i plan on being very transparent with you all about updates on series & when one shots will be released. you all deserve that respect instead of being in the dark! if you ever want an update, please feel free to ask me and i will provide you with my best estimate! you can also checkout the series' masterlist because i will be putting eta's on there as well!
i do not consent to stealing or modifying my works.
Do you plan on updating Dutyās Cruel Embrace š„ŗ itās one of my fav fics and lives rent free in my head šš
hihihi!!
thank you so much for being a fan of duty's cruel embrace! it is my favorite series to write and is my favorite work so far!
i definitely plan on continuing this series! i am about halfway through this next chapter, which will open up the rest of the series with the fallout of a few events & choices! super excited for you all to see it! :)
Hi there, look, I know that maybe it's not the best time to make a request because of everything that's happened with the Lads game at that moment. But I would like to know that you want to finish as series Duty's Cruel Embrace and Rotten Apples I am waiting a long time to see the outcomes of this story because they are my favorites that you have written... so could you think about continuing them please? I would be so happy to see a good ending for the Boys and the Reader (non mc).
hey there!!
i do plan on continuing all of my current series.
i am struggling with immense writers block at the moment, so please be patient with me! my life has also been fairly hectic (been working at a lot of conventions so i've been traveling around a lot) and i'm trying to balance everything the best that i can!
the next chapter of duty's cruel embrace is halfway written and i have just begun writing the final chapter of rotten apples!! i hope to have some time this weekend to finish & post at least one of them!!
thank you so much for your message and your patience, truly, it means the world to me!!!!
Hey everyone! š I know I said I wouldn't post about the Lads Game after Valko's cancellation, but I've got some super important news about the Infold. I truly believe that if we spread the word, we can help save not just Valko, but the entire game!
I apologize if some of the subtitles are in Portuguese, but as I said earlier I am Brazilian so... I forgot to translate into English.
@madam8, @flirtwithluck, @theliving-radio, @rcvcgers, @wendeeesaucy, @igotanidea but once sorry for marking without asking permission, but it is very important!
pulled out from a private auction to discuss eoncore trades with onychinus, valko was not prepared to meet the infamous sylus with two toddlers clinging to his pant legs.
theyād done dealings before, and are on relatively good termsā the standard being: having had no major war between their factions and menā but he cannot still understand the inner workings of his business partner.
because when sylus leaves the room to answer a phone call, he wonders why in this planet would he leave his two children, vulnerable and defenseless, alone with a stranger.
valko worries for the childrenās safety. especially this one named lucian, who balances himself on the edge of the seatās headrest.
āyouāll fall.ā he states, because it is a fact.
āno, wonāt.ā the sharply dressed little one replies just as assuredly. his new suit squeaks and threads strain under the unusual movements.
the other one, identical in features but not in behavior, sits on the very seat just below his brother. if lucian falls, lucian-two will be squished.
he is used to this, he tells himself.
watching pups in the pack play rough never bothered him, as it is a natural part of growth. essential for development. necessary for success. he used to believe that other children would benefit from the way a wolf is raised.
and yet, here he is at the edge of his seatā nails digging into the poor armrests as lucian wavers and wobbles on the beam, threatening the false sense of safety of his twin, who would not speak to him, and most definitely would not appreciate him moving him.
ready to leap and catch, should a wrong step emerge victorious.
even if he were to fall, valko should think not to worry.
as these ones smell different.
milk, blueberries, sweet cereal and cream. but beneath, fire and smoke, a distant field, a buried memory.
surely, they would be like their father. formidable, indestructible. too large to touch, too mythical to fathom.
the twin blinks sleepily at him. still refusing to speak. head lolling forward, out of his control.
surelyā¦
āah!ā lucianās foot slips. valko lurches.
lucian is snatched from his momentary free fall, and cradled into safe arms.
valkoās tongue knows no cage. ātold you.ā
lucianās knows no manners, but sticks his tongue out at him cheekily. ābleh!ā
valko tilts his head. amused.
āwoosian,ā finally, his twin speaks. peeking over the edge of the armrest to look at them. ābe nice.ā
āam nice!ā lucian protests. in support valko grins and tickles his belly.
āhe is.ā
the little one gasps when he is acknowledged and bends his head back down to hide away.
