⏾⋆.˚ You couldn't find him anywhere. [Mild 18+ / Angst / Hurt/Comfort]
“Valko?” Your voice only seemed to echo back at you, taunting in tone as your feet pounded against the cool metal flooring of one of many of EonCore’s laboratories.
The one your wolf had specifically spent most of his time in.
Yet, with every bellow of his name, no response followed. Valko, who had told you to meet him here. Who had said it was urgent.
Who had oddly ended his messages with an abrupt “I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Was now silent in all senses. No call, no text, no verbal responses. Nothing.
Dread inches its way through your veins, cruel and unforgiving as you shoulder open the last door in this hallway. A spare office, one he specifically told you he used as a decoy for a higher profile experiment.
If he wasn’t in here, quite honestly you’d be convinced he had been erased off the face of the earth at this point. “Val?” Peering into the room, your heart plummets to your feet. It’s been wrecked. Desks turned over, files destroyed, carefully conducted months upon months of research completely ransacked.
“Oh my god…” Instinctively, your fingers find the cool metal of your gun. Wrapping around it so hard your knuckles whiten.
“Valko? C’mon say something.” It seems your legs move before your mind can truly process anything, stepping deeper into the carnage and nearly slipping.
Something wet glides beneath your foot. Something thicker than water; metallic in a way that it assaults your nostrils.
Glancing down, you’re met with your own reflection in a crimson pool of blood. A scream so shrill threatens to tear from your throat and yet not a single ounce of breath escapes your lungs.
Within that puddle is your lover, cold. How long he has been gone you’re unsure. But there is something oddly beautiful about his peaceful expression.
Metal clattering against metal is deafening and yet you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. You hit the ground hard, knees splashing sickeningly into the pool of Valko’s cooling blood. Your hands tremble so hard you can barely angle them right to hold his graying cheeks. “No…no no no no no…”
“You can’t do this to me… you can’t leave me… you promised…”
Hot tears blur your vision, a garbled mess of no tumbling from your lips. Agony rattles in your chest, a feeling so painful you can’t stop yourself from doubling over. Forehead pressing into the cold, unmoving mass of Valko’s chest.
“Hey! C’mon, little wolf. It’s just a bad dream, wake up.”
Your eyes snap open as a strangled sob rips from your throat, tears burning and throat tight as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Woah, it’s okay!” Valko, your strong, warm, breathing Valko lays in front of you. Amber eyes glowing even in the darkness of your bedroom, filled with pure concern.
“It was just a nightmare, it’s okay.” he hadn’t the slightest clue as to what you dreamt of to terrify you in such a way. All he knew is you were shaking, sobbing in your sleep and whimpering out his name loud enough that it woke up.
So, by default, it must have been something utterly horrid. He’s never seen you this shaken before, not even in the depths of battle.
“V-valko…?” it hiccuped out of you, hands physically shaking as you cupped his warm cheeks. Skin that was warm, alive, blood rushing just beneath. Still circulating. Felt his pulse thrumming under your fingertips, felt his breath ghosting your tear stained face.
“I’m here, little wolf. M’right here.”
He’s dragging you in, not asking questions, just cradling you to his chest. The chest that had felt so surreal, so cold and still. It sends a renewed wave of tears brimming over your eyes. “Y-you died.” You managed to cry into his chest.
The words were so jagged and bitter that Valko swore he could taste the poison on his own tongue. “I-in my dream, you were dead. It f-felt so r-real, V-val…!”
You were grieving him, and he was right here. Alive, warm, holding you. Yet you were hysterical. Laying before him, a shaken shell of a woman as you sobbed into his chest over something that never actually happened.
But something that clearly felt so real that it had rattled you to your very core.
It felt as if someone had cracked open his ribcage and wrapped their fist around his heart, as if his own evol were squeezing it in a vice grip. Ready to pop it for all that it was worth. “Hey, hey, look at me. Baby, I need you to look at me.”
Baby.
The very pet-name that the two of you always made fun of. Noses scrunching and immediately side eyeing the other when you heard a couple use it in public.
Yet, it was always the first thing to slip past your lips when the other was upset, or hurt, or maybe both. “Baby, take a deep breath, please.” Now, he was begging.
“It wasn’t real, I’m alive. See? You feel this?”
He shifts, pushing back just enough to grab one of your trembling hands and place it firmly against his bare chest. Right above the steadfast pounding of his very much alive and working heart. “See? It’s beating, it’s pushing my blood through my body as we speak. I’m alive, right here next to you, little wolf.”
You feel it, strong and real, and slowly you can find the will to even your breathing.
“Good girl, deep breaths.” It’s meant to be encouraging, yet it makes you feel just a little light headed. “Don’t say things like that.” You mumble, using your free hand to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks.
“I can’t praise you?” A genuine sound of surprise, as if he can’t fathom why he shouldn't be proud of you for overcoming a very obvious panic attack.
“S’not what I was talking about.” Nasally, your nose is annoyingly stuffed from all the tears. “Then wha…oh.” Mildly startled at the realization, but it doesn't stop the toothy grin that suddenly tugs the corners of his lips.
“You were just sobbing, now you’re getting flustered?” The hand he still had held to his chest now wiggled free from his grasp, lifting slightly to haul off and playfully smack him. “Consider it a successful distraction.”
You shuffle closer to him, pressing your once wet face into his chest. Inhaling his scent, letting it fully relax the last of the tension still stored within your shoulders.
"You smell good, Val." It's fully muffled into his chest, vibrating his skin and earning a delicate chuckle. "You always ask me what you smell like, why don't you tell me what I smell like, hmm?" Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, arms and legs finding their natural home slotted in, on, or around the others'.
"You smell like a man." It's blunt, and you feel rather than hear his laughter. "You smell clean, like all the time. Expensive, too. Like incense and woods, fresh air with a hint of smoke. You also smell a bit like chocolate but I'm pretty sure that's because of your hidden stash." He tenses, how on earth did you find the stash?
"You also smell like my coconut lotion, the one I let you borrow when your regular one ran out but then you liked it so much that you just bought a bottle for yourself."
He smiles at that, one of the earlier memories in your relationship. Also one of his fondest. "Most of all." You yawn into his skin, nuzzling into his chest as if you could truly burrow your way inside of it. "You smell like home, Val."
In the quiet of your shared bedroom, with the nightmare pushed far behind you, Valko wondered if you could hear how hard his heart was hammering from that statement.
Banner is from @/cafekitsune
This was going to turn into smut but then I just got really soft over him after the new updates we've gotten... low key I'm getting sad all over again but I'm trying to hold out hope but... man... I miss Valko... I miss playing LaDs... infold what the fuck - Soul
desperately trying to save my favorite undergarments by sewing them and now i’m imagining valko doing it for me.
i think he would be so sweet and attentive to your favorite clothing and items, especially if they were delicate and frayed. i just know he knows how to hand sew a little, sneaking into your closet to fix every hole and tear. maybe he’d intentionally stitch in a little wolf in the corner; a reminder of his love every time you’d slip into them. gahh…..
Thinking about how none of the six lads men would let you suffer alone. You’re not feeling well? You’re not a fan of saying what you feel, or you struggle with asking for help?
It’s never been a huge deal for them.
Xavier's always been more observant than he lets on, especially when it comes to you. He sees the exhaustion on your face. The way your shoulders are tense. His brow furrows when you say you’re “fine” every time he asks. He doesn’t push it. Doesn’t say he’s here for you– you know that by now. He makes sure to show it.
Food gets ordered, the bed gets made, pillows get fluffed, and whatever you find joy in? A movie, a show, a content creator… it gets put on. Even if it’s a video game– he’ll play it for you, or watch you play it, or play with you. Whatever works, whatever you want.
The two of you sit side by side. He doesn’t start a conversation, doesn’t start trying to prompt you. Instead, Xavier watches how you relax. How you look lighter, and how naturally, you lean against his shoulder.
And when the sun sets, the sky becomes dark, and whatever is weighing on you is forgotten? He’s happy. If instead it pulls you down and you start to cry? He’s got you. He holds you, as gently as he can, and asks if you want to talk. If not? That's okay. He can wait. And when you finally do talk… His words back are nothing but soft and sweet.
“...Starlight, you mean the world to me, you know that, right? Hearing your feelings… Will never be a burden to me. Ever.”
Zayne has always been blunt, but that doesn’t mean he’s careless. He’s blunt when it’s required; medical results, taking care of health, or about addressing that he knows you’ve been teasing him for the past five minutes just for a reaction.
But emotions require nuance. Because he knows you’ve been feeling off– he can see it in the way your visits seem to dwindle in time, and his notifications receive less and less texts. At first, he might think you’re mad at him, but you laugh on a phone call, and bring him a box of his favorite treats. That’s how he knows you’re not mad at him– you’re mad at yourself.
Zayne puts in more effort, where you drop it. Decided to skip breakfast because you were too tired? He brought you a brown bag, anyways, and he’ll even drive you to work. You come for lunch at his office, and he makes you try some of the ‘new juice’ they had at the cafeteria in the hospital just so you drink something that isn’t just straight caffeine. Texts get sent after he finishes every task, just to check in with you. When you respond with ‘im good, just busy’, he isn’t swayed.
