farming shovel.

nsf t this is where i sin- i mean write sometimes . If your not 18+ get off here its illegal and your unwelcome .My shit and re blogs. 

[aethercoreheart]

lads men when you fart in front of them for the first time

🍑💨

(original post)

xavier

he immediately goes on his phone.

xavier, ew sorry, that was so gross–uh, what are you doing?

“i’m marking this day on my calendar. it’s going to be one of our anniversaries.”

??? oh my god, what??? i’m so embarrassed–wait, are you ordering a cake???

“we need to celebrate this joyous occasion properly. what flavor do you want?”

zayne

oh my god zayne i’m so sorry, that’s so embarrassing…

he just stares at you, then replies completely deadpan,

“i was wondering if your bowel movements were healthy. this is a good sign.”

of course they’re healthy, i just didn’t mean to… you know… in front of you…

he then starts showing you good food to eat to promote better farting while you continue to die of embarrassment.

rafayel

“that was such a cute little toot.”

rafayel, please–

“a tootie from my cutie patootie.”

are you seri–

“hang on, i’m thinking of a painting to commemorate this. ah yes. i’ll call it ’the passing wind’.”

sylus

you accidentally let one slip while he’s on the couch reading a newspaper. he lifts one buttcheek up, lets out a longer, louder fart while maintaining eye contact with you to assert dominance.

caleb

caleb, ignore that, pretend that didn’t happen–

he comes closer to you, bending down so he’s at waist level with you.

“do it again.”

what–

“you heard me, i said do it again. i didn’t get to smell it the first time.”

valko

you make eye contact with him and are about to apologize when he sniffs the air.

"beef... and onion."

huh?

"you had dumplings for lunch. beef and onion." he sniffs again. "doesn't smell familiar though."

i don't–

he shakes his head and frowns at you, disappointed. "did you seriously try that new place without me? you said we'd go there this weekend."

[ravenyibi]

[hissiznota]

[humanjarvis]

autopilot

when caleb suddenly video called you on his flight back from a no-contact mission, you should've known there'd be trouble.

thousands of feet in the sky, there he sits: trousers unzipped, legs spread, manhood on full display. cloaked in black leather, his right hand covers his straining length, pumping up and down with slow, indolent strokes. each movement sets his pale skin ablaze, and he can’t help but grunt at the friction.

slack-jawed, you give him a half-greeting, half-wheeze. he laughs at your dazed expression, confirming you aren’t in a dream right now. still, you aren’t quite over the shock.

making sure you have a full view, he tilts his head toward the camera, hissing when his gloved fingers squeeze around his base. “what do you think? you can tell me. is there anything you want me to change?”

change?

about his…?

your head spins, and your gaze drops against your will—not that it really has anywhere else to go. he’s long and thick, with healthy veins bulging from the stimulation. he knows he looks good, knows there’s nothing to change. there’s no way he doesn't. 

he’s flaunting himself. 

“just say the word,” he prods. his voice is serpentine. “pleasing you is my highest priority. anything you want, i’ll do it.” 

“n-no. it looks good.” the throb building in your core undermines your brain’s processing power. “you look good. there’s nothing to change.”

humming, he continues his lazy strokes, his bulbous tip reddening by the second. “you like it, then? i’m so glad. it’s all for you, you know. no one else.”

your mouth is so dry, it feels like swallowing sand. 

“what do you think it'll feel like?”

the question makes you freeze, sending a million little glitches sparking through your nerves. “um…good?” 

“‘good’ again, huh? is that all you can say? you know you can be more descriptive than that.” he twists his hand around his shaft and groans. “come on, try again. don’t go dumb on me. when i’m inside you, so deep you can't tell where you end and i begin…what do you think it’ll feel like?”

time stands still. does he really want you to answer? what should you even say? 

though your phone is perched in your lap, he still finds a way to look down at you. his top lip curls in the beginnings of a mean sneer, and his stormy eyes narrow expectantly. 

“big,” you whisper. it’s the first thing that comes to mind. “heavy. like i’ll have nowhere to go as long as you’re there.”

he moans his approval, and forewarnings of his release trail out in thin, translucent streams. “yeah? keep going. what else?”

you go to speak again, but a sudden pang shoots straight through your core, making you gasp. in the background, you hear his quiet chuckle. 

after a moment's recovery, you try again: “hot. really, really hot.” swallowing thickly, you squeeze your thighs together. “so hot inside me, i’ll try to pull back—to cool off—but you won’t let me. you’ll keep me there, and you’ll kiss me, and it’ll just get worse.”

he throws his head back with a breathy moan, colonel cap falling down the back of his pilot’s seat. gradually, his hand comes to a halt, but he hasn't truly finished yet. with the way his length stands proudly on the screen, straining and swollen from all of his teasing, that much is clear. 

as his eyes nail you in place through the camera, you get the foreboding feeling that he's saving his release for your reunion. 

“i’ll stop there for now. any more, and, well…things like this shouldn't go to waste.” he shifts in his seat, raising the phone to his flushed face. “i’ll be home in thirty minutes. make sure you're ready to get everything you asked for. your wish is my command.”

[lvl1l1]

If anyone else told you the big bad wolf Valko was a virgin, you would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he was, your Valko, hovering over you in his bed, ears twitching, tail thumping nervously against the mattress as he tried (and failed) to look collected.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, voice low and rough, one hand trembling slightly where it gripped your hip. His cock was heavy and flushed against your thigh, leaking steadily just from kissing and grinding. “We can stop anytime. I don’t… I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve never-“

You cupped his face, pulling him down into a slow, deep kiss until he melted against you with a soft rumble.

“I want this,” you whispered against his lips. “I want you. Right now.”

He made a broken sound and nodded, forehead pressed to yours as he lined himself up. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your entrance and your eyes widened.

Holy fuck.

You were just realising how big he was. Thicker and longer than you expected, the sheer size of him making your thighs tremble before he even pushed in.

Valko noticed your reaction immediately. “Too much?” he asked, voice tight with worry, ears flattening. “We can-“

“Don’t you dare stop,” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Just… go slow.”

He swallowed hard and pushed forward.

The stretch had your eyes fluttering shut. You gasped as he sank in inch by inch, moving slowly and carefully, his jaw clenched like he was fighting every instinct to thrust hard. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of your head, trembling.

“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice cracking. “So warm… all mine…”

He bottomed out with a soft, trembling whimper, buried to the hilt. For a moment he just stayed there, shaking, breathing hard against your neck.

“Am I… am I doing okay?” he asked shakily, clearly unsure. “Tell me if it hurts. Please.”

“You’re perfect,” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Move, Valko- please.”

He started moving. Slow, experimental thrusts at first, learning your body with every roll of his hips. But the second he found the angle that made you cry out and clench around him, instinct took over.

His pace picked up, moving with more vigor and intent, hips snapping forward with growing confidence even as he kept checking in.

“Like this?” he panted, voice wrecked. “Am I- ngh- doing good?”

You could barely understand the question. Your mind was spinning, body burning with pleasure as he fucked you so deep you felt him in your stomach. He was so thick, stretching you open so perfectly, and every thrust made you see stars.

“So good- fuck, Valko- don’t stop-“ you babbled, head thrown back, completely cockdrunk. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him like you never wanted him to leave.

Valko groaned, the sound raw and desperate. He didn’t expect it to feel this good. So tight. So warm. Gripping him like your pussy was made for him.

“Shit- you feel incredible,” he growled, hips losing rhythm as instinct completely took over. “So wet… so perfect for me…”

Then he felt it.

Something swelling at the base of his cock. His knot.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Wait- wait- I’ve never-“ He tried to pull back slightly but your legs locked tighter around him.

“Don’t- inside,” you gasped, so far gone you could barely think. “Please, Valko-“

He couldn’t hold back. With a broken moan he pushed deep and let it happen. His knot swelled, locking him inside you as he came hard, pulsing hot and thick, filling you up more than you thought possible.

The feeling of his knot stretching you, locking you together, sent you over the edge again with a cry of his name.

Valko collapsed on top of you, careful even in his haze, arms wrapping tight around your body as he shuddered through the aftershocks. His tail curled around your leg. His face stayed buried in your neck, breathing you in like you were oxygen.

“Was that… okay?” he mumbled shyly after a long moment, ears still slightly lowered even as his knot kept you tied together. “I didn’t expect… that. I’ve never… fuck, you felt too good. I couldn’t stop.”

You laughed breathlessly, fingers threading through his hair as you kissed the top of his head.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, still trembling around him. “My good boy.”

He huffed softly, but the way he nuzzled deeper into you, rumbling happily, said everything.

[sunsets-and-crows]

Okay I’m not going to lie, this gif had me thinking some things about Valko.

Smut headcanons under the cut.

Dom!Valko who loves to have you on top of him, his feet planted on the bed, hands firmly securing your waist to control your depth as he ruthlessly fucks up into you. He doesn't break a sweat, his stamina is unparalleled, having spent hours in the gym training to bring you pleasure.

Dom!Valko who loves to watch your tits bounce in time with his thrusts, tracking every single movement with a dark smirk and a sense of pride that goes far beyond just appreciation. He can't help leaving dark marks on your skin, bites and bruises proving his claim on you. The scent of his mouth all over your skin.

Dom!Valko who refuses to let you close your eyes, even when you want to screw them shut and throw your head back. He needs your total focus. "Nuh uh, puppy, eyes on me. Look at the man who's making you feel this good." He needs to see your eyes turn glassy, the way you struggle to focus as you get closer and closer to the edge.

Dom!Valko who deliberately slows down, his thrusts turning shallow to tease you, to make you beg for it. He sits up, chest coming to meet yours as his strong hands grip your waist, using his overwhelming strength to lift you up and down his length slowly. He lives for the way you whine and beg for him.

Dom!Valko who gives in eventually, pulling you down chest-to-chest as his feet plant themselves on the bed to give him leverage. His hips jackhammer wildly, his length hitting the deepest parts of you and dragging against every sensitive spot at the new angle.

Dom!Valko who smells the gush of wetness that escapes you as you hit your high with your mouths pressed together in an almost bruising kiss. He lives for the way your walls clench and pulse around him, like your pussy is trying to suck him deeper into you.

Dom!Valko whose length swells inside you before he cums, the base of his cock thickening as his knot swells. It catches, locking him in place as the tight grip of your pussy milks ropes and ropes of his cum into you. He growls the words "I love you" before his teeth find their home in his mark on the side of your neck. He means it, he loves you so much.

Dom!Valko who rolls you over afterwards to pull you flush against him. He can't retreat out of you, his knot keeping you locked in place as he buries his nose in your hair, your neck, or your chest. He can't help the way he breathes deeply, taking in the scent of his cum and sweat mixing with yours. It smells better on you than any perfume you own.

Sub!Valko who loves to be pinned beneath you, his hands resting uselessly on your thighs, gripping the sheets or tied to the headboard. He has no choice but to let you set the pace whilst he helplessly tries to rolls his hips up to meet yours. You scold him every time but he can't help it, you feel so good.

Sub!Valko who looks up at you through his lashes, completely undone by the sight of you using him, taking everything you want with greedy rolls of your hips. His chest heaves as he takes in how gorgeous you look, how perfect you are when you have total control.

Sub!Valko who can't tear his eyes from you, his gaze wide, watery, hazy with pleasure. When you demand he look at you, he whimpers, completely locked onto your face, entirely consumed by how you claim him.

Sub!Valko who tries so hard to be a good boy and let you take control when you want it, but he can't help how overwhelmed he gets. You rake your nails down his chest, red tracks blooming on his skin. It makes it even harder for him to listen, his brain dissolving in static.

Sub!Valko who completely loses his mind when you push him around, pulling him up by his wrists to change the angle or pushing his cheek against the sheets. He is entirely at your mercy as you drop down heavily, clenching and dragging against every sensitive spot he has. He can only arch his back and cry out, utterly consumed by the savage friction of you riding him down.

Sub!Valko who smells the divine sweetness of your gush of wetness escaping as you hit your high. He wants to taste it as it flows over his tongue. His mouth salivates, eyes locked on your parted lips. "Please, need it." You take pity on him, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He wastes no time, whimpering and licking desperately to take more of you into him. If you spit in his mouth, he'll cum.

Sub!Valko who wants to bite you but can't reach. You've pinned his arms above his head, giving him no other choice but to turn his head and clamp his teeth down on the meat of his bicep, whining and whimpering almost pathetically as he cums "N-uhhhh l-love l-love you so much," he whines, releasing his cum wherever you let him.

Sub!Valko whose whines turn to sobs as you ride him into overstimulation, chasing your own high. He could easily overpower you and release himself from your torment but it feels so good and you both know each other's limits. He trusts you.

Sub!Valko whose length swells inside you, his knot growing so quickly that it surprises him when it catches, locking him immovably inside your tight grip. Your fingers twist his nipples and he arches his back and slurs out his love for you again with a cry that makes you smirk. He's completely helpless as you clench your pussy, draining every drop he has.

Sub!Valko who lies completely limp beneath you afterwards, unable and unwilling to retreat from your warmth. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, trembling and laving his tongue wetly against the mating mark on your skin, the scent of his saliva on your skin, your sweat smeared on him, his cum and yours blending together into the sweetest of aromas.

