," he murmured.
You didn't say anything at all.
"Maybe I should go find him, thank him properly for lending you his jacket."
"Caleb—"
"What's his name?" A ghost of a smirk, infuriating. His nose brushed yours, and you nearly closed the gap yourself before he pulled back a fraction, just out of reach.
"You're impossible."
"You like impossible." He tilted his head, closing in again, slower this time, until his lips almost grazed yours and then he stopped there too, breath warm against your mouth, watching you through half lowered lashes. "Tell me to stop."
"Stop," you whispered, and it came out all wrong, breathless instead of firm.
"Try again." He was smiling now, a smile that didn't reach his eyes so much as darken them. "Say it like you mean it." he pulled back again, like he had all the time in the world and you had none.
Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt "You're doing this on purpose."
"Obviously."
He came in again, and this time you swore his mouth grazed yours, barely, gone before you could be sure it happened at all. A soft, frustrated sound climbed up your throat.
"Caleb."
"Yeah?" he still hovered there, he needed you to break first.
Fisting his shirt, you hauled him down and crashed your mouth into his.
He groaned like you'd finally given him something he'd been starving for, one hand sliding into your hair, the other gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The jacket dropped from your fingers, forgotten on the floor. He kissed you like the last few days had been sitting in his chest the whole time, like the wait had worn through whatever control he'd been holding onto.
He walked you backward until your knees hit the mattress, and when you sat down hard he followed you down "No more running," he said against your jaw "Not from me."
Your fingers shook, but the urgency in your chest didn't leave room for nerves to win. You caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his torso, and he lifted his arms without being asked, letting you drag it off and drop it behind you. You slid your hands down to his belt and he took over from there, working it loose himself, shoving his jeans down with one impatient kick until he was standing in nothing but his underwear.
The fabric strained. The thick outline of his cock was impossible to miss.
You didn't mean to stare and he didn't give you time to. He leaned over you, pulling your top over your head in one motion, and his hands went around your back a second later, unhooking your bra like he'd done it a hundred times in his head already. The marks Rafayel had left were still faintly there. You didn't notice him catch sight of them, you were too busy working your jeans down, kicking them off.
The room's light hit the bruises on your inner thighs.
Caleb went still. His breathing turned loud and something crossed his face you'd never seen on him before, not once in all the years you'd known him.
"Who?"
It wasn't even a full question. You couldn't answer it. You couldn't even lift your eyes to his, heat crawling up your neck, half shame, half something closer to fear.
His hand found your jaw, careful even now, but firm enough that you couldn't look away from him.
"I'll find out either way"
You said nothing. Your mouth stayed shut, lips pressed together, and he pulled back like he meant to walk away from the whole thing. Panic shot through you and you grabbed his forearm, held on.
"It wasn't a stranger," you whispered.
"Then who."
He was already working through it, you could see him doing it, running through the short list of people close enough to you that this made sense. He didn't need the full story. He just needed a name.
"Rafayel," you said, and then, because there was no version of this where you got to leave it there, "and Xavier."
The color left his face. "At the same time?"
"No." You shook your head fast. "No, it wasn't like that..."
That was as far as you got before he pulled his arm free and stepped back from the bed like it had burned him.
He didn't look at you. He started pacing between your desk and the window, one hand dragging through his hair over and over, like he could pull the thought straight out of his own skull.
"Rafayel," he muttered, more to the wall than to you. "Of course. Probably had you half convinced it meant something, didn't he?" A short breath, no humor in it at all. "And Xavier." He said the name like it left a bad taste. "Quiet Xavier. Too tired for a party, but not tired enough for that."
He stopped at the window, both hands braced on the sill, shoulders locked up tight. For a second he just breathed.
"I gave you space," he said, quieter now, and the quiet was worse than the pacing had been. "After Zayne's, I backed off. Thought you needed space. Figured if I pushed, you'd run, so I didn't." He turned around, and the storm on his face had gone raw underneath. "And they didn't. They just moved into the space I left. Used it."
"Caleb, that's not fair, they didn't—"
"Didn't what?" his jaw ticked. "Know you were vulnerable right after? Because I think they knew exactly what they were doing." He crossed the room until he was close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep his eyes. "Did either of them ask what you wanted? Or did they just take what you were too shaken to say no to?"
"It wasn't like that."