Its when he finally comes home and starts making dinner– the one he knows you love– when you ask what's up with him. When he confesses he saw you feeling down. He sees the stages of guilt, of pain, the memory of whatever was dragging you down flicker through your eyes as the tears well up; for a second, he wonders if he went about this all wrong. And then your tears start to spill, and you tell him he didn’t have to worry, and you try to come up with an excuse before he pulls you in to his chest– one hand keeping the dinner from burning, as the other rubs your back.
“It’s okay. I’m… I know I tell you I always want you to be okay. That is just for your physical health. If mentally, you feel bad, I don’t need you to hide that from me. Even if you don’t wish to confide in your doctor for fear of judgement… Please know that as your partner, I will never judge you for feeling like this, and that I’ll do whatever I can to help you feel better.”
Rafayel always talks about how he feels. He complains about Thomas. About the stupid gallery he doesn’t want to go to, about how he’s felt a little burnt out, recently. However, you never complain back about what upsets you. Small things, yes. A papercut that stings, a person who’s been driving you up the wall…
But something else has been bugging you, and he isn’t sure how to approach it. Rafayel doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want to just ignore your feelings, either. And he’s worried that the longer he waits to say something, you’ll think he doesn’t see you, or doesn’t care, and you’ll find him unreliable.
So, he does what he’s always known to make you smile. Takes you out. Nowhere fancy at all, actually. He and you run down the beach. He’ll pick you up, spin you around, draw inappropriate things in the sand, do whatever he can to see you smile. Even if he only cheers you up for a second, sometimes coming up for air is all it takes to open up.
It’s when you’re coming down from the laughter, where you look guilty again. He decides to maybe start– he complains about something minor, before asking if you have anything thats happened recently. Rafayel doesn’t think much of it, until he sees you shake your head no, clamming up again. Deciding enough is enough, he says that you can tell him, and it's more than fair for him to listen. When you hit him with how you think your issues don't matter because his issues seem so much bigger? Rafayel cuts you off.
“Ah, but– shh- listen to me, cutie. It’s not a competition, you know. Even if I was bleeding to death right now, I’d still want to hear you tell me about what’s been bugging you. Especially if you think it's trivial. In fact, I’ve been dying to know all day. So, if you’d please enlighten me…”
Sylus knows. Whatever it is you’re upset about– he’s not a fool. He sees how your face sours when it's brought up, when your words turn bitter while speaking about yourself.
At most, he’ll respond with a tsk. Tell you not to speak about yourself like that. He tries to pry, once. Ask if you’d want to talk. When you say that you’re okay, and that your negative words mean nothing– he doesn’t buy it. But, he’s never been one to push.
So, he waits. Sylus waits through conversations where you call yourself stupid. Sylus waits when Mephisto’s camera feed shows you crying in your bedroom, alone, and then saying nothing about it to him. And he waits when he takes you out and you look around with glossy eyes like you’re not supposed to be there. Like being by his side will get you in trouble.
He doesn’t mention it. A hand stays on your waist. Calls you pretty a half dozen times, his tone carrying the same sincerity the eighth time as it did the first. Its somewhere between ordering dessert and your glasses getting refilled you break– say you don't deserve this with tears spilling down your cheeks.
An arm slips under you without hesitation. A coat that isn’t your side falls around your shoulders, and the dessert is boxed and taken with you. The fresh air feels nice, but it doesn’t help when you feel like shit. You cry more. He lets you. Says you do deserve all of this– and when you continue to reject it, all your issues spilling out at once, he listens, holds you in his grip.
“I know. Sweetheart, I know. But I promise you-- it will be okay. I know some issues are bigger than money, but you'll always have me to rely on. And, if you don't see the value in yourself, I'll have to show it to you."
Caleb's the exact same. Honestly, you could hold a gun to his head before he’d confess that he’s feeling bad. He never wants to ruin your mood.
Little does he know that it is. He’s been home for the past few days now– and he can tell you’re keeping something from him. Teasing words don’t work, and even directly asking results in nothing. He knows you’re not mad at him, because you usually give him even more of a silent treatment, but he can’t for the life of him figure out what's wrong.
The worst part is, you keep parroting him. Asking how he’s doing, if he’s okay. He keeps saying he’s fine– because he means it. Even if he’s had rough days in Skyhaven, he’s always happy by your side.
The breaking point is when he finds you crying. When you quickly dry your eyes and say you’re fine, he doesn’t accept it. Caleb practically pleads with you to tell him what's wrong– and you do. When he asks why you didn’t tell him, and you say it's because he never complains and you don’t want to seem like the weak one, he’s kicking himself.
“Pipsqueak… Listen to me. I'd never think you're weak. Never. You're so strong. And truthfully… I have nothing to complain about when you’re by my side. But… If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll let you know when things are bugging me too, ‘kay? But you have to promise to do the same.”
Valko isn’t aware, at first. Not because he isn’t paying attention– he is. All his senses are laser focused on you, always. It’s just… That your relationship is new. As far as he knows, you’re always happy around him. Sometimes you ramble on about things that have been bugging you, but you’ve never come to tears.
And truthfully, he’s been nothing but honest about himself. How he feels, what he wants… He’s always been rather forward with his words. No one gives you what you want if you don’t say it. It's foolish of him, but he assumes you'd be the same with your feelings.
Normally there’s time in the day where he’s busy, or not around. For work, his family, and so on… But today, he’s decided to focus on you. Holding you in his arms, snuggling… A good break, if he says so himself.
That is, until the smell of something salty hits him. Followed by laboured breathing, and a mumbled apology as he pulls back to ask what's wrong. His tail does a sad flick, his ears droop, when he sees you start to cry. Before you can even answer– his grip tightens and he keeps you firmly held against his chest.
“Shh… shh… it's okay, lil pup… I got you. Just let it out. If it’ll help, you can rub my ears, pet my tail, or talk about it, if you want? It’s always been better to talk about it than it is to keep it bottled up…”
Also requests are open for fluff !! I still have a few half baked right now but I wanted to write comfort :3
Thought this was going to be a cute fic for Valko so here it is~!
The first time it happens, you don’t even realize what Valko is doing.
You’re lying face-down on the bed, exhausted for no reason, dramatically complaining into a pillow about how existence is terrible and your back hurts and you might actually die.
Valko walks in carrying a grocery bag.
“You forgot these again,” he says.
You lift your head. “Forgot what?”
He sets the bag beside you.
Inside are your favorite snacks, painkillers, fuzzy socks, chocolate, and your preferred products.
You stare at him.
Slowly.
“…What.”
Valko pauses like he’s confused why you’re confused. “You’ll need them tomorrow.”
And unfortunately?
He’s right.
After that, you start noticing the pattern.
Every single month, right before your cycle starts, Valko somehow becomes even softer with you.
He’ll pull you closer while you’re half asleep, pressing a kiss into your hair while murmuring, “You’re colder than usual.”
Or he’ll quietly appear beside you with tea before you even realize you wanted any.
One night you’re curled up on the couch with cramps, trying very hard to pretend you’re fine.
Valko sits beside you silently for a moment before lifting your legs into his lap.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re in pain.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He ignores you completely, resting one warm hand over your stomach.
The warmth sinks through you almost instantly.
Your entire body relaxes.
“…Oh.”
“I know,” he says softly.
You narrow your eyes. “Are you secretly magical or something?”
“No.”
“Because this feels illegal.”
That earns the tiniest smile from him.
And honestly? That smile alone almost cures you.
Almost.
The sweetest thing is that Valko never acts annoyed about any of it.
Not when you’re emotional.
Not when you randomly start crying over a sad animal video.
Not even when you send him to the store at 11 PM because you suddenly need a very specific candy.
He just comes back with three bags of it and gently pushes your feet aside so he can sit down.
“You bought extra?”
“You looked serious.”
“I was serious.”
“I could tell.”
And then there are the nights where the cramps get really bad.
Those are the nights Valko barely lets you move.
You’ll try to get up for water and suddenly there’s a hand around your wrist.
“Stay.”
“I can walk, you know.”
“You can barely stand.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“You almost walked into the wall.”
“…The wall moved.”
At that, Valko actually laughs quietly under his breath.
Then he pulls you back against his chest, wraps a blanket around both of you, and starts absentmindedly rubbing circles against your stomach while you melt into him.
“You’re ridiculously nice to me during this,” you mumble sleepily.
“You say that like it’s temporary.”
Your heart does the stupid fluttery thing immediately.
“You know,” you say, tilting your head up toward him, “most people would be weird about periods.”
Valko looks genuinely unimpressed.
“It’s a normal bodily function.”
“Okay, but you say that like a disappointed doctor.”
“Because humans act strange about things that are normal.”
You grin a little. “So you don’t mind taking care of me?”
Valko looks down at you for a long moment, expression softening in that quiet way that always makes your chest ache.
Then he brushes hair away from your face and kisses your forehead.
﹙♡﹚hi! more valkie-val content for you, my sweet angels. ♡ i think i write best when i'm emotional, and i truly needed something heartwarming. hope you all like it, and thanks for the support! (๛ ˘ ³˘ )♡
“valkie, where are you going?” you whispered, your hands clutching his bicep in an attempt to make him stay.
he turned to you, his head cocking to the left.
his warm palm came up to cup your cheek, and you immediately nuzzled it, leaning against his touch.