Sub!Valko who needs you to stay close to him as he comes down from the post-sex high, he feels like he's floating as you press soft kisses to his cheeks, his eyes, his lips. Your hands roam his skin, soothing all tension from him with a fond smile. To him, you look like an angel, your eyes shining with satisfaction and your claim on him so thorough.

Dom! and Sub!Valko who will lose his mind if you call him your mate.

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | Valko is the king of bad timing (his confessions right)

minors dni.

It is no surprise that you are more coherent than Valko during sex.

For a man who could command an entire boardroom without breaking a sweat all the while making his shareholders comply to his whims, it was gratifying to see him be reduced to this whimpering mess.

It didn't matter if he was above you, thrusting into you so hard that the bed frame rattled, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud as he buried himself in so deep you could feel him in your throat. With just the right stimulation and the slightest tightening of your walls around his length, he would lose his composure, groaning into your shoulder, his cock pumping against you in a frenzied rhythm.

He would never make you beg. Pleasing you was his first priority. In every possible way. Even if it meant subjecting himself to your sweet, little torture.

Even in the delirious state he was in, with every muscle and bone in his body protesting, if you quietly told him to stop, all movements would cease. His entire body thrumming with tension, shaking above you as you finally catch a breath, wrapping a leg around his waist, your heel digging into his ass and pushing him deeper. Your moan is eclipsed by his groan, by the effort it is taking him to listen to you.

"Who's my good boy, hm?" Fingers tugging at his hair, you'd pull his head back as a whimper lodges in the back of his throat while you kiss your way down the side of his neck, his rock-hard cock throbbing inside your pussy.

He wouldn't make you beg. You would.

You've been edging him for what seems like hours now, you've cum twice in the process and everytime you've made him stop. Forced him to feel every contraction of your walls, feel the way they sucked him in as he hovered above you, whining into your skin in desperation.

Right now, he can't even find his voice to answer you as you pepper kisses on his skin, sucking your mark under his ear where he was most sensitive, overstimulated to the point of no return as his eyes roll to the back of his head. His cock is twitching, the thick vein running on the underside dragging against your gummy walls.

"Go ahead" You whisper, feeling the hair on his skin rise, his ears perking up at the husky command, getting ready to please you in whichever way you demanded of him "Say the magic words"

"I love you"

Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, his tail that had been wildly swishing behind him ever since you told him to stop suddenly goes limp at your reaction and his realization at the words that spilled past his lips. His eyes are wide like he can't believe he said it to you, here, dropping the bomb out of nowhere in the worst possible situation.

He goes to sit up, hands letting go of you only to flail about as he tries to explain his way out of it. This is not how he intended to confess his feelings. You deserved better. You deserved a proper confession after a proper date with flowers and gifts and-

Your arms lock around his neck before he can pull away from you completely, hauling his face down to yours till your noses brush against each other.

"Say it again" Your voice is a whisper, afraid any higher octave might shatter the spell.

"I love you" He repeats, no hesitation in his voice as his hands find their way back on your skin.

"You love me?" Your voice is disbelieving, laughter filled with self-pity escaping you "You" The word is emphasized "-love me?"

Wrapping his arms around your back, Valko lifts you into his arms and into his embrace, face finding its home in the crook of your neck to press a reassuring kiss to your skin "Yes. For the longest time" He pulls back to look at you, to show you his sincerity "I have been hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. God, I'm crazy about you"

"Val" You warn under your breath "Don't mess with me"

"I'm not-"

"Because I love you too"

Valko's restraint snaps, slamming into you so deep that your back arches, hips bucking up against his pulsating length as his release crashes over him and he takes you down with him. Thighs trembling, you feel thick spurts of his cum lining your walls till he's gushing out of your sensitive folds.

His entire body has you trapped beneath him, robbing you of air as he hides his face into the sheets, over your shoulder, his neck and ears red from embarrassment. It's only when you start giggling does he pull back, pouting at you.

"I love you, you silly doofus" You tell him, kissing his nose.

"I don't think you should be allowed to say that in bed" His face is burning, tail swishing behind him in elation.

"And you can?"

"Well" He's nuzzling against you again, entire body rubbing against yours "You're obviously better at handling it"

Only because he isn't. You had him wrapped around your finger and loved every second of it.

Years down the line, nothing changes. He's still just as eager to get you in bed even if he knows you're not going to make it easy for him.

"Are you gonna be good for me?" You're on his lap, cooing at him as he fights his natural instincts to take over and fuck you into next week while you grind your pussy down on him.

Whimpers escape him, conceding to you as you bite down on his nipple "Use your words, baby"

"Yes, yes. I will be so good" Fingers digging into your waist, he's resisting the urge to bounce you on his cock with the way you're dragging this out. He's going to try and use underhanded tricks to make you surrender first any second now.

When he sets his sights on you head on, you know it's coming "I love you" His hands are spanning the expanse of your back, waist and ass, digging into each cheek to prompt you to move, bounce, grind- do something, anything "Baby, please-"

"Always?" You circle your hips around his length, your pelvis grinding into him before you rise till he's almost completely out.

You're waiting on him to say the magic words that you so love, knowing he's about concede the way his half-lidded eyes flutter and his body goes taut, strung tight like a bow waiting to snap as his voice cracks when he pleads with you.

"Fuck yes- God, please. I bought a ring last week and booked a venue and I'll always, always be good to you so please just-" When you slam back down on him, his breath catches, voice barely carrying over toc you "-give me a chance to make you the happiest girl in the world"

And that's how you find out your silly wolf of a boyfriend was going to propose.

[poisonf0rest]

Big Bad Wolf!

♱⋅── valko x reader

♱⋅── about: valko gets turned on when you beat him in play fighting, especially when you get a little rough? Yes or yes?

♱⋅── wc: 3.2k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni. smut, breeding kink, scent kink, knotting, mate mentioned, dry humping, sub!valko, puppy coded valko, size difference, we love big subby men

One hundred forty-three rounds later, and you’ve finally won.

Every bulging, sweaty muscle strains as you laugh on top of Valko for the final lunge, pinning him by his throat and waist into the mats below.

“Haha, and that’s victory for me!”

He grumbles in response, pouting although you see the ghost of a smile curl against his lips. “Ya right. You tripped me, dirty little minx.”

You coo at his adorable sulking, “Big bad wolf can't handle a little bit of dirty play?” Pressing your forearm harder, you watch something dark flicker in Valko’s eyes as his breath stutters. “Don’t you know your enemies will be ready to exploit your every weakness?”

The room is filled with both of your ragged breathing, sweat dripping between your tanged bodies, undoubtedly soaking through your bra and shorts. The air sticks to you, hot and sticky.

Valko takes a deep inhale, chest rising under your palm, before going unnaturally still. The stillness of a predator ready to jump.

You tense, anticipating him to wrestle you off and begin the next match, and yet it never comes.

No. Instead, you’re met with the unmistakable feeling of something growing harder, larger, pushing up against your clothed ass.

The flush on your face is no longer just from exhaustion.

“Did you- are you—”

Valko’s whine cuts you off, his eyes screwed shut as if in horrible pain. “Don’t. Please.”

He’s trembling. Every hulking muscle under you straining as his enormous palms come up to cup your thighs, nails digging in.

“I just,” Valko lets out another whine, pitched and desperate, his amber eyes snapping open and begging up at you no better than a puppy would. “Ah shit, you’re so perfect. Fight perfect, smell perfect,” one broad hand goes to your ass, squeezing hard enough to pull a startled yelp from you, the sound shooting through him like another strike. “Feel perfect.”

Fuck.

Something about losing to you, about the ache blooming through his body where your blows had landed, the solid weight of you pinning him effortlessly into the worn training mats… perhaps it should have bruised his pride or made him fired up.

Instead, it leaves Valko fucking dizzy.

Your scent surrounds him, swallowed with every inhale Valko takes, intoxicating and cloying on his tongue as though he could taste you already. It’s sweet and a little spicy, like cardamom or amber, filling his brain with static as his every instinct narrows down on you and your body. To lay claim. To take.

He doesn't mean to keep nuzzling into your sweat-slicked body. One breath isn't enough, then another isn't either, every deeper pull filling his head with a pleasant, humming need that leaves less and less room for coherent thought.

Acceptance.

Need.

Mate.

Despite your full weight still pinning him to the floor, Valko's hips buck sharply up into yours, nearly throwing you off him. But his hand tightens against your ass, forcing you down into the movement at the exact same time he grinds his still-growing erection right up into your clothed pussy.

You both moan at the mere contact.

More. He needs more.

His hips don’t stop moving, pushing up into you with quick little rabbit thrusts, Valko’s head thrown back in a deep, unashamed moan as he chases the friction. His jaw opens, nearly drooling, about to manhandle you into a better position to grind against when you lean back down.

And slap him right across the face.

Immediately, he freezes, blinking and shaking away the shock and arousal from his face. His cock jumps from between your thighs, though, and that’s all the confirmation you need as Valko looks back up at you with wide eyes.

“Behave, puppy.”

You place your hand around his neck, grinding your hips backward as you watch Valko’s eyes roll back.

“I won,” you remind him. “That means you listen to me.”

He nods with so much enthusiasm you almost worry about his neck.

“Yeah, yes. Of course. I can take it, please.” Anything, anything for you to keep touching him.

Your hips are flush against his, grinding up and down just like you would be if you were riding him. The thought alone has Valko moaning louder, completely uncaring if anyone heard, voice hoarse as you squeeze his throat tighter.

It’s teasing both of you to insanity, so close and not nearly close enough. Friction hot and pressing right up against your clit, but doing nothing to ease the growing ache between your thighs. It doesn't help that the outline of his dick is enough to grind on, wide enough to part your lips and feel strain against your clothed pussy. Fuck, imagining all that power, that size stretching inside you…

You’re no better than animals in heat, gasping and panting as your hips never stop moving, spine arching as his tip catches your clit. “Ahhh, good job, baby, making me feel so good. Good boy.”

Valko keens at the praise. “Thank you, thank you. I’m your good boy, I’ll be such a good boy.”

He’s drooling as he writhes beneath you, nails clawing into the floor with the restraint it takes not to flip you over and rip your shorts off before fucking until both of you pass out. Bite and mark you as his. Fill you with his seed until he’s shooting blanks, watch you drip with his cum, push his knot inside you and cum again and again and again—

You laugh. Poor thing doesn’t even realize he’s moaning all of this out loud.

“Shhh, I’ll let you, puppy.” Leaning down, you kiss him just to shut him up, licking into his open mouth. “I’ll let you breed me.”

“Fuuuck yes.”

Valko’s tongue shoves into your mouth, hot, invasive, lapping into the kiss. You let him, kissing with teeth and tongue, spit spilling down the side of his mouth as he takes more and more. He bullies himself closer, greedy for every scrap of attention, chasing each inch you’re willing to give and always reaching for one more.

“I’m sorry, feels so good, too good.” Valko groans, every thrust becoming more sloppy, and you can tell from how sloppy his kisses are and the unevenness of his thrusts that he’s already close.

You click your tongue as though reprimanding a spoiled pet before breaking the kiss, hand tightening around his throat.

Valko breaks away instantly with a sharp gasp, chest heaving. His eyes snap to yours, dazed and teary, as though being stopped is its own reward. “Sorry, m’sorry. Please keep kissing me, please, I’m sorry.” Another whimper. “You said you’d help me, ya? P-please baby, let me cum.”

“And let you stain my favorite gym shorts with your cum? I don’t think so, puppy,” you scold, teasing your fingers up his rough undercut.

His breath catches so abruptly his whole body gives a tiny, involuntary jolt, shoulders loosening beneath your hand as a slow shiver rolls down his spine at the mere touch. If his ears were manifested, they would be pulled back, his body chasing the sensation before his mind could catch up, leaning instinctively into your palm like some half-domesticated thing desperate for another touch.

Every instinct urges him to reclaim your mouth, to grind back into your clothed pussy, but he forces himself still. Because that’s what you’ve taught him to do.

What a good boy.

Lifting your hips, Valko sobs at the loss of your heat. Your free hand reaches down instead, shucking down his sweat-drenched shorts and boxers in one tug, his cock bouncing out from its confines.

It springs against Valko’s abdomen with a wet slap, every bulging, veiny inch a sensitive pink, tip swollen and leaking all over his pretty red happy trail.

Valko whines, bucking into the air, “Please-ohhh-please let me in you. I’ll make you feel s’good, I’ll be so good. Ah fuck, come on.”

Something, anything to release this unbearable pressure swelling up at the base of his dick.

So you slap him again, and this time the second the crack echoes across the room so does his moan. A fresh spurt of pre-cum stains his abs, so much leaking and spilling down his stomach, you’re damn near concerned.

“Shh, don’t be too loud, someone might hear how desperate you are, baby.” You kiss his forehead and strip.

First you peel off the sports bra, then kick down your shorts and panties, smiling at Valko’s star-struck expression before dropping back down completely bare onto his muscular thighs.

“Come here, puppy.”

He obeys immediately, sitting up faster than humanly possible and ramming his lips onto yours, hands fighting to cup your breasts before he thinks better of it and curls them against his sides into trembling fists.

You hum into the kiss, guiding his hands up to your skin, “Go on, you can touch me.”