"Then tell me what it was like." He crouched slightly, hands braced on the mattress on either side of you, caging you in without touching you "Because I waited. I told myself slow was better than not at all." His eyes dropped to the marks on your thighs and back up, something dark moving behind them. "They didn't wait for anything."
You fingers curled around his wrist "You're the one standing in my room right now."
Something flickered across his face —not a smile, too sharp for that, but close to one. "Yeah," he said. "I am."
His fury was still there, sitting in his jaw and his hands but his touch when it landed wasn't rough. It was heavy.
He didn't look for unmarked skin.
He went straight for what they'd left behind.
His mouth found your chest first, closing over the fading marks Rafayel had put there, and he sucked —slow and thorough— his tongue working until the skin flushed dark underneath his lips. His. Over the top of someone else's, but his now. When he was done he moved down, his thumbs pressing into the bruises on your inner thighs, pinning your legs open while his mouth found the soft flesh there and bit down soft enough not to hurt but hard enough to mark.
"Mine," he said, against your skin. "Every single one. By morning."
His fingers hooked into the leg bands of your underwear, pulling the fabric taut against you. "Your pretty pussy is already soaking through these."
He didn't take them off.
He dragged his tongue up the center seam instead, one slow stroke, and the friction of it through the soaked fabric hit your clit with a sharpness that snapped your hips off the mattress. He caught you, both hands pressing your hips back down, and then his mouth was on you again, lips closing around the swollen bud through the thin wet cotton, sucking in slow pulls that made your vision blur at the edges.
"I should have been first," he said, against the fabric, his voice vibrating through it and into you. The pressure of his lips didn't let up for a second while he talked. "I'm going to spend a long time thinking about that. How I had years and I waited and now I have to share something that should have been mine from the start."
The build was fast, mean and gave you no warning. You came with your fingers twisted in his hair and his name in your throat, soaking through the fabric completely.
He watched you, gave you approximately three seconds.
Then he pulled your underwear down your legs, dropped them off the side of the bed and his mouth was back before you'd finished shaking — bare now, his tongue flat and heavy against you, licking with an attention to detail that made your spine curl. He used two fingers to spread you open, his tongue pressing into your entrance, drawing back up to your clit.
"When I'm inside your mouth," his breath felt warm against your wet skin "I'm going to make you taste what you do to me." He kept going until you came a second time. This one was quieter and left you with tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, his name coming out in pieces.
He gave you a moment. Not a long one. Just enough to take his underwear off and then his hands grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, guiding himself to your entrance. He pushed inside — just the crown and the first two inches — and stopped there.
The sound you made was filthy.
It was everything you had imagined. The stretch, the fullness, the weight of him just sitting there while your body tried to accommodate it and couldn't decide between pulling him in and pushing him out. He stayed there until your mind went blank and your hands found the sheets and gripped. Then he pulled out.
The emptiness was felt awful.
He shifted up the mattress and settled on his knees in front of your face, fully hard, the evidence of the last few minutes glistening on his skin, and looked down at you.
"Tell me when to stop and I'll stop."
"Don't stop." Your voice had no strength left in it. Just the words, barely above a whisper.
"Open your mouth when I tell you to."
His thumb came down to your lower lip, pressing into the center of it, pulling it slightly down. He watched your mouth part under the pressure "Do you want me inside your pretty mouth?"
"Yes."
He leaned in just enough. Dragged the tip across your upper lip, leaving a hot wet streak against your skin, watching your face while he did it.
"Say it."
Your hands came up to grip his thighs, fingers pressing into the muscle there. "I want to suck your dick."
The exhale that left him wasn't quiet. "Good girl."
He took his time, dragging the head of his cock across your lips, down your cheek and back to your mouth, leaving a trail of pre across your skin that made something in your chest clench with how much you wanted it.
You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You wanted him to see how much you wanted this.
"Open up, sweet girl"
His cock came back to rest against your lips and your mouth opened wider on instinct, the whole talk flashed through Caleb's head in the same second —Zayne's voice, clipped and deeply irritating.
She isn't built like you. Don't push inside when she isn't ready or you'll hurt her throat. She has to breathe through her nose. Don't fight her jaw. Let her drool on it as much as she can, you'll thank me later. It needs to be slow. If you rush it, you hurt her.
His knuckles had gone white against the mattress. He slowed down.
Pressed inside carefully, just the tip, feeling your lips wrap around him and your breath change as your body adjusted. He stopped there. Watched your eyes. Waited for the slight shift in your expression that meant you were ready before he went any further.