ācome on, little hatchling, i donāt bite.ā valko says, placing lucian on his shoulder and leaning over to kyros slowly. āmy name is valko.ā
he places a finger on the upholstery, an olive branch.
the little one shifts on his knees and stares at the bejeweled handā big, strong but not unsettling. slowly, he emerges and places his own fingers around it and shakes. āi kee-wo.ā
ākeewo?ā valkoās chest blooms at the first sign of trust. something ancient and instinctive stirring in him that tells him now he must protect.
āno, kee-wo!ā
ākee-ro?ā valko tries again.
confirmation never comes.
āwhy have eews?ā kyros asks instead. now having broken the wall, he begins to quickly forget he was even shy in the first place. he hovers his hands over his own head, where he sees the faint glow of phantom ears on this strangerās head. āvakoo, why have eews?ā
āyou can see them?ā he should worry. but he smiles broadly, fangs glimmering in delight. he made sure to use most of his active efforts to hide his true form when in public. and up until this point, he believed that he had a pretty good talent at looking unremarkable.
āee-yors?ā lucian scrambles in his arms, climbing a sturdy shoulder to get a closer look. āwhere, ee-yors?ā
āmhm,ā kyros stands on the chair now. he swishes his hips in a cute wiggle to visualize, āand taiwā wish wish.ā
ālike fox?!ā lucian climbs and crawls over his new friend as if he were magnetic.
āhey!ā valko yelps when the little ones circle him. one inspecting his tail closely while the other desperately tries to find it. āslow down! careful!ā
he pauses his shuffling to watch kyros sniffing him. soā¦ wolf-like and yet not.
intrigued, he asks. āwhat do you got?ā
kyros sniffs the air in small snortsā like heās congested but taking everything in still. āwoofy.ā
valkoās eyes widen at the simple conclusion. brows pinching, he thinks: these children are definitely different.
āah! gotcha!ā lucian squeals when he finally spots the faint glimmer of his tail. in an instant, the once hatchling transforms into a kitten, chasing a tail that refuses to be caught.
valko, contrary to the look on his face, revels in the discovery of other creatures that lurk in the dark. and that these very creatures, so different and yet so similar, can also thrive in the light.
he doesnāt know of the little onesā evols, nor does he understand how they can see him as he truly is.
but the longer lucian lingers and scrambles to catch his tail or pet his earsā the more kyros sinks into the comfort of his presence and beams at the joy of his interactions; glows with a golden mist that brings clarity to illusionā the more certain small horns and wings begin to take form in their silhouettes.
and he understands now, that their father never left them defenseless in the first place.
I am incredibly upset by this whole situation and I feel very sorry for the creative team responsible for creating Valko.
The decision taken by Infold has not only destroyed trust towards the company, but also damaged relations amongst fans. It was the worst possible choice. Itās not just incompetent, but also foolish, short-sighted, and only leaves the company more vulnerable to further blows of this kind.
I have no intention of changing my attitude towards the characters in any way, nor of stopping drawing any of them. It is the characters themselvesāinto whom the creative teams have put so much effortāthat I love, not Infoldās attitude towards the fans.
Everything is feeling a little heavy, but that's alright because Valko is heavier.
ABOUT | 2500 words. fluff. pre-relationship. first kiss. UST. self indulgent. emotional hurt/comfort.
"Whatcha watching?"
Your body jerks in surprise, sending your phone tumbling to the floor as your hands come up to muffle the high-pitched yelp startled out of you.
The sound of the cat compilation video echoing through the living room undermines the fierceness of your glare when you turn to face your intruder. That teasing rumble all too close ā and all too familiar ā to belong to anyone else but-
"Valko," you chide, wishing you could blame the jumpscare when your stomach dips at the sight of his windblown hair and innocent expression so close to yours.
Though letting himself into your apartment like this was nothing new, had become a part of your routine for months at this point, if you're honest, there was something that had been feeling different about Valko's visits to you lately. Less vexing and moreā¦ comforting.
An increased awareness of him, maybe? The sound of his voice. His size. The way his laugh and personality managed to fill the room more than his bulky body. Of the way he always tripped over your living room rug or tried to sneak a rub of his scent into every pillow. Of the way he stood so close when he spoke to you, capturing you in the sweet honey of his eyes.