Two massive arms engulf you. Valko’s already nuzzling into your bare chest, mouthing at the lines of sweat collected from your sports bra, hot tongue dragging against every inch of skin. There’s no rhythm, no logic, just sloppy licking between your breasts before sucking at your nipples, around and up until he’s at your collarbone, every sensation so overwhelming that you feel yourself soaking his thigh.

“M’sorry, can’t stop. Taste so sweet…” Valko’s licking another long strip up your neck before finding a spot that makes you whine, nipping and teething at it while his hands come up to pinch and roll your swollen nipples. You moan at the feeling of it all, hips rolling against his quads as he purposefully tenses the ridges of muscle underneath you, letting you grind against him.

Once again, the two of you are humping each other like dogs, except this time there’s no more clothing to get in the way.

Your bare cunt envelopes his throbbing cock, every movement heightened by loud, wet sounds of the two sliding together, pseudo fucking in a way that drives both of you insane. The taste and smell of you is overwhelming, Valko dipping his head to suck at your nipple while bucking up into you, abs flexing, drenched with sweat and your combined slick as his cock drags past your clit, pressing desperately right up against your cunt before slipping to your ass and coming right back again.

His frustration is becoming obvious. Low growls muffled into your chest as grinding turns to proper thrusting, tip ramming at your entrance just too thick to push in and your thighs too slippery to find purchase.

“Shit! it’s not– not fitting. Please, let me in.” He’s begging, drooling against your chest. ”Please sweetheart, please doll.”

You want it just as badly. So you tug on his hair, pulling Valko on top of you as you lie down, and slowly turning yourself around until your chest is pressed into the training mats beneath you.

Valko’s frozen like a predator just narrowed in on a prey.

Except that prey is you. Your teasing smile lured him in, and your bare, dripping cunt presented to him like heaven mere inches from his drooling face.

Arching your back deeper, you smile as you finally give him what he’s been dying for. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, Valko, ya? Wanna knot me?”

He’s barely breathing, golden eyes glowing slightly as they lock with yours, unblinking. “Yes.”

Then, he pounces.

In a blink, his six-foot-something body slams into yours, shoving your face into the floor, one arm effortlessly forcing your ass higher to meet his hips and the other pinning your back into a deep arch to accommodate the weight of his chest now pressed against your spine.

Completely mounted, your muscles scream from the stretch and pressure his body gives, his heavy cock still leaking violently from between your spread thighs, thrusting between them, a puddle of his pre-cum splattering down between you.

You laugh into the mats, right where you want to be as you goad him into taking all that he wants and more. “Go on then, puppy. Claim me, take me, make me yours—!”

You can’t even finish your teasing before Valko bullies himself inside you with one violent thrust. Hands dig grooves into your thighs, pawing at your ass, stomach, chest, all while pulling you backward into every powerful thrust.

Valko’s head drops with another unashamed moan, tongue lolling out to lick at your nape and spine, drooling with every tight flutter your walls squeeze around him. God, you’re gushing. He’s glued to the mess where your bodies meet, your ass bouncing with each thrust, taking him so perfectly he’s losing his mind.

“Ohhh you feel so good.” Pressing deeper, his hand snakes around to press against your lower stomach, feeling the outline of his dick as you scream into the floor. Valko groans, babbling into your ear as his hips snap faster. “I know pretty thing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He’s repeating it against your neck between licks and nibbles, still not letting up any of his force. You feel something unmistakable swell against the curves of your ass, knocking against your cunt and thick enough to hit your clit too, each slap making you sob from pleasure-pain.

“Gonna f-fuck my little mate full of my cum, then eat you out, then fuck you again—oh fuck. Love you and this perfect pussy,” Valko’s slurring his words, talkative as ever and loud enough for the entire training facility to hear him moan.

His thrusts turn deeper, unable to part with your heat, his knot grinding furiously against your clit as you feel your body begin to tremble. “She’s takin me so well, so tight. Mhmm I’ll fill her well, give her everything she wants, fuck her full-full of my knot.”

God, he needs to shut up or you’re going to cum.

“Shh,” you hush him before breaking into a moan. “Too loud, Valko. Someone could—ahh fuck—hear you!”

Oh, but he can’t! He can’t, not when he finally feels your pussy begin to cream around him with your impending orgasm, almost wet enough to take all of him and his knot! This is what you want too don’t you see? This is what his pretty little mate needs.

Valko can’t even comprehend what he’s saying anymore, just growling and moaning into your neck as he drops his arms to properly rub at your clit and tug at your sensitive nipples, biting down into the junction of your shoulder and neck as you squirt all over his thighs with a pitched scream.

“Good pup, good mate, keep cumming for me.” Valko licks at the pin-pricks of blood blooming from his bite, going right back to babbling into your ears as his thrusts turn rougher. “Ready to take me, have my knot, my cum, oooh youfeelsogood.”

In a last attempt to muffle your boyfriend's horny sobs, you squirm beneath him to grab your gym shorts and stuff Valko’s mouth with them, gagging him with the sweat-stained spandex. And he simply takes it, open mouth drooling all over your clothes as he gets drunk off the scent of your sweat and arousal stained into them.

You both gasp at the feeling of his knot finally pressing into your entrance, the swollen, heavy weight of it forcing you several more inches open before slipping back out. Again, and again.

Instinctively, you run away, like a bunny cornered by a wolf, writhing underneath him as Valko snarls, hands engulfing your hips entirely as he drags you back onto his cock, forcing you still with so little effort it's laughable. Nothing stops him from pressing in deeper and deeper, your poor cunt finally yielding to his knot, the burn making you drool into the floor as Valko moans into your makeshift gag.

It’s forever and only seconds, your orgasm-sensitive pussy drooling enough to help him slide in fully, greedily sucking up every extra inch he gives you until you both feel the pop! of his knot finally catching inside you. It presses every damn inch inside you so perfectly you cum again, wailing and trembling as your thighs begin to go limp.

No matter, Valko just holds you up anyway. It’s not like he could pull out of you now, even if he wanted to. Not until he filled you with his cum, at least.

You’re still shaking from the prolonged orgasm, and Valko lets the rest of your body fall to the floor, following you down until his body is smushed atop yours, pressing you both into a mean prone bone.

It just makes him feel bigger. Your head is spinning with all the sudden pressure, his fat tip kissing your cervix as he rocks back and forth, his knot still grinding into that squishy spot against your walls, the heat and weight of his chest pressing into your back, and of course, his muffled moans and rambles still going strong even through your panties.

“Cum, Valko.” You’re barely thinking straight either, already right at the edge again as Valko’s thrusts turn sloppy, his body shaking. “Fill me up, b-breed me. Become mine.”

He’s cumming.

Valko whimpers into your neck as his hips snap one last time into yours, grinding as you feel the warm gush of his release spurt violently inside you, filling and filling and filling you up. So much, too much. Too much that cum squirts out from even the tight plug of his knot, dripping down both of your thighs even as Valko whines at the waste.

He doesn’t seem to fully realize he’s done, still rolling his hips into yours, each one powerful enough to drag your bodies tangled along the floor.

“Nooo, Valko,” you whine, trapped under his weight and still inflated with his knot. “Valko, stop, sensitive! Too sensitive.”

Your hands helplessly shove and push backward at the enormous man lying on top of you, not even budging him as he continues to nuzzle himself into your sweat-slicked back.

Finally, you manage to yank your clothes out from his mouth, releasing him from the gag as he simply sighs in pleasure, licking and nipping at your ear before dragging his tongue in a long, messy line down your neck.

“You’re so heavy. Get. Off!” Each word is a shove, but Valko only laughs at the effort. He does take mercy on your poor abused body though, and grabbing your waist with one hand, rolls the two of you over. You now rest on his plush chest instead, both of you heaving as you lie still pumped full of his knot and cum.

“M’sorry, guest instinct just took over there, y’know? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“...You rabid dog.”

“Hehe, woof.”

[aphydiite]

𑣲 utterly adored. ┊ valko.

#bringbackvalko ⠀•⠀ Minors DNI !⠀•⠀Reblogs appreciated ! ──⠀ cw. this was not supposed to end up a grinding and val cumming in his pants thing but i wrote this while drinking so (shrugs). no prns / body used for reader. sub leaning and good boy valko <3 srry gang i don't have much experience writing frottage/dry humping fics but the coochie had a vision and who am i to oppose

ok thats enough of being drunk and depressed 🚬🚬🚬 time to get off my ass, bc they are NOT taking this dog from me

⠀ ⠀"What are you—? Haah—"

 ⠀⠀ He's cute. He is so, so cute. Your big, sweet wolf practically melting under your hands and your kisses and the downwards grind of your hips— how are you not supposed to adore him? Your fingers run across his chest and his shoulders greedily, reveling in the heat under your fingertips. His soft whines fill the air, only contested by the loud thump thump thump of his tail smacking eagerly against the carpet.

 ⠀⠀ "I'm not complaining," Valko starts above you, breath already labored and a ruddy blush across his face. He looks good enough to eat. "But where is this coming from? I thought I was supposed to be the animal here."

 ⠀⠀ You hum, giving the junction of his shoulder and neck one last nip, teasingly grinding down on the prominent tent of his sweats. "No reason," you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, then to his nose, then between his brows above the frame of his illegally cute glasses. "You're just cute, is all. Problem?"

 ⠀⠀ "No, but if you keep this up, I'm not gonna— fuck—"

 ⠀⠀ Valko cuts himself off with another whine as your hips begin to pick up movement again, the heat between your legs grinding deliberately against his hardening cock. His aborted thrusts try to meet you, instinctive and increasingly desperate as he tries to chase the friction. It's enough to make you grin.

 ⠀⠀ "Just let go, baby. " Your lips meet his in a kiss. He deepens it in an instant, tongue licking your lips as he whines into your mouth. The sound grows as you grind him with more force, gasping into the kiss yourself.

 ⠀⠀ Big, warm hands find your hips— neither guiding nor pulling, but holding on. His trembling grip only makes you more eager to please.

 ⠀⠀ It's not long before you bring your attention back to Valko's neck, planting a myriad of kisses and dark marks there. The kisses are stark against his skin, darkening into marks that you know will climb above the collar of his tailored suit tomorrow. The thought of it— this tall, imposing man walking into the building of his company sporting your marks and your scent makes heat pool in your belly.

 ⠀⠀ Is this what goes through his head when he scents you? Maybe he’s rubbed off on you more than you thought.

 ⠀⠀ "You're so cute." it just slips out of you— a murmur dripping with adoration.

 ⠀⠀ Valko whines even louder when a hand goes to the crown of his head, scratching at the base of those soft fluffy wolf ears. The wag of his tail grows strong enough that it's practically whipping up a storm. His hips are grinding right back against you, the stain of his precum growing on the front of his sweat— his cock is achingly hard under the fabric, twitching each time you rub yourself against him.

 ⠀⠀ He's so damn warm underneath you, desperate and whining as he chases the pleasure of the friction, driven by his baser instincts. But he's being so good too— his hands hadn't once tugged or pulled you, letting you set the pace as you'd like.

 ⠀⠀ What a good puppy.

 ⠀⠀ The poor wolf's eyes are practically molten gold when you meet his gaze— swimming with desire and drunk on the pleasure of your scent, the pleasure of your body pressed up against his.

 ⠀⠀ "What a good boy," you coo, delighting in the way he gasps your name. "D'you wanna cum, baby?"

 ⠀⠀ "Please," he whines, and you can feel his cock twitch even through the ruined fabric. It must be so hard now— blushing red at the head, thick and heavy, practically dripping with precum. Pert of you wishes you could see it, could taste it. He's always tasted so good.

 ⠀⠀ "Go on then, puppy," you purr. “You can cum.”

 ⠀⠀ With the hand still in his hair, you guide Valko's face to bury in your neck— he needs little encouragement, all but shoving his nose against your pulse in a hearbeat, drinking in your scent like a man starved. Immediately, the pace of his thrusts pick up and his hands tighten on you as his restraint finally begins to crack in the face of his looming orgasm. The sound of fabric brushing against fabric is loud— but still drowned out by his breathless pants.

 ⠀⠀ You can't fight back the grin as he laps at your neck, sweet even as he coaxes your scent forward. Cute, cute, cute.

 ⠀⠀ Emboldened, he begins to guide your hips with his hands, using his strength to pull you back into each desperate grind of his hips. Each movement makes him whine into your neck, makes him twitch underneath you, his fingers tightening and then loosening.

 ⠀⠀ It doesn't take long before he's tensing beneath you, teeth finding the curve of your shoulder on instinct as a low, rough groan leaves him, his hips giving small jerks as he rides out his high. Valko's tail tenses for a moment before going right back to wagging— a bit slower now, tired, but delighted nonetheless.

 ⠀⠀ He's whining a little into your skin, licking where he had bitten as if in apology. Valko's grip keeps you seated on his lap and the wetness of his cum staining his sweats— unapologetic and warm.

 ⠀⠀ Even after all that, you can feel that his cock is still half-hard, still eager for anything else you wanted to give him. Still twitching with each deep breath he takes of your scent.

 ⠀⠀ "Good boy, Valko," you murmur into his soft hair, and the sound that escapes him just makes you want to ruin him again.