"That's it," he managed, his voice mostly gone. "Breathe through your nose. Take your time."
You did. Your hands wrapped around the base, thumbs tracing the veins there while you let the saliva build and run, coating him in a way that made the slide easier and the visual of it more overwhelming than anything else that had happened tonight. You started to move, slow forward bobs that took him a little deeper each time, your tongue working the underside on the draw back.
Caleb made a sound above you that had nothing controlled left in it.
He matched the pace —hips rolling forward in shallow, careful thrusts that tested the back of your throat, a hand in your hair gripping without pulling, his whole body wound up and trembling slightly with the effort of not taking what he wanted at the speed he wanted it.
"You're so—" He stopped, jaw tight, trying again. "Suck it harder. Taste yourself on me. You can feel it, can't you."
You could.
You sucked harder, felt his thighs tense under your hands, felt the groan that moved through his whole body when your lips slid all the way down and your nose pressed into him and you held it there, looking up at his face.
The sight was doing something to him.
Your mouth stretched around him, eyes wet at the corners, saliva running down your chin and onto your chest in slow trails, and you were looking up at him. That was the part that was killing him. You were not looking away, not closing your eyes. You were loking directly at him with a ruined stare while you took him apart with your mouth, and every time he thought he had some grip on his composure you'd do something with your tongue and it was gone again.
He wanted to grip your hair and drive forward and lose his mind entirely.
Not yet. He held still. Let you set the pace. Let your mouth work him at the speed you'd decided on.
"God," he breathed, his head dropping back for a second before he forced it back down because he couldn't look away from you. "I've thought about this. Exactly this. More times than you can imagine."
The tears running from the corners of your eyes weren't distress. He knew the difference. Your hands were firm and steady on his thighs and every time you pushed forward to take him deeper there was a small sound in your throat that sent a pulse straight up his spine.
"That's it, just like that. Keep going just like that and don't stop."
You swallowed around him in response. His hips snapped forward an inch before he caught himself.
You noticed. Your eyes said so.
He pressed his thumb to the corner of your mouth, feeling the stretch of your lips around him. "You're so good at this," he said, the words coming out unsteady. "So fucking good. Look at you taking all of it. Other girls—"
He'd said it without thinking, his brain running three seconds behind his mouth, and he felt the exact moment it landed because your rhythm changed.
Faster.
Your eyes had gone somewhere else —still on his face, but different now, something sharp moving through them that had nothing to do with what you'd been doing a second ago. Your hands tightened on his thighs. Your mouth pushed forward, taking him deeper than you had been, the angle shifting in a way that made his breath leave him all at once.
"Wait—" he started.
You hummed. It wasn't accidental. A low vibration right around the tip of his cock, your throat working, your cheeks hollowed, and whatever sentence he'd been constructing about other girls dissolved completely because his brain stopped producing language.
"I didn't—" He tried again. Failed again. Your head was moving faster now "That's not what I —, I wasn't—"
You hummed again, deeper this time, and took him further.
"Okay. Okay. There are no other girls. There have not been — in any meaningful way — other girls. You are the only girl. You are the only—" His thighs were shaking. "Please, you have to—if you keep doing that I'm going to—"
You didn't stop doing that.
Your hands moved to grip his ass, pulling him forward, inviting a depth that made his whole body seize up.
"You're—" he looked down at you with an expression that was completely gone for you. "You're jealous and you're doing this on purpose and it's working. You've made your point."
You hummed a third time. Longer. Right over the most sensitive part of him. Your eyes were saying everything your mouth was otherwise occupied with.
The sound that came out of him was not quiet. He didn't have time to pull back. He didn't even try.
He came hard, the first pulse hitting the back of your throat without warning, and he felt you swallow — fast and determined— and then the next wave and the next, each one heavier, the volume of it backing up past your lips and running down your chin, dripping onto your chest.
You were watching him fall apart and made sure he knew you were watching.
His thighs were shaking and he was coming back slowly, the room reassembling itself around the two of you.
He looked down at you.
Lips swollen, chin a complete mess, eyes bright and entirely satisfied with yourself.
He reached down and dragged his thumb slowly across your lower lip.
"Other girls do not exist. As far as I'm concerned, going forward, they never did."
Something in your expression shifted. The jealous edge softening into something warmer.