“it's late, bunny. i have to go,” he explained, his smile easy, but his golden eyes betraying hesitation.
you frowned slightly, looking down at the floor, only to lift your eyes seconds later and meet his again.
“yeah, but… you just came,” you insisted, your voice turning frail, almost desperate. “stay? a little while, please.”
his thumb caressed the soft curve of your cheekbone.
he couldn't stay; he knew it.
but he couldn't leave you alone, either, not when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes, clinging to him as if you needed his existence to keep breathing.
“honeybun, i wish i could, but…” he trailed off, his resolve growing weaker.
“please…” you mumbled, your arms now coiling around his torso. you nuzzled his strong chest, trying to commit his scent and warmth to memory.
if he was going to leave so soon, you wanted to take as much of him with you as you could.
he leaned down, his chin now resting atop your head.
his hands hesitated before resting on your lower back, pulling you closer to him, making your bodies almost melt together.
you whined softly and shut your eyes so tightly that you couldn't perceive the light or shadows anymore.
you didn't want to think of anything else that wasn't this moment.
you wanted to recognize him by his scent; his manly, musky perfume, so that when you were lost, you could find your way back to him with all of your senses.
you didn't notice you were trembling until he lifted your head, his expression soft but concerned.
he leaned closer, his warm lips catching a tear as it rolled down your cheek. valko lingered, the tip of his nose warm against your skin, his mouth pressed gently to your tear-streaked face.
how could anyone try to keep him away from you?
“valkie,” you sniffled, your hands travelling up his chest until they rested on his shoulders. “will you come back…?”
he sighed.
his lips left your skin as he pulled back, but he remained close, pressing your foreheads together.
“i won't need to come back,” he mumbled, his arms wrapping around your waist in a way that left little to no room for you to move. “because i won't leave, little bunny.”
your breath hitched.
you searched his gaze for any hint of deceit, or perhaps pity; a pity that would make him tell sweet lies as long as you stopped crying.
but those golden pools held nothing but resolve and tenderness; a mate promising his beloved he wouldn't dare leave as long as he lived.
he couldn't do it, he wouldn't survive if he left. his heart wouldn't make it if he didn't have yours beating close to it.
“you— really? you promise?” you whispered, your fingers gently caressing the smooth undershave at his nape, perhaps to ground yourself, perhaps to comfort him as well.
he kneeled right there in front of you, his chin tilting up so he could meet your gaze.
he took your hands in his and kissed each and every one of your knuckles. he then turned your hands over and nuzzled your warm palms, closing his eyes in pure bliss.
“i promise,” he assured, looking up through his thick eyelashes.
you cupped his cheeks and caressed his warm skin with the tips of your fingers, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears.
you traced the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows, his jawline, trying to memorize their shape, their texture, their softness and sharpness all at once.
it was almost as if you were scared of him disappearing.
scared of him going, scared of him leaving, and scared your mind wouldn't be able to recall anything you could hold on to.
he followed your hands with his eyes until he captured your fingers, pressing soft, wet kisses to them.
then, he stood up, towering over you in a way that never once felt threatening.
he picked you up in his arms with painful gentleness, treating you like the most delicate and fragile treasure, and held you against his chest, his body curling inward just to keep you surrounded by him.
his limbs, his scent, his breathing, and his clothes all brushed against your skin.
your fingers clung to him for dear life.
his long legs carried both of you to your bedroom, where he finally placed you down.
but you refused to let him go.
you stubbornly kept your limbs wrapped around his body, so he had no choice but to lie on top of you as carefully as he could, then gently roll the two of you over so that you'd be resting on his chest.
he lowered his hands until they reached the small of your back, and he pressed a lingering, soft kiss to your forehead the moment your pretty eyes looked up at him.
“i'm here, my bunny,” he whispered, his low voice rumbling in his chest. “i'm not going anywhere.”
no, he wasn't.
you wouldn't let him.
you shook your head softly and nuzzled his neck, sniffing his scent the way he taught you to; soft little sniffs to recognize where his scent was the strongest, then three long, slow inhales to take it in and commit it to memory.
the mix of pine, sandalwood, and the natural scent of his skin made you feel drowsy; the fear of him leaving replaced by his grounding promise.
you kissed the warm spot that brought you comfort, and let your consciousness drift away.
valko remained quiet, but he watched attentively as your eyelashes stopped fluttering, and your chest rose and fell calmly against his.
he nuzzled the top of your head and pulled a blanket over the two of you, almost as if to keep you both beneath a protective barrier the rest of the world couldn't break.
he knew not to make promises he could break, but… you were fighting so hard to cling to him, to remember him.
and if your heart, body, and soul were already memorizing every inch of his skin, he wouldn't truly be gone from your world.
ever.
he closed his eyes and buried his face deeper in your hair.
maybe fate would ask impossible things of him one day, maybe the world would try to pull him away.
but, if it ever did, he would spend every lifetime finding his way back to the little bunny who knew his scent by heart.~
Everything that could go wrong did, and by the time you drag yourself through the door you’re exhausted, drained, and on the verge of tears. You don’t even get to kick your shoes off before two strong arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you back against a warm, solid chest.
Valko doesn’t say anything at first. He just holds you, chin resting on top of your head, tail curling gently around your leg like he’s trying to wrap you up completely.
“Bad day?” he finally murmurs, voice soft.
You nod, leaning into him. He doesn’t need more than that.
Without another word he scoops you up like you weigh nothing (which to him, you don’t) and carries you straight to the couch. He settles down with you curled in his lap, your face tucked into his neck while one big hand rubs slow, soothing circles on your back. His other hand gently scratches the back of your head if you’re feeling extra sensitive, or just strokes through your hair.
“You did so good today,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m really proud of you, sweetheart.”
His tail thumps steadily against the cushion, slow and comforting. He keeps you wrapped up in him, warm and safe, occasionally nuzzling the top of your head or giving you little squeezes like he can physically push the sadness out of you.
When you finally relax against him with a tired sigh, he smiles and tucks you closer.
“I’ve got you,” he says simply. “You can rest now. I’m right here.”
You fall asleep like that wrapped up in your giant boyfriend, his steady heartbeat under your ear and his tail curled protectively around you. The worst day doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
Valko stays there as long as you need, content to be your personal heater, weighted blanket, and safe place all in one.
The bedroom was painfully quiet. Not because there wasn't any sound. There was, The soft zip of a duffel bag. The rustle of neatly folded clothes. The faint clink of metal as chargers, keys, and other necessities disappeared one by one into carefully packed luggages. But because the silence between the two of you was deafening.
You sat quietly on the edge of the bed, your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your eyes never left Valko. His back faced you as he moved around the room. His bright red hair caught the afternoon light pouring through the curtains, glowing almost warmly despite how cold everything felt. Every now and then, he'd hum under his breath, a habit of his whenever he was concentrating. It was the same absentminded tune he'd hum while cooking, while working, while clinging to you from behind because he decided personal space was a nonexistent. And normally, it would've made you smile.
But today only made your chest ache as you watched him fold another shirt, then another. Every item he packed felt like another reminder that he was leaving.
Your vision blurred and you blinked rapidly. No. Don't cry. Not yet. He still hadn't turned around. So you bit your lip so hard it almost hurt. A tear slipped down anyway. Then another. You hurriedly wiped them away with the sleeve of your sweater before more could follow, lowering your head so he wouldn't notice.
He kept packing. Completely unaware. "...Love?" His voice was gentle. "So sorry, could you hand me the things on the counter?" You inhaled sharply. "Okay." Your voice came out embarrassingly small. You stood up anyway, quickly dragging the heels of your palms beneath your eyes before walking toward the counter. His watch. Wallet. His glasses. You gathered everything carefully. Another shaky breath. Don't cry. Please don't cry.
You walked back over, stopping just behind him. He still hadn't turned around. "...Here." You held the items out. He reached back without looking then his fingers brushed yours. And instead of taking the things. His hand wrapped around your wrist. Your breath caught and before you could react, he tugged. A soft yelp escaped you as your body stumbled forward. Straight into him. The items nearly slipped from your hands. His arms were already around you, strong, warm, secure.
He buried his face against your shoulder, holding you so tightly it almost hurt. "...I know." Two words. That was all it took and something inside you shattered. A broken sob ripped from your throat before you could stop it. Your hands flew to the front of his shirt, fists clutching the fabric desperately as tears poured freely down your cheeks.
"No." Another sob. "No..." You hit his chest, not hard but just enough to vent the overwhelming ache threatening to suffocate you. "I don't want you to go!" Another punch. "I don't want you to leave!" Your fists kept landing weakly against him. Again, and again and again. "I hate this!" Thump. "You're leaving me!" Thump. "I don't want you to go..." Your voice cracked so badly the words dissolved into sobs. "You promised to stay forever!" You buried your face against him, clutching his shirt so tightly your knuckles turned white. "Please..." Another broken sob. "Please don't go..."
Valko didn't move away. Didn't stop you. Didn't let go. He simply held you tighter. One hand slid up to cradle the back of your head while the other rubbed slow circles against your trembling back. "I'm sorry..." His own voice sounded quieter now. "I'm so, so sorry." He pressed his forehead against your hair. "I know." A kiss landed gently on top of your head. "I know, sweetheart." Another trembling apology. "I'm sorry."
