All of my stories can be found on my ao3. I’m too lazy to bring all of my stories to tumblr. As of now I’m only been writing for Love & Deep Space, but I also have fics for JJK, and MHA. I’m currently juggling 5 wips so I’m just trying to go where the inspiration flows!
Please note: You must have an Ao3 account to read them. Ao3 was recently scraped to train ai so I unfortunately had to private my stories.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Drop these off in Master Sukuna’s chambers,” Uraume instructed, handing you a stack of dark red linens. “Place them on the low table when you walk in.”
“Okay,” you nodded as you accepted the stack of silks. You chose not to comment on the way Uraume wiped their hands on their robes after your hands briefly brushed.
“Should I knock or just walk in?”
“He shouldn’t be there right now, so just walk in. He’s attending to personal matters. If he is there, stay silent and keep your head down,” said Uraume, lips etched into a permanent half-scowl.
Although they had never said it out loud, everyone knew that Uraume put Sukuna high above everyone else, followed by themself and then all the servants.
“Of course,” you nodded again, nervous to be sent off into Sukuna’s chambers.
You, along with most of the servants, did your best to stay as far away from him as possible. Keep to yourself, stay out of the way, and do your best to get by.
You’d never even dared enter his private wing of the estate.
“And remember,” Uraume’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “No matter what you do, do not disturb him.”
You’d barely stepped out of the doorway before you heard Uraume scolding another meek servant, already moved onto the seemingly never ending to-do list they filled their days with.
Sliding the door shut behind you, you nervously made your way across the estate. The further you went, the more sparse the servants were, and you only prayed that Sukuna wasn’t there.
It wasn’t a secret that he preferred to be alone. No personal servants, besides Uraume, of course, no advisors, no concubines, not even any family.
Those who dared try to impose themselves on his life often ended up with a few less limbs than the average person.
Your footsteps seemed to echo through the silent hallway. You had finally arrived just outside his bedroom and there wasn’t another soul in sight.
Swallowing your nerves, you tilted your head downward and opened the door.
You stood still in the doorway.
Recalling Uraume’s orders, you kept your eyes trained on your feet until you were sure nobody was going to yell at you or kill you on the spot.
You finally walked two steps over to the mahogony table and quietly set down the linens.
Now what? Just leave?
The silence seemed ever consuming.
Clearly nobody was in the room, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it?
Wrong.
You lifted your head up just enough to sweep your eyes over the expanse of the room.
Large desk, large bed, and–oh, fuck.
Sukuna, right in the middle of the bed, staring at you as he held his cocks in his hands.
Two?
You couldn’t help your eyes from widening, mouth dropped open in a little ‘o’ shape as you processed what you were seeing.
Clearly, your instincts needed sharpening to allow you to just openly gape at Sukuna.
It was just so hard to look away from the way he used both of his right hands to stroke himself.
Two cocks stacked on top of each other, each one thick and dripping.
He wasn’t stopping, even with your staring, and you realize he must’ve just been waiting for you to get the hell out of there.
You must have been staring for a while, because his scoff suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Are you just going to stand there gawking?” He asked, voice low and annoyed.
“N-no! Sorry,” you quickly corrected yourself, bowing your head as you rushed to leave the room.
You turned as fast as you could, hoping he’d decide to let you keep all your limbs if you got out quick enough.
Just as you were a step away from the door, his voice called out to you.
“I didn’t say you could leave.”
That’s it. This was the end.
You paused in the doorway and hesitantly turned around, eyes once again trained on the ground.
“Did someone send you here, or did you wander in all on your own?”
You swallowed. “Uraume sent me to deliver some fabrics.”
“Look up when I’m speaking to you,” he commanded.
You lifted your head up, eyes trained on his face so as to not watch the hypnotizing way he stroked himself.
“That’s better,” he commented dryly, eyes not-so subtly looking you up and down before one corner of his mouth lifted up in a grin. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it a few moments ago.”
“I apologize, Master Sukuna,” you said, ready to get down on your knees and pray for forgiveness if you needed to. “Please forgive me. I didn’t intend to intrude.”
“Hm,” the grin disappeared to be replaced by a neutral expression you couldn’t dissect. “Come here.”
Yup. Definitely the end.
You stiffly walked across the room over to where he was sprawled out on his bed. He hadn’t let up his motions, palms dragging up and down and up and down repeatedly.
“You just couldn’t help your curiosity, could you?” He asked, eyes taking a better look at you as you stood at the edge of his bed. “Stop shaking. If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
As calming as the words should be, they didn’t do much to reassure you of your safety.
He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “So fragile.”
You stood there stiffly, only looking at his face as you nervously awaited your next instructions.
He exhaled in frustration.
“You very rudely interrupted me with your staring,” he said dryly. You opened your mouth to apologize again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Stop. You can help me to make up for it.”
You closed your mouth.
“How?”
He said nothing, simply nodding at his lower half with his chin.
“What?” Your eyes widened, immediately understanding what he wanted your help with. “But–two!”
He raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t an issue when you were gawking earlier.”
“Um,” you were at a loss for words, simultaneously embarrassed and scared for what was to happen.
“Relax,” he huffed. “I’m not going to fuck you.”
That did nothing to help your nerves.
You couldn’t deny he was attractive. Very, if you were being honest with yourself and the nights you shamefully let your hand slip under the waistband of your pants. It’s just that the attractiveness doesn’t cancel out the intimidation and the knowledge of the crimes he’s committed.
“Then what do you want?” You dared to finally ask.
“Start by getting on the bed.”
You blinked, swallowing your pride and finally lifting yourself up on the plush mattress to sit yourself in between his massive legs.
You looked at him for directions.
“You have two hands, use them.”
Breath hitching, you reached a tentative hand out to replace the one covering the cock closest to his stomach. The hand absolutely dwarfed yours.
As you wrapped your hand around his length, you frowned as you realized it barely covered anything and one hand on each would do almost nothing.
Everything about this man was huge.
He must have sensed your thoughts, because he suddenly spoke in that low timbre.
“It doesn’t matter.” Lidded eyes looked down at you. “Do what you can. You’ll have time to learn more later.”
You didn’t dwell on the words, giving an experimental stroke to his cock, flushed red and already leaking down over your hand.
It was captivating.
"They wont bite."
You didn’t waste any time before taking the other one out of his hand and starting to work it.
You heard the amused chuckle rumble his chest above you, but it only encouraged you further.
Biting your lip, you squeezed both cocks gently as you moved your hands up and down in sync.
Every twitch in your hands let you feel every thick vein running along the shafts, both cocks curved downward.
Although you didn’t look away from the mesmerizing mess in your hand, you noticed the way his head started to tilt backwards from pleasure.
You continued to pump them together, more precum spilling onto your fingers every time your fist lifted from the thick bases up to the tips.
Not much longer later, his chest started to rise and fall in an irregular rhythm.
He was even more attractive like this, you thought, eyes back up on his face instead of the warmth in your hands.
You could tell he was keeping himself quiet on purpose. Eyes almost all the way shut, he still let out a few unsteady breaths and you clung onto those breathy sounds coming from his lips.
Everything about this was hypnotizing.
From the way his cocks sat flushed and heavy in your hands to the tattooed muscles along his torso to the way he pretended not to be affected, you took all of it in and kept the memory for safekeeping.
The warmth of him finally spilling into your hands snapped you out of your thoughts. You focused back on that, speeding up the friction on his cocks as he came on your fists.
He hissed, head thrown back against the pillow as your movements spurred him on through his release.
You had a hard time tearing your eyes away from his face, his jaw clenched until the bottom half of his eyes looked down at you.
“Good,” he decided. “Your curiosity is good for something.”
You frowned, but didn’t dare complain to the King of Curses.
“Well?” He asked after a moment, and you sat there dumbfounded and unsure what he wanted you to do.
“What now?”
“Are you just going to sit there like you want a turn, or are you going to clean yourself up?”
“Sorry.” You pulled your hands away like he burned you, face heating up in embarrassment. You looked around the room for something to clean your hands with.
“Use those,” he added, pointing to the linens you originally brought in.
“I just brought these in, though. They take so long to wash.” You sighed, slipping off the bed to use one to wipe your hands with.
“You’ll have to go back to get some new ones, then,” he commented, two arms resting behind his head.
You frowned at the thought of walking all the way there and back again.
𓍼ོ true form!sukuna who lets you ride his stomach mouth.
you straddle sukuna’s broad torso, thighs already shaking as you hover over the jagged mouth splitting across his abdomen. his four eyes gleam with cruel hunger, watching every twitch of your body.
the stomach mouth opens slowly, hot breath fanning over your dripping folds before a thick, ridged tongue drags out, tasting you like he owns every inch.
“go on,” he growls, voice dripping with mockery. “ride it properly. show me how badly that greedy little cunt needs me.”
you sink down with a broken whimper as the tongue pushes inside you, thick and relentless, stretching you open while the mouth’s lips seal tight around your clit. the suction is immediate and vicious, pulling at the sensitive bundle of nerves as the tongue curls deep, fucking into you with wet, obscene sounds. your hands brace on his chest, hips rolling desperately as pleasure slams through you.
it does not take long before your walls clenching hard around the invading muscle.
sukuna laughs, low and dark, the vibration making the tongue thrash even harder inside you. when you try to lift up cause it’s becoming too much, oversensitive and twitching, his massive hand snaps around your wrist like a vice.
sukuna yanks you back down forcefully, slamming your hips flush against his stomach so the mouth devours you completely again.
“where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarls, eyes narrowing. “you started this. now you finish it. keep riding.”
the tongue does not give you any mercy.
it pounds into you faster, twisting and dragging against every spot that makes your vision blur. the lips suck harder on your clit, relentless and wet, forcing another orgasm out of you before the first one even fades.
your thighs burn, body jerking wildly as you sob through the overstimulation, but sukuna’s grip on your wrist is iron. every time you try to pull away or rise even an inch, he drags you right back down, grinding you against the mouth.
“look at you,” he taunts, voice rough with satisfaction. “crying and shaking like a pathetic little toy. my stomach is soaked and you still can’t stop grinding on it.”
this is when a brutal wave hits you, your whole body convulsing as you cum, tears streaming down your face.
the overstimulation turns sharp and electric, every lick and thrust bordering on pain but so good you cannot stop moaning. sukuna’s free hand comes up to grip your hip, helping you move, forcing the rhythm faster and deeper.
you lose count of how many times you tired to get yourself off of him. your voice grows hoarse, legs trembling uncontrollably, slick pulling and sliding down onto his stomach as the mouth laps it all up greedily.
“kuna…” when you go limp, too exhausted to keep moving, sukuna simply uses his strength to bounce you on the tongue himself, wrist still locked in his hold so you cannot escape.
“that’s right. keep cumming for me,” he commands, another dark laugh rumbling through him. “this mouth is not done with you yet. you’ve pissed me off today, no stopping until you’re a sobbing, broken mess who forgets every thought except how full you feel.”
he keeps you there for what feels like hours, the tongue never slowing, the suction never easing, until your mind blanks out completely and all you can do is tremble and take it, trapped on top of him by his unyielding grip.
A Protocore throws you and Xavier two years into the future. You end up on his balcony. Your future selves end up against the glass door 😏.
CW: Smut. Jealousy. P in V 🔞MDNI🔞
Huge thanks to @stardustsirens for helping me with this series! 🧡🧡🧡
Caleb's part here
"Please tell me that's the last one"
The air reeked of burned grass and dead wanderers. You let out a long breath and let your shoulders drop as the last Wanderer dissolved into light that flickered once and went dark.
A few paces away, Xavier had a few hair strands stuck to his forehead and a thin sheen of sweat at his throat, and that was the extent of the damage. Meanwhile you looked like you'd been dragged behind a truck.
"Perimeter's clear," he said, quiet, like nothing in the world could rattle him. He crossed the debris toward you, boots crunching over glass and rubble. "You're bleeding, though."
You looked down. A chunk of crystal debris had opened a gash along your calf and you hadn't even noticed.
"Huh. Didn't feel that happen."
"Let me look at it." He dropped to one knee, taking a bandage roll out of your hands before you'd even fully pulled it from your pouch.
His hands were warm. Warmer than it made sense, given the cold. When he folded the torn fabric of your pants back to get at the wound, his fingers grazed bare skin and something jumped straight up your spine. You bit down on the inside of your cheek so you wouldn't make a sound about it.
This was the problem with Xavier. Some days he fell asleep against your shoulder like it was the safest place in the world. Other days he kept a careful distance between you and answered everything in a polite, unreadable tone, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.
"Does that hurt?" his thumb pressed against the unbroken skin just above it — the touch was not necessary to wrap the bandage.
"A little," you said, watching the top of his head, how the moonlight caught the color of his hair. "Xavier. Can I ask you something?"
His hands didn't stop moving, but his shoulders went still. "Yeah."
"Why do you do this?" You asked flatly, too tired to dress it up. "Sometimes I think we’re... I don't know, really close. And then other times, you look at me like I'm just another Hunter from the Association. It's confusing."
He finished tying off the gauze, stood up and finally looked at you "I just think about things. More than I probably should."
He reached out to help you up, hands closing firm around your forearms.
"Think about what?"
You went to test your weight on the bandaged leg and the ground chose that second to be uneven. You pitched forward, right into him, your chest hitting his. His hands slid from your arms to your waist to catch you.
Neither of you moved.
You could feel his heart going fast under his uniform, which didn't match the calm on his face at all. His eyes dropped to your mouth, came back up.This is happening, you thought, a little dizzy with it. He's actually going to—.
His grip on your waist tightened. Something cracked open behind his eyes, just for a second "You shouldn't stand this close to me"
"Xavier—"
He stepped back before you could get anything else out.
Crunch. Something snapped under his boot.
A white protocore.
He picked it and it suddenly went off with light, a white light expanding outward faster than you could track. The air got sucked straight out of your lungs. Your ears popped hard enough to hurt, and then the ruins, the sky, and everything else was sucked into a roar of wind that yanked you forward like the world had grabbed you by the throat.
You hit something solid and warm.
"Oof — sorry —"
A grunt came from underneath you. You blinked against sudden dark, hands slapping down flat against Xavier's chest. You were sprawled on top of him, legs tangled, face mashed against his neck.
"Oh my god." You scrambled back so fast you scraped your palms on the floor. "Sorry — are you okay?"
Xavier sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, hair falling into his eyes. "Fine. Are you hurt?"
"No, I— " You stopped. Looked around. "Wait."
You weren't standing in the ruins anymore. You were standing on a balcony with black wrought iron railing and a view of city streets that looked oddly familiar.
"Is this our building?" You turned in a slow circle, "Xavier, did you just teleport us home?"
"I didn't teleport us anywhere."
"You definitely did something..."
"I didn't" He was already moving past you toward the railing, scanning it like it might answer a question you hadn't asked yet.
"Okay, well, something got us here," you said, following him. "So if it wasn't you, what was it?"
He didn't answer right away. He crouched by one of the plants, fingers brushing the soil. Damp. Recently turned. "I don't have an explanation for this."
"When did you get so many plants?."
He moved to a small table near, where two mugs sat, both used, one rimmed faintly with lipstick.
"This is kind of freaking me out."
You spotted a newspaper folded beside the mugs and reached for it before he could stop you.
The date on the header didn't make sense. You read it twice.
"Xavier." You held it out to him, throat tight.
He took it, scanning it fast, and for the first time all night something like real alarm broke through his usual calm. "This is two years out."
"Two years." You said it slow, testing the weight of it. "Okay. We're just —somewhere else. Somewhere with your exact view, which is a really specific coincidence, but fine, sure, this is wrong, so so wrong—"
"Calm down."
"Xavier."
"What."
You pointed, wordless, toward the far corner of the balcony, where a lumpy, badly painted bird feeder hung crooked from its hook, one wing chipped clean off. You'd have known it anywhere.
"That's Fatso"s" you said.
Xavier followed your finger, and whatever he'd been telling himself died on his face.
You grabbed for your communicator on reflex. Dead screen. "No signal," you said, more to yourself than to him.
"Mine's the same. Clock's not even holding steady." He pocketed the device "We need to see what's inside. If someone's living here, we ask them what year it is."
"Oh yeah because that is a completely normal question to walk in and ask a stranger."
"Stay behind me," he reached for the handle on the sliding glass door, testing the weight of it without committing to opening it yet. Behind the curtain, something moved.
You froze. Your fingers found the sleeve of his uniform and held on.
A hand pressed flat against the glass from the other side of the curtain, fingers spread.
Xavier looked ready to run.
A second hand appeared beside it. Bigger. Scarred across the knuckles. Something in your chest went cold with recognition even before your brain caught up. The second hand moved to close over the first, fingers lacing through.
There were two people on the other side of that door. And from the way the curtain was moving, they were not just standing there.
"Xavier," you whispered, barely any air behind it at all.
He didn't answer. He didn't move his hand off the door either —just stood there frozen, staring at those hands through the glass like his whole nervous system had collapsed.
Then he moved. His hand closed around your shoulder and pulled, one smooth backward motion that tucked you both into a narrow space where the balcony wall met the building's outer brick. The spot was tight —barely enough room for two people to stand without touching —and the angle it gave you was merciless. The glass door sat directly in your line of sight, lit from inside.
You should have looked away immediately.
But you didn't.
The curtains moved a bit. Two bodies, pressed close. The woman's face was hidden, her head tipped back behind the line of the man's shoulder. His face was visible. Hair catching the light. That jaw.
Xavier
The anger came fast and hot and settled behind your sternum like coal. Months of warmth and then distance. Months of patience that felt like it was always just about to become something and never did —and here was the answer to all of it, pressed against a glass door in an apartment that was still his, two years from now, with someone else.
He was kissing her the way someone kisses when they've stopped being careful about it. Deep, his hands dragging her back against him, the movements of his lower body slow and unmistakable.
You looked away. Focused on a crack running through the middle of the wall beside you. Breathed through your nose.
Beside you, Xavier was still looking. His face was flushed.
"Is that—" His voice came out wrong.
"Yup," you said. The bitterness in it sharper than you'd intended. "That's you"
A sound came through the glass.
The impact of skin against the glass door followed immediately by a broken moan, the sound dragged your eyes back to the glass door against your will.
The curtain had been pulled aside all the way.
The view was now unobstructed.
The woman was pressed flat against the glass, her bare breasts against the cold pane, her hands finding the frame for something to hold onto. Her face was fully visible now.
The anger in your chest went out like a light.
It was your face.
Your shoulders, your hands, the sound of your own voice coming through the glass in pieces, breathless and nothing like anything you'd heard from yourself before. Your future self's cheek was pressed to the glass too, eyes half closed, lips parted around sounds that weren't words.
Future Xavier's teeth found her shoulder and bit down, not gently, leaving something that would be visible tomorrow. His hand came around the front of her, sliding between her thighs to line his beautiful cock against her entrance.
Then he drove forward.
The sound she made came through the glass loud and clear and a small involuntary noise started building in your own throat.
Xavier's palm came over your mouth.
Fast. Firm. His fingers sealing the sound in before it could escape. His hand was shaking.
The glass door shook with the next impact. And the next.
Xavier had his mouth at her ear saying something you couldn't hear through the glass but could read in the way her expression changed when he said it.
Xavier made half a sound against the back of your head and he immediately swallowed the other half.