"Good," you said, and your voice was ruined too, something he found extraordinarily satisfying.
He brought his thumb to your lip. "Open."
You opened. He pressed inside, watched you close your lips around it, watched you hold his gaze while you tasted what was on it.
He pulled his thumb back.
"You're going to be the death of me," he said. Just a fact. A fact he was making peace with.
He brought his mouth to yours. Tasting everything, not flinching from any of it.
When he pulled back his forehead dropped to yours "I'm not done," he said, into the space between your faces.
"I know," you said.
"I want to do this right." His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones, "I've been waiting too long to rush it."
Years. Easy laughter. Carefully maintained distance. Him looking at you the whole time with that steady certain gaze that you'd been pretending not to understand.
"Then don't"
He kissed you again. Softer this time. And then he laid you back against the mattress and took his time.
The fight wasn't even that bad, really. You'd been in a mood that day, and all he'd done was try to cuddle with you when you had snapped back at him. He tried to tease you, to calm you down like he usually did, but his emotionally unaware ass had clearly not noticed the difference between pissed and extremely angry.
Now, you were out on a shopping spree.
The shopping spree wasn't the problem. In fact, if it was up to Sylus, he was trailing behind you every day and watching you buy out mall after mall happily, making Luke and Kieran carry all the bags for him while the only thing he held was your waist. He'd sit for hours in dressing rooms watching you spin for him, giving you his undivided attention.
No, the problem wasn't the shopping spree at all. It was the fact that you were using your card.
It was the first time in ages that Sylus actually felt an emotion that was close to... was that distress? He'd given you card after card after card to use whenever he wasn't there, which was NEVER, because he was always there. Always.
So when he saw the bags in your room from the various luxury brands he spoiled you with, he'd just assumed you'd gone to a mall without him to cheer you up. Sure, he'd been a little sulky that he didn't get to come with you, but as long as you felt better and came back to sleep with him in the same bed, he didn't complain.
Yet, when he'd logged onto his financial records to deposit some more money into his card for you, a furrow formed between his eyebrows, realizing that nothing had been withdrawn at all. And Sylus may have been emotionally unaware at some points in his life, but he definitely wasn't stupid.
You knew that you had millions of dollars to spend with just a flick of his black card whenever you wanted to; it was just pocket change to him. He could buy out this whole fucking continent for you and still have enough to stay happy till the day he died, yet you still insisted on acting like a stubborn mule and using your own money, because you knew it pissed him the fuck off.
"Why aren't you using my card, sweetie?" A low voice hit your ears the moment you stepped into the house, dragging along with you a trolley's worth of bags, stumbling under the weight. Whoever said that money couldn't buy happiness clearly didn't live with the boss of Onychinus.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you huffed, watching him take four bags from you with ease, the other hand taking three more to lighten your load.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said pointedly, looking down at you. His voice was still quiet and calm, but the look in his eyes told you he was definitely not happy with it at all. You didn't reply, hauling the rest of whatever you'd bought to your room before Sylus put the bags down and spun you around, hands on your hips.
"Princess," he murmured, thumbs stroking against your hips. "You know I can just deposit all my money into your card too, right?" This was false- he had already deposited money into your card, just not as much as he would have liked to, in case you noticed too soon. You just didn't realise, giddily swiping your card when you saw there was still money inside. God, you needed to be more financially aware.
"As if," you scoffed, and Sylus bit back a smile. You were so oblivious sometimes it was cute. How did you think he got to such a high position without the basic knowledge of bank account infiltration? "And who told you you had permission to hold me again?"
"The six pairs of lingerie you just bought," he purred, leaning in closer. "And the seven more you probably would have bought if you used my card."
"I don't need your card to buy everything," you huffed angrily, poking at his chest and earning an amused eye raise. It was so unfair that he was still so antagonizingly hot even when you were mad at him. It just made you madder.
You knew that. He had told you that he had to leave because staying with you during his full transformation in the supermoon might get dangerous.
You had been telling yourself this over and over again ever since he left. You knew his safety is guaranteed as long as he's with his pack but it still didn't stop you from crying about it at two in the morning, curled in bed with his t-shirt held tightly against your chest.
You didn't notice the balcony window opening. You only know he's back when a familiar warmth settles behind you, followed by a familiar chin nuzzling into your neck.
“You’ve been crying all night?”