[myntrose]

pavlov's dog

synopsis : it's not like you purposely meant to condition your sweet werewolf boy to come on command. but hey, he's gotta prove that he's got plenty of energy stored up, right? cw : unapologetically horny, breeding, oral, tummy bulge, mating press, doggy, overstim, spanking, knotting, not proof read, etc a/n : day five of coping. enjoy some shameless smut with our woflie 💚

"o-one more, you can take one more for me, right angel?" he growls from the crook of your neck. he's got your legs thrown over his shoulders, chest pressed against yours, and if you were coherent enough you would've realized that at some point in the last 10 minutes, he slid a pillow underneath your hips, making every thrust of his cock hit in that spot that makes your thighs tremble.

valko usually has good patience. he can take the teasing, the light touches on the base of his ears, the way your hands linger a bit too long when you pet his tail. even during those heated moments, he'd much rather spend hours buried between your thighs, lapping and slurping up the slick that he swears his life on.

and it would've rolled out just like that, when just a few hours ago when you were settled in his lap. it was innocent enough- at least, as much as it can be when he's got his hands on you hips, grinding you against him while he alternates between kissing you breathless and biting the spot under under your collar. his tail curls around your waist, and it's almost instinctual the way the words smoothly come out from you lips, whispered and breathy.

"g-good boy..."

his grip on you tightens, and you watch the way his eyes blow up completely. valko's entire body shudders, before he buries his head down onto you.

"V-val?! what's wrong, are you-"

"stop talking, angel,"

"are you okay? do you need me to move-"

valko's arms wrap around you, a silent stay put. he's still shaking, and as you try to shift on him, you feel it. or rather, feel the way he just came undone.

"did you just-"

"no,"

it hits you like an absolute truck. the shock in your face slowly morphs into something akin to mischief. you gently pull valko's face up, making him look you in the eyes. his head tilts in that adorable, embarrassed puppy way, and you almost feel bad for what you're about to test out.

almost.

your smile is deceptively sweet, hands cradling his face while your lips ghost his own.

"good boy,"

the reaction is instantaneous. valko's eyes shut close, his tail just about wraps around you fully, and his hips rut upward as he comes undone, once again, to those two words alone.

and gods forbid you let out a soft laugh. not to shame him, but at the realization you've discovered. you should've realized it sooner, really. anytime valko does anything you've deemed deserve the phrase- his reaching something on the top shelf "aww, good boy, thank you valko!", when he sits still while you brush out the knots in his ears "good boy, I know I know just one more tangle", or when he's made you come on his face for the nth time "nghh, good boy, thank you-!".

the way his teeth graze your neck brings you back, and you're suddenly very aware on how he's flipped you over. you're rolled onto your stomach, hips lifted up and back deliciously arched. he's got you on his hands and knees.

his hand runs from the low of your back, tracing up your spine before trailing up into your hair. his grip is just firm enough where you help out a soft moan at the sensation.

his cock lines up at your entrance, warm and waiting. he's cooing, voice crazed and utterly depraved for you.

"shh, it's okay, baby. just one more for me, yeah?" you nod feverishly, body trembling with anticipation, hips trying to chase after him. the growl he lets out is nothing short of animalistic, before he pushes in with one smooth, devastating thrust.

with how he's got you, the stretch is somehow deeper and fuller and somehow got you wanting more. valko bottoms out, hand big and heavy on your ass before landing a nasty smack!

"look at you," he breaths out. you feel him lean forward, his chest- sculpted and defined- flushed against your back. the way he kisses your shoulder blades are such a gentle contrast to the way he's filling you up, deeper fuller than you've ever been.

his hand depends down, wrapping around you before settling on your stomach, right over where...

"you feel that?" your mind is all buzzed with him, so when he lands another slap in the same spot that's already red with his hand print, is when you process just what he's talking about.

valko can feel the cogs turning, and he pulls back just an inch before thrusting back in. his hand is still pressed against your stomach, his breath hot against your neck.

"that's right, that's me. so fucking deep inside you." he pulls all the way back, slow and excruciating, before thrusting back in- impossibly harder this time, a sharp snap of his hips that makes you gasp out.

"fuck-! that's it, taking me so well, angel. look at you, 's like you were made for me," his pace starts slow, each thrust a deliberate drag that makes you cry out. he's not doing any better on top of you, his ears flat against his skull, muscles flexed and straining out.

"you feel that?" his voice shudder out as he presses his hand down, "that's me. inside you. fucking you. claiming you." his movements speed up, his thrusts less and less precise as he chases both your highs.

"tell me- please, tell me I'm doing good," he lifts your hips higher, pulling his cock all the way out before pushing in to make sure you feel all of him, "please, angel-!"oh, and how could you deny the request of your wolf?

"g-good boy!"

a full body tremor shocks through him, his grip on you so tight that it's hard to tell where he starts and you end. A raw and broken sound tears from his throat.

"f-fuck, angel-!"

his hips drive forward, desperate and devastating as his release crashes through him. you feel him pulse inside you, the way your body surrenders to the pleasure. it's the way that you can feel him falling apart, just from you, that causes your own walls to clench around him, your moans swallowed by his pillows underneath you.

valko falls forward, catching himself before flipping you over. he's cradling you against his chest, voice raspy and hushed as he kisses your forehead. you feel it- his knot swelling up, locking you two together into a slick, exhasted mess.

his hand gently lifts your chin, and he finds your lips. he kisses you like he has no time to waste.

"thank you," he murmurs, soft and genuine. he pulls you close, getting you comfortable. it's be a while before his knot swells down, but right now, all that exists is the way his heart beats in sync to yours.

i will never stop writing for him. wait for me, my wolf.

[messymew]

Calling him a good boy (Valko)

18+ mdni

I got a request for a subby Valko and I went feral just at the thought because that man is a SUB TOP and no one can tell me otherwise. This ain't even a headcanon it's just the truth.

pairing: sub!Valko x reader

tags/cw: subby top valko, grinding (m), leg humping (m), praise, knotting mentioned, cumming in pants (m), et names, Valko calls reader "miss" and "pup", pathetic loser valko lowkey

an: this is lowkey ass idk why my writing has declined so much </3 it's the stress + this was written at 4am bear with me. I was gonna scrap this but maybe yall will like it

wc: 1.3k~ not proofread if you see a typo no you don't

Valko has very big eyes. Not in the creepy kind of way, but in the puppy kind of way. And it's like they get even bigger when he's around you. The way he stares at you at any given time is adorable. You could be in the middle of a deep conversation and he'll go silent, looking at you with those perfectly cute puppy dog eyes. It's unfair for anything as huge as he is to look so…small.

He acts like a puppy despite his size, coming to you when he's hurt (even if it's just a small scratch), and even taunting you to play with him and give him attention at times. Despite his playful tendencies, Valko always takes the more dominant role between the two of you, always calling you “pup” and taking care of serious matters. He keeps up the strong and brooding front quite well, but it's undeniable that he's completely hooked on you.

Anyone else that knows him wouldn't be caught dead believing the scene playing out now. This big, hunky, fearsome “monster” is currently lying in your lap while you pet his hair. His tail wags languidly side to side, thumping against the back of the couch where his huge body is folded against yours. He had insisted on sharing the couch with you despite your warning that there would never be enough room for that. Naturally, he didn't care at all and he did it anyway.

Normally, you would complain about his weight or heat, but he seemed particularly clingy tonight. You didn't want to put a damper on things, so you dealt with the slight discomfort until it faded. His heavy frame on top of you was actually sort of nice, like a weighted blanket. He shifts slightly closer, glancing up at you to inadvertently see if you're really uncomfortable. One of his bulky thighs was over yours. He had secretly moved closer just to be a bit closer to where he could smell you better. He'd move if you asked him to, but you would never do that.

“Sweet…”

His voice was barely a whisper as you felt his nose twitch against your neck, inhaling your scent with deep breaths. Your hand scratches the back of his head and he nuzzles deeper into your embrace. His tail starts to wag faster, and you had no idea that wolves could purr until now. At least that's what it sounded like; a warm sound rumbling from his chest that's not quite a growl. You've found his sweet spot. You move your hand behind his fluffy ear and scratch there next, earning you a low whine from him.

You can't help but chuckle softly at his reaction, not because you find it funny or embarrassing, but because you find it ironic that something so large and imposing can be reduced to this just from a few scratches.

“So you like this spot.” You observe, thinking out loud. Your eyes soften as you look down at him.

“You're such a good boy.” the words slip out before you can even think about them fully.

Valko's ears perk up immediately and his head snaps up to look at your face directly. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted to reveal his cute little fangs. You look surprised at your own words, but you wouldn't dare take them back. They were true after all.

“A… what?” His voice is soft despite the deepness. He has to make sure he heard that correctly. He also really wants to hear it again.

“a good boy.” You repeat yourself, looking into those big eyes “you're a good boy, Valko.”

You feel his body tense against yours with a mixture of excitement and something else. Valko's mouth suddenly feels dry, and his wagging has kicked into overdrive. That's when you feel a hard, thick ridge pressing against your leg. You shift slightly and he growls softly, tightening his grip on you to stop you from moving anymore.

“Shit… don't move. Just—” He rasps out, suddenly avoiding eye contact. His tail still hasn't stopped wagging and you can see his face getting redder by the second, chest heaving against yours.

Your hand cups the side of his face before you can even give it permission, your thumb rubbing over his heated cheek. He nuzzles against your affection, inhaling your scent once more from your palm and wrist. His hips roll slightly against your leg. He can't help it. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I'm sorry… I don't…” he's at a loss for words.

This is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him and you'll be damned if you don't use it to your advantage. You want him to be vulnerable around you. To feel safe with you. To feel loved. “Shh… it's okay.” Your voice is warm, calming despite the heat you feel pooling between your own legs. “Tell me what you want.”

His Adam's apple bobs visibly at your prompt. What does he want? So many things. He wants you. Any and every part of you. His tail continues wagging even as he hesitates. “Just…” his hips roll against your leg more firmly, more purposefully. “Like this. Please, miss.” the title spills from his lips before he can stop it. If you weren't wet already, you sure are now. You cradle his head as his hips continue rocking, slow at first but gradually getting more desperate.

“Good boy… that wasn't so hard, was it?”

All he can do is whine again, high pitched and needy. His hips continue bucking at an almost frantic pace, making you coo as you pet his ears which are now pinned flat to his head. You shift your leg slightly to press harder against Valko's thick, throbbing cock, making him groan.

He's gotten even bigger now, leaking so much precum that it's starting to seep through his sweatpants. He bites back a growl as he grinds harder, claws digging into the pliant upholstery of the couch as tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he struggles against his self restraint.

“Who's a good boy?”

Another quiet whine. You smirk, running your thumb over his bottom lip and pulling it down slightly to reveal his lower canines. He instinctively opens his mouth full to lick your finger gently, fangs grazing the soft skin.

“Me, miss” he manages, his tone a mix of a question and a statement

You press your thumb against his wet tongue, making his tail wag even faster at the extra attention.

His voice comes out slightly muffled by your finger- “Pup— miss, feels so good…gonna fill you up. Take it.. please.” He's lost in his own little world, completely enveloped by the feel and scent of you.

He can feel his knot start to bulge at the base of his already girthy cock “Nngh fuck, gonna squeeze it in, pup. You'll take it so good, yeah? All the way… shit— Miss—”

He buries his face deep in the crook of your neck as his thighs tremble with his well earned release. His hips continue rutting against your thigh despite his sensitivity, making him beg and whine as if he can't control his own body.

When his high finally comes to an end, he's a panting wreck on top of you, practically drooling against your skin as he barely catches his breath. His full weight is on top of you now, both of your pants wet and sticky from his hot cum.

It's a few minutes before he manages to sit up slightly and shake his head in a useless attempt to clear it. You're still pinned beneath him, his heavy hips now resting between your legs. Your eyes widen as you look down. He's already hard again, his red, leaky tip peeking out from beneath his sweatpants and boxers that had naturally shifted from the friction.

Your eyes trace a path back up to Valko's face again. His tail twitches hopefully behind him as his ears flatten again.

“Miss… please...” He knows you can't resist. He's playing dumb. And those damn eyes...

This night was far from over.

This was written by request!🐺 © All written work is made by @messymew. Do not copy, translate, steal, or feed AI with my work.

[calebsfavoriteusedthong]

When you find him humping a pillow. (VALKO)

Part 1 with the other 5 and the art that inspired this.

🔞CW: Dry humping. Dirty talk. Self love. Smut.🔞

Infold, give us our wolf back! Please!

A special thanks to @stardustsirens, I love your beautiful brain 😚

Twenty minutes. You'd been gone twenty minutes before you turned around, halfway to work, because your work folder was still sitting on the kitchen counter.

Valko had stayed the night, though not the way anyone would assume. You'd cooked too late, ended up on the couch watching movies until midnight and the idea of him driving home just to come back in a few hours was ridiculous. So he'd stayed. Folded that huge body of his onto your couch—which was built for exactly one normal sized human—insisting he was fine even though you both knew his neck would hate him for it in the morning. He hadn't so much as brought up sharing your bed. That line was still there between you, respected without either of you having to say so out loud.

Your living room was empty now. The throw blanket sat balled up at one end of the couch, still warm, still carrying that earthy scent that clung to him. You figured he'd finally given up trying to get comfortable and left for home.