Your fists had weakened into desperate grips, fingers twisting helplessly into the front of his shirt. "You don't have to go..." You could barely get the words out between sobs. "You don't..." His embrace tightened. "If I could stay..." He swallowed. "I would." You shook your head violently. Then his voice cracked just enough for you to hear it. "But I can't." You cried harder. He whispered it against your hair. "I love you." Another kiss. "I love you so much." Your fingers only clenched tighter. "I'm sorry."
His hand continued stroking your back, slow and comforting despite the way your body shook uncontrollably against him. "I'm sorry I have to leave." Another broken sob escaped you. "I don't want to let go..." "You don't have to." He answered immediately. "So don't." His chin rested gently atop your head. "We'll stay like this for a little longer." He closed his eyes, holding you as though committing the feeling to memory. "I've got you." Another soft kiss. "I'm sorry."
And all you could do was cry into the arms of the man you loved, wishing that if you held him tightly enough. Maybe the world would stop asking him to leave.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2026°
: i made this and uploaded this before caleb fiance 3 (its almost done but i couldn't stop crying and crashing out so i couldn't just focus on it and need to lock in aka. Vent out my feelings) I AM SO FUCKIBG SAD AHHHHH
pre-relationship, post explosion. fluff & hurt/comfort. gn, mc reader
wc: 680
You sit up in bed, frustrated and disheveled from tossing and turning. It's been over an hour, and you still feel just as awake as you did when you first laid down. You don't even want to know what ungodly time of the morning it is.
Despite your sheets smelling of Caleb, bringing back a feeling of comfort you had been chasing for over a year now, nothing seemed to work. Falling asleep in a new place never gets easier, even though Caleb was kind enough to lend you the only lived-in bedroom in his apartment.
Caleb… Surely the exclusive privileges he granted you as children were still valid? And if so, he wouldn't mind if you used them again now, right?
Slipping out from underneath the covers, you pad out of your bedroom on bare feet, shivering a little at the feeling of the tile floor against your soles. You quietly sneak down the hallway, stopping once you reach Caleb's room. You take a shaky breath, gathering your courage for a few seconds, before quietly knocking.
You don't get a response, but you're not surprised. You often wouldn't get one when you were a kid, either, unless he was up late studying. You turn the door handle; it's unlocked, and you close the door behind you before quietly making your way inside the dark room.
He's sprawled out beneath his comforter, chest steadily rising and falling in slumber. You hesitate again, but tell yourself you've already come far enough, and it'd be a waste to throw in the towel now. You swallow, before gently shaking Caleb's broad shoulder, your voice soft and timid.
"Caleb? Caleb, wake up,"
His eyes crack open as he looks up at you, still half asleep. He props himself up on his elbow as he looks up at you. His voice is gravelly and slurred with sleep, and he rubs his eye as he talks.
"Pips? Whatsup…?"
"I can't fall asleep," you admit sheepishly, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment and eyes darting away from his. You're a grown adult… maybe this was a bad idea. "M'really sorry for waking you up, I've just been trying for a long time, and-"
"No, no, s'okay," he mumbles, sitting up a bit more to tug back the covers for you. "Should've come sooner, pips. C'mere,"
You climb into bed beside him. Unsure of how to lie, you hover a bit nervously until Caleb pats the bed next to him.
"I said c'mere, pips. I've got you, yeah? Like when we were kids."
You comply, lying beside him, giving him a cautious amount of distance with your head on the opposite end of his pillow. He chuckles softly, his breath brushing your nose, and shakes his head.
"Silly. You know what I meant, pipsqueak. Here,"
He pulls you forwards with his Evol, coaxing you to bury your face in his chest as he wraps his arms around you and tangles his legs with your own.
"Better?" He asks, and when you nod, you feel the vibration of his voice beneath your cheek as he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction. Your body relaxes as you breathe him in, your eyes drooping shut as you let yourself start to drift. It just feels right, being close to him like this; two halves of a whole, finally reunited after so long.
"I really missed you," you confess, your voice wobbling the slightest bit as you feel stubborn tears start to well up in your eyes. He threads a hand into your hair, gently scratching at your scalp, the way you used to beg him to when you were children.
"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head, reverent. "I know. I'm not goin' anywhere, alright? Not ever again. I'm with you for good."
You nod, already feeling yourself start to drift off, enveloped in his large, solid body and surrounded by his familiar scent.
"Rest," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "I'll be right here when you wake up. Never leaving you alone again."
ꨄ︎ summary: You always assumed you were just the supportive Beta third wheel to Mei and Valko's inevitable Alpha power-couple romance. Turns out, you were wrong.
ꨄ︎ a/n: guys… i've fallen for the valko propaganda 😭 anyway, please note that his characterization in this fic is purely based on the 3 minute trailer that we got 🥹 also non mc x mc because wth, she's hot and the new fit is 🔥
ꨄ︎ lads masterlist ꨄ︎ AO3
Being a Beta definitely had its perks.
You didn't have to deal with heats, ruts, or the overwhelming biological urges that governed the lives of Alphas and Omegas. The only downside was that you were practically scent-blind to pheromones, which meant you had to rely strictly on visual cues to realize that your two best friends were hopelessly, undeniably in love with each other.
Yes, that was the only explanation that made sense.
You were currently sprawled on a plush, impossibly expensive velvet sofa in the middle of Valko’s penthouse.
As the sole heir to Eoncore Tech, Valko’s college living situation was less "dorm room" and more "billionaire's high-rise playground," complete with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and experimental tech prototypes scattered across every surface.
"Okay, but listen, if we overclock the core processors on the new VR rig…whoa!"
Valko, who had been pacing excitedly while rambling about the latest tech he was working on, suddenly tripped over a tangled mess of fiber-optic cables. His arms flailed wildly, his glasses flying off his face as he plummeted toward the glass coffee table.
Before you could even flinch, Mei was there.
The female Alpha moved with terrifying speed, catching Valko by the back of his designer hoodie then hauling his tall, broad frame upright with one hand like he was a stray kitten.
"Careful, idiot," Mei grumbled. She didn't let go of his hoodie right away, eyes locking onto his flushed face.
"Ah... right. Thanks, Mei," Valko chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like a massive, clumsy golden retriever who had just bumped into a glass door. He beamed at her, and the raw, unspoken Alpha energy between them felt so thick and intimate that you felt guilty just for watching.
You sighed fondly, picking up your textbook.
It was beautiful, really.
Two incredibly powerful Alphas, one a grounded, protective force of nature, and the other a brilliant, obscenely wealthy, loveable dork. They were a perfect match. You were just lucky they let their token Beta friend hang out in their penthouse to use the ultra-fast Wi-Fi.
Mei finally let go of Valko and walked over to you. She silently placed a plate of perfectly sliced fruit on the table in front of you, a soft, almost imperceptible gentleness softening her features when she looked your way.
"Thanks, Mei," you smiled.
Valko immediately scrambled over, nearly tripping again, to drop a brand-new, unreleased Eoncore smart tablet into your lap.
"I had the engineering team install that specific reading app you like! The screen adjusts to your retinas so you don't get headaches while studying!"
"Valko, this is worth more than my car," you said, staring at the sleek device.
"It's just a prototype! Consider it... beta testing," he said, winking proudly at his own pun.
You looked between the two of them. They had flanked you again, standing on either side of the sofa, looking down at you with undivided attention. Even without being able to smell their pheromones, the territorial, possessive aura in the room was suffocating.
They were practically vibrating.
They must be getting ready to court each other, you thought. They’re so tense. I’m totally ruining the mood.
You closed your textbook and carefully placed the ridiculously expensive tablet on the table.
"You know what, guys? I think I'm gonna head out. I have a lot of reading to do, and I really want to give you two the apartment to yourselves tonight."
Both Alphas froze.
Valko blinked, his brain clearly struggling to process the statement.
"Give us the apartment?" Mei repeated, eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"
"Well, you know," you gestured between them with an encouraging smile. "You two have been circling each other for months. The whole ‘Alpha power couple’ thing is great, and I fully support it, but you don't have to keep pretending to hang out with me just to spend time together. You should just establish your pack already!"
Silence fell over the penthouse.
Both Alphas stared at you then, they slowly turned to stare at each other.
"You think..." Valko started, his voice dropping slightly "You think Mei and I want to mate... with each other?"
"Well, yeah! You're always paying for our dinners, and Mei is always physically guarding us in public. You're constantly scenting the furniture around, which I can't smell, by the way, but I'm not blind. I know how Alpha courtships work!"
"We're scenting you," Mei stated bluntly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We scent everything you touch so no other Alphas come near you. I'm guarding you. Valko is buying things for you."
You paused, your brain short-circuiting.
"Me? But… but I'm a Beta."
"Yeah, a Beta that we are entirely obsessed with," Valko blurted out, his cheeks burning. He practically threw himself onto the sofa next to you, looking like a panicked billionaire puppy. "We don't want to mate with each other! I mean, Mei is great, but she terrifies me! We want you. We've thought of you as our mate since sophomore year!"
Your mouth fell open.
"Wait. Both of you? But..."
