been seeing those "climbingĀ myĀ boyfriendĀ toĀ seeĀ ifĀ he'llĀ notice" videos and valko would 1000% let you climb him like a jungle gym while not batting an eye. he doesn't even notice you setting up your phone and pressing record because he's so locked into his work. you would start climbing up onto the back on his chair and fully swinging your legs over his shoulders to the front of his chest. and the only thing he thinks to do is to hold your legs and stabilize you and as you continue your ascent to fully sit on his shoulders.
his eyebrows are still furrowed but softer now that you're in his presence. you tug on his hair like ratatouille and he's so surprised by the force that he yelps and actually goes with you. of course, he catches you and steers you back to center. the giggles are off the charts as valko has been accustomed with your silly ways. you comb his hair back and scratch his scalp as he taps away on his keyboard.
you try and ask questions to see if you can rile him up but he is genuinely so happy with answering them.
"whatcha doin?"
i'm just finishing these reports honey bunches of oats, i'll be done in 10 minutes max.
"what does that mean?"
it's just an identifier we use for the different types of metals we have.
"what should we have for dinner?"
mmm, maybe that yummy chicken you made last week. i thought about it this morning.
"who's my pretty boy?" you reach under his chin and give him the lightest scratch. his eyes sparkle as he looks up at you, giving you that love sick puppy smile that shows his canines.
his smile: when valko smiles, his fangs show especially when he's really amused or happy, but when he's trying to tease you or gets turned on by something, his touches his fangs with his tongue in a crooked smile type of look that makes him look more like a wolf than a man
he has heightened senses: this one is pretty much a no-brainer, but still belongs on the general list. all of valko's five senses are heightened to the maximum. he doesn't like loud noises because it causes too much feedback for him, strong smells make him sneeze too much, foods with high acidity levels make him hiss and gag, etc.
he has a glove collection: going along with the heightened senses, valko's sense of touch can be triggered at random some days by familiar and/or unfamiliar objects some days. there are days that one hand is more sensitive to touch than the other. to combat this, he wears gloves interchangeably on either hand to siphon the intensity of different textures. in the lab, however, he tends to wear gloves on both hands because he's constantly doing research and labwork.
he's nearsighted and wears reading glasses: valko typically only wears his glasses at work and they're usually to help him see afar. he also owns reading glasses he wears at home with anti-glare lenses to combat the eye strain from his laptop screen when he's working late into the night and early mornings.
he's streetsmart: valko was homeless a few times in his upbringing and survived on the streets with his wits, physical strength and hacking skills. because of this, valko learned how to stay alive and vigilant, specific handshakes for different gang/black market members, how to fight without his evol and became a prowler at night in the poorer districts.
he's so unserious: valko is very playful and absolutely loves to ragebait his family and friends. he's the type to look up what's trending on tiktok and learn the "I want you back" NSYNC dance just to make you laugh and smile. he's the type to play-fight with you randomly and act on his intrusive thoughts.
he's clumsy: valko portrays a smooth and collected personality to the public, but he's the type to trip going up the stairs and have a love/hate relationship with gravity (pun intended hehehe).
he's into fitness and nutrition: as a child, valko was the runt of his pack, too small and scrawny. this made him adamant to take interest in his own health and maintaining it not just for scientific reasons but because he never wants to be at the mercy of anyone or anything ever again.
he's an overthinker and his worst critic: valko is the type to plan 10-steps ahead. this bleeds into his relationships with others (romantic and platonic) as he'd be the type to plan a perfect date and stress about it 2 weeks before it happens, but can also plan a board meeting presentation in under 2 hours because he's been thinking about it since last week. there is no in between.
he's protective and loyal to a fault: as a werewolf, family and loyalty is everything. belonging to a pack is all valko has ever wanted and hes the type to fiercely defend his loved ones even if it costs him.
missing my wolf a little extra this morning :(
#bringvalkoback
ąØą§ ā Valko was sprawled on his stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, hair an absolute disaster, ears twitching occasionally at sounds only he could hear. His tail had escaped the covers sometime in the night and lay flopped over your legs like a furry anchor.
It wagged once. Twice. Even in sleep, some part of him always knew you were there.