Things had been tight between you two for weeks — not bad tight, just like the kind that builds when you're close to someone in every way but one. Curling up next to him on that couch last night, close enough to feel him breathing, had taken more out of you than you wanted to admit. You'd gone to your own bed after and tossed for hours, finally giving up and finishing yourself off against your pillow just to get some sleep.

You grabbed the folder off the counter, shoved it in your bag, turned toward the door already dreading the way back to work.

Your foot stopped.

Through the crack in your bedroom door came a sound — low, cut off at the edges like it hadn't meant to get out. A hitch of breath, rough with something needy.

You don't move. For a few long seconds you just stand there, blood rushing in your ears, telling yourself you imagined it. Then it comes again—louder, unmistakable. A deep, broken whine bleeding through the door, underneath it the slow, rhythmic creak of your mattress.

Something hot drops straight to your navel.

Your feet move before you decide to let them, carrying you to the gap where the door hinges open. You don't need to push it. You can see everything

Valko is on your bed, completely stripped of the restraint he usually carries around you.

On all fours, every muscle in his back straining with each roll of his hips. Both your pillows are underneath him. One is pinned between his thick, heavy thighs. The other is crushed against his chest like he's holding onto it for dear life.

The fat tip of his cock is already leaking clear precum, smearing wetly against the fabric with every thrust. The muscles of his ass bunch and flex rhythmically, his tail swishing low and frantic from side to side, brushing against his calves like he can't control it.

His nose is buried deep into one specific corner of the pillow, taking big lunges of air—sniffing the hell out of it. Strands of saliva string from his parted lips, his eyes are squeezed shut so tight his eyelashes tremble. He looks like he's desperately trying to engrave that scent into the deepest part of his memory.

The heat that floods your face is scorching and mortifying.

That's where you'd been last night. Grinding against that exact spot, face buried in your own sheets with his name stuck in your throat, thinking thoughts you'd never planned on anyone knowing about. He has his nose pressed right there. Breathing you in like it's the first clean air he's found in days.

The hallway feels like it's closing in. You can't move. The folder is shaking in your hand and you can't make yourself look away.

Valko moves his hips down again and the groan that tears out of him is nothing like his usual voice. It's scraped raw, stripped of every careful thing he usually puts between himself and the world.

"Fuck—" The word drags out of him slow and broken. His face presses deeper into the pillow, lips parting against the fabric, inhaling so hard it pulls into his mouth. "Smells so good. So fucking sweet"

Your stomach drops.

When he pulls back to thrust again you get an unobstructed view of him, and your mouth goes dry. He's huge, veins mapping his cock in thick ridges, the head flushed a deep red and slick with everything he's been leaking onto your pillow.

"There you go," he breathes, eyes still squeezed shut, hips rolling down in a slow, grinding push. He's talking to the pillow. He's talking to you—or the idea of you, the ghost of you he's got his hands on. "Take it just like that. Let me get all the way inside that pretty cunt, puppy."

He makes that sound again—a high, needy whine that has no business coming out of something so big—and his ears flatten tight against his skull. His rhythm stutters, slow grinds breaking into something harder and more desperate, the whole bed frame groaning with it.

"Such a good pup," he mutters, tail thrashing wild against the mattress, fingers curling into your pillow. His voice is getting rougher, darker, words spilling out like he can't stop them. "Gonna stretch you out so nice. Fill you up with everything I've been—" A sharp, punched out groan. "You'd take it, wouldn't you? Every single bit of it."

His thighs grip the pillow tightly, his whole body going rigid as he grinds down and holds it there. His knuckles are stark white, fingers curled past the point of grip, something closer to desperation made physical. You can see the effort it's taking him to hold back. Every thick vein along the back of his hands stands out in rigid relief, branching up his wrists, mapping the strain all the way to where his forearms flex with each movement.

With every snap of his hips the tension climbs higher. Up his biceps and across his broad shoulders, the whole architecture of him pulled tight. He is holding the pillow like letting go for even a second would mean losing the last thread of you he has access to.

Like if his grip slips, your scent goes with it.

His hands have never looked like this. You've seen them steady holding a weapon, calm giving an order, certain in every situation that called for certainty. Right now they're shaking slightly. Not from weakness.

But from the effort of not having the real thing.

The ache between your thighs is unbearable and the urge hits you like something physical, pressing into your sternum until your body stops listening to your brain entirely. You want to tell him yes. You want to walk into that room and pull those pillows out from under him and put yourself there instead.

Your foot moves forward one step.

That's all it takes. The tiny shift in air carries your scent right through the gap in the door—laced now with the edge of your arousal—and delivers it straight to him.

Valko goes completely still.

His ears snap upright, swiveling toward the door, and his head follows a half second later. Through the narrow crack his eyes find yours instantly, pupils blown so wide the gold of his irises is almost gone. The room sits heavy with the smell of sex and the sound of both of you breathing.

He doesn't cover himself and your eyes drop without your permission.

The sight of you watching him—your scent hitting him fresh and full—is what does it. You watch it happen. His cock swells further, skin pulled tight, a low growl tearing out of his chest and his hips give one last involuntary roll forward.

He cums with his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He stares straight through the gap in the door, unblinking, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes your legs feel unreliable, as the first thick streak of white paints your pillow. Another spasm rolls through him, another rope of cum landing heavy over the exact spot your scent had soaked into the fabric last night. Over and over until the last bead clings to the tip and stretches thin before finally dropping.

His chest heaves and his tongue drags slowly across his lower lip and then his canines like he's tasting the air. His tail gives one long, heavy thump against the mattress.

He's still staring a hole right through you.

​You are completely fucked.

And while we're here @ekay-i .... PLEASE🙏🏻. Valko deserves a spot in the pillow humpers art. i am begging on my knees 🧎🏻‍♀️🫣

Perm tag: @thealunari @i-idk-i-guess @hopelesslala @pearlescenthoney @stillseiims @xavisastrophil @thelastpolarbear @groovyravenagain @nanaminsmuse @darkairenkagamine @lunahaswings @ks-collection @calebunny @aweebs @crimsonrubie @lemurian-girl @aiycnlyme @grecianotes @yourlocalcatscammer @weirdothatwrites @strangelywicked

[unintentionalseductress]

"No, too soon, too soon..."

Valko whimpers desperately as he stills, trying not to blow his load. Your pussy felt too good wrapped around him and he was like a drowning man gasping for air.

He'd fantasized about you so much lately that when you finally came home, he was all over you like a magnet on iron. Now his hot, leaky tip had grown sensitive and hadn't been that long since he started.

He feels like a loser trying to hold it all in, but your slick warmth and arched ass were breaking him down like he was made of cardboard.

"Oh fuck..." He squeezes his eyes shut, praying for retraint but primal instinct takes over and he's rutting into you like a beast, his moans becoming high-pitched and whiny.

"So good...missed this...missed you..." He kisses the back of your neck, your cloying scent only pushing him further to the edge.

"Can't help it...gonna knot gonna knot..." he groans, and after a few more pathetic thrusts, he spills himself into you like an inexperienced virgin, swelling and locking him into place as his face turns a brilliant shade of red.

[calebsfavoriteusedthong]

NERD!ZAYNE TEACHING THE GUYS HOW TO MAKE YOU CUM, SQUIRT AND OTHER TRICKS. Part 3.

Guess who's free from the mature label? 🥳🙌🏻

Part 1 Part 2

The walk back to your apartment felt surreal, it felt like stepping out of a fever dream into something cold and sad. Zayne's dorm room had been suffocating before you left. Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier, even Sylus fought over who'd take you home. Zayne stayed by the window, quiet, but his eyes followed every move you made. You turned them all down. Heart hammering, you scrambled out the door before anyone could stop you, desperate for air, for space, for anything that wasn't his room.

How were you supposed to look at them now?

The images wouldn't stop. You had seen them hard and visibly leaking through their clothes just from watching you. The memory of Xavier’s dark eyes right before he buried his face between your thighs made your stomach flip. And Zayne—God, his voice. That calm cracking into something that ordered you to let go. It wouldn't leave you alone.

Now, sitting in the university library three days later, you couldn't focus on a single line of text in front of you. You were supposed to be studying, but the quiet just made the noise in your head louder. Close your eyes for even a second and you felt it again, four fingers buried inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could take, your pussy clenching around them in little aftershocks. The warmth of Zayne’s cum soaking through his trousers against your bare ass.

The library's silence felt exactly like the silence after you'd come.

Dread settled low in your chest. Was this it? Had you wrecked the only thing that ever felt safe? You hadn't seen any of them in days—dodging texts, taking the long way to class, hiding in corners of campus you didn't even know existed. Two years of friendship and you'd thrown it all away because a little bit of alcohol got you horny. Fuck!

You didn't hear the sneaker scuff against carpet a few rows over. Didn't notice the eyes tracking the nervous way your finger kept dragging across your bottom lip.

Rafayel stood half hidden by art history, knuckles white against the shelf, watching you with the same burning focus he'd had three nights ago.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Forty eight hours after you fled Zayne's dorm, the deadbolt on his door slid shut again. Everyone—except you— was back again.

Caleb leaned against the wall spinning a basketball on his finger until it dropped, thudding against the floor. He'd mutter something under his breath, scoop it up, start over. Rafayel paced the strip of carpet between the twin beds, flipping through a stack of index cards he wasn't reading—snap, snap, snap. Sylus stood by the window with his back to the room, fingers tapping some restless rhythm against the glass. Xavier was the only one still, flat on his stomach on Zayne's bed, chin in his hands, staring blankly at a stray bobby pin left behind on the floor. Zayne sat at his desk pretending to study an anatomy chart. He'd adjusted the lamp three times. Tried to ignore the testosterone fogging up his room. But between the ball, the pacing, and the tapping, focus was a lost cause.

He slammed his textbook shut, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Caleb dropped the ball.

"Stop pretending," he said, voice dropping into flat calm. "You didn't come here to study. Just say what you actually want to say so I can kick you all out."

Silence. Quick, guilty glances passed between them—nobody wanting to be the one to crack first, to admit they'd all been picturing the same thing. You, two nights ago, coming apart under their hands.

Rafayel cleared his throat first, tossing his index cards onto the bed "Fiiiiine. Hypothetically. Say a guy's already inside a girl. All the way in. How do you hit that spot? Is there a specific angle?"

A muscle jumped in Zayne's jaw. "The angle doesn't change just because your dick is inside her, Rafayel. Shallow thrusts, angled up. Not just slamming into her. Though I doubt you have the stability to hold that for long."

"I have great stability!" Rafayel hissed, ears burning pink, thumb rubbing against his middle finger as the memory of you made his pulse spike.

"He once held a paintbrush at the exact same angle for an hour straight," Xavier offered, not lifting his chin from his hands.

"See? Stability."

"That's your wrist, Rafayel. Different muscle group entirely," Caleb said.

From the bed, Xavier's voice cut through again, quiet and lazy. "What about when she's on top? Or on the edge of a desk. How do you go down on her so she can grind as hard as she wants? For when she needs to control the movements herself."

Caleb snorted "A desk? Real smooth, Xavi."

"Better than what you're about to ask."

"You don't even know what I'm about to ask."

"I've known you for two years. I know exactly what you're about to ask.”

Caleb's ears went red, but he plowed ahead anyway. "Okay. Hypothetically, say a guy's bigger than average. How's he supposed to use her mouth without hurting her throat?”

"Bigger than average?" Rafayel repeated.

"I am."

"Compared to what?”

"Compared to the general population."

"You've never seen the general population's dick. You've seen yours and you've seen ours and apparently that's all the data you needed?."

Caleb opened his mouth, found nothing, and closed it again.

Sylus finally stopped tapping the glass and a low laugh rumbled out of him "If a guy's significantly bigger than average…”

“Not you too…” Rafayel groaned

“How does he make sure he actually fits, without hurting her? If she's tight. Really tight. Where's the point her body just gives up and takes it?”

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose again. "I cannot believe I'm hearing grown men compare dick sizes in my dorm room while pretending it's for science."

"It is for science," Caleb said.

"It is not for science, Caleb."

"Reproductive science."

"Get out of my room."

Nobody moved. Zayne let out a long breath through his nose, the kind that meant he was three seconds from actually losing it.

The silence came back, heavier.

Zayne put his glasses back on slowly, fingers locking onto the edge of his desk until his knuckles went white, whatever calm he usually wore was completely gone.

“Every single one of you needs patience and a lot less idiocy than you're currently showing," Zayne said "I'll answer each question once. Once. And then you're all getting the hell out of my dorm. Am I clear?”

Their faces stayed blank. None of them realized they were all in the same boat.

Rafayel thought he was the only one picturing your breasts. Caleb thought his face fucking question was a private fantasy about your mouth, Xavier was silently planning how to put his tongue to use on you again and Sylus was quietly calculating exactly how to stretch you open and how slow he'd have to go. They were entirely oblivious to the fact that not a single one of them was thinking about an imaginary girl. Every single question in that room had your name underneath it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The shadow over your book solidified into something real. Rafayel had stepped out from behind the art history shelves, and walked straight over, pulled out the chair across from you, and dropped into it like he owned the table.

He propped his chin in his palm and smiled at you. Easy. Unbothered. Like three nights ago he hadn't had your leg pinned wide open over Zayne's leg, staring at you with eyes blown wide and wild.