"Did you really think," Mei said softly, sitting on your other side and boxing you in perfectly between their warm, solid frames, "that the heir to Eoncore Tech and I spend every single day following you around just to get to each other?"
"I thought I was the supportive third wheel!" you defended, your face flushing hot.
"You're the entire vehicle," Valko groaned, dramatically resting his forehead on your shoulder. "Please tell me you don't actually want to leave. Because if you do, I'm going to have to panic-buy the building you live in just so I have an excuse to be your landlord, and the paperwork is a nightmare."
Mei reached out, gently but firmly taking your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Stay," she murmured, a quiet, possessive plea in her tone. "Study here with your pack."
ꨄ︎ a/n: i also don't remember if i ever wrote a purely fluff fic for other lis...
ꨄ︎ taglist: @seraphineash, @loreleis-world, @tinuvieloflemuria, @thehyperfixationgirly (if i missed someone who requested to be perma-tagged, please lmk and i'm sorry 😭)
likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! hope you guys enjoyed reading!
a/n: i an still thinking about buff sweet neighbor xavier… i love him so much… also me posting twice in one day sorry guys i have a lot to say i guess
thinking your friendly slightly dorky and shy neighbor is lowkey a loser and telling him it’s okay you don’t need help with the giant heavy package you’re struggling with. xavier pouts, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up to reveal extremely toned and veiny forearms. he doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen.
he lifts the box with ease, not even a grunt leaving his lips as he smiles at you, “just inside your apartment is good?” his soft voice snaps you out of your daze.
“um yeah if you can set it on the kitchen counter,” you stumble out, clearing your throat as your face burns. xavier notices the other boxes strewn about, and being the kind person he is, offers to help you finish unpacking and moving the heavier items into place.
he’s finally breaking a sweat near the end of it, reaching down and pulling his hoodie overhead, undershirt riding up and revealing chiseled abs. his prominent and well defined biceps are on full display, droplets of sweat slowly rolling down the corded muscles.
“are- do you want some water or something to eat?” you swallow harshly, forcing your eyes from his arms and shamefully meeting his gaze. his eyes are darker than before, a small smirk playing on his lips as he takes a couple steps closer to you, broad shoulders covering your entire frame as you step back, only to be met with the kitchen counter.
“I’d rather have something else,” he mumbles, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. it’s not lost on him the small whimper that leaves your lips.
yeah, you were going to fuck your neighbor.
masterlist
taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @pjselee @luvyizhou @colonelkaboom @xyzsbaobei @ellavelysworld @floatingpalelilies ; ask to be added :3
synopsis: something about sylus has been getting a rise out of you. maybe it's the thickness of his arms, or the slop of his nose-- perhaps even the timber of his voice. whatever it is, you're determined to hone those feelings down. that is until you realize perhaps sylus is equally as into you.
cw: nsfw, fem!reader, reader is called "miss hunter" once, boxing, typical sylus ragebaiting (flirting), use of a corset at one point, way too much sexual tension, andrew and nero mention, oral (f!receiving), fingering, nipple play, riding, piv, unprotected sex, insecure (?) reader, sylus maybe has a heel fetish... very vague tho
aexias talking: if you saw this posted a few days ago NO YOU DID NOT !!!! OKAY? my queue fucked up but we move. anyways this has been in the drafts WAYYYY before xiayuriz soo... she's old. anyways enjoy !! <3
You can't pinpoint exactly when it began. You started staring at him longer, yearning for his touch. The feeling gnaws at your insides, eyes glued onto his frame. In a way, you feeling like a giddy school crush having a crush on someone you shouldn't. Sylus's presence is magnetic in a manner that is suffocating. The need to chew at his fingers, sink your teeth into his biceps and forearms— Oh, that is your favourite feature on him.
His arms. Large and beefy, comfortable to rest on. You've felt them around your back, squeezing your head into his chest while protecting you.
Currently, you're seated on a bench in his indoor gym. You watch as Sylus's bandages knuckles bombard the punching bag, the sound echoing through the gym. His arms tremble with force, hair swaying with every punch. The melodic thuds, the sweat dripping down his back and nape.
You might be going crazy.
Maybe you've always felt this way about him. Attracted to him carnally. He's handsome, no doubt. His sharp features, large hands and arms. He's a head taller than you, not to mention his voice.
Sylus's shoes squeak, forcing you out of your thoughts. He reaches down for a white towel that rests on a stool near him. His red, bandaged hands are loosened as he reaches for the bottle. Sylus takes a quick glance in your direction, raising a brow when he catches you staring and flustered.
"Are you alright, Miss Hunter?" Concern evident in his voice before it forms into something akin to amusement. As if he knows something you don't. You swear, his left eye glimmers for a moment. But you're imagining things.
Definitely.
You clear your throat as you stand, adjusting your shorts. You scrape the sides of your sneakers on the concrete flooring before smiling up at Sylus.
"All good here! Done with your warm up? I'm ready to get this over with." You roll your wrist, cracking your neck. Sylus chuckles, striding towards the boxing ring in the centre of the room. His fingers run through his sweaty bangs before crouching under the rope. He forces himself through, the rope giving way under his weight. Sylus reaches out a hand,
"Come on now, sweetie. Get a move on." You grab onto his hand, letting him hoist you into the ring. Your fingers linger on his. "If you were any slower, I'd think you're scared you can't beat me." He chuckles, pushing your buttons. He's talented at that, riling you up until you can't think properly. You shoot Sylus a glare, eliciting another laugh from him. It's hearty, a deep rumble in his chest.
Your feet bounce against the flooring, stumbling softly. Sylus snorts, perching his hands on your hips from behind. He dips his head down, hair swaying softly before flashing you a knowing look.
"Careful, there, kitten." Sylus purrs in your ear, lips brushing against the curve of your neck. "We wouldn't want you to injure yourself before we begin, right?" His breath coats your skin, cheeks flushing. His hard chest presses against the back of your head. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers looped around his wrist.
You pray he can't hear your accelerating heart rate.
You would love to know what makes Sylus the way he is. How he acquired all the skills he has. For one, you would love to understand why and how he knows how to tie a corset. The look on his face makes your stomach churn. That funky feeling returning, butterflies whirling around. The hot flashes that bounce between your ears and cheeks are terrifying. Despite your jitteriness, Sylus's hands stalk up from behind you. His fingers loop around the strings.
With one hand, you scoop your hair to the side, letting his fingers trail down your waist once more. If he notices the goosebumps his touch leaves in its wake, he doesn't mention it. Sylus twirls the strings between his fingers before leaning down to whisper in your ear,
"You should hold onto the mirror if you need to do so." You shake your head, gulping the saliva that pools under your tongue. Your hands settle at your ribs, thrumming against the brace. Sylus gently tugs on the strings, watching the corset cinch in on your waist. The vinyl Sylus has set in the background for the last hour reaches its crescendo.
Sylus's reflection catches your attention. His glasses perched low on his nose, eyes focused on your waist. His gaze is intense, brows furrowed. His eyes flicker to your reflection, swirling with amusement.
"Something wrong, kitten?" Sylus murmurs, a safety pin caught between his teeth causing his canines to lightly flash you. Your eyes widen slightly, glimmering in the low light. Your hands tremble, feeling too exposed under his gaze. Sure, you're covered, but something about his piercing gaze makes you feel as though you're caught under his thumb. You can't move nor breathe.
You feel as though he wouldn't let you go until he is satiated.
Your voice is caught in your throat when Sylus pulls the strings taunt, glaring at him through the mirror. Sylus chuckles, shaking his head. The butterflies grow more wild, rummaging around your organs. Sylus doesn't press you any further, pulling on the strings more. Unable to take any more of this, you lean forward to hold onto the mirror, nails clutching onto the sides.
You inhale sharply, letting out a soft noise of pain. Sylus halts, but his eyes are on your expression. Lips parted, cheeks flushed. Beautiful, he thinks. Sylus praises you heavily, constantly. Oftentimes, you think he's a suck up, vying for your attention. However, seeing his expression right now as you're bent over, clutching onto the mirror, you think it may be genuine.
Desire and adoration float around his jewel-like eyes as they narrow, almost salaciously. It's lewd, intimate in the way he gazes down at your body. His glasses glimmer in the low light, eyes darting between your breasts and bent over back. He ties the string, knotting it into a bow. Despite the corset being tied, his hand remains on your waist. Your gaze is glued to his, your cheeks ripe. You stare at one another, a silent battle to see who is willing to break the boundaries of your very, completely platonic relationship.
He watches arduously. He doesn't miss that way your body trembles under his hands, or how your breath quickens when his hand comes to cup the underside of your corset. He presses it, applying pressure to the area pushing up your breasts. His free hand pushes you upright, pressing your ass into his front. Sylus's hand travels from your chest to your throat, wrapping around such a dangerous place. His thumb finds your pressure point, feeling your pulse ram against it.
He bunches up the skirt in one hand, slow and deliberate. He gives you every chance to back out, to show even the slightest whisper of hesitation. But there isn't. He tips your head back, your hair brushing against his chest. You part your lips, tuning out the music that fills the rooms. Sylus's thumb brushes against your bottom lip, smearing your lipstick.