And then you're turning, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pressing your face into his neck, kissing his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth and crying harder all while smearing the wet mess of your nose on his face, which was not a very cutesy combination but you were past caring about all that.
"Easy there, princess. I just came back and it looks like you're trying to drown me in your snot."
You snort and immediately wish you hadn't, given the current state of your nose. You hit him, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Shut up, i hate you. I was so scared you'd get hurt or that you'd never come back to me because... because you realised how different i am from you.”
You feel stupid saying that out loud but you were actually scared, scared that his transformation would make him realise just how disparate their two worlds are, and how convenient it is for him to stay away from your kinds.
He turns your face to look at him. "I will always come back to you because I love you." He says, wiping the tears from your eyes, his lips meeting yours in soft feathery kisses. "No matter how much distance the world tries to put between us. No matter what forces decide we don't belong in the same story, I will find my way back to you. Every single time."
His words overwhelm you completely. The intensity of it all makes your body give out, your face falling back into his chest as you cry for an entirely different reason now, hands fisting tighter in his shirt like you can physically keep him here. His arms come around you, holding you like he can't bear the thought of a world where the two of you aren't together.
By the time you pull back to look at him, your eyes are dry, every tear spent until your heart is satiated and only then you notice the scratches along his jaw, the dried blood at his temple you had just been kissing.
"Val, you're hurt-"
"It'll heal, princess. I just need some time.”
"You're weakened right now, it'll take longer, you could get infected and spread rabies to me."
He looks genuinely offended at that. "That's foul. I'm not a dog."
You shrug. "You bite me all the time."
"You steal and sniff my clothes all the time," he says, pointing at the t-shirt still clutched in your hands, "but that doesn't make you a perverted thief, or does it?”
A triumphant smile spreads across his face. But you can't let him win.
"Who's the good boy?" you say instead. "Who wants belly rubs?"
"Me! Me-" His ears pop out, tail wagging before he's even finished the sentence. Then he catches your expression and stops, sitting very still and attempting to look like none of that just happened.
You raise a teasing eyebrow and he pouts, thoroughly defeated.
"Come on, puppy." You're already moving for the first aid kit. He follows, dropping onto the edge of the couch, and despite the pout, his ears are still slightly raised and his tail still wagging hopefully for belly rubs.
Hi. First of all thank you for your reports and for the fanfics of Valko, I read them and I love them. I would like to give you an idea or ask you a favor. Could you make an NSFW Alphabet of Valko? I know you could do a very good one, when you have the time obviously. Take care. 🤗
I hope you know I chuckled maniacally when I read this. Rubbing my hands together like an evil fly. This is a very welcome distraction.
I'm not following the template I see most people use. We creative and freaky in this household. Even if it takes two hours, which it did.
Valko NSFW Alphabet
A — Aftercare
Valko is so sweet afterwards, despite how thoroughly he had ravaged you only moments prior. He'll draw you a bath, make sure you have water and a snack, and massage the soreness from your muscles. He's always clingy and affectionate, but it multiplies by a hundred after sex.
B — Breeding kink
I think we can all agree on this one. Like I've said before, it's not necessarily a conscious choice on his end—he just can't bring himself to pull out. You feel too good clenching around him, so warm and wet and perfect. He can't help but bury himself as deep inside you as he can go.
C — Cunnilingus
He's an eater. He gets off on it, actually. The way you taste, the way you smell, the way you sound when he laps at your clit—it's intoxicating. He could do it for hours. Sometimes, that's all he wants. After a long day, a man his size needs a good meal, after all.
D — Dick
Obviously I have to talk about this. Valko walks like its heavy, and it is. It's long, thick, and he's way too good at using it to make your mind go completely blank. The way it stretches you out leaves you deliciously sore, sometimes for days.
E — Edging
Sometimes it's on purpose, sometimes it's not. He just loves the way you sound when you're right on the edge, the way you claw at him and writhe beneath him. He can't get enough of the sweet little whimpers and moans spilling from your lips. He'll keep you right on the edge for as long as he can just to keep hearing them.
F — Fingering
Oh, how he loves to watch your brows furrow and your lips part when he curls his fingers into you. He loves to feel you clench around the slender digits as his lips trail down the column of your throat. Making you feel good is his greatest achievement, and he never wants to stop.
G — Grinding
You're in his lap, your lips slanting over his as his fingers dig into your waist. He's guiding your hips, dragging them against his lap, groaning into the kiss at the friction. He doesn't attempt to take off your clothes—not yet. He enjoys the tension, the build-up, the way your grip on his hair tightens with each passing second.