You'd been awake for an hour already- crept out at an ungodly time to execute your master plan, then slipped back in to wait. The apartment smelled like vanilla and sugar and slightly burnt frosting (you'd scraped off the evidence), and the living room was housing a mountain of wrapped presents you'd been secretly hoarding for weeks.
His nose twitched.
There it is.
You watched his brow furrow, still mostly asleep, processing the unusual scent data. His tail started wagging faster. Then his ears perked up- one, then the other, swiveling toward the bedroom door like little radar dishes.
āMmrphā A grumble. His arm reached out blindly, patting the mattress until he found your thigh and latched on,Ā āWhy's it smell like... cake?ā
āGood morning to you too.ā
One golden eye cracked open. Then the other. He squinted at you suspiciously, clearly not trusting his own senses this early, āāS not my birthday.ā
āIt literally is.ā
He buried his face back into the pillow, āBirthdays are for people who age. I refuse. I'm eternal.ā
You snorted and scratched behind one ear. His whole body went boneless, a low rumble building in his chest.
Cheater, he thought hazily. Using the ears against me.Ā
āMade you a cake,ā you said in the sweetest fucking voice.Ā
His head lifted. Both ears now at full attention, pointed directly at you with laser focus.
āā¦What kind?ā
āChocolate. Three layers. Homemade buttercreamā¦ There may also be irresponsible amounts of presents. That leather jacket you've been staring at for six months? Those limited edition headphones that sold out in three minutes?" You grinned. "Oh, and I contacted that artist you like for a custom commission- it won't be ready for weeks so you're getting an IOU with a badly drawn wolf on it. Don't judge my art skills."
His tail was going insane now- hard enough to shake the bed. But his face was doing that thing where he tried to look cool and unaffected and was failing spectacularly.
She remembered, he thought, something warm and overwhelming expanding in his chest. Every stupid little thing I mentioned once. She was listening. She planned this. For me.
You didn't get to finish the sentence.
Valko moved fast and suddenly you were pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face inches from yours.
āYou,ā he said roughly, āare so annoying.ā
āRude. I made you cake-ā
āThe most annoying person I've ever met.ā He kissed your forehead. āInsufferable even.ā Your nose. āAbsolutely unbearable.ā The corner of your mouth.Ā
You cupped his face in both hands.
āHappy birthday, my little wolfie.ā
He made a small, undignified sound. His tail drooped. His ears flattened.
And then he buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you tight enough to squeeze the air from your lungs, and just... stayed there. Breathing you in.
You held him tighter, scratching at the base of his ears as his whole body melted against yours.
His tail started wagging again- slower, softer.
Best day, he thought. Best person. Gonna marry her.Ā
āSo,ā you finally said, breaking the silence, āwanna see your presents? Orrrr is it still too early?ā
He bit your shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.
āFive more minutes.ā He lifted his head, flashing that sharp grin- still slightly watery but getting cockier, āThen presents. Then cake. Then I'm gonna show you exactly how grateful I am. Repeatedly.ā
ā...It's eight AM.ā
āAnd? I've got all day. You gave me three layers. That's at least three rounds.ā
āThat math doesn't-ā
He dropped back down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, āMy birthday. My math.āĀ
āhey,ā he pokes your cheek, a pensive tightness tugging on his lips and around his eyes, āwhatās wrong? youāve been buried in my neck for the last half hour like youāre trying to scent me.ā the cheeky thought settles in for second before he wolfishly grins. āwait, is that what youāre actually doing? youāre not doing it right. i can teach you how to properly scent someone.ā
he pokes your cheek again but only receives a grumble in response from you. the strange, dismissive behavior making his ears twitch in frustration that was directed more at himself than you. he couldnāt sniff out the problem like he usually could and it made him uncomfortable.
āhey, cāmon, whyāre you sad? are you... sad? or are you mad at me or something? tell me what i did wrong, iāll fix it, swear. i just... want to communicate with you. can you give me that?ā
the slight desperation in his voice finally gets you to pull back from him which catches the attention of valkoās tail. it subconsciously wags behind him but his outward demeanor stays the same; focused, worried, protective.