You felt it anyway. Felt the way his arm tightened across your chest, felt the unsteady rhythm of his breathing where his chest pressed into your back.
You couldn't look away from his face —the future version of the face that was currently breathing against your temple— wearing an expression you'd never seen on him before.
"Xavier," you said, against his palm. Muffled.
His arm tightened.
"Xavier." Louder this time, enough that he could feel the shape of his name against his hand.
His mouth dropped to your ear "Don't move." The words came out rough "If they see us—"
Inside the apartment, your future self pressed her palm hard against her lips.
Future Xavier's hand closed around her wrist.
He pulled it down. He held her hand at her side and kept it there, and when she turned her face toward him he was already looking at her.
He wanted to hear her.
Below you a glass door scraped open.
One floor down, a man stepped out onto his balcony. Cigarette unlit between his fingers, head tilted slightly, listening to the night.
You pressed further into the shadow.
The rhythm inside the apartment changed. Not slower. The opposite. The glass shook in its frame and the sounds coming through it stopped being something that could be mistaken for anything else, and the man one floor down stopped trying to light his cigarette.
You looked at future Xavier's face.
His eyes were angled down and to the left.
He picked up the pace.
She tried again, her hand came up toward her mouth. Future Xavier caught her wrist without looking and his mouth moved against her ear again.
Whatever it was, she stopped trying to be quiet.
You thought about what you'd just watched him do. The escalation. The man on the balcony below. The reason your future self's hand kept getting pulled back down.
Was he jealous of that stranger?
Inside, her feet left the ground. Xavier had both arms around her, her arms caught under his, breast bouncing with every thrust.
You saw it first.
An unmistakable pressure beneath the surface of her stomach. Moving with every thrust. A belly bulge.
Your mouth went dry.
She was dripping. You could see it even through the glass —the inside of her thighs slick and glistening where his movements had worked everything down, coating her skin, catching the apartment light every time he pulled back. The glass had a faint fog to it from her breath, small clouds appearing and disappearing with each exhale.
The deep flush running from her chest to her throat made something in your lower stomach pull tight.
The Xavier beside you tracked every place her body responded to him, her hardened nipples, the way her toes curled against nothing, the flutter beneath her skin that mapped exactly where he was.
Crash
A flower pot.
It hit the floor and you both stopped breathing.
Inside the apartment, silence.
Immediate and total.
Through the glass you watched future Xavier's head come up. No panic in it. No confusion. Just a slow turn toward the sound, his eyes moving through the dark until they found the spot where the two of you were standing.
He couldn't see you. The angle was wrong, the shadow too deep.
He knew someone was there anyway.
His expression went cold and your future self said something against his chest. The curtain moved slowly across the glass from inside and the light behind it went out.
You had thirty seconds. Maybe less.
Xavier crouched beside you. The Protocore looked small against his palm, throwing a faint white pulse between his fingers for just a second.
The glass door began to slide open.
The air changed, the balcony, the broken pot, the man with his unlit cigarette, all of it collapsing into white noise and rushing dark.
You hit the ground hard. Your knees met broken stone, the air was knocked out of you on impact and you spent the first few seconds just existing on the ground.
Xavier landed beside you.
You pushed yourself up to sitting. "So..."
Xavier said nothing.
"That was weird."
Still nothing.
"We were—"
"I saw it" he opened his hand and noticed the Protocore was gone "I was standing right next to you."
"So we're both aware of what we watched."
"Yes."
"And we're not going to talk about it?"
He looked at you. "Are you going to be able to not talk about it?"
"Probably not."
He made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh, stood up and offered you a hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and didn't immediately let go.
"That man on the balcony," you said.
Xavier's jaw moved. "What about him."
"Future you saw him and then—"
"I know what he did." He dropped your hand. Turned to look at anything that wasn't your face. "You don't need to walk me through it."
"I'm just—" You pressed your lips together, trying very hard not to smile, it felt inappropriate and also completely unavoidable "Was he showing off?"
"We're not talking about that."
"Xavier—"
"Not yet." He said it quietly. Just a line in the ground, clearly drawn. "Not tonight. There's—" He exhaled. "There's a lot I need to sit with before I talk about any of it."
You nodded. That felt fair.
You started walking, picking your way back through the rubble toward the gap in the wall where you'd come in, and Xavier fell into step beside you like he always did —slightly behind, slightly to your left, a position that meant he could see everything around you before you could.
The walk back was quiet. You were almost at the gap in the wall when he spoke.
"Can I ask you something."
"Go ahead."
He was quiet for a beat. Just long enough that you glanced over at him.
"Future me?" he said. "Or me?"
You stopped walking. "What?"
"You heard me. Who do you like more?
"Xavier, that's not—you are the same person—"
"Future me is two years ahead and has information I don't have and he was doing—" a small pause, "—things to you that I have not yet done. So. Future me or me?"
You stared at him.
He stared back.
"That is the most ridiculous question you've ever asked me"
"Humor me."
"You"
Something in his face changed.
"Good," he said.
"But future you did have his—"
The not quite smile disappeared. "We're going home," he said, and turned toward the gap in the wall.
You followed him, and you were very glad he was walking ahead of you this time because the smile on your face was not something you were ready to explain.
cw masturbating on call 🍋🟩 disclaimer this is a tweaked repost from my old account :-)
Bzzt, bzzt. Bzzt, bzzt.
"Hello?" You groggily turn to lay on your back as you press the phone to your ear, staring up at the ceiling and blinking until the fuzziness in your vision disappears. "Zayne?"
His voice sends a pleasant wave of warmth through your bones. "Yes, it's me. Did I wake you, darling?"
A door clicks shut on his end. He must've just gotten home. You squint at the time, noting it's a little past three in the morning.
"No," you lie, grinning lazily when Zayne only scoffs.
The steady, sure stream of a faucet running lets you know he's in the bathroom beginning to wind down for the night. You hum in response to his stories from the day's work, details about upcoming surgeries and how his patients have been. To anyone else, he may as well be reading a shopping list for groceries, but you pick up on his strained tone and the heavy sighs he lets out between anecdotes.
You wait until you're certain he's settled in bed before you make your move. "You've been stressed the entire week. I wish there was something I could do to help."
"You're doing everything just right, sweetheart," comes his sweet, soft mumble. "Calling you… I've missed your voice, incredibly so. I couldn't wait to get home."
There's a small smirk playing on your face, knowing exactly what path this conversation is about to go down.
"Careful, doctor," you singsong. "With that tone of yours, it almost sounds like you've been excited about this all day."
He picks up on what you're insinuating immediately, tone shifting to something more husky when he replies. It makes your stomach do a somersault.
"Oh? You wouldn't exactly be wrong to say such a thing, darling. It seems not just me, but my body in its entirety, has been aching for you."
Your thighs instinctively clench when his voice drops an octave. You can imagine the moments before he called so perfectly—Zayne, stumbling out of his car, painfully hard and phone in hand, eager to call you the second he steps through the threshold of his home. Zayne, biting his lip to stop the groans spilling out while he washes his hands and face, listening intently to the sound of your labored breathing over the phone line. Zayne, slipping into nothing but gray sweatpants that darken immediately from his pre, who still insists on trying to talk to you somewhat normally despite his weeping cock.
And Zayne, who falls apart the moment you breath a whiny, "Me too, pretty boy. Missed you so much."
It doesn't take long for his moans to be all that fills your brain, your loud cries spurring on his filthy mouth as he thrusts up into his fist like his life depends on it.
"Darling, o-ohh... darling. This—this was your plan all along, wasn't it? Nghh... you vixen..."
A third finger squeezes its way into your pussy, and you out a whimper. "J—just, hic, just missed you soo much, need your fingers, need your—mmpff!—big cock!"
The stretch is delicious, and Zayne's throaty groan at your words is doing nothing to stop the tightening coil low in your gut, hot and taut and ready to burst. Your thumb flicks at your clit and you arch your back, swearing that you can see white spots at the edge of your vision—
"W-wait, da—oohhh—darling," he pants. "Stop. Stop touching yourself."
You whine incessantly but pull your fingers away, crying softly into your phone's mic. "Noooo… m'soooooooo close… Zayne, not fair…"
So far gone, you fail to register the scuffling of clothes before a door is slammed shut—loudly, hurriedly. Keys jingle, and your lashes flutter as you try to make out what your boyfriend is doing and why it's not talking you through an orgasm.
"Give me ten minutes, sweetheart." Zayne's voice is raw from moaning, a fact that has slick drooling out of your empty cunt. "I'm not able to wait until tomorrow, so tonight it is."
"B-but—"
"No touching," he commands. "Not until I get there and you can cream around my cock like you were made to do."
You and Caleb are accidentally hurled two years into the future, straight into his apartment. Trapped in a closet, you’re forced to watch your future selves fuck like they’ve been starving for each other.
The art that inspired this fic: https://x.com/i/status/2077008975359525093
The heat at Grandma's house during peak summer was its own particular brand of suffering. It wasn't the same as the sharp dry heat of the city, this was heavy and wet and it made the air taste like cut grass and warm concrete. By ten in the morning you'd already sweated through your first shirt. By noon you'd given up on doing anything productive.
Which was how you and Caleb ended up in the kitchen at two in the afternoon, arguing about stupid stuff, because there was nothing else to do.
"We're out of green onions," he announced with his head inside the fridge. "And ginger. Grandma said we have to buy soy sauce and it has to be the right brand."
"Which brand?"
He turned around with an expression that said he had absolutely no idea.
"Great," you said. "Really helpful."
"She showed me once. It has a red label. Or maybe yellow." He pulled out a tote bag from the cabinet and dropped it on the counter in your direction. "We'll figure it out when we're there."
"The market is a fifteen minute walk in this heat."
"Then we should leave now."
"Caleb—"
He was already heading for the door. "Come on."
You grabbed the bag and your sunglasses and followed him out into the heat, which hit you like a wall the second you stepped off the porch.
The neighborhood was quiet on summer afternoons, everyone wanted to be inside with their fans on. You walked beside Caleb through streets you'd both known since childhood, past the park, past the corner ice cream store with the faded awning, past Mrs. Yuen's house with the wind chimes that had been making the same sound for fifteen years.
He was telling you about an incident with a new recruit that had happened at a training exercise last month and you were laughing.
"Did he get hurt?" you managed.
"Bruised his ego more than anything." Caleb pushed your sunglasses up. "Poor guy spent the rest of the session pretending it hadn't happened."
The market was cool and smelled like the same brand of air freshener they'd been using since you were ten. You grabbed a basket and split off toward the vegetables while Caleb wandered in the direction of the snack aisle, which —you'd learned over years of shared grocery runs— meant you were going to spend the next several minutes complaining about his choices.
You found the green onions. Found the ginger. Turned the corner into the snack aisle and found Caleb standing in front of the chips with two bags in his hands, deliberating.
"We don't need chips," you said.
"Yes we do."
"We have food at home."
"Chips are not food, chips are a separate category." He held them both up. "Salt and vinegar or barbecue."
"Neither. We're here for dinner ingredients."
"And chips." He put the barbecue in the basket.
You took it out. He put it back in.
"Caleb."
"It's for the walk home. You'll want some on the walk home."
"You are so—" You stopped, pointed at his chest. "Fine. One bag. And you're carrying it."
He was already reaching for a second one.
"One bag."
"Salt and vinegar for you, barbecue for me. That's technically one bag each which is—"
"That's two bags."
"One per person."
You let him keep both bags because the alternative was standing in the snack aisle for another five minutes.
The soy sauce took longer. You found the section, found approximately ten different brands, and stood there for a moment in silence.
"Red label or yellow?" you said.
"I said I wasn't sure."
"You said you'd seen it."
"I'd seen it, I didn't memorize it."
"Caleb, if we get the wrong one—"
He picked one up, turned it over, put it back. Picked up another. "This one looks right."
He put it in the basket and you picked up a different one, compared the labels side by side, and put his back and kept yours.
He switched them back the moment you turned away.
------
You were outside, bag on Caleb's shoulder, chips already open when your hunter's watch went off.
The sound cut straight through everything. Your hand was in the chip bag one second and at your holster the next, the muscle memory of it faster than conscious thought. The screen had gone red.
Wanderer detected. Class: High energy anomaly. Proximity: 100 meters.
Caleb stepped in close "Behind the market. Let's go."
You were already moving.
---
The alley ran behind a row of shops, narrow and shadowed, the air warping at the far end and that meant the Wanderer had already been there long enough to disturb local reality. You pulled your gun and kept your back to the wall, moving fast. Caleb came in on the other side, gravity already building at his hands, the air around his knuckles bending in a way that meant he was ready.
The Wanderer was enormous, the geometry of it not quite making sense no matter which angle you looked from. It moved fast for something that size, swinging a limb in your direction before you'd fully cleared the corner.
You fired twice. The shots connected and it shrieked, momentum redirected enough that the hit meant for you shattered a section of wall instead.
"Flank!" Caleb called.
You were already going wide. He pulled gravity in from the left, compressing the Wanderer's movement, slowing it just enough for you to get behind it and put three more shots into the joint where two of its limbs connected. It screamed and lurched sideways.
"Keep it off the street," you yelled over the noise.
"Working on it." He dragged it backward with a gravity pull that made the pavement crack under the force of it, steering it further into the alley.
It was not a clean fight. It kept redirecting, slamming into the walls, filling the alley with debris that you had to dodge while maintaining your sight lines.
Eventually the thing started to slow. Eventually it disappeared.
Then you saw it.
On the ground where the Wanderer had dissolved — a Protocore, small, throwing off an iridescent white that you'd never seen from a Wanderer before.
"That's not standard," Caleb said, coming to stand beside you. He crouched down to look at it without touching it. "I've never seen one this color."
"Me neither." You holstered your gun. "I should take it to HQ."
"Agreed." You crouched beside him, reaching for the core at the same time he did, and your hands closed around it simultaneously.
White light erupted.
It collapsed inward, pulling everything —sound, light, air, the alley— into a point of white noise and wind, and then nothing, a few seconds later there was a floor coming up very fast.
You hit the carpet with a thud that knocked the breath out of you.
Caleb landed beside you, one arm slamming down to catch his weight before he pushed himself up.
"Are you hurt," he said, breathing hard.
You did a fast inventory. "No. You?"
"No." He looked up. Looked around.
You were inside a huge apartment. Carpeted floor and warm light from the windows. A long couch. A coffee table with papers on it. A mug. A jacket draped over the back of a chair.
Someone's apartment.
You stood up slowly. Caleb was already at the bookshelf, and you followed, and then you saw the first photo and everything in your chest felt strange.
It was you. You and Caleb, standing somewhere sunny, laughing at something out of frame. You were wearing a jacket you didn't own. His hair was slightly different, grown out and pushed back.
There were more. The two of you at a restaurant, faces close across a small table. A shot of you asleep on a couch, and Caleb sitting at the other end with a book, but whoever had taken the photo had caught him looking at you and not at the page.
Your throat felt tight.
"This is my apartment," Caleb said quietly, from somewhere to your left.
You turned to look at him. He was looking at the leather jacket on the chair. His leather jacket, the one currently in his wardrobe back at the base. A pilot's manual on the shelf, the same one he'd been working through. A mug from the Farspace Fleet. A framed photo of your grandmother that matched the one at home.
"The photos—" you started.
"I know."
He crossed to the coffee table, picked up the newspaper and scanned the top page. He held it out.
The date at the top was two years from now. Exactly two years.
---
You spent the rest of the afternoon going through the apartment with careful attention, very aware you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be. You were trying to understand what the last two years had produced.
Caleb's future self left notes everywhere. Fridge, desk, bathroom mirror. His handwriting but with a different quality to it, more settled. There were more photos than you'd first noticed — tucked into the edges of the mirror in the hallway, stuck to the inside of a cabinet. A birthday card in your handwriting on the desk, standing open. A second toothbrush in the bathroom.
You both looked at that for a moment.
"I'm not going to say anything about any of this," you said finally, standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed.
"Good call," Caleb said, from the doorway.
"I'm —this is a lot of information."
"It is."
"And I'm not drawing any conclusions."
He went quiet.
The sun went down. The apartment went from warm gold to dark while you sat on the floor of the living room eating crackers you'd found in the cabinet, your backs against the couch, the Protocore sitting on the coffee table throwing faint white light across the ceiling.
"We'll figure out how to get back," Caleb said.
"I know."
"Same energy that brought us here should be able to—"
"Caleb, I know. I'm not panicking."
He looked at you sideways. "You're quieter than your normal quiet."
"I'm just thinking."
He nodded slowly. Ate a cracker. Didn't push it, he knew when to let something sit. Almost two decades of knowing each other and he'd learned exactly where the lines were.
You were about to say something else when you heard it.
Voices outside.
Both of you were on your feet before the door handle moved. Caleb stepped toward the entryway on pure instinct and you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled.
"Don't," you said, low and fast.
"I just want to see—"
"You cannot make contact with yourself. Do you understand what that does to the timeline? Do you understand what happens if you alter something?"
"I wasn't going to —"
"Caleb." You got in front of him, hands on his chest, looking up at him with full seriousness. "We hide. Right now. We have to wait."
He looked at the door. The handle was starting to move.
"Fine," he said before he grabbed the protocore and then your wrist to pull you toward the hallway closet in two long strides, opening it fast and pulling you in after him, easing the door shut.
The closet was full. Coats, bags, a stack of boxes on the floor that immediately became a problem because you had nowhere to step back, which meant you were now pressed against Caleb from your shoulders to your knees.
You could feel every breath he took.
"This is very small," you whispered.
"I know," he said, directly behind your ear.
His arms were on either side of you because there was nowhere else for them. His chin was above your head. You could feel him making adjustments to keep whatever minimal distance physics was willing to offer, and it was working as well as you'd expect. Which was not well.
You were two childhood friends in a closet in an apartment that was apparently his, two years in the future, surrounded by photographic evidence of something neither of you had said out loud yet, and he was doing his very best not to press against you and his very best was losing badly to the laws of spatial reasoning.
The front door opened.
Through the slats of the closet door, the living room light clicked on.
"I told you." Your own voice, but looser, threaded through with laughter that had a very specific quality to it. "I told you we shouldn't have had that last drink."
"Yeah," came the reply. Caleb's voice, except it was rougher and stripped of the easy warmth you knew and replaced with something that made the back of your neck prickle. "You were flirting with the bartender just to watch me lose it."
"Maybe I was." Future you sounded unrepentant about this.
Through the slats you watched two people stumble into the living room and your brain took several seconds to process what your eyes were seeing. She was in a dress, form fitting, gorgeous, currently half unzipped down the back. Future Caleb had shed his jacket somewhere between the door and the living room, his shirt untucked with half the buttons open, chest visible, hair slightly wrecked.
Behind you, Caleb had gone completely rigid. You felt it happen, every muscle in his body locking up at once.
Then future Caleb grabbed future you by the waist and walked her backward into the living room wall.
The impact was loud. What followed was louder, the sound of them kissing, which was not the word for what was happening, kissing implied something with more restraint than this. Future Caleb had his hands in her hair and on her waist and sliding down to bunch the fabric of her dress up her thighs, all at the same time.
You made a sound you hadn't planned on making.
Caleb's hand came over your mouth so fast you didn't even see it coming, his palm pressing firm and warm against your lips, his forearm across your collarbone. His chest was heaving against your back and something else was pressing against the small of your back that you were both absolutely not acknowledging.