It was something warm that pulsed in your chest, something intimate that had started to hook your gaze to his mouth and magnetize your palms to his skin even today, when you're at your lowest.
His right ear twitches at the sound of his name as he grabs your phone from the floor, a crease of distaste scrunching his nose when he clicks on the screen to stop the noise and tsks, "Looks like my 'dogs are better than cats' speech needs some work."
"Maybe I'll be more in the mood to hear you outā" you take your phone back and set it on the table with a huff, "āwhen my 'please use the damn front door' speech finally penetrates that thick skull of yours."
A crooked grin scrawls over his face. The pointed tips of his incisors reflecting the dim light of the small lamp you'd flicked on purely to save you from feeling like a complete gremlin while you moped this evening.
"Gonna tell you the same thing I tell Ma every time she says that." He unfurls from the crouching position he'd been in and drops his weight beside you, making your normally sizeable loveseat suddenly feel cramped. "Processing info is for the ears, not the skull."
Resting your cheek in your palm, you narrow your eyes at him with a considering hum.
"What?" Your uninvited houseguest turns to face you, eliciting a concerning creak from the loveseat as his knee comes up to rest on the cushion and his arm drapes over the back. An oversized paw just shy of brushing your shoulder. "What d'you mean, 'hm?'"
"Trespasser, jumpscaring people, terrible manners, and a smart ass to your mother?" You note each transgression by holding up a finger. "No wonder you're always prowling around Linkon alone."
"Hey, hey! Woah, woah, hold on." His hand darts forward, covering yours like it'll hide the evidence. "Noā I meanā sure I may be some of those things, but trust me," he puts one of your fingers down and leans forward, another sad groan coming from below the cushion as he rests his elbow on his knee. "I wouldn't be sitting here, or hanging out with you ā or breathing ā if I were a smart ass to my mother."
Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your lip twitch, the closest youāve come to a smile all day.
It surprises you how naturally it comes, how much lighter you feel, as you take in his easy grin, his warm palms, his artless gaze. Makes you worry that you're becoming used to this feeling, to something you might be misreading.
"Why?"
"Well, she has this really brutal way of grabbing you by the ear andā"
"Noā" the word dissolves on a giggle that has both his ears twitching and an expression you can't quite interpret crossing his face. "I mean, why are you sitting here? Hanging out with me?"
"Oh. I kind ofā" He stops, a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he looks down at your still-linked hands. "I mean, I sorta felt like something wasā¦ off. With you." You're suddenly glad for the loss of his gaze as he starts to fiddle with your fingers, pressing the pads of his fingers to the tops of your nails as if to test their sharpness. "It's like a.. tug?"
Your mind races with panic as you realize just how much your attraction to him has been tugging at you over his last few visits. "Are you saying that with thisā this bond or whatever, you can feel my emotions?"
"Nah, it's not like that." You hope he can't see the stark relief in your gaze when his eyes meet yours again, letting go of your hand to press a palm to the center of his chest. "It's not emotions that call me, it's, wellā¦ you. Calling me, that is. Needing me. Or, pulling at me, more like."
Your brows arc upward. "Like a leash?"
His head shoots back dramatically, paired with a groan that sounds almost as distressed as the loveseat still suffering under his weight. "Mercy, little hellion. Let a man keep at least a little dignity." He shakes his head with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "But yeah. You've got me leashed up good. Happy?"
His question is gentle but pointed, hopeful. His frame still leaning over you, an umbrella shielding you from the sadness and negativity that have been pelting you all day.
Your chest warms at the sight, making it all the harder to respond with a sad smile and the shake of your head as the all the reasons you're not happy come flooding back.
"Alright," he says easily, unphased and unrelenting. A considering look enters his eyes. "Just means I've gotta take more drastic measures here."
In a blur of movements you barely have time to process, he turns his back to you, kicks off his boots ā an oddly polite gesture that has you reconsidering just how serious he was about that leash comment ā and flops backward. The broad span of his shoulders forces your bent knees down to accommodate the weight of his head as it nestles into your thighs.