The pigment transfers onto his thumb, teasing you. He watches you, allowing his breath to fan over your skin. He lies in wait, observing you. Will you make the first move? Just as you're about to press your lips against his, a sharp knock is heard at the door. Both your heads turn to the large, wooden doors. You separate instantaneously, bodies far apart from one another.
"Mister Sylus? Is everything alright? Do you need any assistance?" An attending from the other side of the door asks, knuckles loud against the wood. As Sylus crosses the room to open the door, you fumble with your earrings. Your heart almost lurches out your chest cavity, eyes wide with panic.
What the fuck was that?!
Somewhere along the way, you've understood that Sylus has caught onto your attraction. And perhaps since the very beginning, his attraction for you has been intertwined with every word he speaks.
The feeling is terrifyingly so, mutual.
You cannot ignore it no matter how much you try to run from it, avoid his eyes. You cannot push it deep down inside of you and act as if it does not exist.
Especially not when Sylus continuous to drag the tip of his shoe up the length of your exposed calves, nudging your knees apart under the table. He sits across from you, multiple of your friends and co-workers surrounding the two of you.
In his defense, he tried to sit beside you, make the entire experience less awkward. However, Nero and Andrew were adamant on getting to know Sylus better.
Well— "Skye" better.
The loud music in the club is deafening. You can feel the base in the soles of your heels. So loud in fact, you cannot tune into the conversation the men are having. It unsettles you slightly, being unable to hear Sylus nor touch him despite him being in arm's length.
It feels like you are being subjected to the cruelest form of torture: Being forced to sit and observe quietly.
However, everyone is tipsy by now. Borderline drunk on the expensive champagne Sylus has insisted on ordering for the table. You have not drunken a drop of alcohol, intent of being sober.
You need to keep yourself in check— Keep Sylus in check. You kick under Sylus's shoe, but his foot does not budge from your parted knees. He gives you a stare— One you are all too familiar with.
They're almost a challenge, as if he is beckoning you to do something. He lives on your reactions, constantly poking and prodding to find your weak points so he can exploit them.
You peel your eyes away from him, opting to watch your friends on the dance floor. They're making fools of themselves, yet you don't have to heart to tear them away when they're so obviously having fun. You smile as you sip on your drink.
Eventually, Andrew and Nero leave to go join the girls, leaving only you and Sylus at the table. Sylus takes the initiative to sit beside you in the booth.
The leather-backed seats screech as Sylus slides across them. His shoulders so broad, he blocks the view of your friends. Subsequently, their view of you.
You finally look at the man, his gaze locked onto your face. You're not drunk, nor tipsy in the slightest, yet you feel your body heating up. Sylus inches closer, arm resting on the seat behind you. He does not push, he watches and observes.
That only serves to make you antsy.
Being watched, being observed by Sylus. If you didn't know him any better, you would think he's using that pretty aether core in his eye to pluck out your every desire. But you know Sylus— He wouldn't do such a thing.
Not when you're so vulnerable, melting under his gaze. He values your autonomy, always wanting to see what you will do.
"Kitten." Sylus purrs, his fingers toying with the edges of your skirt. He gently kisses your exposed shoulder. You can audibly hear the contact of his lips to your shoulder— skin on skin. You shiver, a red dust making its way to the tips of your ears. Your nails dig into your palms, making fists on your lap.
Again, Sylus does not push. He only stays consistent with the pressure. He makes his presence known— His desire. Yet, he does not suffocate you with it. You have every chance to push him away, remind him to not touch you so familiarly.
Yet, you don't.
Sylus does not need his aether core to understand that you desire him as deeply he as he does you.
"You look beautiful." He whispers into your ear, watching you curl under his pressure. You're losing your composure, unable to fight against your own desires. Reluctantly, you turn to look at Sylus.
His eyes swirl with a softness that is a completely juxtaposition to his demeanor. A warmth that offers room for you to explore your feelings. You shift your body towards his, letting his arm fall from the seat to coil around your waist.
"Thank you." You say. You let him into your space, shoulder brushing against his button-up shirt. You decide to take the first step this time, tired of cowering around him.
"Should we get out of here?" You try to sound confident, but your voice slightly trembles with unease. Sylus is your rock, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles. A soft reassurance.
"if you wish to." He says so matter of fact you gain some confidence. You nod, letting him guide you out the booth. Sylus waves down Andrew who is helping a drunk Nero back to the table. Andrew replies with a tight smile.
With that, you and Sylus leave hand-in hand.
By the time you arrive to your apartment, you're drunk on the tension. You refuse to hold back any longer. With your legs around his hips, Sylus presses you against the wall. His foot kicks close your door, hands discarding your clothes.
"I want you." You say between breaths. The kiss is sloppy, too eager for his lips against yours. The two of you stumble into the bedroom leaving a trail of clothing. Sylus leaves you in your heels.
He gently twirls you, letting you fall onto your stomach. The mattress bounces with your weight, but soon stops once Sylus presses his knee by your legs. He kisses down your bare spine, using his teeth to unhook your bra.
You let him kiss down your spine, biting the plush of your hips. You kick out at him, but his hand grabs your ankle. You grumble, melting under his lips. He leaves his print on your tailbone, using his teeth to pull of your panties.
They dangle by your knees, letting Sylus stroke your skin. Your ticklish, sensitive under his finger pads. His lips attach to your neck, sucking blotches onto your skin. He enjoys the feeling of your under his palms. Compared to him, you're soft and twitchy.
With his elbow supporting him, Sylus's hand pushes under your body to cup your breast. He uses the sides of his fingers to tweak your nipple, his free hand sliding under your hipbone.
Sylus is intentional with every touch, focused on the little breathes you intakes with your face pressed into the mattress.
"Does this feel good, sweetie? Is this what you wanted from me?" Sylus questions, his lips flush to your ear. You don't have the heart to answer, far too entranced in his touch. It's addictive, leaving sparks all along the expanse of your body.
With him being so attentive and fragile with your feelings, you feel as though you can swim further. Push past the boundaries that the fear of undesirability has constrained you in.
You shuffle, wanting to turn onto your back. Sylus gives you space to shift, but he's quick to slot himself between your thighs. They rest loosely around his hips. He comes down to kiss you.
You show yourself more to him, more honestly. You guide his hands where you want them. One thrillingly pressed against your exposed chest and one at your navel. You let him do the work, entrusting your pleasure with him.
There's no way of escaping his pleasure, his love. Sylus kisses down the column of your throat, between your breasts, before reaching your navel.
He peeks up between his lashes, finding any hesitation. There is none, so he continues his endeavor. His lips kiss down your thighs, finding the warm spot between your legs. You're pulsing with heat and need. Sylus can feel it on his tongue, lapping at your slit.
It's amazing, hands dragging down your body to tug at his strands. You look down at him, finding his jewel eyes staring at you. It gives him a new profound ability to breathe. As if guided by gravity itself, his tongue presses into your entrance, your heels dangling off his shoulders.
He takes you high and low, round and round with only just his tongue. You're overflowing, pressing a palms to the back of his head. You silently instruct him to be more forceful, and he does just that.
His large arms coil around your thighs, his face buried into your sex. His nose bumps at your clit, feeling your grind into his mouth.
It's like he's devouring you from the inside, his tongue curling and prodding at your sweet spot. It blinds you momentarily. The rush of pleasure makes you feel like underwater, drowning in Sylus's touch.
He can hear it too. Your moans grow more free, louder. Your hips move with inhibition, chasing after his touch. As if you want this moment to never end, keep it going until the end of time.
Sylus has no interest in other things, keen on making you feel so good that you will abandon all rational thought.
"Sylus," You call out to him, your back arching into a cruel bow. Your hands claw at the sheets, but Sylus is intent on guiding you through it all.
He's all you can feel, wrapped around you so tightly it almost hurts. The more he drinks you in, the dizzier you feel. From head to toe, it's as if you're paralyzed. All of your senses are frozen on this moment's temperature.
Sylus strings you so high, you fear for the fall. Tears brim at your eyes, you blubber with your fingers wound into his strands. He doesn't deteriorate his momentum. If anything, it grows more intense.
Under his hands and tongue, you tremble delicately. When you reach your peak, you feel so cold for a moment. That only makes it more ecstatic though. Especially when Sylus's tongue guides you through it all, hands grasping your hips to grind your clit onto his nose.
You keep swimming in his pleasure. It's a thrilling tension. One that Sylus is able to ease. Gently, he guides you back to the world, kissing up your body until he reaches your lips.
"Sweetie." He murmurs, watching as you blink back into consciousness. His smiles fondly, hands cupping your face. Your eyes hone in on his expression, fondled with his attention.
You make your move. You push him onto his back, enveloping him. Sylus allows you to explore, letting your palms understand and remember the sensation of his body. The unfamiliarity of his body makes you shake with excitement.
As your hand brushes over his chest, he groans beneath you. Hands clench at your hips, but that only serves to inflame the desire that has yet to be quenched in your core.
"Greedy." Sylus remarks, noticing how intense your gaze is. He allows you to gawk and explore him, hands dragging down his navel. You blink, feeling the sheer weight of him as your palm presses against the tent in his pants.
"I didn't expect that you would like me this much, Sylus." You say, eyes glued to his crotch when you feel his cock throb under your palm. He hisses above you, yet makes no movement to stop you.