You made a muffled sound against his hand anyway.
His arm tightened.
Future Caleb pulled back just far enough to speak "You want to play games tonight?" A pause, heavy with intent. "Let's find out how loud I can make you scream."
He pushed his hand up her skirt.
You'd never made that sound in your life. Or apparently you would. In two years. Against that wall.
"Caleb—wait, wait—the couch—"
That was it. That was enough. Your hand shot out in the dark and found the closet door handle and you grabbed it.
Caleb's hand came off your mouth and closed around your wrist, pulling it back against you, his mouth dropping to your ear.
"Don't you dare," he breathed.
"We have to stop watching this—" you hissed.
"If you open that door they'll see us—"
"Then they see us—"
"And alter the timeline," he said. "Your words. Two minutes ago."
He was right and it was the worst possible moment for him to be right.
"Just—" His voice came out strained "Just don't move."
"Caleb—"
"I'm a guy, and you are literally grinding into me," he snapped softly, though there was no real anger in it. His forehead dropped briefly to the back of your head. "Just..." sigh "give me a second."
Outside the closet Caleb lifted her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her the few steps to the couch and dropped her onto it.
His hands yanked the straps of her dress down, baring her breasts. He pinched a nipple, and she arched with a sharp cry. "You are so fucking wet already. Been thinking about my cock all day? Want me to stretch that pretty pussy out right here?"
"Yes—fuck, Caleb, touch me," she gasped, hips grinding up.
Your breath hitched. Heat flooded between your legs, sudden and embarrassing. Caleb's cock twitched against your ass and you had to bite your lip to stay quiet.
Future Caleb reached down and shoved his pants off. You couldn't look away. He was big, thick, flushed, veins standing out. Ready.
Panic hit you. "Don't look," you whispered frantically. "That's... me. Turn around or do something—"
"Like hell," he said against your ear, teeth grazing the shell. "You're the one staring. You like seeing him like that? Seeing what I— what he wants to do to you?"
"Caleb, shut up," you whimpered, thighs pressing together.
He didn't fuck her right away. He grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the edge of the couch, and spread her wide. Dropped to his knees.
"Caleb—" she started, but it dissolved into a broken moan as he buried his face between her legs.
The sound of his tongue working her was loud and messy, completely shameless. Her head dropped back against the cushions, fingers twisted tight into the fabric, her whole body shaking every time he dragged his tongue over her clit in greedy strokes. He licked broad stripes up her slit before focusing on her clit again, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan.
"Fuck, you taste so good,”Caleb growled against her pussy, voice muffled but clear enough to carry.
"Just like that baby” she moaned, one hand fisting his hair, the other still twisting in the couch cushion.
He pinched her nipple hard with his free hand, rolling it between his fingers as he sucked harder. Her thighs trembled around his head.
Behind you, Caleb let out a broken groan that made your knees go soft. His arm snapped around your waist, holding you steady, fingers digging into your hip the exact same way his future self was gripping her out there.
“Fuck,” you whispered, head falling back against his shoulder before you could stop yourself. Your pussy was throbbing, aching so bad it almost hurt.
“Listen to that. Listen to how wet you get for me.” Caleb shifted his hips, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your jeans, dragging the seam right over your soaked cunt.
On the couch, she was losing it. "I need you inside me. I can’t wait anymore.”
Future Caleb pulled back, mouth shiny, breathing hard. He stroked himself once, twice, then lined up and drove into her in one rough thrust. Her legs wrapped around him as he started fucking her deep and hard, the couch creaking like it might give out any second. His back and ass flexed with every thrust, hips snapping forward. “Gonna come on my cock like a good girl?”
He leaned over her, one hand pinning her thigh higher as he fucked her. “Gonna fill you up. Want you leaking my cum the rest of the night. You love being my dirty little slut, don’t you? Say it.”
“Oh my god,” you choked, voice barely there. Watching yourself get railed like that—by him—was too much. The guy whose arms were currently locked around your waist, the same guy you’d known since you were kids, was pounding into a future version of you like he owned her.
She gasped between moans, nails now digging into his back. “Yes—your slut, Caleb—harder—”
“That’s my girl.” His hips snapped faster “Come on my cock like you did last night."
In the closet, Caleb’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, his cock twitched hard against your ass, hips making tiny, helpless thrusts.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, every filthy word making the ache between your legs worse.
“Jesus,” Caleb whispered raggedly “We really talk like that?”
You twisted hard, trying to turn around in the cramped space so you wouldn’t have to see it anymore.
“Stop moving,” Caleb gasped, his control fraying fast as your ass rubbed right over the head of his cock.
“I can’t watch this—let me turn—”
Your foot caught on a heavy boot buried in the mess at the bottom of the closet. Balance gone.
“Whoa—” Caleb grabbed for you, but it was too late. Your combined weight slammed into the door.
The cheap magnetic latch popped open with a sad little click.
The squeaking of the couch cut off like someone had yanked the plug on the whole universe.
The silence that followed rang in your ears. You pushed up on your elbows, face so hot you were surprised you hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Caleb was beside you, shirt rucked up, the very obvious, very hard line of his erection pressing against your thigh.
You both slowly turned your heads toward the couch.
A few meters away, future Caleb was frozen mid thrust, hands locked on future you’s hips, his body still buried deep inside her. She had one leg hooked high around his waist, hair a wild mess, chest heaving. Both of them stared at you with identical expressions of what the actual fuck.
They were a sweaty, flushed disaster, very naked and very, very mid fuck.
“What the…” future Caleb started.
Future you blinked slowly. “Is that… us?”
You opened your mouth, brain offering the most useless sentence in history. “We were just looking for soy sauce—”
The white light from the Protocore exploded again. The apartment, the couch, your naked and extremely confused future selves—all of it ripped away in a roar of rushing air.
Thud.
You hit the dirty alley hard enough to knock the wind out of you again.
Caleb groaned beside you, flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in sharp pulls. You could still feel the ghost of his hardness against you, the way his fingers had dug into your hip in the closet. Your own body was still buzzing, thighs slick, pulse pounding between your legs like a second heartbeat.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then Caleb let out a shaky laugh that sounded half hysterical. “Soy sauce. Really?”
You rolled onto your side, wincing at the scrapes on your elbows. “It was the first thing that came to mind, okay? We just watched ourselves— I mean, they— we were—” You gestured vaguely, face burning all over again. “You know.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
He sat up slowly and ran a hand through his hair. The front of his shorts was still a bit tented. He didn’t bother trying to hide it. You weren’t exactly in a position to judge, your nipples were tight against your shirt, and you were pretty sure your face was the color of a ripe tomato.
The protocore gave one last weak shimmer and dissolved into harmless blue dust that scattered across the pavement.
Caleb looked at you. “So… two years from now, huh?”
You swallowed. “Apparently we, uh… figured some things out.”
He huffed another laugh, but it was softer this time. Almost wondering. He reached over and brushed a bit of alley dirt off your cheek with his thumb. The touch lingered.
“We should probably go”
You nodded, but neither of you stood up right away. The air between you felt thicker than the summer humidity, charged with everything you’d just seen and felt in that stupid closet.
Caleb’s gaze dropped to your mouth for a second, then flicked back up. “When we get back to the house…”
“Yeah?” you whispered.
He smiled, small and crooked and a little nervous, the same smile he’d given you a thousand times growing up, except this one felt different.
“I’m not waiting two years,” he said.
Your heart did something complicated in your chest.
You grabbed his hand, pulled him up with you, and the two of you started walking out of the alley like nothing had happened.
But everything had happened.
And as your fingers brushed again while you walked, neither of you pulled away.
oml hubby!nanamin reminding you to breathe during smex!
sorry for such the long hiatus loves :((
“where do you feel me baby? tell me.” you nails dug into the back of the man currently fucking the shit out of you, to the point where you were incoherent. your thighs pressed against your sweat glazed torso, his hips harshly colliding with yours, hitting the deepest and most sensitive spots you have.
“mmm! n-hereeeee!” you weakly moved one of your hands to your womb. he smiles, kissing your lips and then making home on your sensitive neck. where his moans and groans went straight to your ear.
nanami makes LOVE. he never fucks.
he wants you to lose yourself in the pleasure he gives you, always to the point where you’re overstimulated and almost can’t take it.
one thing nanami always noticed was how you don’t breathe whenever you guys have sex. it’s not like when you ask him to slightly choke you, or when he shifts his weight on top of you when you guys are in prone bone. it’s whenever you guys are intimate in general, he has to stop and remind you every time :(
“baby, baby. breathhhe.” he halts his hips, holding your face so your gaze is only focusing on him. not even a second passed and you’re gasping in and out, tears cradling down your brown cheeks. “there you go baby, there you go..” he slowly picks up his thrusts again, causing you to whine and whimper. trying your best not to fall into the habit of holding your breath again.
“m’gunna cuhmmm n-nana!” — “that’s my good girl. y-yeaa.” the knot in your stomach about to burst. his tip constantly hitting that spot that makes you feel dizzy. “it’s t’much!”
you whined. pushing against nanami’s abdomen, attempting to halt his thrusts for a moment. but he didn’t let up. “uh, uh baby. let out for me, let it out for your nana.” grabbing your wrists, and pinning it above your head.
the knot in your stomach snaps. squirting all over your husbands and thighs, coating them with your essence. it wasn’t too long until nanami reached his high. quickly pulling out and finishing on your stomach.
“did so good for me baby,” he lifted his hand from your wrist, using it to caress the side of your face.
Folding laundry in nothing but one of his more casual shirts, something that looks absolutely massive on you but fits him like a glove. Your shared bed is an organized mess of assorted and categorized folded clothes that you then need to put away into their rightful homes.
But, Sylus? Sylus has other plans when he sees you.
Watching your hips sway, humming some song as you reach for the next item of clothing. Your shirt - his shirt - swishing around your mid-thigh, inching upwards in a way that he swears its the universe teasing him. You don't even flinch when he's sudden engulfing you.
"Thought you were just gonna watch me all day." You murmur, still attempting to fold the pair of jeans you had just tugged from the basket. Arms raised to allow him space as his biceps encircle your middle, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
"I could have, but I got too tempted." You laugh, tilting your head into his embrace as you hold the half folded jeans outward. "Too tempted by me just standing here, folding my laundry? That's all it takes?"
You feel something akin to a laugh and a groan swirled into one vibrating your neck. His grip on you tightens just a fraction. "You just have to look at me the right way, sweetie, and I'm done for." You smile then, leaning more of your weight back and turning your head into his.
"Is that so?"
"Sylus...!"
Your neatly folded clothes had been so carelessly discarded, thrown about the bed and floor as if they hadn't been there at all. You were nearly drooling into one of your own cardigans, gripping at the sheets and your sleep shorts for some sort of grounding.
"S-Sylus!" Again, panting his name as he rocked into you. Though, rocking might be too gentle of a term. Every connection had the rigid edges of his prominent hips digging into the plush of your ass, making the skin ripple. The obscene slap echoing the bedroom only added to the dizzying heat building in the depths of your cunt.
"Keep sayin my name, kitten." He was utterly entranced, eye glowing a bright crimson as he stared down to where his cock entered and retracted from your fluttering, leaking cunt. A thick, creamy ring of your mixing arousal building at his base, creating glossy webs over the neatly trimmed hair of his groin.
It made his throat tight, a wave of pure, unadulterated hunger overcoming him. "Sy!" It's a pretty shriek of his name as he nearly collapses on top of you, one knee coming up to brace on the bed as he keeps his other foot planted firmly on the ground.
"Tell me how much you want this." A slurred promise, the addition of his body weight crushing you into the mattress only made your velvety walls clamp down around him harder. "I want this so bad, Sy. D-don't stop, you're making me feel so good...!" His new angle has his hips moving harder, faster, the pleasure making your head spin.
"Cum for me, my pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, I need to feel it." He felt feral. His hands coming up to brace themselves on the mattress by trapping your trembling ones against it. Squeezing your warm skin as a way of encouragement when he felt your cunt spasming around him.
"Please, please... cum for me, baby. Cum, I need you to cum..." he could practically taste your desire to please him. You manage to lift your head up, saliva connecting you to your once clean cardigan. "Kiss me."
A command so simple, and yet Sylus is struggling to resist the throbbing release that nearly got out of him without his permission. Absolutely throbbing between your walls, Sylus is unable to stop his hips. Head falling forward to capture your mouth in a slopping pass of teeth and tongue, spit dribbling down your chins.
You cum then, crying into his mouth and trembling all the same. Hips jerking as if you could ever escape his grasp, with or without his additional body weight for security.
Sylus doesn't take long to follow, not when he nearly lost his cool seconds prior over the simple request for a kiss. You swallow each other's gasps, every little noise that accompanies your orgasms are consumed by the other's mouth. Only separating when you swear black spots are threatening to overcome your vision.
"I love you."
"I love you too, kitten."
Soul was today years old when she realized she could click shift + return to erase the space between paragraphs... I've been on this site for nearly a decade - Soul
You’d only had sex with Sylus a handful of times, all of it slow and reverent. After everything you had both been through, all of the tension and strain, he was terrified… not that he’d ever admit it. Even when you were gentle with unveiling your desires, giving him that soft smile, he wouldn’t indulge. Not the way you knew he wanted.
It was only when you sank to your knees before him, peering up with that heavy-lidded gaze, sweeping your hair back… that was when he broke.
Just a little.
Just for you.
“What do you want, Sy?” You’d whisper innocently, all while your palms would glide up the muscles of his thighs, fingers coming to toy with his waistband.
He’d let out that breathy sigh, the one that indicated he was going to cave. The sound of it was undeniably weak of him, which you knew was the greatest tribute of trust.
Even on the edge of your victory, so, so close… Sylus wouldn’t ask. He never did. He always allowed you to set the limits.
But that’s ok… You were more than content to verbalise his desire for him.
‘From the moment I met you, you’ve always taken what you want,” you murmured, tugging his pants down to free his aching cock. “Until it comes to this,” you ran your tongue along his length, grinning as he threw his head back with a groan.
“Let me reassure you.” Your voice was soft, and as you swirled around his tip with your tongue, you took him as far as you could go in your mouth. Sylus was gone, sinking back into his leather chair, eyes clenched shut with bliss.
Coming back up with a quiet pop, he glanced down at you, and you gave him a smoldering look. “You can take what you want from me, Sy. Your desire… is mine.”
If he was going to speak, you certainly ruined his train of thought. You forced him down to the back of your throat, the thick girth of him stretching you wide. Setting a nasty pace, you couldn't deny your whimpers and whines any longer. The feel of him against your tongue, the taste of him, and by god those groans… it made you feral. It never took long for your panties to grow damp, clinging to you most unbearably. You clenched around nothing, but your suffering was worth every second.
“Ahh… fuck! Easy, kitten…” Sylus panted, and yet his burning gaze was locked onto you.
When your jaw began to cramp and your gag reflex hit its limit, you wrapped your hands around his base, flicking your tongue beneath his tip.
“Take your shirt off,” he rasped, breathless and burning.
You grinned, rebellious. “Not tonight.”
“I'm not asking,” he snapped, his warm palm cupping your cheek.
Your breath stuttered as he dragged your gaze to meet him. His right eye was ablaze, a crimson star.
Sylus leaned in, fingertips tracing the outline of your lips. “If you tell me I can take,” he said with no reservation. “Then I think I might finally oblige in such an offer. Now, take your clothes off.”
Summary: Escaping the noise of his family's birthday party, you and Valko find a quiet guest room where cuddles, laughter, heartfelt confessions, and peaceful intimacy turn into cockwarming and a creampie before ending with his rock-hard knot.
A/n: I'm so depressed and delusional over this man. He will live on in my fanfics, so please reblog if you enjoy. This was based on a prompt: cuddle, cockwarm, creampie, repeat. I am assuming that Valko would have had some issues with his family accepting us just based on the lyrics of his song.
💚 AO3 Link | Valko Masterlist 💚
It was just after one in the afternoon when Valko finally decided he’d reached his limit of being climbed on, chased, and relentlessly challenged by the younger half of his family. There were only so many piggyback rides he could give, games of tag he could lose on purpose, and squealing little cousins, nieces, and nephews he could let “capture” him before even the boundless energy of the big bad wolf began to run dry. He adored them; every loud, sticky-handed, sugar-fueled one of them, but after hours of laughter, shrieking, and tiny hands tugging at his sleeves, he found himself craving something much quieter. He found himself craving you.
Even while the children had monopolized him all afternoon, you’d never really been out of his sight. Every few minutes, without even realizing he was doing it, his golden eyes would wander across the backyard until they landed on you again. He wanted to make sure you weren’t getting bored sitting on your own, that the sheer size of his family wasn’t making you anxious, and that the constant noise and commotion hadn’t become so overwhelming that you were secretly wishing to head home. The truth was, he worried about you in all the little ways that came naturally to him.
After a while, though, he realized he wasn’t the only one who could use a little peace and quiet. You had long since finished your slice of chocolate cake, leaving the paper plate with its scattering of crumbs on the chair beside you where Valko had been sitting before another wave of children stole him away. Now you sat beneath the shade of the covered back patio, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone while warm sunlight spilled across the backyard beyond you. Laughter echoed through the air, birds chirped from the trees overhead, and the sweet smell of birthday cake mixed with barbecue and freshly cut grass on the lazy afternoon breeze. Just as someone announced it was time for the piñata, every child erupted into excited squeals before stampeding across the lawn toward the brightly colored prize hanging from one of the trees.
The moment he saw his opportunity, Valko peeled away from the tiny mob and headed straight for you.
“Hey,” he greeted with an easy smile, lifting a hand in a small wave as he walked over. He picked up the forgotten plate of cake from his chair before settling down beside you with an audible sigh of relief, “how ya doing? Bored yet?”
A quiet laugh escaped you. Before you could answer, his large hand reached beneath your chair, wrapped around one of its legs, and effortlessly dragged you closer until the legs scraped softly over the deck and bumped into his with a gentle little clink. Apparently satisfied with the closer distance, he slipped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you comfortably against his side. His broad hand lazily stroked your shoulder in slow, affectionate passes while he looked down at you through relaxed, half-lidded eyes, wearing the kind of soft smile that always seemed reserved just for you.
“I’m fine,” you assured him with a small nod, your hand coming to rest on his broad thigh over the worn denim of his jeans. You gave it a gentle squeeze before teasing, “go have fun. You look pretty happy when you’re terrorizing a bunch of eight-year-olds.”
He let out a hearty laugh, the sound warm and unrestrained as he subconsciously pulled you a little closer beneath the comfortable weight of his arm. Stretching one long leg out in front of him, he settled farther back into his chair, looking out over the backyard where a dozen children tore across the grass in every direction. Their laughter carried through the warm afternoon air beneath the cheerful chaos of shrieks, bouncing balls, and adults talking over one another beneath the covered patio and gazebo of tables.
“Not my fault one of those little rascals stole and hid my keys,” he said with an amused shake of his head, watching them with the fond exasperation only family could inspire, “they had it comin’.”
You couldn’t help smiling as you watched him. It was rare to see Valko this relaxed. There was no tailored suit, no lab coat no assassin’s cloak, no meetings, no responsibilities beyond surviving the relentless affection of his younger relatives. His green flannel sleeves had been rolled neatly to his elbows hours ago after the first game of tag, the top buttons of his shirt left undone against the Spring warmth, and despite spending the afternoon being climbed on like an oversized jungle gym, he still looked perfectly content. This was a side of him few people outside his family probably ever saw, and it suited him surprisingly well.