"V-Valko! What are you doing?" you stutter, heartbeat galloping as the scent of amber and pine and him wash over you. His ear twitches as he takes your awkwardly hovering hands, placing one behind the wolf ear on his right and the other behind the human ear on his left.
"There," he says with a wiggle of his shoulders, like your thighs are a pillow he's nestling into.
When he notices your hands haven't budged, he gives you an expectant look, nudging the sides of his head into your palms until your lips twitch and your fingers start to move.
"This is your drastic measure?"
He hums in response, eyelashes fluttering as your nails scrape gently over a rose-coloured mix of silky hair and plush fur.
"And this is supposed toā¦" The question trails off but your hands continue.
He shrugs, the heat of his shoulders anchoring your thighs as one of his arms sneaks around your waist.
"I dunno, distract you? Annoy you, comfort you, take your pick." His eyes lock onto yours, sincere, earnest. "Whatever you need."
The combination of his touch and his words act like a stick of dynamite, blasting through the boulder of tension and worry that's been sitting on your chest all day.
You take a deep breath as he sighs in what you instinctually know is relief. And for the first time since he's mentioned this "bond" of yours, you think, maybe this thing goes both ways.
The thought that you might be starting to figure him out as well as he always seems to understand you brings a small smile to your face.
His lips mirror yours. "That's what I like to see," he says, voice low.
You roll your eyes and flick his ear to disguise the way your stomach flips when the praise rumbles through your thighs, flexing them to jostle him and joke, "What? Me being suffocated?"
His finger comes up to tap the end of your nose with a self-assured grin. "Stop pretending you dont like it, I saw that weighted blanket on your bed." You're not sure if it's you or the loveseat that squeaks when he tugs you into his face and nuzzles into your stomach. "Wanna tell me what's got you down?"
There's something about Valko's bluntness, about his willingness to tackle everything head-on, that catches you more off-guard than his casual and abundant displays of affection ever do. It's straightforward, without artifice. And though there's no hesitation in his request, there's somehow no pressure in it either. As if no response you give him could ever result in offense or resentment or awkwardness, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world to tell the unvarnished truth.
So you do.
"It's justā¦ everything? I don't know, it's all piling up. Like, there's work, lack of sleep, friends I'm not keeping up with, not to mention the general state of the world."
You pause, finding his attentive gaze already on you when you look down to see if you're making any sense. He nods encouragingly, the ears on his head twitching in unison like an attentive audience.
"So I guess I've just been thinking about it all and it feels a little overwhelming. Right here." You press a hand to your chest. "Andā¦ heavy, I guess. Likeā" You raise a pointed brow. "Like getting crushed by a giant mutt on my own sofa."
His jaw drops in dramatic affront. āYouā did you just-ā He snaps into a sitting position, your loveseat groaning in despair before he points a finger at himself, as if there could be anyone else you were talking about. āMutt?! Oh you just crossed a line, you hellion.ā
Any response you mightāve had morphs into a high-pitched squeal as youāre scooped up by a muscular arm and thrown over his shoulder.
āValko! What are you doing? Put me down,ā you manage through giggles and laughter as he hauls you to the bedroom with what sounds like a muttered 'Iāll show you a giant mutt.'
You land on the mattress with a breathless oomph, the stray laughs bubbling from your throat feeling foreign but welcome as Valko descends over your figure in an army crawl, finally stopping when you're nose to nose.
Your chests meet on each breath as he reaches up to brush hair from your face. His eyes seem more yellow than amber in the dim light, like marigolds, and you can't think of anything more fitting for the resilient, protective man above you.
"Hi," you breathe, grinning wide.
"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, darting a glance at your lips that has your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.
The shadow of his tail swishes behind him as he lowers his weight onto you, fitting his body over yours in a way that anchors and comforts you rather than stifles you.
"Better?" He mumbles into your neck, the heat of his breath awakening gooseflesh over your collarbones. "You know, now that you've made my pedigree your punching bag?"
"Yeah, actually," you realize with a giggle, fingers brushing over the soft bristles of his undercut. "I do."
You haven't laughed this much in a while. In fact, despite being pinned under the heaviest man you know, you haven't felt this light for a few weeks now, you think, which wasā¦ the last time he visited you. You close your eyes briefly, mourning the loss of your sanity at the realization that he was right earlier. You had needed him.