"Why wouldn't I? I have always desired you, kitten." He speaks earnestly, his eyes glowing in the darkness of your bedroom. You nod, letting his words envelope you.
"I desire you to an extent that words cannot properly convey it." He stammers, your hand reaching into his pants. Your hand is barely able to circle around his length, mouth watering at the realization.
"I think about you every day. There is no one I am as truly interested in as I am you." Sylus lets a chuckle slip at your expression. His hand cups your cheek, guiding you back to his lips. You happily bend, pressing your lips firmly against his.
His tongue dips between your lips, gliding against yours. Your hand guides his length between your thighs, grinding your sex over his. Sylus moans into your mouth, a free hand kneading your chest. His rough palm against your pebbled nipple, it drives you crazy.
"Come here, baby." Sylus rasps, gently pushing into you. Your thighs are soaked with his saliva and your slick, making it easy for him to press into you. There are no boundaries between your body, Sylus flows into you.
The two of you roll your hips into each other, wanting to take your time. He's gentle with his touches, gingerly pleasuring you from the inside and out.
"So needy, are you? Have you been wanting this for long, sweetie?" You're sure he knows the answer, but you want to confess. It's been weighing on you for so long.
"Yes." You press a hand to your chest, while the other digs crescents into his shoulder. You roll your hips especially strong, breasts softly bouncing near his face. "It feels as though I've wanted this forever." You confess against Sylus's lips.
He happily accepts you, arms winding around your back and hips. He sits up, making it easier to thrust into you. Eagerly, you bounce on him. You want him to feel the emotions that he has invoked in you.
Being with Sylus feels like you're able to breathe, be as greedy as your soul demands. You guide each other up and down, rolling into each other. The entire time, your mouth is pressed against his, tongues dancing freely.
It's overwhelming and that feeling of drowning as slowly returned. Your lungs beg for air, yet you're addicted to the suffocation of Sylus's love.
Your clit grinds into his pelvis, a blossoming pressure builds in your stomach slowly. Eventually, your moans and movement become desperate and sloppy. You need him so bad it hurts.
You let a choked sob slip out, stuffed full of him. Sylus coos, letting you hide into his neck as he takes control. His hands grasp your hips, grinding you on his lap while he meets you with his thrusts.
"I can't—" You let out a breathy moan, groaning at the sheet size of him. Your sex flutters around him, pulsing. Waves of pleasure assault your senses, making it almost impossible to hear.
Your jaw slackens, but you manage to bite down onto Sylus's shoulder. He hisses above you, nails digging into your hips. As if your bodies have become one, you fall together. The knot that builds your stomach and in Sylus's spine explodes, seamlessly flowing in.
A wave of air enters your lungs as you swim with your pleasure for longer. The two of you sit there in the waves of your climaxes, panting and wiping the sweat off your foreheads.
"So beautiful." Sylus presses kisses into your cheeks, lapping away at any stray tears that fall. He flips you onto your back, letting your curl into his mass. His large arms curl around you, tucking you right into his side.
He reaches down to throw your heels off, letting them land somewhere near your dresser. He then pulls the covers over your bodies, feeling you shuffle around to find a comfortable spot. He presses a kiss to your temple, hearing you grimace.
"You're sweaty." You mumble, but there's no bite in his voice. Sylus chuckles, fluffing your hair before letting his own eyes flutter shut.
"You're the one that stares when I sweat, sweetie."
synopsis: valko is in deep heat with the supermoon occurring, and he wants a solution that requires restraints, a collar, and you.
warnings: valko is in heat, sub!valko, good boy!valko, collar use, bondage, riding, overstimulation, biting, licking, scent marking, edging, knots, rutting, monsterfucking.
wc: 2,3k
a/n: i love him already, he's such a cutie. he deserves endless cuddles, BE NICE TO HIM! i want to devour him. I NEED HIM TO EAT ME OU– enjoy a pre-release celebration of our handsome wolf, valko!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
He must be in heat. that’s the only way Valko can describe this feeling. The moon has been full for less than an hour, and he’s already twitching. Usually he can handle himself. But that’s not gonna work out well for him if all he can think about is you.
Your scent is delicious, beyond the scented lotions and perfume, he’s talking about your natural aroma, amplified by sweat and other smells your body emits. It draws him in. He can’t help but sniff the air every time you walk past him. His cock won’t stop twitching in his pants, tenting at the sight of you catching his gaze.
Valko wants to bite you. Valko wants to slather you with his saliva until you smell like him. He wants to rut his cock so deep inside you, cuddle you so close and keep you so warm with his hot body that you just have to call him a good boy.
“…ko,” He must be imagining you saying his name so nice and breathless.
“…alko.” There it is again, louder, your nails could drag down his back until he bleeds and he’d thank you.
“Valko!” He blinks, the mirage of a heated embrace disappearing from his perception to be replaced by your fingers snapping very close to his face. Such pretty fingers, he wants to lick—
“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—
“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”
“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.
Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant.
What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.
But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore.
You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.
Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.
He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it.
“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”
Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.
The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now.
You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish.
“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little.
“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.
You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.
Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.
“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest.
“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.
“Please…”
“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do.
You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?
With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”
“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.
“If you’re grossed out—“
“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”
That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”
“The millisecond.”
His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”
“I’ll put a poet to shame.”
“Pull my hair?”
“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”
A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”
Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.
It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.
The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens.
But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?
You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours.
You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again.
“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.
“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.
He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.
Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it?
His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.
Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”
“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”
You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.
It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.
Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.
Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!
You love these fucking supermoons.
“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”
“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“
“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”
He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”
“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.
“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.
You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”
Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”
“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.”
⤷ 𝓼𝓯𝔀. leon is a stray dog of a man. first kisses. 𝟸.𝟿𝓀
leon is overly tired and very grumpy. it’s no surprise really when he rolled home in the early hours of the morning, bruised and so battered from his recent assignment—spain, if you remember it correctly—but since then, he clearly hasn’t slept and his mood is suffering for it. so, you take it upon yourself to fix it for him
“hey, leon?” you call out softly from your spot on the couch and then wince when you hear a cupboard door slamming shut in the kitchen. he’s been banging around in there for a while and truthfully, you have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish and you find it best not to ask, “c’mere for a second, please,”
it takes a moment but eventually, he leans around the kitchen doorframe with a frown pulling at his brows. he looks exhausted, his eyes are sunken in and the dark circles that are discoloring the tops of his cheeks can’t even hide behind the blonde hairs that hang in front of his face, “what’s up?” he asks, grumbling
his voice is rough, scratchy and faintly worn out, causing it to sound far deeper than it usually does. butterflies swarm low in your stomach over it—like they always do—but you try to ignore it this time whilst you smile and stretch your arms out towards him, “come and lay with me for a while, please,” you plead
the frown that’s painted across leon’s face deepens, his eyes get distant on the surface but you can see behind it—you can see right through him. something soft and melting hides behind the ice of his eyes, something that he doesn’t allow himself to feel often, much less indulge in it when you’re offering, “why?”
answering that with honesty is complicated. telling leon that you’re trying to lure him in, make him relax, force him to be pliant so that he can be tempted with sleep won’t ever work, you learnt that early on and because of it, you’ve had to get creative with telling little white lies that’ll benefit him in the long run
“because, i want you to,” you answer simply, keeping your tone light and airy, treating him as if he’s a shelter animal that’s at risk of backing into the corner, that’s furthest away from wherever you are, with his teeth bared. it’s not really a lie either, you would like him to lay with you but your motives behind it don’t need to be discussed
“but, why?” he asks again, this time sounding desperate and slightly pathetic. he knows that you’re lying in one way or another and he’s letting you. he’d never admit it but you’re the only person that can get away with it. if it were anyone else, he would’ve turned tail and left without even entertaining it
your head tips to the side, eyes raking over his face—the scars, the bruises, the cuts—whilst you make the decision to be somewhat candid with him, if only for his sake, “i just don’t like it when you shut yourself in your room after an assignment, that’s all,” you explain, carefully, still watching him
leon nods, his tongue darting between his lips, “do roommates lay together often?” he snarks, though there’s not a whole lot of heat behind it. he’s trying to deflect your offer, make himself out to be someone that you wouldn’t want near you at all but much to his dismay, it won’t work. it never does and it never will
“i don’t think roommates is the right word anymore, leon,” you point out with a knowing look—one that reminds him of the times you’ve patched him up, scrubbed dried blood from his body and washed gunpowder and god only knows what else from his hair, all without a complaint. “stop being difficult and come over here,”
the change in his eyes is the first thing that you notice, the first sign of submission. the distant look gets overpowered by the softness in an instant when he realises that he’s too exhausted to argue and what good would it do, he’ll only give into you in the end anyway, “yeah—yeah, okay,” he murmurs
finally, he steps out from where he was hiding against the kitchen doorframe. whatever he was doing—or rather, trying to do—in there seemingly becomes irrelevant as he shuffles towards you slowly with the telltale evidence of an ache that spreads throughout every single one of his limbs without his say so
still though, your eyes wander selfishly. his t-shirt is a size too small and clings to his biceps in all of the right places, his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips and one of the legs is caught up around his shin, exposing a ring of tanned skin between his clothing and his socks. he looks comfortable, for once
when he gets close enough, his teeth graze over his bottom lip and his gaze flickers between you and the couch and then over to the television that has been muted ever since you spotted him slinking out of his bedroom. he’s stalling but it only takes a soft flutter of your lashes to get him to cave and fall into you
it’s rather unceremonious and kind of clumsy. his limbs knock against your own and the couch creaks rudely with his added weight but eventually, he just gives up and sort of flops down on top of you, leaving his cheek smushing into your stomach and your legs spreading to accommodate his body
leon sighs. it rattles out of him while his arms snake around your waist, holding you pretty close for a guy who made out like he didn’t want this. it makes you smile, not that he can see it and for the first time ever, you hope that he can’t detect that butterflies that are still whirlwind-ing in your stomach, right under his head
instinctively, your fingers start to card through his hair. it feels like silk against your skin and it’s hard for you to imagine that not all that long ago it was thick with dirt and someone else’s blood—you try not to think about it as leon gives a small grunt of contentment, barely there and muffled but, it’s something
minutes pass by languidly, like time doesn’t really exist when leon is cosplaying as the most handsome weighted blanket. he stays quiet, enjoying the drag of your nails against his scalp and slowly, his breathing starts to even out as sleep starts to entice him but then he goes all at once and he jerks—hard
muscles pull taut all over his body while he goes from being on the edge of slumber to almost wide awake in the blink of an eye, “shouldn’t be—be doing this, i have work to do, reports and stuff” he rambles under his breath, trying to push himself up and away from you and this time you sigh deeply
guilt holds him in its grasp. survivors guilt—maybe. the constant feeling that he’s not allowed to relax, he’s not allowed to indulge in the simplest of things. the feeling that he has to keep going, an act of penance that’ll never be satisfied, no matter the amount of people saved or the heavy toll that it’s taking on his body
“leon—no, lay down,” you urge, though you sound more sympathetic than you’d like to. leon doesn’t like sympathy, he doesn’t like pity either but as your fingers slide underneath the neckline of his shirt and splay across tense muscles, he pauses, forces out a shuddered breath and then reluctantly relaxes again
“why do you even care about this?”