The peaceful moment lasted only a few seconds before you felt his attention shift beside you. It was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but you had begun learning the little tells that came with loving a werewolf. His gaze snapped away from the yard in front of him toward something farther off before yours even had a chance to follow, his posture becoming just a touch more alert as one of the children’s voices caught his attention.
“Hey! Fenris,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the backyard without sounding harsh. Your eyes followed his line of sight until you spotted the little boy clutching a bright red ball. He froze mid-step the instant he realized Valko had seen him, “give Luna the ball back. It’s her turn.”
The little boy immediately threw his head back with a dramatic groan, “but! Cous, she—”
“—No I didn’t!” The little girl shouted over him before he could finish, “cous, he—”
“—Fenris,” Valko interrupted, his tone remaining calm but firm enough to end the argument before it had the chance to escalate, “ball. Now. C’mon.”
The little boy sighed as though he’d been dealt the greatest injustice of his young life before begrudgingly holding the ball out. The moment the little girl grabbed it, she smacked it free from his hands, stuck her tongue out at him with a triumphant grin, and sprinted across the yard in a fit of giggles. He let out an indignant yell and immediately tore off after her, disappearing back into the pack of children while several adults hardly noticed the exchange. You felt Valko shift beside you, already preparing to stand and referee whatever inevitably happened next, but before he could lift himself from the chair, you rested your hand over his broad thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze to keep him where he was.
“They have parents,” you reminded him gently, leaning just a little closer until your shoulder rested comfortably against his.
“Yeah, but you know my booze-loving uncle,” he huffed, allowing himself to sink back against the chair instead as he folded his broad arms across his chest. His eyes never quite left the children, though there was more fondness than frustration behind them, “he gets two drinks in him and then just disappears. And then he wonders why his youngest are little hellhounds off leashes.”
Despite not being one of the elders of his clan, Valko was still its leader. The distinction mattered. The elders held authority over tradition, counsel, and the customs that had guided the werewolf clans for generations, but when people needed someone to follow, someone to trust, someone to carry the weight of everyone else’s worries, they instinctively turned to him. Responsibility seemed to settle onto his shoulders as naturally as breathing. He was always the first to notice when someone needed help, the first to step between conflict before it could grow, and the first person everyone sought out without even thinking about it. Strength had earned him leadership, but the quiet way he cared for everyone around him was what made them willing to follow.
Ironically, the very people who usually insisted on rank and tradition seemed to vanish the moment a backyard full of children needed supervising. The older generation had long since settled into comfortable conversations elsewhere, enjoying the afternoon while the parents of the youngest children relaxed just a little more than they normally would. It wasn’t intentional neglect so much as quiet confidence. They all knew Valko was there.
And if Valko was there…The kids were safe. He was the only one among his cousins and siblings who didn’t have children of his own yet, which somehow made him the designated babysitter every single family gathering. The little ones absolutely adored him. They clung to his legs, begged him for piggyback rides, demanded another game of tag the second the last one ended, and somehow convinced the six-foot-two chairman of EonCore Tech to chase them around the yard pretending to be a monster every single time. They laughed harder with him than they did with anyone else, and watching him throw himself so wholeheartedly into their games made it painfully obvious why he was everyone’s favorite cousin.
But you had also begun noticing something everyone else seemed to miss. The little moments. The tired sighs he thought no one heard. The way he rolled his shoulders when the children weren’t looking. The quiet glances he’d steal toward you whenever he needed a breather before another tiny voice inevitably called his name again. He loved them. God, he loved those kids. But sometimes loving everyone meant forgetting to take care of himself. Sometimes he was the one who needed someone looking out for him.
“Why don’t we get away from it all for a bit?” You suggested softly, reaching over to take the paper plate from his hands after he scooped up the last bite of chocolate cake you’d left for him, “you said I could nap in one of the guest rooms if I got overstimulated, right? What if we both take a nap together?”
He chewed thoughtfully, though it was obvious he was mulling over far more than the last bite of cake. For just a moment, you thought you had him. Then that familiar, responsible expression settled across his handsome face.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head as he swallowed, “the kids are gonna be running around looking for me the moment I disappear. There’s no rest for the wicked.”
You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes with affectionate exasperation.
“God forbid you get away for an hour or two,” you teased, “come on.”
Before he could even begin forming another excuse, you stood, walked the few steps to the nearby trash can, and tossed the empty plate away. By the time you returned, he was only just opening his mouth to protest. He never got the chance. You slipped your fingers around his wrist and gave him a firm tug.
“C’mon.”
Without the slightest resistance, he rose obediently from the chair, letting you pull his considerably larger frame to his feet. The corners of his mouth had already started curling upward into a helpless smile. For all his stubbornness, he was remarkably easy to lead whenever you took charge with just enough confidence.
“Alright,” you said, lacing your fingers through his hand as you guided him toward the house, “here we go…”
You slipped out of your shoes by the door, the action reminding him to do the same. The instant you stepped inside, the atmosphere changed. The muffled shrieks of children softened behind the walls, replaced by quiet conversation, the low hum of music drifting through the open living room, and the occasional burst of laughter from relatives gathered around the kitchen island with drinks in hand. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, warming the polished hardwood floors while the cool air-conditioning wrapped around your skin like a welcome sigh of relief after the sunny brightness outside.
You glanced back over your shoulder at him with a grin, “lead the way, puppy.”
He let out a warm, hearty laugh, the sound rumbling effortlessly from his chest as he rolled his eyes with exaggerated resignation, his dimples deepening beneath the grin that never seemed to stay off his face whenever you teased him, “whatever ya say, little master.”
A soft giggle slipped out before you could stop it, and you happily relinquished the lead, allowing him to guide you instead as he started toward the grand staircase. You had only managed two steps behind him before his arm suddenly slipped around your waist. The movement happened so effortlessly that your feet barely had time to register leaving the floor before a surprised little yelp escaped you. His other arm scooped beneath your knees with practiced ease, and in one fluid motion you found yourself swept up against the broad warmth of his chest, securely cradled in his strong arms as though you weighed next to nothing. The subtle scent of his cologne mixed with fresh air and sunshine enveloped you immediately, and your breath caught when you instinctively looked up to find him already smiling down at you.
God…That smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly around those brilliant golden irises, his sculpted cheeks pushing upward into those impossible dimples that never failed to make your stomach betray you. Heat bloomed through your chest and fluttered lower before you could stop it, and you let out the quietest little whine of embarrassment as your cheeks warmed. You very nearly buried your face against his chest, suddenly aware that the two of you were still walking straight through the middle of his family’s house while several relatives lingered nearby with drinks in hand, chatting between themselves.
“Do you have to do that in public??” You whisper shouted, lifting your hand just enough to flick him lightly against the prominent convex of his brow bone.
“Ow!” He scrunched his face dramatically, shaking off your tiny assault as though you’d inflicted a grievous wound before immediately looking back down at you with that same hopelessly pleased grin, “hey, I’m just guarding my emergency rations.”
A laugh escaped you as you rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself while you gently prodded a finger against the firm muscle of his chest, “wow, the big bad wolf’s so territorial.”
“Y’know what? I am, actually—” he answered without the slightest trace of shame, proudly nodding as though that were simply an undeniable fact.
The declaration lasted all of two seconds before one of his feet clipped the edge of the next stair. You felt the sudden hitch in his stride beneath you as his body lurched forward. He recovered almost instantly, catching himself before either of you came anywhere close to falling, but the stumble had already happened. His arms reflexively tightened around you with surprising force, drawing you securely against his chest until there wasn’t even the slightest gap between your bodies. His protective instincts overtook his pride without hesitation, making absolutely certain you hadn’t shifted an inch in his grip before he even thought about his own embarrassment.
“Shit, my bad,” his confident grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by immediate concern while his eyes searched your face, “you okay, hun?”
You bit the insides of your cheeks so hard they almost hurt, desperately trying to contain the laughter threatening to spill out. He’d gone from confidently carrying you through the house like some impossibly suave hunk to tripping over his own feet in the span of a heartbeat, and somehow that only made him infinitely more charming.
“Yes, my darling prince,” you answered, your voice thick with barely restrained amusement as your smile stretched wider and wider. You reached up to affectionately pat his chest, unable to hide the fondness sparkling in your eyes while he looked so adorably flustered trying to pretend nothing had happened, “you’re as suave as you are—…Endearing, Valko.”
Before he had the chance to sink too deeply into his own embarrassment, you reached up with an amused smile and gently scratched beneath his chin. The reaction was immediate. His entire expression softened before your eyes, every ounce of flustered dignity melting right off his face as though your fingertips had flipped some hidden switch inside him. His eyes relaxed into warm little crescents, and without even realizing he was doing it, he leaned into your hand, happily following the touch while he continued carrying you up the staircase. The movement was so instinctive, so shamelessly natural, that it made your heart swell. You couldn’t help giggling as you caught the faint blush blooming over the tips of his ears, the soft pink spreading despite all his attempts to stay composed.
“Who’s a good boy?” You whispered through another teasing laugh, your voice dripping with exaggerated baby talk as though you were praising an enormous, overgrown puppy instead of the imposing leader of an entire werewolf clan.
“Shhh,” he whispered back, unsuccessfully biting down on a laugh of his own as the corners of his mouth twitched upward. His pace noticeably quickened, long legs carrying the two of you farther down the hallway before anyone downstairs could overhear your merciless teasing, “quiet…”
“Oh?” You grinned, thoroughly delighted by how easily he’d taken the bait, “who’s a good booooy?!”
This time you didn’t stop at his chin. Both of your hands dove eagerly at the warmth of neck, your fingers happily scratching beneath his jaw before working higher along the strong column of his throat. The delighted little noises he tried so desperately to swallow only encouraged you further as you affectionately scruffed him, watching his composure unravel by the second. He looked like he was fighting for his life not to laugh, his shoulders beginning to tense beneath his flannel while his smile stretched wider and wider despite every hopeless attempt to hide it.
Then you saw it. The unmistakable twitch at the base of his lower back. A heartbeat later, a muffled thump echoed down the hallway. His tail. It smacked enthusiastically against the corridor wall once…Then again. Then faster. You barely had time to laugh before a pair of soft auburn wolf ears sprang up from the cover of his hair, betraying him completely. They perked straight toward you, twitching with every affectionate scratch you gave him while his tail wagged so enthusiastically behind him that it continued bumping against the wall in an utterly futile attempt to contain itself.
Completely busted, Valko hurriedly set you back onto your feet, though it was obvious he wasn’t escaping anything. The moment your bare heels touched the hardwood floor, you took one playful step toward him. He instinctively took one back. Another. You followed. He retreated again until his broad back gently met the hallway wall with nowhere left to go.
“Say it,” you demanded between mischievous giggles, closing the last bit of distance until he was comfortably boxed in by your much smaller frame.
He looked down at you with the most wonderfully resigned expression, already knowing he’d lost. A helpless sigh escaped him as he surrendered completely, allowing the weight of his head to fall into your waiting hands. Your fingers slipped effortlessly into his soft auburn hair before finding those sensitive wolf ears again, scratching gently behind them in slow, practiced circles. His eyelids fluttered almost immediately, and he obediently bent lower to make it easier for you to reach, practically melting beneath your touch until he looked less like the feared leader of a powerful clan and more like the world’s happiest oversized puppy.
“Fine, fine,” he murmured, the words accompanied by another hopeless little laugh as he leaned shamelessly into every affectionate scratch, “I’m a good boy…”
You giggled with quiet satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with yourself as you rewarded his reluctant confession by rising onto your toes and planting a loud, affectionate smooch against his chiseled cheek. His skin was still pleasantly warm beneath your lips, the faint flush lingering there as he let out another helpless little laugh before straightening to his full height once more. Towering over you again, he slipped his large hand around yours without a word, his fingers naturally lacing through yours as though they had done it a thousand times before, and gently guided you farther down the empty hallway.
The farther you walked from the staircase, the quieter the house became. The cheerful sounds of the birthday party softened into a distant blend of muffled laughter, children’s excited voices, and music drifting faintly upward from downstairs, creating a comforting backdrop rather than the overwhelming commotion it had been outside. When you reached the final door at the end of the hall, Valko turned the handle and eased it open just enough to peek inside. Ever vigilant, his golden eyes swept across the room for a brief second before he seemed satisfied. He stepped aside, gently ushering you in ahead of him before quietly closing the door behind the two of you. The soft click of the lock echoed through the room, and with it came an immediate sense of privacy.
The guest room was understated by Ao family standards, though “simple” still meant something far grander than most people would consider ordinary. The room was spacious and modern, decorated in warm neutral tones that made it feel inviting rather than extravagant. A large, plush bed dominated the center of the room, dressed in crisp linens that practically begged someone to collapse into them. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one wall, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the AC’s trajectory while filtered bands of afternoon sunlight painted soft golden stripes across the floor. It was peaceful. Bright. Comfortable. It was exactly what both of you needed.
The moment the door had clicked shut behind him, Valko let out a long, exhausted sigh that sounded as though he’d been holding it in all afternoon. Without a shred of ceremony, he shuffled a few steps forward before allowing gravity to claim him entirely, pitching face-first onto the enormous bed with all the grace of a tree being felled, “timberrr!”
Thump. His entire body bounced once against the plush mattress before settling there, sprawled dramatically across the blankets. You couldn’t help snorting. The sound of his theatrical collapse was immediately followed by a muffled groan of relief from somewhere beneath the pillows, making you laugh as you wandered over to the bedside. Resting one hand against the back of his broad thigh to steady yourself, you drew your other hand back before delivering a firm, playful smack squarely against the rounded muscle of his jeans-clad ass. The clap echoed pleasantly through the quiet room. He let out another muffled laugh into the comforter, his shoulders shaking beneath his flannel shirt.
“Outdoor clothes,” you reminded him with an amused shake of your head, your voice warm with affection rather than scolding. Your hand lingered long enough to give his undeniably firm, ridiculously squeezable ass a thoroughly self-indulgent squeeze, earning yourself the silent satisfaction of feeling the solid muscle beneath the faded denim, “damn, baby cakes…No pun intended…”
His tail reacted before he did. The large, fluffy appendage gave an indignant little twitch before lazily swishing across the bed with enough enthusiasm that the thick fur nearly smacked you straight in the face. You burst into another laugh, batting the oversized tail away with the back of your hand.
“Oh, right,” he remembered, a sheepish little laugh escaping him as he pushed himself back upright.
Valko rolled his shoulders before stretching his arms high over his head, a satisfying series of cracks traveling down the length of his spine as he arched backward with a relieved groan. The afternoon of chasing children had clearly done a number on him. He lingered there for another moment before his hands found the buttons of his forest-green flannel, casually working them open one by one. The fabric slipped from his broad shoulders before landing in an unceremonious heap on the floor, quickly followed by the fitted tank top beneath it. Warm sunlight spilled across the sculpted lines of his sun-kissed torso as he reached for his belt, the quiet clink of the buckle filling the peaceful room while you stepped out of your denim shorts, letting them puddle around your ankles.
You shrugged out of the oversized jacket he’d draped around your shoulders earlier that afternoon to shield you from the light breeze outside, smiling to yourself at the lingering warmth and faint woodsy scent that still clung to it before laying it neatly across the nearby chair. Across from you, Valko stepped out of his jeans, absently nudging them aside with one foot as though the simple act of getting comfortable already had him relaxing.
The moment you pulled your shirt over your head, you barely had time to set it aside before you felt his hands suddenly settle around your waist. A surprised gasp escaped you. Before you could even ask what he was doing, his powerful arms effortlessly lifted you off your feet, stretching you high toward the ceiling as though you weighed almost nothing at all. The sudden rush of movement sent a burst of exhilaration through you, and your hands instinctively shot out to grab hold of his sturdy forearms for balance while laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep in your chest. He looked entirely too pleased with himself. Those brilliant golden eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked up at you, his fanged grin growing impossibly wider the moment he realized you’d surrendered completely to being tossed around like his favorite chew toy.
“Get over here,” he chuckled.
With effortless precision born from having done this countless times before, he tossed you toward the center of the enormous bed. You landed exactly the way you liked. The plush mattress swallowed your weight before springing you gently upward again, sending you bouncing once, then rolling across the crisp sheets in a fit of delighted laughter as the soft bedding wrapped around you.
You had barely managed to roll onto your back before the mattress dipped dramatically. There he was. With absolutely no dignity whatsoever, Valko launched himself after you, pouncing onto the bed with all the unrestrained enthusiasm of an oversized puppy who’d finally found his favorite person after being apart for far too long. His weight sent the mattress bouncing beneath both of you, and your laughter blended together until it echoed warmly through the quiet guest room.
Then, thunk. His prominent brow bone collided squarely with your forehead. The impact wasn’t hard enough to hurt either of you badly, but it was more than enough to make both of you recoil at the exact same moment.
“Ow!” You complained in perfect unison, laughter immediately dissolving into identical grimaces as your hands flew to your foreheads. The ridiculous timing of it only made the whole thing funnier, and even through the brief sting, you could already feel another fit of laughter threatening to bubble right back out.
Just as the two of you were recovering from the self-inflicted collision, a chorus of tiny footsteps came thundering down the hallway outside. The rapid patter against the hardwood grew louder by the second, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of excited little voices bouncing off the walls.
“Cous?? Helloooo??”
“Uncle?? Are you in heeeeere??”
Both of you froze. Your laughter died in your throat so quickly it almost caught there, and before you could even think to react, Valko’s large, warm hand gently settled over your mouth. His eyes met yours for only a brief moment, silently asking you to stay still. You nodded ever so slightly beneath his palm as the room fell completely quiet around you. Outside the bedroom door, the tiny footsteps stopped. His family was made up of werewolves. Even the children possessed senses that put your own completely to shame. You held your breath without meaning to, listening as the little voices lowered into conspiring whispers just outside the door.
“Can you smell him?”
“Yeah,” another little voice answered with complete confidence, “he’s in here!”
Valko closed his eyes for the briefest second before letting out the quietest sigh through his nose. His free hand came up to pinch the bridge of his crooked dorsal hump with the kind of long-suffering resignation that suggested this was far from the first time he’d been tracked down by a determined pack of children. When he opened his eyes again, he looked back at you and silently mouthed the words, “my niece…”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. A tiny fist knocked enthusiastically against the door.
“Uncle!! Can you come play?” His niece called through the wood with all the earnest determination only a child could possess, “you said you’d give me another piggy back ride!”
The corners of Valko’s mouth twitched despite himself. You felt the amused breath escape behind his hand before he reluctantly peeled it away from your lips, raising his voice just enough for it to carry through the closed door.
“Uncle’s busy!” He called back, warmth and apology woven together in his voice, “I’ll give ya piggy back rides later…”
A thoughtful little silence followed.
Then another tiny voice spoke up.
“Well—…What about Auntie Y/n??”
Your heart melted. The nickname was still so new that hearing it caught you completely off guard. The children had only started calling you that today, gradually adopting it one after another as the afternoon wore on and they became more comfortable with you. Every time one of them had said it, it had sent a little flutter through your chest, and somehow hearing it now, through the bedroom door, made it feel even sweeter. Before you had the chance to answer, Valko was already smiling to himself.