"Then listen to me real quick." Your hand slips to his jaw when he raises his head, his smile smaller, his eyes intent. "Next time you feel overwhelmed, or if it's all feeling like too much, you don't have to isolate yourself, or doomscroll, or muscle through it alone. I know I look like I'm all brains but I can help carry things. So just call me, yeah?"
You smile, agreeing with a small nod, pausing before you joke, "With the leash?"
"Okay, who's the smart ass now?" he mutters with a shake of his head, crooked grin back in place. "I meant with a phone. But the leash works too, I guess."
"What's it like?" you ask, curious for the first time since you've learned of it.
"The bond?" His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, a knuckle tracing your cheek. "It's like one of those less traveled paths in the woods. Barely visible to the naked eye, but once you find it and start walking on it, everything starts to feelā¦ right."
"Your chest gets really warm and you have this zappy feeling in your gut." His lips tip up in a faraway smile as his eyes follow the path his knuckle makes over your ear, your neck, your collarbones. "Everything feels possible when it's there. Lighter. And when it's gone? Anything you do feels wrong. Empty."
"Butā¦" You swallow past the heartbeat in your throat. "I thought you couldn't feel my emotions," you protest weakly.
A spark ignites in his eyes, electric enough to charge the air between you as his expression morphs into what you can only identify as a primal satisfaction. He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to memorize the scent of this moment, holding your gaze as his eyelids lower.
"I can't," he breathes, so close his nose brushes against yours when he shakes his head. "Those were all mine."
Your lips part, tongue hovering in wait between your teeth as his palm comes up under your chin, fingers settling on both sides of your jaw to draw you in. Your eyes shut as his lips descend over yours, and despite the warmth of his palm, the first brush of his tongue feel like being doused in flame. You wrap your arms around his neck on a moan, humming when he tilts your head to lick into your mouth again and again.
"Valko." The soft, fuzzy sensation of his buzzed hair grazes your knuckles and he sighs into your mouth, as if you're breathing life back into him with the sound of his name.
You take the chance to nip at his lip, holding it hostage between yours until he answers in kind. The sharpness of his teeth like bee stings on your mouth, soothed only by the sweet honey of a tongue that's licking, tasting, consuming the flushed skin between your lips and your throat.
His body sinks into yours, each of his muscles and contours taking shape around yours like heated metal, a weapon being forged for its master, its weight the heaviest thing you'll ever have to carry again.
ā»ā» MORE VALKO
NOTE: They can take my undomesticated wolf man from me in the game but he will live on as a terrible house guest in my delusions forever xoxo
Everything is feeling a little heavy, but that's alright because Valko is heavier.
ABOUT | 2500 words. fluff. pre-relationship. first kiss. UST. self indulgent. emotional hurt/comfort.
"Whatcha watching?"
Your body jerks in surprise, sending your phone tumbling to the floor as your hands come up to muffle the high-pitched yelp startled out of you.
The sound of the cat compilation video echoing through the living room undermines the fierceness of your glare when you turn to face your intruder. That teasing rumble all too close ā and all too familiar ā to belong to anyone else but-
"Valko," you chide, wishing you could blame the jumpscare when your stomach dips at the sight of his windblown hair and innocent expression so close to yours.
Though letting himself into your apartment like this was nothing new, had become a part of your routine for months at this point, if you're honest, there was something that had been feeling different about Valko's visits to you lately. Less vexing and moreā¦ comforting.
An increased awareness of him, maybe? The sound of his voice. His size. The way his laugh and personality managed to fill the room more than his bulky body. Of the way he always tripped over your living room rug or tried to sneak a rub of his scent into every pillow. Of the way he stood so close when he spoke to you, capturing you in the sweet honey of his eyes.
It was something warm that pulsed in your chest, something intimate that had started to hook your gaze to his mouth and magnetize your palms to his skin even today, when you're at your lowest.
His right ear twitches at the sound of his name as he grabs your phone from the floor, a crease of distaste scrunching his nose when he clicks on the screen to stop the noise and tsks, "Looks like my 'dogs are better than cats' speech needs some work."
"Maybe I'll be more in the mood to hear you outā" you take your phone back and set it on the table with a huff, "āwhen my 'please use the damn front door' speech finally penetrates that thick skull of yours."