"You've been reading the same page for ten minutes," he said, voice smooth, carrying that familiar teasing lilt like nothing in the world had changed. "Is it the most boring book ever written or are you hiding in here?"

Your mouth had gone dry. You closed the book slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice your hands weren't steady. "Just studying, Raf. Got a lot going on."

"Clearly," he said, dragging one finger in a slow circle against the table, eyes never leaving yours.

He didn't take the hint to go. He pulled a sketchbook out of his bag instead and started doodling something on the margins while you tried, and failed, to read the same sentence for the fourth time. Every few minutes he'd glance up, catch you watching, and smirk like he'd won something. You'd duck back to your notes. He'd go back to sketching. The cycle repeated itself until you couldn't tell if you were studying or being studied.

"You're doing it again," he murmured eventually, not looking up from his sketchbook.

"What?"

"Biting your lip…” He flipped the sketchbook closed before you could see what he'd drawn. "It's distracting."

"You're the one distracting me."

"I'm just sitting here, very quietly, minding my own business."

"You sat down across from me, uninvited."

"I go to this school. I'm allowed in the library." He grinned, and it was the same easy, infuriating grin he always wore.

When you finally packed up, he packed up too, slinging his bag over one shoulder and falling into step beside you without asking if that was okay. You walked across campus together. He talked sbout a canvas he was prepping, about a professor who kept docking him points for too much emotion in his color theory, about some gallery downtown that wanted his portfolio. Normal things. Easy things. He never once brought up the dorm. Never said Xavier's name, or Zayne's, or anything about orgasms or the sounds you'd made that day.

But it was there anyway. In every silence. In the half second too long his eyes dropped to your mouth mid sentence before flicking back up like nothing happened. In the way his shoulder kept finding yours on the narrow sidewalk, brief and electric, like he was doing it on purpose and daring you to call him out. You grabbed coffee. He ordered for you without asking, remembering exactly how you took it, and didn't comment when your fingers brushed his over the cup and you both pretended not to notice.

The whole afternoon felt like holding your breath.

By the time you made it back to your building Rafayel was still beside you. Still talking. Still walking like he had every right to be there. You didn't stop him at the stairs. You didn't stop him in the hallway. And when your key finally turned in the lock and the door swung open, whatever fragile, careful normalcy you'd both been playing at for the last three hours fell apart completely.

You barely had time to kick the door shut.

Rafayel's palms hit the wood on either side of your head, and then his mouth was on yours and there was no easing into it, no polite preamble, just him, kissing you like he'd been thinking about nothing else for three days. He tasted like dark coffee and barely leashed desperation. Your hands found his chest on instinct, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He'd been your first crush out of all of them. The beautiful, dramatic, slightly impossible artist who always seemed to exist outside of your reach. And now he had you pinned against your own door.

"Three days," he breathed against your mouth "Three days of you hiding and leaving my texts on read."

"Raf—"

"I counted the hours." His forehead dropped to yours "I had to stop because… it was embarrassing."

His hands moved before you could say something else—down your neck, across your shoulders, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head. He dropped it somewhere. Didn't look where it landed. He was too busy looking at you.

He'd been replaying it for three nights straight, stroking his cock raw. The light catching your skin. Zayne's hands on you. The sounds you'd made. The image had lodged itself somewhere behind his eyes and refused to leave.

His fingers found the clasp of your bra, knuckles brushing the curve of your spine, and you shivered so hard it traveled through his hands. He undid it carefully—not slowly, he wasn't capable of slow right now—and slid the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside.

"I kept thinking about this," he said, half to himself. "Zayne had his hands on you and I was sitting three feet away going completely insane." He had been dying to see your breasts again since he had seen your nipples turn tight under Zayne's fingers.

He cupped you gently, and the slight roughness of his palms against your skin pulled a sound out of you immediately. He felt it more than heard it.

"Yeah, just like that" he murmured.

His hands were trembling slightly, he noticed and hated it but couldn't stop it. His hands never trembled. But this was you, and you were looking up at him with those eyes, and his hands were shaking like he was an eighteen year old that had never touched anyone before in his life.

His thumbs dragged over your nipples as he watched your face, not your chest, the way your lips parted, the way your head tipped back an inch. Cataloguing. Filing it away. Learning the shape of you the way he learned everything—through touch, through attention, through taking his time even when every instinct was screaming at him not to..

"You have no clue," he said quietly, thumbs circling again, "what it was like to watch you and not be able to—" He stopped. Pressed his lips together. His jaw worked like he was deciding how honest to be. "I kept thinking about what sounds you'd make if it was just me. If I got to take my time."

His hands lifted your breasts slightly, testing the weight with the same attention he gave to everything he cared about. His eyes tracked the movement.

"I want to draw you like this someday," he said, almost offhand, like the thought had just surfaced. Then his gaze flicked up to yours. "Can I?.”

Your back arched off the door and he took that as the invitation it was, mouth closing over your right breast with a hungry sound that vibrated against your skin. His tongue worked tight circles around your nipple before he pulled it deep, sucking hard enough to make your knees buckle, hands moving to grip your waist to keep you upright. When he finally pulled off, he dragged his mouth across to the other side, slower this time, lips brushing the soft underside before he bit down carefully and then sucked until a mark bloomed red against your skin, exactly where he wanted it.

He pulled back just far enough to look at it. Something satisfied moved across his face.

"There," he said quietly before he pressed his face back into your skin and groaned like you were killing him.

You didn't fully register the part where you moved from the door to your bed. Clothes came off in pieces—his shirt somewhere by the desk, your jeans a problem that took both of you longer than it should have, both of you half laughing for about three seconds before his mouth found your throat and the laughing stopped. The sheets felt cold against your back when you finally went down. Rafayel was all heat, hovering over you, weight braced on one arm, looking down at you with the same burning eyes that had been watching you from across that library for the better part of an hour.

He'd shed his pants and underwear at some point. He was fully hard, thick and leaking, a bead of moisture gathered at the tip that made your stomach flip because you remembered what he'd looked like three nights ago, damp fabric, clenched jaw and eyes that couldn't look away from you.

He parted your thighs and settled between them. He'd painted you in his head a hundred times in the last three days. He kept going back to the image of you spread open and wanting, the way you'd looked when you were right at the edge. He'd tried to work through it. Picked up a brush, stared at a blank canvas, put the brush down. Made coffee. Stared at his phone. Almost texted you seventeen times.

He guided himself to your entrance, and Zayne's voice chose that exact moment to surface in his memory. "Shallow thrusts, angled up. You have to use your hips to angle the pressure up against the anterior wall with every thrust. And internal targeting alone isn't always enough. You'll need to add direct stimulation to her clitoris at the same time if you actually want her to cum."

He almost laughed. Instead he shifted his weight and looked at you with an expression that was equal parts focused and insufferable.

"I did some research..." he said.

"Raf..."

"For artistic purposes." He pressed forward, just barely, just enough to feel the heat of your pussy against the tip of his cock, and watched your face.

He let out a slow, shaking breath and pushed inside you.

The sound he made wasn't dignified. It was pulled out of him by the way you gripped him—tight and hot—your body drawing him in like it had been waiting specifically for him. He sank all the way to the hilt, pelvis pressed flush against yours, and stayed there for a moment with his forehead dropped to your shoulder and his jaw locked so hard it ached.

He needed a second. Just one second.

You were clawing at his shoulders, nails dragging, and the sting of it helped him focus.

Pull back. Shallow. Angle up. Zayne's voice was sitting in the back of his skull like an annotation in the margin of a textbook. He wanted to be annoyed about it, but not right now, he was going to be annoyed about it later. Right now he pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, felt you clench around the tip of his dick like you were trying to keep him inside, and thrusted back in with his hips tilted up.

The sound you made rattled something loose in his chest.

He felt it, the moment the angle caught, the way your whole body seized around him, legs snapping tight around his waist and heels digging into the small of his back trying to pull him deeper. He'd hit it exactly. The spot Xavier had worked open with his fingers three nights ago, and the memory of watching that—watching you cum for Xavier—made something possessive and dark curl through him.

It was his turn now.

He reached down between your bodies, fingers sliding through the slick until his thumb found your clit, swollen and twitching, and pressed down.

"Is that—" His voice broke halfway through the question. He cleared his throat, face burning. "Is that it?"

You answered by moaning his name, which he was choosing to take as a yes.

He kept the same rhythm, thumb working circles around your clit. Your walls fluttering around him in little pulses was making it extremely difficult to think. He had to remind himself several times that he was an artist. He had the patience. He was going to make you cum and squirt just like Xavier did.

His hands were shaking again.

"I've got you," he pressed his mouth to your temple, your cheek, wherever he could reach. "I've got you, I've got you, cutie"

He picked up the pace slowly, maintaining the angle through sheer stubbornness. The sounds filling the room were obscene—wet and unavoidable—and Rafayel didn't care about any of it because you were falling apart underneath him and he couldn't look away from your face.

He'd painted a lot of things. Spent years chasing the right light, the right color, the right moment that made something ordinary look like it meant something. He'd never painted anything that looked like you did right now and he was already furious at himself because he knew he would never be able to.

He drove into you harder, felt the headboard knock once against the wall, and decided he didn't care.

"You're so tight," he choked out, the words barely making it past his teeth, pressed into the wet skin of your neck. His lips dragged down to your collarbone, teeth grazing, and his thumb kept its pressure on your clit without mercy. "You keep...fuck...every time I hit it you...It feels so good"

The pressure was building fast, coiling low in your abdomen, that same terrifying weight you'd felt under Xavier's fingers—except this was different, this was Rafayel, his chest against yours and his mouth on your throat and you couldn't think about anything else.

You bore down without thinking, muscles releasing the way Zayne had told you to, pushing back against him, and Rafayel made a sound against your neck that was almost pained.

"Raf...please, I'm gonna..."

"Don't hold it, cutie. Give it to me" he whispered right against your ear. 

A rush of heat soaked the sheets beneath you as you cried his name into the quiet room. Not a whisper. Not a gasp. His name, loud and completely undone.

Rafayel groaned like something in him gave way.

Whatever control he'd been holding onto—the careful rhythm, the patience, the angle, all of it, shattered the second he felt you cum around him. He buried himself as deep as he could go and followed you over the edge, shaking, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he poured into you in long spurts.

He collapsed onto your chest.

His heart was slamming against your ribs, your fingers were tangled in his hair from some point you couldn't remember. The room was quiet except for both of you trying to remember how lungs worked.

His lips moved against your collarbone 

"I sketched you. In the library today. While you weren't looking." His fingers traced something slow and shapeless against your ribs. "You looked like you were carrying something heavy." A breath. "I wanted to take it from you.”

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Tags for this series: @maescorners @bitterprincipality @cordidy @everythingistaken00 @weirdothatwrites @someonestopsoren @linearrr @space-grl02 @ahandacrossspace @fiyoripim @colonelkaboom @emmyemmaemmity @darkangeloftartaraus @zayniesnowangel @imsearchingforwords @kivvy-ryt-here @prchiquita8 @redshirtreads @protoscars @lorepossum @sylusqt @shawtbredd @natsumimatsuoto @applbaerry @multistanwhore @fantasyartist26 @youkoden @cathedralofaudra @thicckage @hurnyhunny @lil-cinn @honeybunchsugarplumcandy

If you asked to be tagged and I didn't it's because I couldn't find your username. If you are not on the list and want to be tagged on the next part let me know.

Part 4: Xavier 😛

[humanjarvis]

cone of shame

synopsis: after getting pricked by a porcupine, valko is sentenced to the cone of shame for 7 days. the vet has one additional instruction: avoid skin-to-skin contact with you.

slowly, he descends into depravity.

tags: fluff, smut, comfort, established relationship, porn with plot, sexual tension, porcupine, valko goes to the vet, poorly researched veterinary procedure, valko implied to have previously been sprayed by a skunk, this dog eats chocolate, plot gets progressively hornier, clingy valko, switch valko, begging, facesitting, cunnilingus, face riding, cum eating, doggy position, spit kink, scent kink, licking, light predator prey, light wrestling, floor sex, male masturbation, voyeurism, biting, manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex, knotting, at least i tried knotting im not too involved with that so i dont know for certain, shirt sniffing, pillow sniffing, these are out of order, poorly proofread

pairing: valko x fem reader word count: 5.4k

a/n: may you forever frolic in that big forest in the sky 🕊️

“Koko! Where are you? We’re going to be late!”

Your gut swirls with worry as you check your phone again. It’s been over an hour—is he still not back from his run? 

Any longer, and your reserved seats for the newest horror movie would be stolen for sure. Not that you think he’d mind, though—he usually curled up into you before the second act even started. 

Peering around the backyard, you scan the dense, verdant woods in all directions. He’d never dedicated himself to any particular trail, which meant that he could return from anywhere. 

It also meant that he could be anywhere right now. 

Fighting a losing battle with unease, you slide your phone into your back pocket and take a few timid steps toward the forest. No matter where he was, he’d come running if you got into trouble. You knew that for certain. How many times had he jumped defensively in front of you only for a bunny or a bird to be the perceived threat? Still, the unpredictability of nature gives you pause. 