āthere you are,ā he whispers, cupping your warm cheek, ātalk to me.ā
your hand meets over his, thumb stroking the rather rough skin with a timid tenderness. āvalko... are you and i... weāre together, right? you wonāt leave or anything? weāre not just like... temporary?ā
valkoās expression hardens slightly. admittedly, the way he bit the inside of his lip and stared you down was more cute than intimidating. at least to you, someone you believed to be close to him. hopefully.
āwhat?ā he responds roughly. āwhy would we be temporary? did i... make you feel like that or something? did i say something?ā
āno! no, really,ā you chuckle nervously. your neck heats up with embarrassment. āitās nothing you said or did or anything. iām just... like this with new relationships. i just need reassurance a lot, i get anxious. my brain keeps trying to convince me youāll be swept away with work or that weāll be incompatible and... it wonāt work out.ā
āwell, do you want it to work out?ā valko murmurs, unintentionally matching your self-conscious tone.
āyeah, ācourse i do.ā
āthen itāll work out. i want it to work out too, yknow? i really like you. i havenāt really felt this way with anyone. i meant it when i said i could tell that...ā he trails off and pinks with sudden shyness. the way his tail wagged behind him said more about his feelings for you than his mouth sometimes. āahem, i could tell that youāre someone really... good for me...ā
he wasnāt sure when his gaze locked onto the dresser in the corner of your room, but he risks a glance back from it to your now amused expression.
āyou think iām really good for you?ā you repeat with a twitching smile.
āyeah, i do. hey, donāt laugh at me. wolves have great instincts and intuition. i-if i say youāre good for me then you are, i just... want to be good for you too.ā
the laugh that comes from you makes his heart flutter in a manner that only happens when heās with you. youāre proving his point just by being there and you donāt even know it. but itās when your hand finds the soft fur of his wolfish ears that his chest really melts.
āaww, you are good for me! youāre my good boy,ā you tease while scratching him right where you knew he liked it. āwhoās a good boy? whoās a good boy? yes, thatās right, itās you valko!ā
from the speed from which his tail wagged, he was surprised he didnāt start levitating off the bed right there. he lets you continue scratching him for an embarrassingly long time before grabbing your wrist and forcing it your hand down.
āhey! iām not a puppy!ā he frowns, but it wasnāt genuine. āitās like if i picked you up and rocked you like a baby. rude!ā
but his empty complaints donāt falter your bright grin. you try to free your hand from his grip, but he was inevitably stronger than you. he forces your hand lower to his lips and freezes you with gentle kisses to your knuckles.
āhey,ā he murmurs against your skin. the playful air around him changes into something more tender. you can tell by the way he looks at you through his lashes, like heās almost silently pleading.
āyeah?ā
āwhenever you start feeling like that again... like iām going to leave or weāre not going to work out or whatever else, just come find me. work wonāt take me away from you and i wonāt let your fears push me away.ā he presses another gentle kiss to your knuckles. āiām serious. i... i think youāre mine, ān wolves donāt play around with whatās theirs. wolves always take care of whatās theirs.ā
āiām yours? youāre staking a claim on me already?ā you chuckle. slowly, your fingers retract out and find gentle purchase on his cheek. āi promise iāll come to you if i have any doubts. i promise not to push you away.ā
he grins wide, his sharp canines showing. āgood. you wouldnāt be able to get rid of me anyway, iād just come back until you realized weāre supposed to be together. but...ā
he leans in and very carefully slots your lips against his. the unsure kiss quickly thaws into a kiss of unspoken words and warm devotion. he pulls back hesitantly and presses his forehead against yours. his voice is a little raspy as it comes out.
For the Valko requests, I would love to see some cute family fluff between MC, Valko, his cousins, grandma, and his sister (I think he had a sister in his lore, correct me if I am wrong), because I want to see how MC would get along with Valko's family. šŗ
synopsis: when valko brings you home for the first time, he warns you about everything: his grandmotherās food, his sisterās stare, his cousinās stories, the family jokes that always cut too close. he forgets to warn you that love in his house is not gentle or quiet, but loud, practical, mercilessly observant, and served warm at the kitchen table.
cw/tw: valko x reader. very soft domestic fluff. light family teasing.
read here: ao3 ā tumblr
Valko lost his nerve three steps from the door.