A crooked grin scrawls over his face. The pointed tips of his incisors reflecting the dim light of the small lamp you'd flicked on purely to save you from feeling like a complete gremlin while you moped this evening.
"Gonna tell you the same thing I tell Ma every time she says that." He unfurls from the crouching position he'd been in and drops his weight beside you, making your normally sizeable loveseat suddenly feel cramped. "Processing info is for the ears, not the skull."
Resting your cheek in your palm, you narrow your eyes at him with a considering hum.
"What?" Your uninvited houseguest turns to face you, eliciting a concerning creak from the loveseat as his knee comes up to rest on the cushion and his arm drapes over the back. An oversized paw just shy of brushing your shoulder. "What d'you mean, 'hm?'"
"Trespasser, jumpscaring people, terrible manners, and a smart ass to your mother?" You note each transgression by holding up a finger. "No wonder you're always prowling around Linkon alone."
"Hey, hey! Woah, woah, hold on." His hand darts forward, covering yours like it'll hide the evidence. "Noā I meanā sure I may be some of those things, but trust me," he puts one of your fingers down and leans forward, another sad groan coming from below the cushion as he rests his elbow on his knee. "I wouldn't be sitting here, or hanging out with you ā or breathing ā if I were a smart ass to my mother."
Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your lip twitch, the closest youāve come to a smile all day.
It surprises you how naturally it comes, how much lighter you feel, as you take in his easy grin, his warm palms, his artless gaze. Makes you worry that you're becoming used to this feeling, to something you might be misreading.
"Why?"
"Well, she has this really brutal way of grabbing you by the ear andā"
"Noā" the word dissolves on a giggle that has both his ears twitching and an expression you can't quite interpret crossing his face. "I mean, why are you sitting here? Hanging out with me?"
"Oh. I kind ofā" He stops, a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he looks down at your still-linked hands. "I mean, I sorta felt like something wasā¦ off. With you." You're suddenly glad for the loss of his gaze as he starts to fiddle with your fingers, pressing the pads of his fingers to the tops of your nails as if to test their sharpness. "It's like a.. tug?"
Your mind races with panic as you realize just how much your attraction to him has been tugging at you over his last few visits. "Are you saying that with thisā this bond or whatever, you can feel my emotions?"
"Nah, it's not like that." You hope he can't see the stark relief in your gaze when his eyes meet yours again, letting go of your hand to press a palm to the center of his chest. "It's not emotions that call me, it's, wellā¦ you. Calling me, that is. Needing me. Or, pulling at me, more like."
Your brows arc upward. "Like a leash?"
His head shoots back dramatically, paired with a groan that sounds almost as distressed as the loveseat still suffering under his weight. "Mercy, little hellion. Let a man keep at least a little dignity." He shakes his head with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "But yeah. You've got me leashed up good. Happy?"
His question is gentle but pointed, hopeful. His frame still leaning over you, an umbrella shielding you from the sadness and negativity that have been pelting you all day.
Your chest warms at the sight, making it all the harder to respond with a sad smile and the shake of your head as the all the reasons you're not happy come flooding back.
"Alright," he says easily, unphased and unrelenting. A considering look enters his eyes. "Just means I've gotta take more drastic measures here."
In a blur of movements you barely have time to process, he turns his back to you, kicks off his boots ā an oddly polite gesture that has you reconsidering just how serious he was about that leash comment ā and flops backward. The broad span of his shoulders forces your bent knees down to accommodate the weight of his head as it nestles into your thighs.
"V-Valko! What are you doing?" you stutter, heartbeat galloping as the scent of amber and pine and him wash over you. His ear twitches as he takes your awkwardly hovering hands, placing one behind the wolf ear on his right and the other behind the human ear on his left.
"There," he says with a wiggle of his shoulders, like your thighs are a pillow he's nestling into.
When he notices your hands haven't budged, he gives you an expectant look, nudging the sides of his head into your palms until your lips twitch and your fingers start to move.
"This is your drastic measure?"
He hums in response, eyelashes fluttering as your nails scrape gently over a rose-coloured mix of silky hair and plush fur.
"And this is supposed toā¦" The question trails off but your hands continue.