you flinch when leon can’t even ask why you care about him. he swaps the word with ease, leaves it unsaid but implied—even if he doesn’t mean to, “because i just do and if i didn’t, then who would?” you ask. it’s rhetorical, open ended if he wants to respond but there’s no pressure for him to try
strong arms loop around your waist again and large hands flatten against your spine, touching and committing the most ordinary parts of your body to memory, like it was made just for him, “you shouldn’t,” he whispers and the worst part is, he truly means it. he really doesn’t believe that anyone would care about him
“mhmm—sounded like a rough one this time so i’m trying to extra care of…this,” you breathe, repeating the same phrase that he used whilst shifting the subject ever so slightly. leon grunts in agreement—it was a rough job—and it gives you the chance to ask your favorite question, “do you want to talk about it?”
“no,”
just as you expected, the normal response. you have to ask him though and you won’t press the issue further, you won’t try to force him to open up about what he went through. instead, you leave it be and let an easy silence fill the space between you and him. you’re there if he changes his mind and that’s enough
in the meantime though, you drift your fingertips up and down the back of leon’s neck, tickling and just barely scratching your nails up through his hair and right back down to the top of his spine whilst leon seems to lose himself in a deep thought, one that allows you to see the proverbial cogs turning in his mind
a moment later, something shifts. you can’t pinpoint it and it’s odd because you feel it before anything really happens, almost like something prepares you for the shaky lungful of air that leon sucks into his body but then it leaves you high and dry, caught wholly off guard, for the gentle press of lips against your hipbone
it’s not a kiss—it can’t be. leon must’ve done it accidentally. too engrossed in his thoughts to realise that he did it but it felt like a kiss. fizzling beneath your skin, blossoming throughout your veins, a thing that you’ve wanted for too long. fleeting and sweet, causing you to overthink it, spoiling yourself with it. and then,
“i nearly died this time,”
your heart sinks. swooping low, stealing the air from your lungs. it hurts to hear, especially from a guy who has the most awful habit of consistently downplaying every single thing that happens to him, “w-what—oh my god—wait, come up here, please,” you gasp, screwing your hands into his shirt to haul him upwards
leon moves promptly, clambering and collapsing into the sliver of space between your body and the back of the couch. he slots in with ease and rolls you to face him, pressing his broad chest into yours as he settles his head against the armrest. he’s so close, more so than he’s ever been before but it's not enough
before you can think better of it, you’re draping your thigh up and over leon’s hip and tentatively resting your hand on his ribs but it doesn’t quite have the desired effect when leon flinches. a bruise from his assignment makes his body jerk and immediately, you feel awful and try to snatch your hand back
“no—don’t,” leon mumbles, vulnerable and out of his depth, while he catches your wrist and pulls your hand back to put it in it’s place. his own hand hovers over yours, displaying a size difference that makes you feel a little bit dizzy before his hand flits to your thigh and smooths tenderly up the outside of your leg
seconds bleed into minutes as you take the time to just exist with leon being so close. his breath fans over your cheek with every exhale and his hand squeezes lightly at your thigh but ultimately, you build up the courage to ask, “how did you—how did you almost…” you trail off, unable to say the words out loud
“that part doesn’t—it doesn’t matter,” leon answers you, too fast and frowning. his walls go back up—albeit, they’re only half the size that they normally are and ready to crumble at moments notice—while he attempts to draw your attention away from his confession. though, all it does is leave you feeling confused
an incredulous laugh bubbles in your throat, “leon—that’s insane, it does matter—you matter,” you rant frantically, hung up on the fact that you really almost lost him this time. sure—it’s a constant risk with his job but hearing him admit it makes it all too much for you to handle, “i mean—how can you even say that it—”
“i thought about you,”
oh. your previously sunken heart swells when leon cuts you off. your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat but your mind muddles with every single plausible implication of his words. maybe it’s wishful thinking on your part but it all leads back to one singular thing. still though, you blurt, “why?”
“i don’t know—i just—” leon stops himself and then presses his lips into a thin line. his eyes harden, only slightly, and his walls build themselves up to their full height. he’s struggling and you don’t blame him but you need to know and your fingers screwing into his shirt urges him on, “all i could think about was you and—”
you can’t take it anymore. you crowd into the small amount of personal space that he has left and press your lips into his and his walls collapse. he doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t waste another second before he’s kissing you back. soft, slow, sweet, all of the things that you weren’t entirely sure that he was capable of
his hand finds your waist, squeezing and tugging you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. your hand slides over his jaw and he doesn’t wince when you brush against the bruise that’s blooming underneath your palm. if it hurts him, he doesn’t show it because he’s too busy. he’s right where he wants to be
it’s all consuming, swallowing both of you whole where you lay on the couch until the air in your lungs begins to thin, causing you and leon to part your lips in an effort to breathe. he’s smiling though, you can feel it against your mouth whilst your chest rises and falls with every gasping breath
“shit—if i’d known—would’a told you ages ago,” leon mumbles in between kisses that have turned needy. it’s like he’s been teased with the taste of you and he’s worried that if he pulls away now, he’ll never get it again. somehow, the thought of that is far more harrowing than anything he’s ever encountered on a job
“what do you mean—ages ago?” you whisper, also refusing to interrupt the lazy flow of kisses that are being shared between you and him, as your fingers ghost up his jaw and into his hair once more. not pulling or tugging, just playing deftly in a way that makes him grunt low in his chest and grip your waist harder
he hesitates now. stuck somewhere between wanting to wear his heart on his sleeve and wanting to keep all of his secrets under lock and key. there’s a lull in his kisses, a moment where he’s too stuck to remember that he’s supposed to be kissing you back but when you threaten to pull away, he makes his decision quickly
“i think about you every time—all the time,” leon concedes with his bloodshot eyes wildly searching yours. he sounds sure of himself, no mumbling or muttering under his breath, he’s admitting it and you can practically see the weight of it lifting off of his shoulders, “it’s always just—you,” he breathes
inside of your chest, your heart is preparing to burst. it aches with happiness and an overwhelming sense of fulfilment and you can’t stop yourself from surging forwards to kiss him again. leon gasps as his bottom lip slots between yours—a sound that you haven’t ever heard from him—and then when you pull back, he grunts
“think about you too,” you giggle, sharing his sentiment, before you wriggle in close and tuck yourself against leon’s body. you fit together like puzzle pieces, your head slotting under his chin while his muscular arms wrap you up. you’ve found your place and you never plan on leaving, “miss you when you’re gone,”
“yeah?” leon chuckles, deep and throaty, muffled by his lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you yawn and nod in response, “thought you were trying to trick me into sleeping,” he teases, revealing that he knew what you were trying to do this entire time—you’re not mad about it though
still though, you playfully huff, “yeah—well—i am,” you mumble and press your ear against his chest to listen to the thrum of his heart beating. it’s an even thump, not panicked or rushed, just satisfied, “you’re gonna nap with me,” you garble around another yawn as leon’s exhaustion becomes infectious
“am i?” leon asks, though he’s already rearranging himself to get comfortable and tightening his arms around you, holding you close and trapping you against him. you nod again, not giving him a choice, but he doesn’t seem to care when he’s kissing your temple and whispering a peaceful, “yeah—i am,”
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