It was a small death, but you saw it happen; the brave lift of his chin, the twitch in his jaw, the small, tragic collapse of his entire face when a crash came from inside the house.
His hand tightened around yours.
āDobro,ā he said.
Another crash.
From inside, and older woman called, āIf that's my good plate, I will put someone in the ground before supper.ā
Valko closed his eyes. You turned toward him.
He opened one eyes. āShe loves plates.ā
āMore than people?ā
āDepends on the people.ā
You laughed before you could stop yourself, and relief moved through him all at once, softening his shoulders, loosening the frightened line of his mouth. He'd been nervous all morning. Badly nervous. Valko, who could grin with blood on his teeth and make danger look like a door he'd simply forgotten to knock on, had spent the whole walk here giving you warnings no sane person could have prepared for.
Do not let Mika read your palm. He makes things up and then believes them.
Do not compliment Baba's curtains unless you want curtains.
Do not say you're full.
And, most importantly, if anyone mentions the soup incident, Valko had said, grave as a condemned man, they're lying.
You had asked what the soup incident was.
He had started to walk faster.
Now he stood before the old wooden door with your fingers caught in his, trying to look calm and producing, somehow, the exact expression of a wolf about to be bathed.
āValko,ā you said softly.
āYes?ā
āYou're shaking.ā
āI'm not shaking.ā
āYou are.ā
āIām containing myself.ā
āFrom what?ā
āHereditary embarrassment.ā
The door flew open.
A girl about his age stood on the other side, dark-eyed and grinning, with flour on her cheek and murder in her posture. She took one look at Valkoās hand around yours, then lifted her gaze to his face with the slow delight of someone finding a knife exactly where she had hoped one would be.
A slow smile cut across her face.
āOh,ā she smirked. āSo this is why you changed your shirt twice.ā
Valko made a sound. Small, wounded, entirely unlike a wolf.
āI changed once.ā
āYou changed twice. The first shirt was the blue one. The second was the one that made you look like you were going to court. This...This is the third.ā
His ears went red.
The woman held out her hand to you. āMilena. His sister.ā
āUnfortunately,ā Valko added.
āFortunately. Without me, you'd still think soap is optional in winter.ā
āIt isn't optional.ā
āBecause of me.ā
You took Milena's hand. Her grip was warm, firm, and full of judgement she hadn't yet decided to use.
Behind her, the house breathed out heat. Bread, onions, some in old wood, something sweet cooling on a counter. There were voices everywhere, layered and crossing. One person laughing while another complained, a child humming under a table, chairs scraping, a kettle whistling like a bird losing patience.
Milena stepped aside. āCome in before Baba starts saying we were raised by wolves.ā
Valko muttered, āWe were.ā
She looked at him. āAnd still, some of us learned manners.ā
You crossed the threshold. The house was smaller than the noise made it seem, or maybe the noise had simply learned to fill every corner. Framed photographs climbed the walls in crooked rows. Herbs hung drying above the kitchen window. Nothing matched, and yet everything looked touched, mended, argued over... kept.
Valko leaned close as he helped you out of your coat.
āLast chance,ā he whispered. āWe can run.ā
You looked past him to where an old woman stood near the stove, hands folded over her apron, watching you with bright, wolfish eyes.
āToo late,ā you whispered back. āI think she heard you.ā
āI hear everything,ā the old woman said.
Valko went still.
Milena smiled into her shoulder.
The old woman crossed the kitchen with the slow authority of someone who had ruled this house before any of them had teeth. She was small, broad in the shoulders, silver-haired, with flour on her wrist and no softness wasted in her face. The softness, you realised, was elsewhere. In the bread covered by a towel, in the chair pulled out before you reached it, in the way Valko lowered his head without being asked when she came close.
āBaba,ā he said, and for the first time that day, his voice lost its jokes.
She, of course, ignored him.
Instead, she took your face between both hands.
Her palms smelled of rosemary, yeast, and soap. Her thumbs rested beneath your cheekbones, and for one strange second the whole house seemed to lean closer. The cousins, the kettle, the old boards, even Valko, holding his breath beside you.