H — Hickies
He loves marking you up almost as much as he loves being marked by you. His lips are everywhere he can reach—your neck, your shoulder, your chest, your stomach. His fangs graze the inside of your thigh before sinking in ever so slightly, just enough to leave a noticeable mark. He loves seeing the aftermath, the faint red bruises that mar your beautiful skin. Each and every one is a reminder that you are entirely his.
I — Intimacy
Yes, he's freaky. Yes, the sex is great. But it's more than that. There's an intimacy to being in bed with Valko that's simply unmatched. It's primal, all breath and lips and skin. He's filling every one of your senses at the same time. He's everywhere—around you, above you, inside of you. His voice is low when he murmurs into the crook of your neck, telling you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how much he adores you.
J — "Just the tip"
When he's extra needy, he'll practically beg you to let him put in "just the tip." It's never "just the tip." He'll try—god, he tries so hard to control himself—but he can't resist sinking into you. Your body is like a siren call, and he's all too eager to get dragged into the sea.
K — Knotting
He's a werewolf—of course he has a knot. He tries to be careful about it—the last thing he wants to do is hurt you—but his instincts tell him to sink as deep as he can. It's too much, but so good. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix, his knot swelling just enough to stretch you even further—it's a delicate balance between ecstasy and ruin.
L — Love
Everything Valko does is rooted in love, and he makes it obvious. He doesn't fuck you, he worships you. Your body is a temple for his hands and lips to explore, and your pleasure is nonnegotiable. It's not about sex for him. He doesn't just want your body. He wants you—every piece, every inch; body, mind, and soul. And he wants you to know that he is completely, irrevocably yours.
M — Mating press
His favorite position, of course. He has you practically bent in half, your knees almost to your chest and your hips angled up towards his. His lips linger on the side of your neck as your nails rake across his shoulders, eliciting low, rough groans from his chest. He's so deep, and still your body tries to pull him in deeper—and he's more than willing to oblige.
N — Narratophilia
A fancy word for talking you through it, and Valko certainly does. Your mind doesn't even get the chance to drift. His hands are all over you, his lips and teeth trail down from your jaw to your neck and up again, his voice is low and sultry in your ear. "Doing so well for me, sweetheart. Lift your hips for me. That's it."
O — Overstimulation
It's on accident, really. He overstimulates both of you simply because his body can't stop. His grip tightens, his teeth sink deeper, his thrusts grow deeper and sharper. You've lost count of how many orgasms you've had, and he's already knotted you twice. And still, he just can't stop. His stamina is utterly inhuman.
P — Praise
The words spill from his lips unfiltered and uncontrolled, almost unconsciously. "You're taking me so well, love." "God, you're so beautiful. So fucking perfect." "Just like that. That's my girl." "Fuck, I love you. I love you so goddamn much."
Q — Queening
Another fancy word for face-sitting. Valko loves it—your weight on him, your scent overwhelming him, the way you taste. His large hands wrap around your thighs, forcing you to sit down fully—hovering simply won't do. His tongue laves at you like he's starving, he groans against your skin, his hips buck but fail to find any friction. He swears it's the closest to heaven he'll ever get.
R — Rut
God help you when his rut hits. His body temperature spikes, his gaze sharpens, his senses heighten. He could probably smell you from a mile away if he tried. He's insatiable. His stamina is impressive on a normal day, but during his rut...the only way he's stopping is if you make him. He'll force himself to obey, but his body makes his reluctance obvious.
S — Somnophilia
Consensual, of course. You're just so beautiful when you're sleeping, so peaceful and warm. And you smell so sweet. You'll wake up to his lips on your neck, his arms tight around your waist, his broad chest pressed flush against your back. You're hardly awake when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shorts, but your body knows his, and it seeks him out instinctively.
T — Teeth
Valko's fangs are sharp. He's careful with them, of course—he wouldn't dream of hurting you or drawing blood. They graze your skin just enough to feel like something between a promise and a threat. He notices the way you lean into it, like you're inviting him to sink his teeth into you. The thought makes a smirk tug at the corner of his lips, and he might just oblige—if you ask nicely.