“Auntie Y/n and I are really tired,” he replied, effortlessly coming to your rescue before you could even open your mouth, “we’re gonna take a quick nap. Why don’t you kids go play in the pool already? It’s nice and sunny!”
A collective chorus of disappointed groans rose from the other side of the bedroom door, followed by a reluctant scattering of tiny voices mumbling half-hearted agreements. You listened as the little pack slowly gave up their search, their footsteps shuffling down the hallway before gradually breaking into a run. A second later, the sound of them thundered down the staircase in a stampede of laughter and excited chatter, already arguing about whatever game had captured their attention next. Children really did move on that quickly. One moment they were determined to hunt Valko down, and the next they’d completely forgotten the last ten seconds ever happened.
You found yourself watching the pair of auburn wolf ears still perched atop his head as they remained angled attentively toward the door, twitching ever so slightly while he listened to the retreating footsteps. They rotated with remarkable precision, tracking the children all the way down the hall, down the stairs, and finally back outside into the backyard. Only when the last traces of their voices disappeared into the distant chorus of the birthday party did his ears visibly relax, the tension leaving them as they settled naturally again. He let out a long, quiet sigh of relief, and you couldn’t help smiling to yourself as the weight seemed to melt from his wide shoulders all at once.
“Told ya I can’t get a break,” he said with a lazy, tired smile, amusement softening every word as his fingers absentmindedly slipped into your hair.
He brushed a few loose strands back from your face with the gentlest touch, his thumb lingering briefly against your temple before his hand settled comfortably along the side of your head. His eyes rested on you with that familiar warmth that always seemed to quiet the rest of the world, “see, this is why I’m always passing up all these family reunions and I just show up to the important ones. It’s not because of you. It’s ’cause I hate all the small talk with the adults and eventually I start getting a headache from all the kids screaming and running around.”
You believed him. There had been a time, early on in your relationship, when you’d quietly convinced yourself he kept you away from his family because he was ashamed, or not taking you seriously. It had seemed like the obvious conclusion. A werewolf clan wasn’t exactly the place you’d ever imagined belonging, and you’d spent longer than you’d ever admit wondering whether bringing you around would somehow embarrass him or complicate his standing within the Ao family.
Over time, though, you’d come to understand how wrong you’d been. It had never been about shame. It had never been about hiding you. If anything stood between the two of you and the approval of certain members of his family, it wasn’t shame; it was tradition. Old expectations. Old rules. Generations of customs that insisted things should be done a certain way simply because they’d always been done that way.
And Valko…Valko simply didn’t care. He respected his elders, but he refused to let them dictate the course of his own life. He’d made that abundantly clear from the very beginning. Whatever opinions they held, whatever expectations they carried, none of them had ever outweighed what he wanted. And what he wanted was you. Not because biology had declared you his genetically chosen mate. Not because instinct demanded it. Not because fate had handed you to him. He wanted you because somewhere along the way he’d fallen hopelessly, unapologetically in love with the woman lying beneath him. Every teasing laugh, every stubborn argument, every quiet conversation, every moment you’d shared had become another reason for him to choose you again and again with complete certainty.
Bringing you here today hadn’t been an obligation. It had been a statement.nHe hadn’t invited you to a quiet dinner where only a handful of relatives would see you. He’d brought you straight into the middle of a children’s birthday party, surrounded by nearly the entire family, and held your hand through every room, every introduction, and every curious glance without the slightest hesitation. He’d carried you through the house in broad daylight, wrapped his arm around your waist whenever he pleased, and looked at you with the same unguarded affection whether anyone was watching or not. He wasn’t trying to provoke anyone. He simply refused to pretend you were anything less than the woman he loved.
Even if a few of his grandparents had barely acknowledged him throughout the afternoon. Even if some relatives had kept their distance. Even if the older generation still struggled to reconcile centuries of tradition with the path he’d chosen. None of it changed the way he looked at you. You wore the ring he’d given you; a piece anyone connected to the Ao clan or EonCore Tech would recognize immediately, and his familiar scent always lingered softly on your clothes, your skin, your hair from the countless little embraces and kisses he’d steal. Every quiet gesture spoke for itself.
You had never wanted to come between him and his family. You’d spent months hoping you wouldn’t become a source of tension, never wanting to be the reason old wounds or disagreements surfaced. But Valko had never once wavered. He had made his choice long ago.
“I know, honey,” you murmured, and this time you meant it with complete sincerity.
A soft smile warmed your face as you looked up at him, feeling the rough pad of his thumb drift gently across your lower lip with a tenderness that made your chest ache. There was something so effortlessly affectionate about the way he touched you, as though every little caress was second nature, every brush of his fingers another quiet reminder that he was happiest whenever the two of you were close.
You reached up and cupped the warm strength of his neck between your palms, your fingers disappearing into the soft auburn hair at his nape as you gently pulled him down to you. He met you halfway. Your lips found his, and the kiss immediately deepened. It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, warm, and full of everything neither of you needed to say aloud. You could feel the quiet gratitude in the way he kissed you, the lingering appreciation for stealing this little pocket of peace away from the noise downstairs. His lips lingered against yours before he reluctantly drew back just enough to look you over, his golden eyes tracing your face with unmistakable fondness.
With another contented sigh, he carefully lowered himself over you, instinctively supporting most of his weight on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you beneath his much larger frame. You immediately disagreed. Your arms tightened around him, fingers curling into the powerful muscles of his back as you tugged him closer, silently asking for more of him than he intended to give.
Valko let out a quiet, amused breath through his nose before finally surrendering, relaxing the rest of his considerable weight into you until his broad chest settled fully against yours. The plush mattress welcomed the both of you as his six-foot-two frame comfortably flattened you beneath him, pressing a soft breath from your lungs in the most satisfying way imaginable. You adored moments like this. The sheer size of him surrounding you, the solid warmth of his body blanketing yours, and the comforting heaviness of his embrace made you feel impossibly small beneath him in a way that sent a quiet flutter through your chest. He was built like a wall of warm muscle, and you shamelessly loved every ounce of it.
Apparently, so did he. His face disappeared into the crook of your neck as though he couldn’t get close enough, his nose nudging gently against your skin before he began nuzzling you with slow, contented affection. You felt each deep inhale ghost warmly across your throat as he breathed you in again and again, almost greedily, covering you with his familiar woodsy scent while surrounding himself with yours until they mingled together so completely that they became impossible to separate. A weak little giggle escaped you as you tilted your head to give him easier access, smiling at the way he seemed intent on filling his lungs with nothing but you.
Your own hands wandered lazily across the broad landscape of his naked back, savoring the shifting strength beneath warm skin as your fingertips traced familiar paths over powerful shoulders before drifting lower. Eventually, they found the faint ridges of healing scratches you’d left behind the night before, and your touch instinctively softened as you followed each tiny mark with absentminded affection. The memory of how they’d gotten there lingered pleasantly in the back of your mind, drawing another quiet smile to your lips as your palms continued exploring every broad inch of the man comfortably draped over you.
Somewhere in the middle of simply holding each other, you became aware of another subtle change. A growing firmness rested lightly against the inside of your thigh through the snug fabric of his briefs, almost tentative at first before becoming a little more noticeable each time he sighed contentedly against your neck. It wasn’t hurried, nor was it demanding. It felt like the quiet, instinctive response of a man who loved being close to you, whose body had always been as honest as his heart. The warmth of your embrace, the lingering kisses, your wandering hands, the comfort of finally escaping the noise downstairs, and the simple intimacy of lying tangled together were more than enough to stir him, and you couldn’t help smiling to yourself as you felt his cock slowly growing harder against your leg.
It never seemed to take very much. Sometimes all Valko needed was the chance to hold you, breathe you in, and melt into your arms before his body quietly betrayed just how deeply every little touch, every shared breath, and every ounce of closeness affected him.
“Let’s get inside,” he said then, pushing himself up off you with an easy smile.
You both reached for the blankets together, peeling them back before slipping beneath the cool, silky sheets. The fabric glided pleasantly against your warm skin, a welcome contrast to the lingering Spring warmth outside, though neither of you bothered pulling the comforter any higher than your legs. There was hardly any point when Valko radiated enough warmth to rival the afternoon sun itself. He had always been your own personal furnace, and before you’d even fully settled into the mattress, you already knew exactly how the two of you would end up.
You rolled comfortably onto your side, smiling to yourself as he instinctively followed. Just like always, he gathered you into him from behind. His broad, bare chest molded against your back as he gently pulled you closer until there wasn’t the slightest bit of space left between your bodies. The sheer size of him seemed to swallow you whole in the safest way imaginable, his six-foot-two frame naturally enveloping yours until it felt less like being held and more like disappearing into the warmth of a living, breathing blanket. One heavy arm settled snugly around your waist, drawing you flush against him with lazy possessiveness, while his other slipped beneath your neck before curling over your shoulder. His large hand came to rest against your bare upper arm, and his fingertips began tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin so delicately that a pleasant trail of goosebumps bloomed in their wake.
You sighed softly, completely giving in to him. When he lazily nudged one long leg between yours, you welcomed it without a second thought, letting yourself sink farther back against the familiar shape of his body until you fit together as naturally as two puzzle pieces. The steady rise and fall of his breathing warmed the back of your neck, his heartbeat thumped gently against your spine, and the faint scent of sunshine, fresh air, and his woodsy cologne wrapped comfortably around you. The two of you let out quiet sighs at almost the exact same moment, your bodies relaxing together as every lingering ounce of tension melted away beneath the comforting tangle of blankets, limbs, and familiar affection.
“This is the fucking life,” he murmured happily behind you, his deep voice rumbling sleepily through his chest and vibrating pleasantly against your back, “the sun’s shining…Birds are chirping…Pups are playing outside screaming their little heads off…”
A quiet laugh escaped you as you melted farther into his embrace, instinctively snuggling closer until there wasn’t the slightest space left between your bodies. You arched ever so slightly, pressing your back more firmly against the broad warmth of his chest, and the contented little squeeze that immediately answered from his arms told you he’d been hoping you’d do exactly that. His embrace tightened around your waist with sleepy affection, holding you as though the simple act of keeping you close was as necessary as breathing.
It was impossible not to notice the growing firmness resting against the curve of your ass through the thin layers of your underwear and his briefs. It nestled there naturally, warm and unmistakable, not demanding anything of you so much as quietly betraying how profoundly he responded to nothing more than lying tangled together like this. It made you smile. Valko had always been hopelessly honest with his body, and somehow that vulnerability only made moments like these feel all the more intimate.
Everything around you seemed to settle into a peaceful rhythm. You felt him breathe you in again. His nose buried itself against the side of your neck, drawing another long, slow inhale that lingered until it filled his lungs completely, and the arm around your waist tightened almost unconsciously. His large hand wandered over your bare skin with slow, absentminded affection, kneading your hip and side as though he wished he could somehow mold you even closer to him. It was never enough. No matter how close you already were, he always seemed to crave another inch, another touch, another breath of you, and there was something undeniably endearing about how unapologetically clingy he became whenever the two of you were finally alone.
Truthfully…You couldn’t get enough of him either. The slow rhythm of his breathing against the back of your neck sent pleasant shivers dancing beneath your skin, every warm exhale making the fine hairs along your arms stand on end. His steady heartbeat pulsed comfortably against your back while the comforting heat of his much larger body wrapped around you like another blanket, coaxing you into melting even farther into his embrace. Without even thinking about it, you arched your spine just enough to nestle yourself more snugly against him, pushing the soft curve of your ass back into the warmth of his groin.
The quiet little movement earned an immediate response. He let out the faintest contented breath against your neck as his hips instinctively followed yours, smothering himself flush against you until there wasn’t the slightest space left between your bodies, “God, c’mere…”
You almost shuddered at the syrupy mutter by your ear. The growing firmness beneath the thin fabric of his briefs settled naturally against you, warm and unmistakable, while his large hand slipped lower to your hip, kneading the bare skin there with slow, possessive affection before giving you a lingering squeeze that drew you even closer. He seemed almost desperate to erase the last traces of distance between you, holding you as though no amount of closeness would ever truly satisfy him, and the quiet need in that simple gesture sent another wave of warmth unfurling low inside you.
The quiet intimacy lingered for another heartbeat before you felt him shift. He rose just enough behind you for his face to find your ear, and a ticklish giggle escaped you as the gentle scrape of his fangs caught your earlobe in the lightest teasing nip. The playful bite was immediately soothed by the softness of his lips, which barely brushed beneath your ear before trailing feather-light along the curve of your jaw. Every lingering kiss sent another pleasant shiver racing down your spine, and warmth slowly unfurled low in your stomach as you relaxed beneath the quiet affection of his touch.
He lingered there for a moment, breathing you in once more before speaking in that warm, shameless voice of his, so close that the words ghosted across your skin, “babe…Can I put it in you?”
You let out an exaggerated little gasp, twisting just enough within the warmth of his embrace to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes met his heavy-lidded golden gaze, watching it slowly travel over your face with that familiar mixture of tender affection and shameless need that always made your stomach flutter. He looked thoroughly intoxicated by you already, and the quiet yearning softening his features somehow made the enormous werewolf behind you seem impossibly sweet despite the unmistakable heat simmering beneath the surface.
“At your family’s house?” You chided softly, “Valko…”
“Please?” He pleaded, his voice dropping into that warm, hopeful murmur that always surfaced whenever he wanted something from you badly enough to stop pretending he had any dignity. His fingertips were already wandering lazily over the curve of your hip, stroking slow circles into your bare skin before slipping lower to trace the elastic band of your panties with featherlight affection that made your skin pebble beneath his touch, “it’s ot like either of us are gonna make a ruckus, I just wanna be inside you…”
God. He could be so unbelievably, endearingly pathetic. The quiet honesty in his voice melted whatever teasing resistance you’d been pretending to have left. Smiling to yourself, you reached down between your thighs and hooked your thumbs beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly easing them down over your hips. Valko barely let you do any of the work before his large hands eagerly joined yours, helping guide the fabric over the swell of your ass with unmistakable impatience, though every touch somehow remained impossibly gentle. The thin material slipped down to your thighs, bunching there while his eyes lingered shamelessly on the newly exposed curve of your body, drinking you in with the kind of appreciation that always made heat bloom through your chest.
His turn came just as quickly. He hooked his own briefs down his hips, impatiently shoving them past his thighs before stubbornly kicking the tangled fabric somewhere toward the foot of the bed without bothering to look where they landed. The quiet huff of determination it took to free himself made you smile to yourself, because even now, when all he wanted was to hold you, Valko still somehow managed to be adorably clumsy.
His hand returned to you immediately. It settled warmly against the small of your back before gliding lower, encouraging rather than forcing as you instinctively arched away from his chest. You gave him exactly what he was silently asking for, lifting your hips just enough for your lower back to curve while he kept your ass aligned with him. The position tilted your pelvis backward, leaving your pussy presented beautifully behind you, and the stretch through your body felt surprisingly good as his broad palm lingered there, proudly admiring the view you’d given him.
A quiet breath escaped your lips. You were already soaked. You could feel it yourself before he ever touched you. Behind you, his cock had grown fully hard from nothing more than holding you, breathing you in, and feeling your body melt against his, and the moment he finally guided himself closer, you felt the warm, heavy head of his cock drag slowly through the slickness gathered between your folds. He didn’t rush it. He simply traced himself along your wet pussy from behind with agonizing patience, coating himself in you with one slow, deliberate glide that made your breath catch in your throat. The intimate drag of him against your slick heat sent a delicious shiver rolling through your spine, and you couldn’t help arching a little farther into him, silently inviting more as he breathed out a quiet, satisfied sigh against the back of your neck.
“You’re wet,” he whispered with delight, carefully aligning himself behind you.
“Mm…” You answered lazily, your voice soft with contentment as you reached back and cupped one side of your ass, gently pulling yourself open to give the monstrosity you knew his cock was the room it always demanded.
It was a familiar ritual by now. No matter how many times the two of you had made love, the sheer size of him still required patience, your body instinctively preparing itself to welcome something so much larger than you. You felt the warm, velvety head of his cock nudge teasingly between your slick folds, gathering another slow coating of your arousal before he eased himself forward. The pressure built gradually, deliciously, until the thick crown finally breached your tight entrance, stretching you open around him with an intimate fullness that drew matching gasps from both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as your walls instinctively hugged him, slowly yielding inch by inch while your body greedily welcomed him deeper, the delicious ache blooming through your hips and lower belly in a way that made your toes curl beneath the sheets.
Instinct took over before you even thought about it. Your hand reached back to grip his powerful forearm where it rested behind you, your fingers squeezing hard enough to feel the firm muscle shift beneath your palm as you quietly braced yourself for the seemingly endless stretch of him. He entered you with painstaking patience, letting your body accommodate every thick inch instead of rushing, his breathing growing slower and heavier against the back of your neck while your pussy fluttered and tightened around him, drawing him farther inside with every shallow breath you took.
The steady pressure only continued until, at last, his chiseled hips settled flush against the soft curve of your ass, burying themselves there with a slow, indulgent smother that left you feeling impossibly full. His free hand immediately sought your hip, gripping it with just enough firmness to ground himself against the overwhelming relief of finally being where he’d wanted to be, and a warm sigh escaped him into your hair before he leaned down to press a lingering kiss against the crown of your head. The tender little gesture sent a trail of goosebumps dancing down your spine, the contrast between his immense size and his quiet affection making your heart swell just as much as your body.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. You simply felt him. You felt the slow, steady pulse of his cock buried so deeply inside you that every faint throb reverberated through your sensitive walls, and your own body answered with involuntary little squeezes that seemed to make him melt all over again. The room had fallen wonderfully still around the two of you. The sounds outside drifted through the room like distant echoes while the two of you remained tucked safely beneath the cool sheets, hidden away in your own quiet world.
Valko gathered you even closer without a word. His hips gave a few absentminded little nudges, not real thrusts so much as sleepy, instinctive attempts to smother himself impossibly deeper, as though his body simply refused to accept that there could still be even the slightest space between you. Every tiny movement coaxed another delicious wave of fullness through you, making you unconsciously press your ass back into him while he held you tighter, his broad chest rising and falling comfortably against your back.
Eventually, the restlessness melted completely out of him. A happy little hum rumbled deep within his chest as his large hands began wandering once more, mapping your body with slow, affectionate reverence. His palms drifted over your waist, your stomach, your hips, your arms, memorizing every familiar curve as though he still hadn’t quite convinced himself you were real. No matter how many times he touched you, it never seemed enough. He loved you with his hands just as much as with his words, constantly seeking reassurance through closeness, through warmth, through simple contact.
A long, contented sigh escaped him. He draped himself lazily over you again, his heavy body settling comfortably around yours until you were wrapped once more beneath the comforting weight of his embrace. The tension gradually drained from his muscles as the peaceful afternoon worked its quiet spell over him, and after several slow, sleepy breaths, you felt the firm pulse of him nestled inside you begin to soften ever so slightly, his body relaxing completely now that he’d found exactly where he’d wanted to be all along.
“Thank you…” He whispered, his voice warm with sleepy contentment as he nuzzled into the crown of your head and pressed another lingering kiss into your hair. His arms tightened around you almost imperceptibly while he breathed you in with another quiet sigh, “man, I’ll take this over piggyback rides any day.”