Just as you inch forward a few more steps, there’s a rustle at the treeline. 

You can hear that Valko's hurt before you can see it. Those breathy, frustrated whines—you’d recognize them anywhere. But where is he? How is he injured? 

A wall of green stares back at you, refusing to answer.

You’re jogging toward the trees now, throwing caution to the wind as you follow the sounds of his pain. Just before you cross into the forest, you finally spot your boyfriend’s massive figure, his wine red hair being the giveaway. He’s facing a pine tree, tail stiff and laid low, touching his head and wincing repeatedly.

As he registers your scent and whips around to face you, you understand why: at least 15 black-tipped, spindly death daggers sprout from his cheeks and nose. 

“Valko?” You cover your mouth in shock, and he stumbles closer, falling forward against you.

“Hurts,” he grunts. 

Like always, you struggle to support his large body. Even more so now that one wrong move could further impale him. “What happened?” 

“Porcupines are supposed to be nocturnal,” he says, voice grim and shaky. “This one wasn’t.” 

If you had an extra hand, you’d drag it down your forehead right now. 

Skunks, raccoons, exceptionally angry squirrels—those had all happened before. A porcupine, though? That was new. Almost impressive.

“You just get into all sorts of trouble, don’t you.” Taking a step back, you brace your hands on his chest to examine him. “Let me have a look at you.” 

The quills look like toothpicks dipped in black ink. And while a few of them seem to have barely penetrated his skin, the majority mark the porcupine’s decisive victory. 

“Can you take them out?” he asks, staring down at you pleadingly. “If we hurry, we can still make the movie on time. I know I’m super late. I’m sorry.”

Twenty of nature’s finest knives in his face, and he’s worried about the movies?

“You obviously had a reason,” you murmur, cupping his less-affected left cheek in your hand. “I don’t know if I should, Koko. The tomato bath was one thing, but this… If I do it wrong, I’ll just make it worse.” 

His response is simple: “I trust you.” 

Cute. But not what you need right now.

Blowing out a breath, you stand up on your tiptoes and reach for one of the looser quills. Your fingers barely brush the tip of it when renewed anxiety shoots through you. “No, no. I can’t! I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You couldn’t if you tried.” He snorts, then winces at the pain. 

“Tell that to the porcupine.” You narrow your eyes. “I think it missed the memo.” 

His ears swivel in acknowledgment. He’s 0–2 in battles today. 

“All right, change of plans,” you announce, clapping your hands and turning on your heel. “We can go to the movies another day. Right now, we need to go to the vet.” 

“It’s not that serious,” he protests. “I’d do it myself if I just had a mirror. Let’s go back to the house, and—”

“I’ll get the car ready.” Your word is final. 

His ears droop atop his head. 

Ultimately, you had to ease him into the passenger’s seat so he didn’t accidentally nudge any of the quills. You debated just shoving him into the trunk so he’d have extra room, but figured extraction would be a difficult task in the clinic’s often-packed parking lot. 

In the waiting room, you try to shield him as best you can from quizzical looks and a particularly curious cat, but he’s without a doubt the largest patient in the room. Likewise, once he’s called to the back, his sheer size makes the exam room furniture look like dollhouse accessories. The central table is nearly the length of his tail alone, and it creaks under his every movement. But you stand dutifully at his side, making sure he’s as comfortable as can be, given the circumstances. 

The vet’s entrance is prompt as always—part of the reason why Valko prefers this clinic. The other is the giant fish tank in the waiting room that he gets to busy himself with. Today, he was in too much pain, but he typically holds intense staring contests with its oblivious inhabitants, bragging to you whenever he “wins.” 

“Well, I typically ask, ‘What seems to be the problem?’,” Dr. Song jokes as she shakes both of your hands. “But today, I don’t think that’s necessary.” 

Sighing, Valko scratches at his jeans. “I went out for a run, and I heard something grunting in a bush nearby. I thought it might’ve been a lost pup, so I went to check it out. Anyone would, right?” He looks to you for support. 

Smiling softly, you rub a hand down his back. “Right.” Not in most circumstances, no!

Nodding gratefully, he continues. “As soon as I crouched down and saw it, it whipped its tail at me. Next thing I knew, it had stabbed me a million times.” 

“Well.” Dr. Song sighs and pulls out a pair of tweezers. “You’re not the worst case I’ve seen. Sometimes, it’s the whole face—and neck.” She waves her hand forward, and Valko scoots toward her on the table. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” 

You take a step back to give her some space, but she quickly shakes her head. “Oh no, you stay standing next to him. I might need you to hold him down.” 

──────

Right when you wonder if Valko’s death grip will shatter every bone in your hand, Dr. Song holds up the final quill in triumph. “That’s nineteen quills total. Looks like Mr. Porcupine let you off easy.” 

Valko kicks the air in desolation. “Doesn’t feel like it.” 

“It will when you wake up tomorrow and you don’t have to wonder, ‘How did it even get my nostrils?’,” she retorts, heading to the door. “Now, let me just get your treatment, and you’ll be free to go.” 

The second she steps into the hall, Valko turns to you and whimpers. “It hurts.” 

Frowning in sympathy, you run your free hand through his hair. “How bad?”

“Really.” 

You start to shush him and scratch the backs of his ears how he likes, but approaching footsteps force him to regain his composure. Still, when Dr. Song re-enters the room, he holds your hand a little tighter. 

“All right,” she begins. “I’m going to disinfect and put ointment on the wounds, and…” She pulls out a familiar, conical object from behind her back. 

Valko freezes as soon as he sees it. Your own mouth parts in shock. 

Is that…? 

No way. 

“...to keep them from getting infected, either through scratching or contamination, I recommend you wear this recovery cone for a week. Just to be safe.” 

When she waves the transparent cone through the air, Valko sputters in consternation. “You want to put me in jail?”

“Of course not. You’ve done nothing wrong. But to prevent further irritation, it’s best that for the next seven days, you only remove this from your neck when absolutely necessary. Also, you should avoid certain skin-to-skin activities that may aggravate the entry spots.” 

You understand her implication, but Valko’s tail thrashes in unease. “What…what kind of activities?” 

The doctor smiles down at him. “The usual. Scenting, kissing, anything further than that. Now! Raise your head for me so I can clean the punctures.” 

Before he does, Valko gives you a look that needs no decoding: I think I’m gonna be sick. 

Day 1

Your keys clatter on the kitchen counter as Valko trails inside behind you. 

Knowing he’ll be glum about his current confinement, you try to get ahead of it, hoping you can offset the bad with so much good, he’ll forget about being in plastic prison.

“So, is there anything you want to do this evening? Watch a drama, make double chocolate chip cookies, play a video game? I could order in from your favorite steakhouse if you want. Or we could go for a walk?” 

Despite your efforts, his lips stay curved downward. His ears barely twitch at the mention of his favorite things. 

“Okay, what about—”

“I look dumb,” he mumbles suddenly, blinking at you through the cone. It surrounds his head like petals to a flower, stopping just above his nose. He looks like an upright bullhorn, or perhaps a frilled lizard, but you can’t tell him that. 

“You look safe,” you say instead. “That’s what matters, yeah?”

“Not when I look dumb, too.” With a huff, he reaches behind his head, eager to free himself of Conecatraz. But before he can undo the clasp, you’re crossing your arms and tapping your foot, giving him a withering glare. 

“You know you aren’t supposed to touch that. Put your hands down.”

“Make me.”

Oh, really? That’s how it is?

Scoffing, you cock your head at him, and the first signs of regret appear on his face. “‘Make’ you, huh? Should I call the vet and tell her what you’re up to? I’m sure she has advice for patients who break the rules. Like, maybe if you mess with your cone too much and stunt your healing progress, you’ll just have to wear it even longer to make up for it?” You start to turn, ready to stalk toward the house phone. 

“No, wait!” Lurching forward, he tries to bend down to snuggle you in apology—a favorite habit of his. But you sidestep him quickly, clicking your tongue in admonishment. 

As he loses his balance, he gives you a look of ultimate betrayal.

“Don’t pout at me. I'm doing this for you, okay? You heard the doctor. Where your face is concerned, skin-to-skin contact is off limits for now.”

As if he didn't hear you, he ducks toward you again, desperate to marry his cone to your shoulder. This time, you give his arm a healthy pinch, and he yelps in shock.

“No, Koko. It's for your own good.”

Frustration grows on his face, beginning to claw at your heart, too. He’s never had to limit contact with you like this. Even when you first met, he was stuck to you like a magnet. 

Sighing, you try to bring him some comfort. “Here. Get on your knees.” 

He follows the order without further prompting, sinking to his knees on the kitchen floor. Even like this, he’s still half your height. 

“Come here.” Reaching through the cone’s opening, you pet the top of his head, running your fingers through his soft strands with care. When he leans into your touch, you trace his ears with light strokes and smile when he shudders. Gradually, the deep frown on his face shrinks to a mild line of displeasure. 

He wraps his strong arms around your thighs in a stubborn thank-you, and you can't help but coo down at him. “You’re my big, strong wolf, aren’t you? It’ll be over before you know it. You can handle this, no problem.” 

Day 3

Valko could not handle it, and there were many problems. 

In fact, while he was bored out of his mind the night of Day 2, he pried open his laptop and drafted a list of complaints.

Eating has become an unpleasant experience. While he’s permitted to remove the cone at mealtimes, he must eat in a separate room so your scent doesn’t lure his unprotected self over. Worse, you will not enter the room until he’s refastened the cone around his neck. The humiliation of having to cone himself solely to win your presence is quickly becoming too much to bear. 

You won’t let him go on errands with you, lest he get into something he shouldn't and aggravate his wounds. This makes him incredibly restless—especially when you come home smelling like other people and things, and there’s nothing he can do about it. This causes significant anxiety and emotional distress. 

He usually sleeps with his tail curled around you and his face shoved deep into your skin. This earns him a constant stream of your scent. However, a wall of pillows now separates your sides of the bed. Even worse, he is not permitted to remove the cone for the night. This causes discomfort and loss of familiarity, which undermines the restorative purpose of sleep. He will be sending you any medical bills that arise due to his sleep deprivation. 

Last, but perhaps most important: the cone obstructs his view of you, which he depends on for energy throughout the day. (You’re quick to deem this one questionable, because the cone is fully see through???)

A document of his grievances was taped to your blanket, just over your heart, this morning. 

Clearly, he had a lot on his mind. 

Now, you lie on the sofa watching TV, trying to cuddle with him as best you can. Your fingers are intertwined, and he’s sprawled awkwardly across your lap, face up and eyes begging. You try to ignore the incessant nonverbal pleading, rubbing circles into his skin with your thumb. 

Sometimes, he turns his head into your belly—or maybe a little lower—and inhales as deeply as he can through the plastic. When you gasp and swat at him, suddenly scandalized, he only huffs and grumbles, bringing you closer. “Just let me have this.”

As the sun dips in the sky, he almost relaxes. He grows captivated by the nature show you’re watching, ears going into overdrive from all the birdsongs and animal calls. It’s the calmest he’s been in the last three days, you think—until the “woodland creatures” portion of the show begins.

His mortal enemy lies in wait within.

“It’s not as big as the one that did this to me,” he growls at the porcupine stumbling around on the screen. “He was a monster.”

“I’m sure he was,” you answer automatically. You’re used to this by now. “How else could he have taken you down?”

Valko grunts in agreement, then pauses the TV. “Can we do something else now?”

“Okay.” You squint at him warily. “Something like what?”

Slowly, as if you won’t be able to see him, he trails his hand down your side, gently squeezing at your hip.

“No,” you sigh, firmly returning his hand to him. 

Tuning out his protests, you unpause the show. At that moment, a closeup of the porcupine’s snout fills the screen.

“Can you at least change the channel, then?” he mumbles.

Day 5

Since you’ve known him, Valko has never been one to give up. Driven and scrupulous, he approaches life with an outlook that’s both endearing and exhausting: if not now, maybe later.

It’s no surprise, then, when his attempts to hold and claim you like normal escalate to new heights. 

One time, you catch him in the midst of the most primal desperation. 

It’s not even noon yet, but here he is: laid out nude in the middle of your bed, head propped on his set of pillows while he clutches one of yours to his cone. With his instincts compromised and your scent already flooding his nose, he can’t yet tell that you’ve entered the room. And boy. If you thought he was shameless in public, Valko in private is a whole different animal.

His hand is all but glued to the heavy bulk between his legs, pumping and twisting like he’ll die if he doesn’t. 

His thumb circles his tip as he works his rhythm, abs flexing with each ragged breath. Every soft, broken moan of your name is an axe to your resolve. 

Before you do something you’ll regret, you try to back out of the bedroom and leave. But as soon as one foot is out the door, your shoulder hits the wall with a quiet thump. 

You freeze instantly, your heart dropping to your feet.

There’s no point in hoping he didn’t hear. To Valko, no sound is ever quiet.

He jerks his head toward you immediately, steady pumps getting wilder the moment your eyes meet. “Fuck,” he pants, writhing desperately on the sheets. His massive thighs tremble with every movement, sending tiny shocks of heat to your core. “Fuck.”

“Valk—”

“Please help me. Please, it hurts so bad. I need you so bad, please, it’s been days.”

You bite your lip so hard, you think you’ll draw blood. “You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care what the vet said,” he growls, fist finally coming to a stop. “I care about you.” 