āSo,ā Baba Vesna said. āYou are the reason he forgets to eat.ā
āI eat,ā Valko protested.
Teta Marika appeared by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. āYou came here last week, opened the pantry, stared at a sack of potatoes for six minutes, then said, āI wonder what sheās doing.āā
āThat was taken out of context.ā
āWhat was the context?ā you asked, because love had made you brave and terrible.
Valko looked betrayed. āYouāre supposed to be on my side.ā
A boy leaning backwards on his chair nearly lost balance from laughing, another cousin caught the chair by its back without looking up from peeling an apple.
Baba Vesna patted your cheek once and released you. āSit, duÅ”o. Eat something before my family embarrass me properly.ā
Valko gave a strangled laugh. āBefore?ā
No one listened to him.
You were placed at the long wooden table as if the decision had been made before you arrived. A bowl appeared, then bread, then butter, then a small plate of pickled vegetables. Teta Marika, Valko's aunt, kissed the air beside your cheeks and took the small gift you had brought. Mika announced that he already knew your favourite colour from Valkoās face. Luka told him that was the stupidest sentence ever spoken in the kitchen, which Mika accepted as praise. The little one beneath the table emerged, solemn and bread-dusted, and introduced himself as Niko.
āAre you going to marry him?ā Niko asked.
Valko walked directly into the side of a chair.
The whole kitchen paused. You pressed your lips together.
Milena leaned against the doorway, radiant with cruelty. āCareful, Niko. Val only has two knees.ā
āNiko,ā Teta Marika turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. āWe ask guests if they want juice first.ā
Niko nodded, absorbing this etiquette with grave importance. āDo you want juice before you marry him?ā
Valko covered his face with both hands. You bit down on your smile so hard it almost hurt. This wasn't what you had expected.
Some foolish, frightened part of you had imagined a den in the old sense. Teeth, watchful eyes, a family arranged around blood and law, waiting to decide whether your bones could be allowed near theirs. Valko had never spoken of them casually. Whenever he said home, something tender and embarrassed moved through him, as though the word itself had fingers and knew exactly where to touch.
Now you sat beneath a crooked lamp while his grandmother tore bread with her hands and put the first piece on your plate.
āEat,ā Baba Vesna said.
You obeyed.
The bread was warm enough to steam between your fingers. The crust cracked softly, butter melted into it in golden lines. Across the table, Valko watched you take the first bite as if your mouth held judgment from heaven.
You chewed. Swallowed.
āItās delicious.ā
Baba Vesna clicked her tongue. āOf course it is wonderful. I made it.ā
Mika leaned towards you. āHe talked about you after the market yesterday.ā
Valkoās hand hit the table. āNo.ā
āYes, you didā Luka said sticking his tongue out.
āNo.ā
āYou said, and I quote, 'she chooses fruit with such care'.ā
The table went quiet for half a breath, your hand stilled around the bread. Valko looked at Luka as if betrayal had entered the room wearing his cousinās face.
āThat was private.ā
āYou said it in the kitchen.ā
āThat makes it private.ā
Milena sat across from you and rested her chin in her hand. āHe also said you have kind hands.ā
Valkoās mouth opened, nothing came out. Your heart did something foolish inside your chest.
The teasing had worked him bright and flustered, but beneath it, something softer trembled. He was embarrassed, yes. Horribly, so. Beautifully, so. Yet the thing underneath was more dangerous than shame. This was exposure. A curtain pulled open in a room he had spent so long keeping dim.
He had spoken of you here.
At this table. In this warm, loud house. To these people who teased him because they knew what he looked like with no armour on. He had brought you home long before he ever brought your body through the door.
Baba Vesna filled your bowl with soup.
āHe was always like this,ā she said.
āBaba, please.ā
āHe was a strange child,ā she said.
Valko groaned. āPlease.ā
āA sweet child,ā Teta Marika corrected.
āA dramatic child,ā Luka said.
āA biting child,ā Milena added.
Valko pointed at her. āYou bit first.ā
āYou looked biteable.ā
āYou see what I mean?ā Valko turned to you with helpless outrage. āThis is what I survived.ā
There was love in it, the kind that had been cooked too long and reduced into something strong enough to stain. They spoke to him as if they had known every version of him and chosen, again and again, to keep putting food in front of whichever one came home.