A soft, drowsy laugh escaped you, the sound muffled against the pillow as you settled more comfortably into the comforting weight of his embrace. His body still surrounded yours completely, warm and heavy in the most reassuring way imaginable, his chest rising and falling slowly against your back while the steady rhythm of his breathing threatened to lull you toward sleep.
“I mean,” you murmured with amused innocence, “I think most men would prefer pussy over kids steering them around by the hair. Right, Uncle Valko?”
The laugh that burst out of him rumbled deliciously through his chest, vibrating straight through your back where you remained tucked safely against him. His whole body seemed to shake with quiet amusement, and you couldn’t help smiling as the sound wrapped around you just as comfortably as his arms did.
“That’s a good point,” he admitted between chuckles, giving your waist another absentminded squeeze as though he couldn’t help himself, “hopefully by now they’re all bugging their parents.”
He let out a contented sigh before burying his face against your hair again.
“I’m on permanent do-not-disturb,” he murmured warmly.
“And what if they come up here again?” You asked, turning just enough in his embrace to glance back at him over your shoulder.
His expression softened immediately when your eyes met. One of his hands slipped from your waist to your face, his broad palm cradling your cheek while his fingers lovingly swept a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. His fingertips lingered there, gently combing through your hair before slowly raking across your scalp in a way that sent pleasant little shivers dancing down your neck. He smiled at you with that impossibly fond look that always made it seem as though there wasn’t another person in the world worth looking at.
“I’ll call their parents and explain that I’m busy with a certain some—”
Your elbow found his ribs before he could finish.
“Ow!” He yelped, immediately grabbing your forearm with exaggerated offense while a laugh threatened to betray him all over again, “kidding, babe. Damn. Relax.”
You couldn’t stop the satisfied smile spreading across your face, “good.”
Turning back toward the pillow, you nestled comfortably against him once more, deliberately tugging his arm tighter around yourself until there wasn’t an inch of distance left between your bodies. You pulled his hand beneath your cheek, using his warm palm as an absurdly comfortable pillow while your fingers curled around his wrist in an affectionate hug. He didn’t protest in the slightest. If anything, he looked entirely pleased to have become part of your bed.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you do,” you mock threatened.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you always say, Hunter Girl,” he teased, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he playfully pinched your cheek between his fingers. Before you could retaliate, he leaned over you to nuzzle affectionately against the side of your face, pressing a lingering kiss to the cheek closest to him before rubbing his nose lightly against your skin, “you can’t get rid of me even if you tried. We’re bound together forever, destined to fight to the death to protect our kin.”
A quiet, weary sigh slipped from your lips, though it carried more thought than exasperation as you stared toward the sunlight spilling softly through the sheer curtains, “…You really think it’ll always be that way, with werewolves and humans?”
You felt him grow a little quieter behind you. His smile didn’t disappear, but it softened into something gentler, something touched by the weight of reality as he let out a slow breath against your hair.
“…I think we’re making a big step together towards a brighter, more peaceful future,” his voice dropped just enough that you could hear the conviction beneath it, warm and steady against your ear, “a great example that not everyone’s bad. Not everyone’s an enemy or prey.”
He paused for a moment, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand where your fingers remained wrapped around his wrist.
“But…I’d be lying if I told you it’s enough to change centuries worth of bloodbaths overnight. That’s gonna take years and years, if it even happens…” He sighed quietly, the sound carrying a sadness that wasn’t hopeless so much as accepting, “…And if it does, we won’t be around to see that kind of future. We’ll be long dead.”
The words settled heavily inside your chest. Not crushing. Just… Bittersweet.
The peaceful warmth of the room suddenly felt a little more fragile as your thoughts drifted farther ahead than they usually allowed themselves to go. You pictured decades slipping by, generations living lives neither of you would ever witness, and for a moment it became painfully clear just how small a single lifetime really was. The realization made your fingers tighten instinctively around his forearm, holding him a little more firmly as though you could somehow anchor both of you to the present.
He noticed immediately. Of course he did. Without saying another word, Valko shifted even closer until more of his considerable weight settled comfortably over you. His broad chest molded more completely against your back while his arms tightened around your waist in a slow, protective squeeze, surrounding you until you were completely enveloped in his warmth. He buried his face beside yours, brushing his nose affectionately along your cheek before pressing another lingering kiss there, his lips warm and impossibly gentle.
“It’s okay, don’t overthink it,” he murmured softly, his deep voice vibrating through his chest where it rested against your back.
He hugged you tighter, every ounce of his affection poured into the quiet strength of his embrace as though he wished he could physically shield you from worries that hadn’t even happened yet.
“Look at it this way. Whether everyone around us likes it or not, we’ll go down in history,” a faint smile returned to his voice, “we’ll carve a path that hopefully future generations can follow. Even though we won’t be around to see it, maybe our kids will. Or maybe their kids will.”
“…Yeah,” you whispered.
Your eyes drifted toward the sunlight stretching across the floor as your thoughts wandered somewhere beyond the quiet guest room, beyond the birthday party still carrying on outside, and beyond the comfortable peace the two of you had stolen for yourselves that afternoon. You found yourself imagining a future neither of you could fully predict, one filled with difficult choices, impossible expectations, and countless battles that had nothing to do with claws or weapons. Loving each other had never been the hard part. It was everything surrounding that love that would test you, and deep down you knew the resistance you’d faced so far had barely scratched the surface. This was only the beginning.
Valko let out a quiet, bittersweet laugh behind you, the sound rumbling softly through his chest where it rested against your back. His arms remained comfortably wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he couldn’t imagine spending a single second any farther away from you than this.
“Hey…” He whispered, his voice carrying that familiar mixture of warmth and melancholy, “fate’s a bitch, ain’t it?”
A quiet laugh puffed out through your nose as your fingers instinctively curled around the large hand resting beneath your cheek. His palm had long since become your pillow, warm and solid against the cool silk of the pillowcase, and you gave it an absentminded squeeze as you smiled to yourself.
“It really is,” you sighed softly, “why did it have to be you?”
He simply shrugged, though you felt the movement ripple through the broad wall of muscle pressed against your back.
“Who knows?” He answered easily, “maybe we’re meant to be the people who make a meaningful change. Maybe that’s why both of us evolved from the same primordial soup under the same circumstances. ‘Cause we’re meant to be together.”
He paused for only a heartbeat before a quiet chuckle escaped him.
“Hell…I feel lucky, honestly,” he admit, “not every werewolf finds his or her mate in life. Some never do. Most never do.”
Your brows drew together. You turned just enough within his embrace to look back at him, your head resting comfortably against his broad chest as surprise flickered across your face, “wait, really?”
“Well, yeah,” he replied, blinking at you as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I mean…What are the chances? With how many living beings inhabit the planet?”
He let out a quiet breath through his nose, shaking his head with a small, disbelieving smile.
“It’s damn near impossible to find your mate. Your true mate. Not just someone that smells good to you, but the person who smells like your missing half,” his thumb slowly stroked across the back of your hand while he spoke, absentmindedly tracing the same comforting path over and over, “so a lot of us settle. Just like humans do. We have a lot in common when it comes to partnership…But that’s one thing that sets us apart.”
His smile grew softer.
“I knew it was you the moment I smelled you for the first time,” the corners of his mouth twitched upward with amusement, “I mean, granted, you decked me in the fucking face and it was hate at first sight…”
A hearty laugh burst out of you before you could stop it, the memory replaying so vividly in your mind that you could practically feel the sting in your knuckles all over again. Back then, Valko hadn’t been the warm, affectionate man wrapped around you beneath cool sheets on a peaceful Spring afternoon. He’d been the enemy. The infuriating, arrogant werewolf standing directly in your way. You’d wanted absolutely nothing to do with him, and judging by the black eye you’d happily given him that day, your feelings had been made abundantly clear.
Life had a twisted sense of humor. Out of everyone in the world…It had paired the two of you together. Valko watched you laugh for another moment, his expression growing impossibly tender as though seeing you smile like that was reward enough for every hardship the two of you had endured to reach this point. He reached up with his free hand and gave your cheek another gentle pinch, his fingertips lingering there affectionately before cupping your face.
“But…” His voice grew quieter, steadier, every word carrying the weight of complete certainty as he searched your eyes, “I love you. Not just ’cause of biology.”
His thumb brushed slowly across your cheek, and the small smile he wore was so genuine it almost made your chest ache.
“I really do love you, Y/n,” he enforced.
You smiled back up at him, warmth blooming through your chest at the quiet sincerity in his eyes, unable to stop your own smile from growing a little softer in return, “I love you too, Val…Even with how punchable of a face you have.”
A hearty, genuine laugh burst out of him, rich and unrestrained, the sound vibrating pleasantly through the broad chest pressed against your back. His large hand rose to cradle your face, gently scooping your cheek into his warm palm before he leaned in to steal another kiss. His lips lingered against yours for a moment before brushing your nose with his own in an affectionate little nuzzle. You smiled against his mouth, your heart feeling impossibly full.
It was true. You loved him more deeply than you ever thought yourself capable of loving another person. Somewhere between becoming allies, becoming friends, and eventually becoming lovers, Valko had woven himself so thoroughly into the fabric of your life that you could no longer picture where yours ended and his began. You craved his company before anyone else’s. You laughed until your stomach hurt because of him. You trusted him with every vulnerable piece of yourself, and somewhere along the way, he’d begun trusting you just as completely with every vulnerable piece of himself.
Together, you’d become something steady, something unshakable despite every obstacle that had tried to tear you apart. He was your safe place after every difficult day, your greatest comfort, your loudest laugh, your strongest shoulder, your fiercest protector, and somehow also the man who needed you just as much as you needed him. You genuinely couldn’t imagine walking through the rest of your life without him so deeply intertwined with your own.
The quiet guest room seemed to breathe around the two of you as you settled back into the peaceful tangle of limbs beneath the cool silk sheets. The world beyond the room continued moving without you, but inside these four walls, time itself seemed content to slow. Neither of you spoke again for a while. You simply existed together. His fingertips continued their slow, absentminded journey across your hip, tracing gentle circles that buzzed pleasantly beneath your skin until you hovered somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.
Every lazy caress coaxed another contented sigh from your chest, your body relaxing more completely into the familiar weight surrounding you. At some point, your bra disappeared beneath the blankets with quiet, sleepy cooperation, neither of you even remembering who had reached for the clasp first, and not long afterward you lazily nudged your panties down the rest of your legs with absentminded little kicks until they vanished beneath the cool sheets alongside his discarded briefs.
Still…Neither of you actually fell asleep. You drifted. Half dreaming. Half awake. Wrapped so comfortably around one another that every slow breath, every heartbeat, and every tiny movement blurred together into a comforting haze. Valko’s hand never stopped wandering. It continued exploring you with the same quiet affection it always had, molding naturally to the curve of your hip before gliding over your waist, your stomach, your thigh, your arm, never lingering long enough to feel intentional and yet never quite settling anywhere else either. It was simply the way he loved you. He loved with touch. With closeness. With quiet reassurance that you were there, safe beneath his hands, and every slow pass of his broad palm seemed to say everything words no longer needed to.
Eventually, your own hand found his. Without opening your eyes, you gently curled your fingers around his larger hand and guided it higher, settling his warm palm over the soft fullness of your bosom while you remained curled comfortably on your side against him. The position naturally pressed your breasts together beneath his broad hand, and the contrast between his calloused skin and your softer warmth sent a pleasant shiver through you. His fingers flexed almost instinctively as they rested there, the rough pads grazing lightly across your sensitive nipples while his palm molded comfortably to your body. The gentle contact lingered, unhurried and familiar, and before long you found yourself becoming increasingly aware of every subtle stroke, every tiny shift of his hand, and every quiet sensation blooming beneath his touch until the simple intimacy of being held like this began stirring something warm and restless deep inside you once again.
Apparently…It was doing something to Valko as well. You felt it before you saw any other sign of it. The comfortable fullness of him nestled inside you gradually changed, the soft warmth slowly firming as his cock began to swell again within the welcoming confines of your body. A quiet, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you felt him throb, each slow pulse spreading deliciously through your sensitive walls while he steadily hardened, growing more solid with every passing heartbeat. At nearly the same moment, his thumb lazily swept across your nipple in one slow, indulgent stroke, the rough pad of his fingertip grazing the sensitive peak just enough to coax a pleasant shiver from the base of your spine.
Oh…Your stomach fluttered. Was this really heading where you thought it was? It was. God…It absolutely was. Without either of you speaking a single word, his broad hand slowly drifted away from your breasts, lingering over the soft curve of your body as it traced a leisurely path down your stomach. His palm molded comfortably against your waist before continuing lower until it reached your thigh. His touch remained unhurried, almost absentminded in its tenderness, yet there was unmistakable purpose beneath every movement. Gently, he guided your upper leg a little higher over his own, subtly adjusting the way your bodies fit together until your hips naturally opened beneath the warmth of his embrace. The new angle exposed you more fully to him, and his fingertips began the slow climb back up the inside of your thigh.
Every inch of skin they crossed seemed to wake beneath his touch. His fingers wandered higher with infuriating patience, featherlight against your warm flesh until they finally brushed your slick clit. The contact was so gentle it almost wasn’t there. Almost. A slow, buzzing warmth unfurled through your lower belly, making your breath catch as a delicious current rippled upward through your body. You instinctively tightened around him, your walls fluttering in response to the sensation, and the involuntary squeeze drew a warm sigh from Valko as he answered with a slow, appreciative press of his hips. He settled himself just a fraction deeper, the quiet movement accompanied by another contented breath that spilled warmly into your hair.
Nothing needed to be said. You understood each other far too well for words. You simply lifted your leg a little higher against him, silently giving his large hand more room to move. He accepted the invitation immediately. His fingertips began tracing slow, practiced circles over your clit, every deliberate stroke measured with the kind of familiarity that only came from loving you as intimately as he did. The rhythm was gentle, patient, almost reverent, while his hips answered in kind. He began moving inside you with the same quiet devotion, drawing himself back only enough to ease forward again in slow, affectionate strokes that let you feel every thick inch gliding through your welcoming warmth. The steady fullness of him filled you so completely that each unhurried movement seemed to melt straight through your body, drawing another soft sound from somewhere deep in your throat as pleasure gradually pooled lower and lower inside you.
Your hand reached back instinctively until your fingers found the sharp contour of his hip, holding onto him while he continued moving with sleepy, contented rhythm. Behind you, his other arm tightened protectively around your upper body, his broad hand spreading across your shoulder as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting even an inch separate the two of you. His chest remained comfortably molded against your back, every slow thrust carrying the steady warmth of his body with it while his lips occasionally brushed your hair in absentminded kisses.
It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t driven by overwhelming urgency. It was slow. Tender. Deeply affectionate. Yet somehow that only made every sensation feel more consuming. His fingers never lost their patient rhythm, circling exactly the way he knew your body liked best after loving you enough times to understand every little reaction before it happened. Every practiced stroke over your sensitive clit blended seamlessly with the languid roll of his hips, each gentle movement feeding into the next until your body responded almost on instinct. Warmth spread through you in slow waves, your breathing growing softer and less steady as pleasure steadily gathered beneath the surface. Your eyes drifted closed, your head relaxing back against his shoulder while the familiar heat coiled lower in your stomach far faster than you expected, tightening with every affectionate touch and every unhurried stroke until it hummed through you with quiet, irresistible intensity.
But Valko was unraveling behind you. Every slow roll of his hips drew another deep, shaky breath from his chest, the sound vibrating warmly along your back before dissolving into the quietest moan. He sounded utterly blissed out, lost somewhere between the lazy rhythm of his cock filling you and the comforting intimacy of simply holding you this close. There wasn’t an ounce of urgency in the way he moved. Every slow, deliberate thrust buried itself into you with indulgent patience, his hips rocking forward until they nestled flush against the soft curve of your ass before easing back only enough to begin the journey all over again. His cock glided through your slick pussy with an intimate fullness that seemed to melt the tension from every muscle in his body, and judging by the contented sounds spilling from his lips, he wasn’t thinking about anything in the world except how impossibly good you felt wrapped around him.
His fingertips, however, told a different story. While his hips remained slow and languid, his fingers had gradually found a quicker rhythm over your clit, each practiced little circle coaxing another pulse of heat through your body until your thighs trembled ever so slightly. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly how your body responded, exactly how to build you higher without ever rushing you there, and the quiet confidence born from loving you so many times only made every touch feel infinitely more intimate.
His breathing grew heavier. Quicker. Needier. The sound alone sent a pleasant shiver racing beneath your skin, every warm inhale brushing the back of your neck before spilling into another unsteady sigh. His entire body seemed to radiate quiet want, surrounding you completely until it felt impossible to tell where your own warmth ended and his began. He tucked himself even closer behind you, his broad chest molding more firmly against your back while his arm instinctively tightened around your upper body, drawing you impossibly deeper into the shelter of his embrace. Then his lips found your ear.
“Oh, fuck…” He breathed, his voice rough with barely restrained pleasure, each word ghosting hotly across your skin, “oh my God…”
His next slow thrust drew another helpless sound from somewhere deep in his chest before he whispered your name with such naked reverence it made your heart skip.
“Y/n…” He breathed hotly, “Y/n, your pussy…”
Your entire body tightened around him. The low, lewd rasp of his voice poured straight into your ear like warm, rich honey, thick with want and so utterly sincere that it stole the breath from your lungs. He had absolutely no right saying your name like that. No right making it sound so treasured, so adored, so devastatingly erotic that every syllable seemed to settle beneath your skin and bloom there. It wasn’t just the words themselves. It was the way he said them, every ounce of need woven openly into his voice without embarrassment or restraint, as though speaking your name while buried inside you was the most honest thing he’d ever done. A pleasant wave of goosebumps rippled across your arms. Your pussy fluttered helplessly around him again.
“Shit,” he groaned, the word slipping out on another shaky breath as his broad hand spread firmly across your stomach, holding you securely against him while his other hand quickened over your clit.
The slow, affectionate rhythm of his hips never faltered, each deep stroke filling you completely before easing away only to sink home again with the same indulgent fullness.
“Baby…” His voice cracked ever so slightly beneath the weight of his own longing, “let me knot you…”
Another slow thrust, another desperate breath against your ear.
“Oh, let me knot you…” His voice lowered with need.
Heat surged violently into your cheeks at his plea, blooming all the way down your neck as the image alone sent another pulse of desire curling low in your stomach. You could already feel the first signs of it happening inside you. His hips pressed more firmly against the curve of your ass from behind, the slow, loving rhythm taking on a deeper, more instinctive urgency as though every part of him was quietly surrendering to something older than thought. His large hand tightened over you without becoming rough, anchoring securely across your stomach, keeping you exactly where he wanted you while the other fingered you. It wasn’t force. It was need. Pure, aching, animal need that poured through every deliberate roll of his hips as he continued rutting into your slick, welcoming pussy with slow, passionate devotion.
You could feel every powerful muscle working beneath his skin. Every flex of his abdomen. Every subtle shift of his hips. Every inch of his body moved yours along with it as he rocked into you, his thick cock gliding so deeply through your pussy that each unhurried thrust seemed to melt another layer of tension from your body. His fingertips never lost their practiced rhythm over your clit, circling with infuriating precision until the mounting pleasure became almost unbearable. The steady, delicious friction coaxed the first involuntary flutter from your tight walls, your pussy squeezing him so suddenly and so completely that a broken groan escaped his throat behind you.