Clinging to resolve, you cross your arms and stay put. At that, he closes his eyes and breathes slow and deep through his nose.

“Just— Help me finish, please. You don’t have to touch anywhere near my face. That’s the rule, right?”

As that pleading stare pins you to the spot once more, you bite your lip in consideration. He’s flushed all over, and a thin sheen of sweat coats his whole body. He really does need your help, but can you risk it?

When his mask slips, letting the hungry glint in his eyes shine through, you know you can’t.

“I won’t touch you, Valko. But you can use this.” Swiftly, you tug your shirt over your head and toss it onto the bed. He catches it with ease, and behind the cone, his face contorts in bewilderment.

“Use it?”

“To finish,” you explain, folding your arms across your bra. “It’s the safest way I can help you right now.”

Gazing at you like you’re a deity reborn, he presses the fabric to his cone’s exterior, right outside his nose. As he inhales, a deep, guttural groan escapes him. “Thank you,” he pants. His hand returns to his reddened length, and he redoubles his earlier efforts. 

Leaking arousal glistens on his skin, and you can hear how much easier it makes things for him. Covered in his own desire, he slides his hand up and down with no friction, creating lewd, wet sounds that echo through the room. 

“Thank you, thank you— Fuck, thank you. I’ve done this like ten times already, and it’s taken me longer every go,” he admits shamelessly. “This is so much better. Not as good as you, but so much better. Thank you.” 

He bucks his hips into his giant fist, and for a moment, you fear your shared bed might collapse under his ferocity. Once he starts licking the cone’s wall, as if he’ll be able to taste your shirt through the plastic, you almost want to avert your eyes and leave the two of them alone together. 

You don’t have long to ponder it. Soon after, Valko comes quickly with a deep groan of your name, coating his skin in spills of white. As he convulses in pleasure, you approach his bedside to stroke his hair through the cone’s opening—just like you have for the last several days. Valko whines at your touch. 

“Shh, baby. It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just two more days, yeah?”

His response is halfway between a growl and a grunt. Chuckling, you bend to kiss his damp, darkened hair. “Just two more days.” 

Day 7

At 12 a.m., you wake to an empty bed. “Koko?”

There’s no response to your call. Groaning, you throw off the covers and stretch your tired limbs. Where did he run off to? It’s barely been two hours since you went to bed.

Hugging yourself to keep warm, you pad into the dark hallway. The home gym is clear, and he’s not in the kitchen sneaking chocolate. Where could he be?

It doesn’t take long to find out.

In the living room, Valko stands at the back door, gazing at the moon through the window. 

He’s clad only in loose grey sweats. More notably, he’s missing his cone. 

The only indication that he knows you’re there is a near imperceptible twitch of his ears. “It’s day seven, did you know that?” he rumbles. 

Suddenly nervous, you shift on your feet. “I did.” 

“So you also know what I’ve been missing the last seven days.” He turns to face you, eyes stormy and narrowed. “What I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. What I begged you to give me, but you refused. Acted like you were doing me a favor,” he spits out, lips curling into a snarl.

In the moonlight filtering through the window, his amber eyes are a new level of otherworldly. Pale, greyish-white slivers flicker across his chest, making his taut abs seem to ripple in front of you. 

After seven days, he looks very, very grumpy.

You get the sense that you’re in trouble. 

“Koko,” you start, stepping forward to placate him, “you know that’s not—”

“Don’t ‘Koko’ me,” he snaps. “That’s reserved for people I’m close with.”

Is he serious? “You know I’m closer to you than anyone.”

“Right now? After this week? I’m not so sure. But you will be.” His tail swishes behind him as he takes a menacing step toward you. “Come here,” he growls out. 

“We can talk about this, but I’m not going to—”

“Three.”

“Okay, are you seriously threatening me with a countdown?”

“Two.” 

“That’s my thing! You know, when you won’t let me get out of bed, or when you bite too hard, or—”

He doesn’t let you get to “one.”

When he bursts forward at superhuman speed, he doesn’t even give you the chance to run. 

You’re in his arms in an instant, thrashing wildly as he tries to pull you both to the floor. “You’re heavy as fuck!” you bark at him. “Let me go!”

“No.” He overpowers you easily, lowering you to the carpet and quickly pinning you there. He only takes a moment to revel in your submission—your high squeaks and whimpers and feeble attempts to swat him off. Evidently, he has bigger plans for you.

While you wriggle beneath him, he deftly kicks off his sweats and quickly deals with your clothes. You’re wearing only a nightshirt—his, you notice all too late—and completely vulnerable to his impatience.

He rips a line straight down the middle, clumsily shrugging the worn fabric off you. While you’re too busy gawking to register his actions, he slides down your body, coming to a halt at your traitorously wet heat. 

“Usually, at least a little bit of my scent lingers here,” he says, inhaling you deeply. “You’ve lost it after not taking me for so long. But we’ll fix it, won’t we?”

When you don’t respond, his eyes flash up at you. “Won’t we?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, signing away your fate.

“Yeah, we will.” Surging forward, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your entrance, swirling his tongue into you without warning. His ensuing groan could start a national scandal. 

“I’m gonna let you go, all right?” He nips your inner thigh. “Don’t try to run from me. I’ll catch you.” 

He watches closely as he eases off of you, but there’s no need—you obey. 

“Good girl,” he mocks, and you break his gaze with a huff. 

Chuckling, he sweeps his hair back and lies down on the carpet, grabbing your arm and dragging you to him. “Sit on me.”

“…What?”

“My face. Sit on it.”

“…What?” 

“Oh, I get it. Is this a ‘make me’ kind of thing? Well, if you insis—”

“No!” You hold your hands out in defense, grimacing when he grins at you. “You know we’ve never…done that before.”

He shrugs. “First time for everything. Hop on.”

You stay put, shaking your head with vigor no matter how hard your center pulses. “What if you can’t breathe?”

“Don’t need to.”

“I think you do, but okay.” Playing with your fingers, you search for another excuse. “What if I’m too heavy?”

Valko’s smile slips, and his top lip curls as he looks at you flatly. “Now you’re just insulting me.” 

In retrospect, you should’ve known that one wouldn’t get you very far.

“Fine,” you concede shakily. Crawling toward him, you put your hands on either side of his massive body and sit down on him in a straddle. Gingerly, you scoot up, and up, and up, until your hips are right below his chin. His smirk widens all the way. 

“Last chance to back out,” you offer helplessly. How would grilled porcupine taste?

“In your dreams.” In an instant, his arm shoots out behind you and guides you forward. You cry out the second your sensitive flesh meets his skin, nearly cursing from the foreign sensation. 

For a moment, all he does is breathe you in. Lewd, deep inhales, trying to siphon the scent from your depths. “Missed this,” he murmurs, words slightly muffled. “Missed you. Fuck, you’re so good. You smell so good.”

You’re afraid to look down, but you don’t have to. You can hear his smile.

Instead, you look behind you, seeing that his thick, veiny length is flushed and leaking already. Your gulp echoes in your ears. 

A soft press of his lips to your throbbing clit pulls you back to your senses. With another kiss, he positions the bud over his nose and your entrance over his mouth, so he’s sure to catch all your desire.

When he squeezes your hip, you know he’s asking for more. Gently, timidly, you rock against his face to appease him. Valko, though, ever observant when you’re involved, knows you’re withholding your full weight. 

And he won’t have it. 

Simultaneously, he delivers a sharp slap to your backside and nips your clit in warning. When you squeal out into the cool air, he soothes the sting with a searing lash of his tongue. 

“I’m trying!” you cry. “Whenever we do this, I’m always the one on my back! I feel weird.”

Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up just enough to speak. “Tough.”

Then, he plops you right back down, the smack of skin on skin spreading a wildfire across your cheeks.

Eager to explore, he glides his tongue around your core, poking and prodding wherever he likes. When you arch away from the pleasure, too sensitive to stay still, he decides he’s had enough. 

His tight grip on your hips is his first act of defiance. But when he starts bouncing you on his face, alternating between his mouth and nose, you’re more than ready to throw in the towel. 

“Valko!” you whine. Up and down, down and up. Up and down again and again. How long has he wanted this?

A response would require a pause in his actions, so of course, he doesn’t provide one. Instead, he flattens his tongue against your clit and makes you grind your hips down onto him, like he’s nothing but an extension of you. “Valko!” you repeat, stars quickly clouding your vision.

All he offers is an unburdened grunt, clearly not planning on stopping anytime soon. And why would he, when there’s so much to lap up?

A mix of his saliva and your arousal pools between you, with sound effects previously unheard of filling the room. You’re so wet, at one point, you almost slide down his face to his forehead—but he hauls you back up with a laugh, the vibrations only exacerbating the issue. When you pull at his hair, shy and embarrassed, he merely sucks your clit into his mouth and releases it with a pop. 

Captive to his relentless touch, it isn’t long before your muscles contract and release, sending more and more wetness gushing toward his waiting mouth. 

Your mind is a haze as he licks you clean, making sure not to waste a single drop. You do register, though, how he inhales once again when he’s finished. “Smells like me again. That’s better.”

Thinking his wrath has exhausted itself, you feel your body deflate like a popped balloon. You’re more than ready to melt into the sheets and sleep off the worst of the aftermath. 

“We should seal the deal, though. Just to be sure.”

Valko has other plans.

Before you can blink, he flips you over with force, driving your hands and knees into the carpet. When you yelp, he squeezes your backside in apology, only to slip his fingers down to your open slit. Once he confirms that you’re ready for him, he braces his hands on your hips and slides into you with ease. 

Your startled gasp is his grand opportunity. As you cry out his name, he shoves his fingers into your open mouth, making you sputter and swallow around them. With his other hand, he clamps your jaw shut so you’re forced to bite him, your blunt teeth barely a threat against his skin. 

All the while, he’s moaning and laughing, hips stuttering from his rapid thrusts. Each time his base slaps your backside, you feel him grow larger and larger, until you’re being speared on something you’re not sure you can take. But as your muscles contract around him once more, squeezing him with all that they have, you don’t think that matters anymore.

In tune with your own release, hot spurts shoot deep into your channel, followed by a searing, swollen pressure you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to. It’s at this point that the last of your strength crumbles. But when you start to slump into the floor, you find you can’t move too far—not without bringing Valko with you. 

As you both catch your breath, locked together until the comedown, he slides his hand out of your mouth and slaps your cheek lightly, signaling for you to open your screwed-shut eyes. When you do, he sticks his drool-coated fingers into his own mouth, canines poking into his flesh as he swipes his tongue greedily. 

All you can do is whine.

You don’t know when your bodies will loosen up enough for you to separate. All you know is that he’s got you here, right where he wants you, for a long, long, agonizingly long time. 

──────

“Are you satisfied?” you deadpan as the beast finally tucks you into bed. 

“For now.” You can hear his smirk as he flicks off the lights. Doesn’t make much of a difference, though.

It’s dawn. 

“But you can check back with me in an hour. Maybe my answer will be different.”

“In an hour, I will be dead to the world and recovering from you,” you grumble. Suddenly, you purse your lips. “I’m gonna miss that cone, you know.”

Even in the dim morning light, you can see his brows furrow. “What?” 

“You looked cute in it. Like a little puppy.” Reaching out, you grab his face and squish his cheeks between your fingers. “So cute.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his tail thumps the mattress. “Whatever. It did have its benefits, though. Tonight was so good, I wouldn’t mind a repeat.”

“You really think you can do that again? Seven whole days, no contact?”

“‘Course I do. It wasn’t that hard for me.”

Your eyes narrow into slits. “Not even you believe that.” 

“Yeah. This was fun, though,” he says through a yawn. “We should do it again sometime. Goodnight.”

As he rolls over and tucks his tail around you, blanketing you in half his body weight, a nagging thought won’t leave your head.

Should you switch vets? 

requested tags (you have been warned): @creator-freak, @hughugh20, @saineden, @driedrosesanddaffodils, @pjselee, @strawberrybananamin, @applefishiedragonluvin, @oolong-tea-leaf, @ceceoboro, @simpforsylus3, @akisashtray

[souliloqui]

valko who loves to knot you on your side so while you're waiting for the knot to deflate, he's watching you play breath of the wild on your switch and giving you combat advice.

"now dodge...i said dodge!"

"i did dodge! the fucking lynel's too fast!"

"wow, bested by a lynel, huh?"

"as if it didn't take you a week to kill a gleeok."

"they're a three-headed beast that shoots fire, ice AND lightening at you!"

"excuses, excuses."

[cumchiato]

୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.

“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“

Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.

A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.

“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“

He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.

“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.

His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.

“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.

You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.

“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…

“Valko- can't- no more-“

His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“

Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.

Then something big started pressing at your entrance.

You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-

His knot.

It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.

“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”

“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.

“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”

“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“

“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”

You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.

“Valko.”

He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!

“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”

“YEAH.”

“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.

“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“

“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”

You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.

He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.

“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“

He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.

“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…

“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“

“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.

Still absolutely clueless.

Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.

“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Mm.”

“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”

“I hate you.”

“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”

Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“

“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”

“I never said-“

“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“

“I do NOT sound like that.”

“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”

You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.

“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.

“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”

“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”

His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.

His tail wagged harder.