He shrugs, the heat of his shoulders anchoring your thighs as one of his arms sneaks around your waist.
"I dunno, distract you? Annoy you, comfort you, take your pick." His eyes lock onto yours, sincere, earnest. "Whatever you need."
The combination of his touch and his words act like a stick of dynamite, blasting through the boulder of tension and worry that's been sitting on your chest all day.
You take a deep breath as he sighs in what you instinctually know is relief. And for the first time since he's mentioned this "bond" of yours, you think, maybe this thing goes both ways.
The thought that you might be starting to figure him out as well as he always seems to understand you brings a small smile to your face.
His lips mirror yours. "That's what I like to see," he says, voice low.
You roll your eyes and flick his ear to disguise the way your stomach flips when the praise rumbles through your thighs, flexing them to jostle him and joke, "What? Me being suffocated?"
His finger comes up to tap the end of your nose with a self-assured grin. "Stop pretending you dont like it, I saw that weighted blanket on your bed." You're not sure if it's you or the loveseat that squeaks when he tugs you into his face and nuzzles into your stomach. "Wanna tell me what's got you down?"
There's something about Valko's bluntness, about his willingness to tackle everything head-on, that catches you more off-guard than his casual and abundant displays of affection ever do. It's straightforward, without artifice. And though there's no hesitation in his request, there's somehow no pressure in it either. As if no response you give him could ever result in offense or resentment or awkwardness, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world to tell the unvarnished truth.
So you do.
"It's justā¦ everything? I don't know, it's all piling up. Like, there's work, lack of sleep, friends I'm not keeping up with, not to mention the general state of the world."
You pause, finding his attentive gaze already on you when you look down to see if you're making any sense. He nods encouragingly, the ears on his head twitching in unison like an attentive audience.
"So I guess I've just been thinking about it all and it feels a little overwhelming. Right here." You press a hand to your chest. "Andā¦ heavy, I guess. Likeā" You raise a pointed brow. "Like getting crushed by a giant mutt on my own sofa."
His jaw drops in dramatic affront. āYouā did you just-ā He snaps into a sitting position, your loveseat groaning in despair before he points a finger at himself, as if there could be anyone else you were talking about. āMutt?! Oh you just crossed a line, you hellion.ā
Any response you mightāve had morphs into a high-pitched squeal as youāre scooped up by a muscular arm and thrown over his shoulder.
āValko! What are you doing? Put me down,ā you manage through giggles and laughter as he hauls you to the bedroom with what sounds like a muttered 'Iāll show you a giant mutt.'
You land on the mattress with a breathless oomph, the stray laughs bubbling from your throat feeling foreign but welcome as Valko descends over your figure in an army crawl, finally stopping when you're nose to nose.
Your chests meet on each breath as he reaches up to brush hair from your face. His eyes seem more yellow than amber in the dim light, like marigolds, and you can't think of anything more fitting for the resilient, protective man above you.
"Hi," you breathe, grinning wide.
"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, darting a glance at your lips that has your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.
The shadow of his tail swishes behind him as he lowers his weight onto you, fitting his body over yours in a way that anchors and comforts you rather than stifles you.
"Better?" He mumbles into your neck, the heat of his breath awakening gooseflesh over your collarbones. "You know, now that you've made my pedigree your punching bag?"
"Yeah, actually," you realize with a giggle, fingers brushing over the soft bristles of his undercut. "I do."
You haven't laughed this much in a while. In fact, despite being pinned under the heaviest man you know, you haven't felt this light for a few weeks now, you think, which wasā¦ the last time he visited you. You close your eyes briefly, mourning the loss of your sanity at the realization that he was right earlier. You had needed him.
"Then listen to me real quick." Your hand slips to his jaw when he raises his head, his smile smaller, his eyes intent. "Next time you feel overwhelmed, or if it's all feeling like too much, you don't have to isolate yourself, or doomscroll, or muscle through it alone. I know I look like I'm all brains but I can help carry things. So just call me, yeah?"
You smile, agreeing with a small nod, pausing before you joke, "With the leash?"
"Okay, who's the smart ass now?" he mutters with a shake of his head, crooked grin back in place. "I meant with a phone. But the leash works too, I guess."
"What's it like?" you ask, curious for the first time since you've learned of it.