“You’re so close…”
The sound alone sent another rush of heat through you. You felt him throb harder inside you. Then you felt something else. The unmistakable swell gathering at the base of his cock began to press more insistently past your entrance, gradually growing thicker with every slow, deep stroke. It made his rhythm change almost without him realizing it. He stopped drawing himself as far back, each thrust becoming shorter, deeper, more possessive than the last as though his body had already decided it wasn’t letting you go anywhere. Every roll of his hips buried him until he met that delicious resistance, his cock settling into a depth that made your breath catch as the growing knot teased insistently at your body. The sensation alone sent your thoughts spinning, your stomach burning hotter and hotter with every passing second while his thumb continued rubbing slow circles over your swollen clit with unwavering devotion.
You were trembling now. Your thighs quivered. Tiny, helpless twitches rippled through your body as pleasure steadily tightened lower and lower inside you, your breathing dissolving into soft, broken whispers while his strong arms held you securely through every shudder. You could barely keep still. Every affectionate thrust, every slow grind of his hips, every practiced stroke of his fingers coaxed another helpless squeeze from your pussy around his cock until you weren’t sure whether you were clinging to him or simply falling apart in his arms. Your nails dug into his forearms without thinking, holding onto the solid strength beneath your fingertips as though he were the only thing keeping you grounded while the tightening coil inside your belly wound itself impossibly tighter.
“Do it,” you urged, your voice escaping in nothing more than a breathless whisper, every word trembling with anticipation as you surrendered completely to the overwhelming warmth building inside you., “w-want you to knot me like last night…”
Your lifted thigh finally gave out beneath the mounting intensity, dropping back down as your legs instinctively squeezed together around his wrist. The movement trapped his hand exactly where you needed it most, and before you were even consciously aware of what you were doing, your hips began helplessly rocking against his palm. You shamelessly humped the steady pressure of his hand, chasing every practiced circle of his fingertips over your swollen clit while he answered with growing desperation of his own. His touch became just a little quicker, just a little firmer, every stroke perfectly familiar after loving you enough times to know precisely what your body begged for when you were this close. At last, heaven graced you.
The tightening coil inside your stomach snapped. Pleasure exploded through you in a blinding wave of white-hot ecstasy that stole every coherent thought from your mind. Your entire body seized in his embrace as your pussy clamped down around his thick cock, fluttering violently while your back arched into the broad wall of his chest. A helpless cry tried to tear its way out of you, but Valko’s free hand rose immediately to cover your mouth, his warm palm gently muffling every broken sound as you trembled uncontrollably against him.
“Cumming,” you cried breathlessly into his hand, your voice dissolving into desperate little whimpers as each pulse of pleasure rolled through you harder than the last, “I’m cumming, Val…I’m cumming, I’m cumming…”
“C-cum on it,” he practically growled, his voice rough, tight, and trembling with overwhelming bliss as he shuddered once, then again, his entire body quaking against yours, “fuck yeah…Cum on it, baby…Just like that…I’m—…Oh God, I’m about—…”
Your climax squeezed him relentlessly. Every helpless flutter of your tight walls milked another broken groan from somewhere deep in his chest, and then you felt him finally let go. Warmth surged deep inside you in slow, powerful pulses, each release painting your insides with familiar heat that spread through your body in delicious waves. You had grown to love that feeling almost as much as you loved the man giving it to you, and you sighed helplessly into his palm as every pulse seemed to melt another piece of you beneath the quiet intensity of the moment.
He was shaking. You felt it everywhere. His thighs trembled against yours. His chest quivered against your back. Even the arm wrapped protectively around your waist tightened instinctively as though he needed something solid to anchor himself while wave after wave overtook him. His hips settled completely flush against the soft curve of your ass, refusing to leave even the slightest space between your bodies while he held you as close as physically possible, his cock seeking its deepest home inside you as his body slowly surrendered to its own overwhelming relief.
Then you felt it. The knot finished swelling. The thick base of him gradually expanded until it settled securely inside you, stretching you with slow, insistent fullness that left him comfortably lodged where he belonged. There was nowhere else for either of you to go now, and neither of you seemed remotely interested in trying. His hips gave one final, lazy press before relaxing completely, and a long, slow breath poured from his lips as every powerful muscle in his body finally loosened beneath the comforting haze of exhaustion.
Valko became deliciously heavy against you. His heartbeat hammered steadily through his chest into your damp back, strong enough that you could feel every beat while his warm skin glistened faintly with the sheen of sweat gathered from the slow, affectionate intensity you’d shared together. His breathing gradually evened out into long, contented sighs as he remained wrapped securely around you, making no effort whatsoever to move away. Instead, he simply nuzzled into your hair once more and pressed the softest kiss to the crown of your head, lingering there as though he couldn’t resist one more quiet expression of affection.
His fingers, still slightly shaky from everything you’d just shared, resumed their slow, absentminded caresses over your stomach and arm, tracing gentle paths across your skin while a blissfully content hum rumbled from deep within his chest. You could hear the smile in it before you ever saw it, and somehow that quiet, happy sound was every bit as intimate as the embrace that still held you so completely in his arms.
You stayed like that for a long while, neither of you feeling the slightest urge to move. The room had fallen beautifully quiet again, save for the slow rhythm of your breathing gradually finding each other until your inhales and exhales seemed to rise and fall in perfect unison. His embrace never loosened. If anything, the enormous werewolf only seemed to melt more completely around you, holding you with the same instinctive tenderness he’d shown from the moment you’d slipped beneath the blankets together. His hand continued its lazy, absentminded journey over your stomach, your waist, and your arm, every slow caress so familiar and reassuring that it felt less like touching and more like quietly reminding himself you were still there.
His face rested against your hair, and every now and then he would press another feather-light kiss to the crown of your head, the gesture so absentminded it felt entirely instinctive. A contented little hum still rumbled in his chest from time to time, vibrating softly through your back as though happiness itself had settled somewhere deep inside him.
Your eyelids gradually grew heavier. The steady beat of his heart against your back, the comforting warmth of his body surrounding yours, and the slow, affectionate rhythm of his wandering fingertips gently pulled you toward sleep one soothing moment at a time. Nestled securely in his arms, you let yourself drift, your breathing evening out as the last lingering thoughts quietly dissolved beneath the simple comfort of being exactly where you belonged.
Wrapped together beneath cool silk sheets, hidden away from the lively celebration downstairs, the two of you surrendered to the quiet afternoon, dozing peacefully to the sound of birdsong and laughing children beyond the windows while the world, for just a little while, allowed you both to simply exist together.
synopsis : it's not like you purposely meant to condition your sweet werewolf boy to come on command. but hey, he's gotta prove that he's got plenty of energy stored up, right?
cw : unapologetically horny, breeding, oral, tummy bulge, mating press, doggy, overstim, spanking, knotting, not proof read, etc
a/n : day five of coping. enjoy some shameless smut with our woflie 💚
"o-one more, you can take one more for me, right angel?" he growls from the crook of your neck. he's got your legs thrown over his shoulders, chest pressed against yours, and if you were coherent enough you would've realized that at some point in the last 10 minutes, he slid a pillow underneath your hips, making every thrust of his cock hit in that spot that makes your thighs tremble.
valko usually has good patience. he can take the teasing, the light touches on the base of his ears, the way your hands linger a bit too long when you pet his tail. even during those heated moments, he'd much rather spend hours buried between your thighs, lapping and slurping up the slick that he swears his life on.
and it would've rolled out just like that, when just a few hours ago when you were settled in his lap. it was innocent enough- at least, as much as it can be when he's got his hands on you hips, grinding you against him while he alternates between kissing you breathless and biting the spot under under your collar. his tail curls around your waist, and it's almost instinctual the way the words smoothly come out from you lips, whispered and breathy.
"g-good boy..."
his grip on you tightens, and you watch the way his eyes blow up completely. valko's entire body shudders, before he buries his head down onto you.
"V-val?! what's wrong, are you-"
"stop talking, angel,"
"are you okay? do you need me to move-"
valko's arms wrap around you, a silent stay put. he's still shaking, and as you try to shift on him, you feel it. or rather, feel the way he just came undone.
"did you just-"
"no,"
it hits you like an absolute truck. the shock in your face slowly morphs into something akin to mischief. you gently pull valko's face up, making him look you in the eyes. his head tilts in that adorable, embarrassed puppy way, and you almost feel bad for what you're about to test out.
almost.
your smile is deceptively sweet, hands cradling his face while your lips ghost his own.
"good boy,"
the reaction is instantaneous. valko's eyes shut close, his tail just about wraps around you fully, and his hips rut upward as he comes undone, once again, to those two words alone.
and gods forbid you let out a soft laugh. not to shame him, but at the realization you've discovered. you should've realized it sooner, really. anytime valko does anything you've deemed deserve the phrase- his reaching something on the top shelf "aww, good boy, thank you valko!", when he sits still while you brush out the knots in his ears "good boy, I know I know just one more tangle", or when he's made you come on his face for the nth time "nghh, good boy, thank you-!".
the way his teeth graze your neck brings you back, and you're suddenly very aware on how he's flipped you over. you're rolled onto your stomach, hips lifted up and back deliciously arched. he's got you on his hands and knees.
his hand runs from the low of your back, tracing up your spine before trailing up into your hair. his grip is just firm enough where you help out a soft moan at the sensation.
his cock lines up at your entrance, warm and waiting. he's cooing, voice crazed and utterly depraved for you.
"shh, it's okay, baby. just one more for me, yeah?" you nod feverishly, body trembling with anticipation, hips trying to chase after him. the growl he lets out is nothing short of animalistic, before he pushes in with one smooth, devastating thrust.
with how he's got you, the stretch is somehow deeper and fuller and somehow got you wanting more. valko bottoms out, hand big and heavy on your ass before landing a nasty smack!
"look at you," he breaths out. you feel him lean forward, his chest- sculpted and defined- flushed against your back. the way he kisses your shoulder blades are such a gentle contrast to the way he's filling you up, deeper fuller than you've ever been.
his hand depends down, wrapping around you before settling on your stomach, right over where...
"you feel that?" your mind is all buzzed with him, so when he lands another slap in the same spot that's already red with his hand print, is when you process just what he's talking about.
valko can feel the cogs turning, and he pulls back just an inch before thrusting back in. his hand is still pressed against your stomach, his breath hot against your neck.
"that's right, that's me. so fucking deep inside you." he pulls all the way back, slow and excruciating, before thrusting back in- impossibly harder this time, a sharp snap of his hips that makes you gasp out.
"fuck-! that's it, taking me so well, angel. look at you, 's like you were made for me," his pace starts slow, each thrust a deliberate drag that makes you cry out. he's not doing any better on top of you, his ears flat against his skull, muscles flexed and straining out.
"you feel that?" his voice shudder out as he presses his hand down, "that's me. inside you. fucking you. claiming you." his movements speed up, his thrusts less and less precise as he chases both your highs.
"tell me- please, tell me I'm doing good," he lifts your hips higher, pulling his cock all the way out before pushing in to make sure you feel all of him, "please, angel-!"oh, and how could you deny the request of your wolf?
"g-good boy!"
a full body tremor shocks through him, his grip on you so tight that it's hard to tell where he starts and you end. A raw and broken sound tears from his throat.
"f-fuck, angel-!"
his hips drive forward, desperate and devastating as his release crashes through him. you feel him pulse inside you, the way your body surrenders to the pleasure. it's the way that you can feel him falling apart, just from you, that causes your own walls to clench around him, your moans swallowed by his pillows underneath you.
valko falls forward, catching himself before flipping you over. he's cradling you against his chest, voice raspy and hushed as he kisses your forehead. you feel it- his knot swelling up, locking you two together into a slick, exhasted mess.
his hand gently lifts your chin, and he finds your lips. he kisses you like he has no time to waste.
"thank you," he murmurs, soft and genuine. he pulls you close, getting you comfortable. it's be a while before his knot swells down, but right now, all that exists is the way his heart beats in sync to yours.
i will never stop writing for him. wait for me, my wolf.
I have my trinity but I'm a harem girly in spirit 🥰
(Note: Mainly just fluff. I just need some happy vibes to cope with everything going on in with this game and I'm still including Valko regardless😌 AWOOOOO🐺)
Divider credit: @cillmequick 🥰
I can picture Caleb, Valko, and Raf being the main clingy trio that's always fighting over who gets to cuddle with you first and whining about why it should be them.
🍎: We know all know I'm the favorite so obviously I'm going first. Tell em, Pips 😌
🐺: In your dreams. Just cuz you THINK you're the top dog here doesn't mean you are. She needs some REAL cuddle material and we all know that's ME. *flicks his wolf ears and tail for emphasis*
🐠: OBVIOUSLY, both of you beasts would crush my beloved bride. She needs the gentle touch and caress of a true artiste and since I'm the only one here with the actual credentials...I will be the one cuddling my cutie.
You're laughing at them going back and forth cause it's cute. Xavier is sitting on the other couch with his usual pout since he's still a jealous bunbun sometimes.
Xav finally gets up and mumbles something about cooking himself something to eat.
You're on immediate high alert cause you're not about to have a repeat of the last time he tried cooking and immediately start following him...which is exactly what he wanted.
Xavier turns once you get close and catches you in a warm hug
🌟: Caught you, Bunny..
And now he's teleporting you to his room away from the others and next thing you hear is those 3 cursing Xav's name from downstairs and calling him a cheater.
Xavier tosses you gently on the bed, glad to finally have you to himself...and then before you know it, you're surrounded by familiar black and red tendrils...aaaand now finding yourself back in the living room bring cradled by Sylus.
🐦⬛: Sounds like some people need a lesson in sharing, Kitten.
Xav teleports back down and now the room is a chorus of all of them bickering back and forth.
Zayne is used to tuning out the chaos that is yall's usual shenanigans and is just chilling in the loveseat while reading through some of his work reports. He knows he wouldn't have it any other way though even if he never says it out loud 😉
Finally it's a little too much and you finally speak up:
"Zayniiie....all this moving around has me overheated...can I get some help please? 🥺"
All the guys pause and zero in on Zayne and that tell tale smirk on his face as he sets down his papers and comes and scoops you up before making his way back to the bedroom.
❄️: As much as I enjoy getting to be your personal cooling system, surely you're aware there are more efficient means of getting us all to cuddle with you.
You give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But then where's the fun in that?"
3...2...1
You hear the footsteps as the rest of your loves follow you both down the hallway and into the bedroom, the Alaskan King Size bed just waiting for the cuddle session that will forever remind you that your favorite place to be is with all of them 🥰
(Sorry it's been so long since I've written but I wanted to start with something light. Hope you enjoyed it 🥰)
11. "I know baby" while you are cumming with Caleb.
🔞MDNI🔞
Click here for more of the Horny Thoughts list.
The silence was the worst part.
Thirty two days of it. It was not like the comfortable quiet of your apartment on a Sunday morning, it was something heavier, pressing down on your chest until every breath felt like work. You'd developed routines around it without meaning to. Checking your phone at the same times every day. Sitting on the edge of your bed in the dark, watching the notification light on your watch for something that never came. Eating when you remembered to. Sleeping when you couldn't stay awake anymore.
The Fleet had given you nothing.
You weren't official family. That was the problem, the one that the Farspace Fleet kept running into every time you called. Childhood bonds didn't have paperwork. Shared trauma didn't have a form number. The promise made in the darkness of his room more than a year ago didn't hold any legal weight, and so every time you called you got the same automated voice, the same words in the same order.
The expedition into the deepspace flux zone is ongoing. All communications are classified under Level 4 security protocols.
You'd stopped counting how many times you'd heard it.
A week ago rumors started moving through the hunter channels, spreading fast and going quiet the moment an official walked into a room. A collapse inside the tunnel. A squadron cut off from the extraction point. You'd cornered a senior officer at the Association headquarters and watched her look at everything in the room except your face while she told you to prepare for the worst. As if that was a sentence you were supposed to absorb and go home.
They were writing him off. Filling in forms. Moving toward the moment where they'd call it officially and send you a letter with his name at the top and a condolences paragraph at the bottom, and the universe would have taken him from you a second time. The first time had been the explosion. You'd been clueless then, and the grief had carved something out of you that had never fully grown back. Thirty two days of silence and you could feel those same edges again, the same hollow shape of a loss you didn't know how to survive this time.
You'd spent the last two days crying under your duvet without a reason to come out.
2:14 AM. The front door clicked.
You sat up so fast the blood rushed out of your head. Sat completely still in the dark, heart hammering, telling yourself it was nothing— probably a neighbor's door, your own exhausted mind making up sounds it wanted to hear. You'd been doing that. Hearing things. Seeing his face in the corner of your eye on the street and turning to find a stranger.
Heavy footsteps in the hallway. A duffel bag dropped onto the hardwood floor. The weight of it, the carelessness of someone too exhausted to set something down gently, sent something electric straight up your spine.
You got out of bed. Your legs weren't entirely reliable. You caught the door frame, steadied yourself, crossed the hallway on autopilot with your heart somewhere in your throat.
The bathroom light was on. Through the glass the steam was already building, the shower ran hard and hot, and you could smell it from the doorway—your shampoo.
You pushed the door open.
The steam rolled out around you, warm and thick, and through the clear panel of the shower glass—
Caleb.
He didn't know you were there yet.
He was standing under the water with his forehead pressed against the tile, shoulders rising and falling. The water was too hot—you could tell because the steam was already thick enough to blur the far wall—but he wasn't adjusting it. Just standing in it. Letting it hit the back of his neck and run down the lines of his shoulders to carry whatever he'd brought back with him down the drain.
His skin was pale, the kind of pale that came from a month without real sunlight, and every muscle in his back was wound so tight it looked painful.
He looked like he had fought his way to a door and wasn't entirely sure yet that he'd made it through.
His head turned.
His eyes found yours through the condensation and steam, bloodshot from lack of sleep and completely awake in an instant, and the look on his face when he saw you standing there—the unguarded relief of it—hit you somewhere behind your ribs and stayed there.
He reached back to shut the water off then stepped out without reaching for a towel, water running off his shoulders and chest, steam rising off his skin. He looked different. Harder at the edges. Several days of dark stubble caught the harsh bathroom light and he looked nothing like the man who'd kissed you goodbye a month ago, or he looked exactly like that man, just with everything worn closer to the surface, less of it contained.
Neither of you spoke. You weren't sure you could. The reality of him standing in front of you—breathing, dripping water onto the floor—was still making its way through days of silence and the grief of someone who had already lost him once and had spent the last forty eight hours preparing to do it again.
"Caleb." It came out barely a sound.
He crossed the bathroom floor in three steps, water trailing behind him, and his hand wrapped around your wrist. His grip was warm, real and it made your eyes sting immediately. He didn't say anything. He just held you for a moment, his thumb pressed against your pulse point, and let you feel that he was there.
He kept hold of your wrist the whole way. Down the hall, through the door of your room, until your shoulders found a wall and he stopped in front of you. The sight of him, still yours, broke something open in your chest that you'd been holding very carefully shut.
"Caleb,—the fleet, they—I thought you were—"
"I'm right here." His voice came out rough, scraped down to something raw and unrecognizable, nothing of his usual warmth in it yet. "Forget what they said. I'm right here. I'm safe."
He placed his palms against the wall on either side of your head, steadying the space around you like he always had. The heat coming off his skin was startling against the cool air of the bedroom. You looked up at him, at the dark sharp lines of his jaw and the thick stubble that made him look exhausted and more real than anything you'd let yourself imagine in the last four weeks.