U — Under the desk
The CEO seems rather...distracted during his phone call. Perhaps his secretary didn't make his coffee right, or it might be the stack of paperwork sitting on his desk. However, the most obvious culprit is his mate, who took it upon themself to crawl beneath his desk and help to relieve some of his stress. It's a conscious effort to keep himself from groaning into the phone, but his grip on your hair is more than enough evidence that your distraction is a successful one.
V — Voyeurism
"Touch yourself for me." He's sitting in the chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, nursing a glass of whiskey as his laptop sits untouched in his lap. His glasses only make the glint in his amber eyes more obvious. Sometimes, he simply likes to watch you, to observe you like the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen.
W — Wax
Lotion candles are multipurpose—they're wonderful for massages, and the perfect excuse for him to have his hands all over you. The oil makes your skin slick and smooth, and it's just hot enough to send a shudder up your spine. He buys the unscented ones—your scent is far too appealing to him to cover up.
X — X marks the spot
Valko knows your body like the back of his hand. He made it a point to learn every spot that would make your breath hitch, your heart pound, your toes curl. He could make a map of your skin if he wanted to. His fingers trace your curves oh so delicately, like he's memorizing every inch.
Y — "You were made for me"
As his mate, one could argue that you were, in fact, made for him. But it's more than that. Your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. It's too perfect to be something as simply as fate or chemistry. There's an unspoken language that your bodies speak, and they understand as if it's written into your soul.
Z — Zzz...
Sweet Valko has a habit of wearing himself out. His stamina is godly, no doubt, but even a werewolf reaches exhaustion at some point. Once you're both sated and your limbs are heavy and weak, he'll collapse beside you. He's quick to drift off to sleep, but not before he pulls you as close as he possibly can.
valko and his strange obsession with fem! reader’s hair — drabble, wc : 473, inspired by this artem tweet
Valko has a weird obsession with your hair.
Well— more so its scent. And yeah, you get it, he’s a werewolf and sniffing stuff is a whole ‘nother thing for him.
But it’s very hard to dismiss. Everytime you hangout with him? He sniffs the top of your head, especially cause of the huuuge size and height difference between you guys.
You’re hugging him, he kisses your head, and finds the scent of your shampoo that you wore earlier. You’re sitting next to him? His hands play with the strands of your locks, fidgeting with it. Even when both of you are just talking, Valko almost always has a hold of one of your strands, or just patting your head a lot.
You didn’t mind it, of course. Enjoyed it— even. But still, you cant help but wonder what is sooooo interesting about your hair, out of all things? He pays attention more to your scent rather than your makeup, thats for sure (lol).
“Val, what’s with your obsession with my hair?” both of you are now sitting beside each other on the couch, doing your own activities, respectively, while still enjoying the other’s company. Valko leaning against you and fidgeting with your hair, like always.
“I dunno what you’re talking about, pretty” your boyfriend continues focusing on his work, him being a CEO or whatever. Yet, still fiddling with a strand of yours.
“I’m talking about that, Val. The thing you’re doing right now?” You tap your finger on his hand thats practically attached to you.
“Huh. I never really noticed, actually.” He turned to face you, “I guess it’s because your hair smells good, and soft, and smells reaaaaaally good.”
Valko leans even more, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, and breathing in your scent.
Giggling at his response, “You’re weird, you know that, right?” you patted his head lovingly, raking your nails through the nape of his neck.
“You like me though, so I don't really care.”
“Who said that I liked you?” you teased a little.
He looked up to see your face with those puppy eyes of his, making sure you didn’t really mean that. “Baabe..”, the pout that he formed was precious, really.
“You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Of course I am, silly!”, you continued to laugh and run your hands through his hair.
“Good, don’t say that ever again. My heart almost dropped to my stomach, y’know!” His voice a little muffled from how he’s sinking his face into your chest now.
You hummed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” softly pecking the top of your very much dramatic lover.
And at the end of the day, your question that started this whole interaction was never really answered. Still— you won’t change even a bit of this whole, silly dynamic between the both of you ♡
a/n — take a shot everytime i wrote “hair” LOL, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! i hope y’all enjoyed my take on our beloved wolf :3
“Popcorn and Jump Scares are a Must for a Movie Night”
[Valko x MC - crack fluff one shot]
“What are we watching tonight?”
His voice echoed from the living room and even if she couldn’t see him yet, she could easily picture him wandering around the living room, trying to guess which title she'd picked. Unfortunately for him, she was a sly fox and didn’t add the movie in the list just to keep it a surprise.