You looked at him while he argued with Mika about whether a stolen spoon counted as a childhood trauma.
He caught you looking. For a moment, the noise thinned.
There he was.
Valko with his hair refusing every law of decency. Valko trying so hard to survive his own family and failing beautifully. His eyes met yours with a nervous brightness that made you want to reach across the table and be cruel to every fear that had ever found him.
Then Niko pointed his spoon at you.
āAre you keeping him?ā
The kitchen stopped.
Valko made a tiny sound into his bowl.
Milena closed her eyes as if praying for patience and finding none. āNiko.ā
āWhat? Mika said maybe she is keeping him.ā
His gaze dropped to the table, to the bread by his hand, to the small old cuts in the wood. The blush still clung to him, but it had changed into something quieter now. Hope, perhaps. Or terror wearing hopeās coat.
You could have laughed. Everyone would have let you. It would have been easy to throw the question back into the room like a toy and watch them tear it apart.
Instead, beneath the table, you found Valkoās hand.
His fingers closed around yours at once.
āIād like to,ā you said.
The house held itself still for half a breath.
Then Baba Vesna nodded, once, as if some old contract had been signed in soup and honey.
āGood,ā she said. āHe is difficult, but warm.ā
Valko bowed his head.
His shoulders shook.
At first you thought he was upset. Then you realised he was laughing, quietly, helplessly, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding yours under the table like he meant to keep it there until winter.
Mika groaned. āAh, look at him. Finished. Completely finished.ā
Milena reached for the pickles. āGood. He needed finishing.ā
Teta Marika smiled into her tea. āEat more, zlato. You will need strength.ā
āFor Valko?ā you asked.
āFor all of us.ā
Dinner became less a meal than a storm with chairs.
Bowls moved, hands reached, stories climbed over one another and died unfinished because someone remembered a better accusation. Luka asked you practical questions in a calm voice: where you liked to walk, whether Valko had shown you the old river path, whether he still pretended not to like sweet things. Mika tried to read your palm and declared that you were fated to own a troublesome dog.
āThat's just Valko,ā Milena said.
āI am not a dog.ā
āTrue,ā Luka said. āDogs listen.ā
Valko began quietly placing the best pieces of food on your plate.
A soft carrot, the inside of the bread, a dumpling he pretended to move away from himself and somehow abandoned beside your spoon. He was not subtle. He had never been subtle. He was a wolf trying to hide a whole deer behind a napkin.
You noticed on the fourth offering.
His family noticed on the first.
Baba Vesna said nothing until Valko tried to give you the last honey cake. Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her tea.
āAh,ā she said.
Valko froze.
It was one syllable. It landed like a bell.
āWhat?ā he said.
āNo, no.ā She waved him off. āContinue. Starve for romance. Very noble.ā
Mika threw his head back.
You picked up the honey cake before Valko could die at the table and broke it in two, placing half on his plate. āThere,ā you said. āNo starving.ā
He looked at the cake.
Then he looked at you.
His expression opened in a way that made the room, somehow, feel too small for your heart. It opened with that unguarded, bewildered softness he sometimes gave you when kindness arrived before he had prepared himself to receive it.
Milena saw it.
Her teasing quieted.
For a moment, she only watched him with something old and protective in her face.
Then she stood. āCome help me with plates.ā
Valko blinked. āMe?ā
āHer.ā Milena pointed at you.
Valko frowned. āWhy?ā
āBecause I said so.ā
āThat's not a reason.ā
āIt has worked on you for years.ā
You rose before he could protest again. Milena took two plates from the table and handed you none of them, which told you at once that this had nothing to do with helping.
She led you down a narrow hallway lined with photographs.
Behind you, Valkoās voice rose. āDo not interrogate her.ā
The hallway smelled faintly of beeswax and dried herbs. The noise of the kitchen softened behind you, still there, still golden, but now wrapped in walls. Milena stopped by a window overlooking the yard and leaned her hip against the sill.
For the first time all evening, she let the smile leave her face.
āHe likes you,ā she said.