"Look at you," he said quietly, eyes moving over your face, your shaking hands, "Why are you trembling. It's okay." His voice dropped further. "I've got you."
"I thought you were dead." The first sob broke through before you could stop it "They wouldn't tell me anything, Caleb. They told me to prepare for the worst, I didn't know what that—fuck, I did know what it meant and I couldn't—"
"I know." He pulled you away from the wall and buried his face in the curve of your neck, you felt the rough drag of his stubble against your skin and gasped. He breathed you in slowly, deeply, his whole chest expanding against yours. "I know what they're like." His arms tightened around you. "But I promised you. I have always promised you. I fought my way out of that tunnel because leaving you again was not an option."
His hands moved down and without any warning he hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you clean off the floor.
You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct, hands flying to his shoulders. Your shorts rode up with the movement, bare thighs pressing against the heat of his hips.
"Baby—"
His mouth came down on yours.
It wasn't desperate in the way you'd expected. It was slower than that, deeper, a kiss that had too much behind it to rush. A month of darkness, cold and whatever he'd fought through to get back to you, all of it pressing into the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue parting your mouth in a heavy stroke that made your fingers curl into his damp hair and pull.
He shifted your weight, pressing your spine gently but firmly into the wall, and you felt the full length of his cock against you through the thin fabric of your shorts—already hard, already searching for the closeness you both needed, his hips moving in a slow rhythm that mirrored exactly what his mouth was doing.
He broke the kiss just far enough to look at you again.
"I'm here," he said, his words almost too quiet to hear. "Right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"I need—" Your voice broke, tears were streaming down your face. "Please. I need to feel you. I need to know you're actually—"
The sound that came out of him was pained. He lowered you until your feet touched the floor, keeping one arm tight around your waist, and his free hand went to your waistband, careful, guiding your shorts and underwear down together until they pooled at your ankles and you stepped out of them.
He straightened back up and you looked at each other in the quiet of the room. He was watching your face with an expression that made your throat close up again. The marks of the last month were all over him, the exhaustion, the weight loss, the hollowness around his eyes, and he was still the most beautiful man you'd ever seen.
He reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, tossing it behind him without looking. Then he was back against you, chest to chest, and the heat of his body in front of you and the cool hard wall behind you made your breath leave you all at once.
His jaw dragged down your throat. The stubble was rough and you felt every millimeter of it, that scraping friction kept pulling you back into your body every time emotion threatened to pull you out of it. He was doing it on purpose. Making sure you felt him. "Right here," he said softly against your skin. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours."
There was nothing left to say that your body wasn't already saying for you.
He hooked one of your legs over his hip, his forearm sliding under your thigh to hold you there. His free hand moved between you, guiding himself to your entrance, and he paused—just for a breath, tip pressed against your heat—eyes on your face, waiting.
"Please. Now. Ca—"
He pressed forward and you buried your face in his neck.
The sob that came out of you surprised both of you. He felt it move through you and pulled you closer, both arms wrapping around you, his hands spread wide across your back.
"I've got you," he whispered, lips against your temple. "I've got you. I'm here."
He pulled back slowly. Almost all the way. Let you feel the drag of it, the absence, and then drove back in deeper.
"Caleb—" he swallowed the sound of his name with a sound of his own, low in his chest, his forehead dropping to yours.
He began to move and there was nothing fast about it. Just you and him.
The heat built fast anyway. Your nails found his back, his shoulders, whatever you could reach, and he let you—didn't flinch, didn't shift away, just kept moving in a steady rhythm while the wet sounds of it and both of your breathing filled up the room. Your tears were still falling and you stopped trying to do anything about them, just let them come while your mouth left marks on his body.
His shoulder pulled away from your mouth.
"Look at me." Came his voice, strained, like it cost him something to speak. "Let me see you."
You lifted your head. Your vision was a bit blurry, everything fractured through tears, but you could see him clearly enough, jaw clenched, neck tight, the muscles in his face working against something he was holding back.
"You don't have to be scared anymore," he rasped, hips driving forward again, finding a shorter faster rhythm that dragged against every nerve ending you had. "I'm right here, baby. I'm staying right here."
"I was so scared—" The words broke apart before you got through them, your body clenching around him in tight pulses. "Caleb, I thought—I kept calling and they wouldn't—and then she said to prepare and I didn't—"
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to sit with that."
"Don't apologize—"
"Look at me," he said again, softer this time. "Stay with me."
He grabbed your other leg, hoisting you higher until you were fully suspended—nothing under you but him, every thrust finding someplace deeper, enough to make your whole body seize up and your head fall back against the wall.
"Oh—Caleb—I'm going to—I—"
"I've got you." He brought his face to your cheek, lips moving against the wet, salty skin there, breathing you in. "I've got you. Let go."
The past month collapsed into a single point in your chest and then detonated. Not just pleasure—though that rolled through you in long shaking waves—but everything under it. Every night staring at his empty side of the bed. Every time a voice said please await official updates. The two days under your duvet where you'd let yourself start to grieve him. All of it coming up at once, unstoppable, your whole body shaking with it while he held you against the wall and didn't let you fall.
"I love you," you sobbed into his neck, the words coming out in pieces. "I love you—I love you—"
"I know." His voice cracked on the second word. He was close. His lips pressed to your temple, your jaw, your wet cheek "I know, baby. I love you. I love you. I'm home."
He buried himself as deep as he could go, shaking, your name in his mouth like a prayer he'd been repeating for a month to keep himself moving forward.
He carried you to the bed eventually. Lay down with you still tangled against his chest, one hand moving slow up and down your back, the other tucked under his head.
"They really told you to prepare?"
"Three days ago."
He was quiet for a moment. His hand stilled on your back.
"They wouldn't tell me anything because I'm not—I'm not on any form. There's no box I fit in. I'm not—" You stopped. Felt your throat tighten again and breathed through it. "There's no paperwork that says I'm yours. So as far as they were concerned I was nobody and they owed me nothing."
Caleb didn't say anything. His chest rose and fell steadily.
"I need that to change"
"Okay," he said.
"I mean it, Caleb." You pushed yourself up onto your elbow and looked at him, his eyes were already on you. "I need it to actually change. Not someday. Not when things settle down or when the fleet rotation is easier or when we find a better time. I need—" your voice came out fierce and a little unsteady and you let it be both. "I need to be your wife. Legally. On every form and every document and every emergency contact line they have. I need there to be paperwork that says you're mine so that the next time someone tries to lock me out of a room where decisions are being made about your life, I can put it on their desk and they cannot say no to me."
He was very still.
"I'm not asking you to do something romantic," you said. "I'm not—this isn't about a ceremony or a dress or any of that, though I want all of that too, I do. I'm asking you because I spent a month being nobody to the people who had information about whether you were alive. I'm asking because I sat in this apartment with no legal right to know anything and I cannot do that again. I will not do that again."
Caleb looked at you for a long moment then he reached up and put his hand against the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.
"I've wanted to ask you, I kept waiting for the right moment."
"This is the right moment."
"You're proposing to me at four in the morning."
"I am."
The corner of his mouth pulled up. The first real version of his smile you'd seen since he walked through the door, the one that reached all the way up, the one that was so him it made your chest ache.
He pulled you back down against him, arms wrapping around you, lips pressing to the top of your head and staying there. "First thing tomorrow we go to the registration office. We fill out every form they have. We put your name on everything."
You pressed your face into his chest and closed your eyes, this time it wasn't to wait for a notification that never came.
Horny thoughts EXTRA: Caleb and Valko using a dual entry fleshlight as punishment.
Link for a visual (very NSFW) 🔞MDNI🔞
This is a gift and a thank you for the amazing ideas (including this one) to @stardustsirens 💜💜💚💚.
Check the rest of the Horny thoughts list here
For two men who had both agreed—out loud, with words, like adults—to share a relationship with you, Caleb and Valko were doing a spectacular job of acting like they'd never heard the word compromise in their lives.
It had started over breakfast.
Specifically, it had started over the fact that Caleb had taken the last of your coffee without asking and Valko had taken that personally.
"That's not what this is about and you know it," Caleb said, his voice gone quiet, that meant he was past the point of raising it. He stood in the living room with his arms crossed "You've been doing this for months. Every time I'm here you find something. The coffee, the blanket, the remote—"
"She was cold," Valko said. "I gave her the blanket because she was cold. You were sitting right next to her and you didn't notice."
"I noticed."
"You were watching the stupid game."
"I can watch the game and notice she's cold at the same time."
"Clearly not, since I'm the one who got up."
Caleb's eye twitched. Just slightly. "You got up from the other side of the room to bring her a blanket that was sitting six inches from my hand so you could—"
"So I could what, Caleb? Make sure my girlfriend wasn't cold? That's the crime we're prosecuting today?"
"She's my girlfriend too."
"Then act like it."
Caleb uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, and Valko, because Valko had never backed up from anything in his life and wasn't about to start now, also stepped forward to meet him. They ended up in the middle of the living room with their chests almost touching and matching expressions of immovable stubbornness.
"You want to talk about acting like it," Caleb said, very quietly. "Let's talk about last Tuesday."
"I'm gonna need you to be specific."
"You called her ten times, Valko."
"I was checking on her."
"Ten times. In an hour. I was with her. She didn't need to be checked on, she was fine, you just wanted to make sure I knew you were calling"
"This is actually insane," Valko threw one hand up. "You're telling me I'm not allowed to call my girlfriend?"
"Not when I'm with her"
"I'm trying," Valko said, clipped and precise, "to take care of her. Which I realize is a foreign concept to a man whose primary contribution to this relationship is showing up on weekends and looking pretty—"
"I look..." Caleb stopped. A vein in his temple was doing something concerning. "That is not the point—"
"Oh my god, that is enough."
They turned at exactly the same time, the argument dying mid breath, and found you standing in the bedroom doorway. You had your arms crossed, a silk blindfold hanging from each hand, and the expression on your face was one you reserved for occasions when you had reached the outer limit of what you were willing to tolerate.
You looked at Caleb. Then at Valko. Then at the ridiculous amount of physical space they had managed to eliminate between two fully grown men who had, three days ago, been in your bed at the same time without anyone losing a limb.
"I have watched you two argue all day" you said. "You have both been in this relationship for months. You have both—" you paused, choosing words, "demonstrated, repeatedly, that you are capable of being in the same room as each other."
Neither of them said anything. Caleb had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Valko looked like he wanted to say something and was physically restraining himself.
You held up the blindfolds.
"I'm done mediating. You want to act like you don't know how to share?" Your eyes moved between them, steady and completely unmoved by the combined effect of the two of them standing there looking like scolded golden retrievers. "Then I'll make it simple for everyone."
-------------------------------------------------
The bedroom was very quiet by the time you got them both in there.
They ran out of things to argue about. It was hard to continue a territorial dispute when they couldn't see where they were in the room. They stood where you'd put them, stripped bare, blindfolded, shoulders still carrying the tension from the living room but with nowhere to direct it anymore. Both of them had their hands at their sides, not touching anything, assuming they were far away from each other.
They were not.
They were close enough that if either one of them exhaled too hard they'd feel it. You'd done that on purpose.
You sank to your knees between them and looked up at their faces —both of them tight jawed, heads slightly tilted, trying to orient themselves by sound alone— and took a moment to appreciate the fact that two of the most difficult men you'd ever met were currently standing blindfolded and completely at your mercy because of a disagreement about coffee.
You poured the lube and wrapped your hand around Caleb's cock first.
His head went back immediately, a rough groan pulling out of him, hands gripping his own hips to stop himself from reaching for you. "God, your hand—can do it a bit faster?"
"Don't rush her," Valko's voice came out tighter than he intended. He was trying to figure out from the sound of Caleb's voice exactly how far away he was standing.
You moved your hand to Valko and his whole body shuddered, a sharp exhale escaping through his nose. "Fuck, I've been waiting all day."
"You're both getting it," you said, keeping your voice smooth and even.
You picked up the sleeve from the floor beside you.
Dual entry, no center barrier, ribbed on both ends. They knew you loved toys and they loved using them on you. Neither of them had any reason to suspect what this one was about to do.
You lined it up, shifted your weight onto your heels, and pushed it down over both of them at the same time.
The sound they made was almost identical, two sharp, breathless gasps in perfect sync, the ribbed interior gripping them both tightly. For a second they both just stood there processing the sensation.
Then you pushed them closer, the rest of the way in.
The tips of their cocks met somewhere in the barrierless middle.
"What—" Caleb's whole body recoiled, knees buckling, one hand shooting out sideways for something to grab onto and finding nothing. "What the—what is that—"
Valko made a sound that was not a word in any language. He'd gone completely rigid, every muscle locked up, his chin dropped to his chest.
"Is that—" Caleb's voice came out strange and strained, working through the information his body was sending him with visible effort. "Is that another—is someone else—are you—" He stopped. "What the fuck?"
"That's 'ko," you said pleasantly.
"What the hell—" Valko's hips snapped back on reflex, a choked sound tearing out of him that he was going to pretend hadn't happened. "Sweetheart, what did you just—"
"Relax," you said, both hands clamping down over the center of the sleeve, fingers squeezing the material to keep them where they were. "You didn't want to share so now you're sharing this."
Caleb's breathing had gone completely to pieces. His chest was heaving, jaw working around words that weren't coming out in the right order. "You actually—" A sharp breath. "You seriously—"
You gave the sleeve one slow twisting squeeze and he lost the sentence entirely.
"Look at you both," you teased, from your knees again, looking up at two flushed faces with tremendous satisfaction. "So territorial. So impossible. And completely hard inside the same toy."
"I am hard for you," Valko snapped, the words coming out slightly less convincing than usual given the circumstances. A dark flush had crawled all the way up his neck and into his ears. He tried to step back, thighs shaking. "Take it off. Right now. I am not doing this, I don't—"
"You're not going anywhere."
You delivered the first stroke before he finished the sentence and the sound that came out of both of them at the same time was something you were going to think about for a very long time.
The friction was immediate and overwhelming—the ribbed interior stimulating the entire length of their cocks while they were pressed tip to tip. Neither of them pulled away.
What happened instead was considerably more predictable given who they were.
Valko's jaw set. You felt him shift his weight, recalibrate, and then drive his hips forward hard—a full thrust into the sleeve that was transparently designed to shove Caleb back through force of will. "Move," he said, through his teeth.
"No," Caleb answered and met him head on.😝
The impact of them hitting tip to tip inside the slick toy punched a moan out of both of them, loud enough that you were briefly grateful for the thickness of the bedroom walls.
You started pumping the sleeve to match their rhythm and leaned in. "There you go," you kept your voice low, right in the space between them. "All that energy you've been wasting arguing about coffee." Another stroke, firm and deliberate. "Look how much better this is."
"Don't act smug about this."
"I'm not acting smug," you said, completely smugly, picking up the pace. "I'm just saying. You've both been impossible for three months and it took me five minutes to solve it."
"This isn't solved—" Caleb's voice broke on the last word as you twisted your wrist on the next steoke. He swore, hips stuttering forward. "This is—this is not what I'd call solved—"
"Less talking," you said."More cooperating."
"I am not cooperating with him," Valko thrusted forward again.
Caleb met him again without hesitation.
"Come on, 'ko," you watched his face carefully. "He's pushing you back. Are you really going to let him?"
"Pips—"
"Absolutely not," Valko said through his teeth and reached out blindly until his hands found Caleb's shoulders and dug in. He used the grip to anchor himself, rolling his hips forward in slow circles that ground them together until his voice betrayed him, dropping from furious to undone in the space of a single breath. "I'll—" a shaking exhale, "I'll outlast him. Just like I've done it for months."
"You are shaking," Caleb pointed out, panting, sweat running down his temples and soaking into the edge of his blindfold. His hand had found its way into Valko's hair, gripping tight, the only thing keeping him upright as your hands worked faster. "You're already—you're twitching, I can feel it—you're so close you can't even—"
"Don't," Valko warned.
"You're falling apart and I've barely—haah—" Caleb's smugness dissolved as you squeezed the center of the sleeve. "God—"
"Shut up," Valko's command would have landed better if it hadn't come out an octave higher than his normal voice, cracked clean down the middle by another roll of his hips.
You slid your free hand up the flat of Caleb's stomach, felt every muscle pulled tight, holding back. "Tell me how it feels," you ordered.
"It's—" Caleb's was losing rhythm, the competitive edge bleeding into something desperate. "It's too much. The heat—I can feel him—Pips, please, I'm going to—"
You stopped the stroke immediately, keeping them locked against each other with nowhere to go.
Caleb made a sound that was mostly just suffering.
"Not yet," you said, turning your head slightly. " 'ko. Tell him."
"Tell him what?" Valko gritted out.
"How close you are."
A long silence broken only by both of them breathing like they'd been running.
"Damn it," Valko said finally, the grip on Caleb's shoulders turning white knuckled. "He's—" another shaking breath, "he's too much. Too hot. Everything he does just—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "Stop moving, Caleb. I'm serious. Stop—"
"I can't," Caleb moaned, his whole body moved forward, one final thrust that buried him as far into the sleeve as he could go.
Valko's forehead dropped forward, finding Caleb's shoulder, Caleb's hand was still in his hair. Their chests were heaving in the same broken rhythm, breath mingling in the small space.
"There," you said quietly. "Was that so hard?
Slowly, like he was doing it without deciding to, his body moving before his brain caught up, Valko's forehead dragged up from Caleb's shoulder, sliding along the curve of his neck, up his jaw, until it came to rest against Caleb's forehead.
Caleb went completely still. You didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched.
Valko's hands, still gripping Caleb's shoulders, slowly loosened. Spread flat. Like he was steadying himself against something he hadn't been prepared for. His breath came out ragged and uneven against Caleb's lips.
Caleb's fingers in his hair tightened again and he tilted his head up slightly.
Valko tilted his down.
Their mouths met somewhere in the middle and neither of them made it a question.
It wasn't soft. It was two people who'd been circling each other for months finally landing, all that accumulated tension finding somewhere to go at once—Caleb's hand pulling Valko in by the hair, Valko's hands sliding from Caleb's shoulders to the back of his neck, both of them breathing hard through their noses because neither one was willing to break it long enough to properly inhale.
You started moving the sleeve again. Slow at first. Then faster.
Valko broke the kiss on a sharp desperate sound that Caleb swallowed immediately, pulling him back in, and then both of them stopped pretending there was anything controlled left about any of this. Their hips moved together instead of against each other for the first time, same rhythm, same direction, working into the sleeve in sync while the sounds they were making dissolved from words into something much more honest.
"Together," you said quietly, from below "Both of you."
They came at exactly the same moment, Valko first by a heartbeat, Caleb right behind him, both of them shaking, gripping each other and breathing into each other's mouths while it rolled through them in long waves. Valko made a sound low in his chest that you'd never heard from him before. Caleb's knees buckled and Valko caught him without thinking, arms wrapping around him on reflex, and they stood there holding each other up.
You looked up at both of them, blindfolds askew, foreheads together.
"So," you laughed "Same time next week?"
Caleb laughed first. Just one short exhausted sound, but it was real.
Valko pressed his lips to Caleb's temple, which surprised everyone in the room including him, and said nothing.
You stood up, brushed off your knees, and went to make yourself a cup of coffee. Nobody had taken the last of it this time.