"The bond?" His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, a knuckle tracing your cheek. "It's like one of those less traveled paths in the woods. Barely visible to the naked eye, but once you find it and start walking on it, everything starts to feelā¦ right."
"Your chest gets really warm and you have this zappy feeling in your gut." His lips tip up in a faraway smile as his eyes follow the path his knuckle makes over your ear, your neck, your collarbones. "Everything feels possible when it's there. Lighter. And when it's gone? Anything you do feels wrong. Empty."
"Butā¦" You swallow past the heartbeat in your throat. "I thought you couldn't feel my emotions," you protest weakly.
A spark ignites in his eyes, electric enough to charge the air between you as his expression morphs into what you can only identify as a primal satisfaction. He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to memorize the scent of this moment, holding your gaze as his eyelids lower.
"I can't," he breathes, so close his nose brushes against yours when he shakes his head. "Those were all mine."
Your lips part, tongue hovering in wait between your teeth as his palm comes up under your chin, fingers settling on both sides of your jaw to draw you in. Your eyes shut as his lips descend over yours, and despite the warmth of his palm, the first brush of his tongue feel like being doused in flame. You wrap your arms around his neck on a moan, humming when he tilts your head to lick into your mouth again and again.
"Valko." The soft, fuzzy sensation of his buzzed hair grazes your knuckles and he sighs into your mouth, as if you're breathing life back into him with the sound of his name.
You take the chance to nip at his lip, holding it hostage between yours until he answers in kind. The sharpness of his teeth like bee stings on your mouth, soothed only by the sweet honey of a tongue that's licking, tasting, consuming the flushed skin between your lips and your throat.
His body sinks into yours, each of his muscles and contours taking shape around yours like heated metal, a weapon being forged for its master, its weight the heaviest thing you'll ever have to carry again.
ā»ā» MORE VALKO
NOTE: They can take my undomesticated wolf man from me in the game but he will live on as a terrible house guest in my delusions forever xoxo
iāve been having a stressful great time watching the world cup games lately so this is how I think theyād watch sports matches with you
valko: heās the classic hype guy. loves cheering at the tv, lotās of āletās go boys!ā, an abundance of random clapping, fists pumping in the air when no one on the teamās even done anything that impressive. youāve started sitting on the opposite side of the couch bc he canāt sit still and keeps jostling you with all that energy.. but you also donāt complain when you end up spun in the air as the team wins or with his head in your lap when they lose.
sylus: the gambling type. heās spending the game toggling his attention between the tv and his phone to place obscene amounts of money on the craziest bets and the most specific parlays (that somehow always win). He grins innocently when he goads you into betting against him and smirks devilishly when youāre cheering on your least favourite team bc youāve won.
caleb: is the superstitious fan to a crazy degree. His team once had a huge win while you hung out in the room with him when you were teens.. and youāve essentially been coaxed into watching every game with him since āfor good luck.ā He loves it when you get invested with him but definitely keeps and eye on the players youāre keeping an eye on so he can not-so-subtly mention unsavory facts about their personal lives.
zayne: all about the statistics. he might not even be fond of the sport but his sponge of a brain will be absorbing all the information about each player on your team until heās citing percentages and making critiques and calls. you love it when his face lights up each time his prediction comes true, and he loves seeing the impressed look on yours enough to watch again with you next time.
rafayel: Certified Trash Talkerā¢ in an unexpected way. Seems really uninterested in the whole thing at first, but less than 20 min into the game heās throwing out things like āeven fish have better footwork than that.ā Critiquing playersā movement and techniques. And no matter your positions at the start of the game, by the end of it youāre sitting contentedly in his lap as he murmurs in your ear and shows you the right way the athletes should be using their muscles.
xavier: all about the āintegrity of the gameā. Heās been around long enough to see the evolution of most of them and while heās super invested in the replays and VAR, he almost always disagrees with the ref/calls and thinks they should all be fired. Heās more than happy to ignore the frustration though if it gives him a few hours with you and his favourite snacks.
In light of recent events, seeing this loading screen today really stung...
It seems "Linkon is a very inclusive place" unless your name is Valko. Then you get run out of town just 8 days after your arrival is announced. To say I'm heartbroken is an understatement...