“Butter or oil to make popcorn?” She asked instead while she looked through the cupboards for the box. But with the last groceries she had bought, it had gotten further back.
After a couple of failed attempts, she braced one knee on the countertop without much afterthought.
“Hey hey hey-”
The sudden feeling of big, warm palms grabbing her waist made her gasp in surprise, her hands freezing mid-air before she could reach for the box.
“Isn’t it dangerous to climb around like this?”
She rolled her eyes at the playful tease but let herself be picked up and brought down, her sock-clad feet returning to touch the floor.
“Isn’t it more dangerous having a werewolf over?” She titled her head back and grinned fondly when she met his golden eyes narrowing at her witty reply.
A beat passed, and she imagined his fluffy tail swishing in amusement behind him, even if he was in his human form at the moment.
“You’re right. That’s more dangerous…”
He hummed in agreement and decided to avenge himself by tickling her sides.
“Valko- no, hahaha… please, I can’t- breathe… haha…” She giggled as she found herself trapped in his embrace, his chest pressed against her back and his arms secured around her waist.
As if this wasn’t enough, he even leaned his head down to nuzzle his nose into the crook of her neck and playfully pecked her skin with soft kisses.
“So ticklish,” he chuckled warmly and stopped only when he noticed her cheeks red from the fits of laughter and a big smile stretched on her lips.
“That was... unfair,” she scolded him weakly, slightly out of breath, and her hand squeezing one of his arms but she obtained the opposite effect.
Valko tightened his embrace and relished in their closeness for a little longer, his cheek rubbing against her temple in an affectionate manner.
Her belly hurt from all the laughter but her heart felt fuzzy, so she slowly relaxed back against his chest in return.
“You didn’t answer my question about the popcorn…” she pointed out after a bit, her voice soft and quiet, while her thumb rubbed slow circles on his forearm mindlessly.
He tilted his head, a genuine confused expression on his face.
“What was the question?”
“Butter or oil?” She repeated as she rested her head against his shoulder and looked at him, their faces so close that the tip of their noses almost brushed.
She watched his sharp canines nip thoughtfully at his bottom lip as he mulled her question over and then his gaze flitted towards the cupboard, as if he could find a good answer there.
“Can’t we make it with chocolate?” He questioned almost sheepishly.
And she couldn’t help but huff in amusement.
Of course, he’d like chocolate-coated popcorn.
“Alright, we’ll make it with chocolate.” She agreed and received a lingering, grateful kiss on her cheek.
“Is it a horror?” Valko frowned when he saw the movie title on her tablet she had just handed it to him.
“No, it's a thriller.” She corrected him as she took a seat on the couch and grabbed a pillow to hug casually.
“Isn't it the same thing?” He looked up at her from his sitting position on the floor, his finger still hesitating in playing the movie yet.
“Absolutely not.”
She held his gaze with confidence and smiled victoriously as he gave in and clicked play, even though a slight pout formed on his lips. It was obvious that he had expected another kind of movie but he was trying to indulge her anyway.
“Next time you'll choose the title,” she said before the credits rolled into the tv, and Valko nodded enthusiastically at that while he leaned back against the foot of the couch.
But her decision turned against her when the thriller became seriously anxious and distressing. Her courage lowered with every tense scene and as a jump scare disrupted the worrying silence, her fingers clutched tightly the pillow on her lap as she startled.
A loud gasp escaped from her mouth when something clung onto her bare ankle and instinctively she tried to bring her legs to her chest, but the grip wouldn't let her-
Oh.
She broke into a laughter both from the lingering tension and the amusement at the sight of Valko staring at the tv screen with wide eyes, his hand holding onto her legs unconsciously.
“That's it... end of the movie.” He said and with a swipe of his finger, he closed the streaming app right away.
“...yeah,” she didn't retort this time.
They remained surrounded by the darkness for a moment and the uneasiness from the thriller they had just watched made them shiver.
“Stay over tonight?”
“Obviously yes.”
Cuddled in bed with the soft light from the bathroom illuminating the room just enough to make the night feel less frightening, she rested her head on his chest and allowed his presence to ground her.
“No more scary movies,” he murmured against her hair.
People calling Valko wattpad/booktok cringe like we don't have Mr vampire mafia boss who calls you kitten and Mr two faced adopted older brother colonel who calls you pipsqueak. Or Mr god of the sea who literally goes into heat!