You smiled gently. āI got that impression.ā
āNo.ā Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen. āHe likes people easily. He likes old men who tell bad stories, stray cats that scratch him, children who throw rocks at windows because they want attention. Valko is built stupid that way.ā
A laugh escaped you.
Milena folded her arms.
āHe brings things home,ā she continued. āBroken things, angry things. Things he thinks no one else will be gentle with.ā Her gaze moved towards the kitchen, where Valkoās voice lifted in protest. āHe does not bring people home.ā
Your throat tightened.
From the kitchen, Valko shouted, āIt wasn't soup. It was stew.ā
Mika shouted back, āStew cannot make a grown man cry.ā
āI was overwhelmed by flavour.ā
Milena closed her eyes for one second. āBože, give me strength.ā
You laughed softly.
She looked at you again, sharper now.
āHe was nervous all week,ā she said. āChanged his shirt three times. Asked me if the house smelled too much like onions. Asked Luka if his laugh was strange. Asked Baba if she could please not tell the story about the goat.ā
āThe goat?ā
āLater.ā A faint smile touched her mouth. āMaybe never.ā
You glanced back towards the kitchen.
He had asked if his laugh was strange.
Something in you ached with such tenderness that it almost felt like anger.
You looked down.
āHe didnāt need to worry,ā
āHe is clumsy with precious things,ā she said. āBecause he thinks his hands are only good for breaking them, even when he is careful. Especially then.ā
āSo be kind,ā she said. āOr be cruel quickly. He will survive either, but I prefer to know which one Iām dealing with.ā
There it was.
The knife under the table. The love with its teeth intact. You didn't resent her for it, you thought, strangely, that you liked her more for it.
āIām not here to hurt him,ā
āMost people arenāt, at first.ā
āMilena.ā
Milenaās gaze narrowed.
āI donāt know what Iām doing with him,ā you admitted.
āWith any of this,ā you continued. āHe makes everything feelā¦ā You searched for the word and hated every pretty one that came. Fated. Wild. Tender. All too polished for the mess he made of your heart. āHe makes everything feel like Iāve been walking past a door my whole life, and he is the idiot who opened it with his shoulder.ā
Milena stared at you.
Then she laughed once, sharp and startled.
āOh,ā she said. āYouāre gone too.ā
You looked down, caught.
She seemed satisfied. āGood.ā
āIs that approval?ā
āThat is me deciding not to be difficult.ā
āYou were being difficult?ā
āDuÅ”o,ā she said, and now her smile had teeth in it, āI was being polite.ā
When you returned to the kitchen, Valko was waiting near the doorway as if he had tried to remain seated and failed.
His eyes moved from you to Milena. āWhat did you say to her?ā
Milena walked past him. āThat you were adopted.ā
āIām not.ā
āEmotionally, you're a wet dog we found in the rain.ā
He watched her go, wounded on principle, then turned to you with genuine concern. āWhat did she actually say?ā
You reached up and brushed flour from his sleeve. āThat youāre warm.ā
āThat was Baba.ā
āFamily consensus.ā
His mouth twitched. āYou are enjoying this.ā
āI am.ā
āYou were supposed to be intimidated.ā
āBy Mika?ā
āBy the bloodline. The history. The general atmosphere of teeth.ā
āMika told me my palm says Iāll own a dog.ā
Valko sighed.
You reached up and plucked the dish towel from his shoulder. āYou have flour on your sleeve.ā
He looked down, surprised, as if his own body had been making decisions without him. Then he looked back at you, and the kitchen noise faded once more, though this time it was only the two of you making the world small.
āAre you all right?ā he asked.
The question was casual enough for anyone else to miss the tremor underneath. You heard it. The naked, waiting part. You thought of his hand shaking outside the door. Baba Vesna taking your face between her palms, of bread steaming in your fingers, of honey cake divided in two, of Milena saying he doesn't bring people home.
āIām all right,ā you said. āAre you?ā
Valko smiled too quickly. āIām alive.ā
āThat wasnāt the question.ā
His smile softened.
For once, he did not joke immediately. It cost him something. You could see it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, reaching for mischief and finding courage instead.
āI wanted them to like you,ā he said. āI wanted you to like them.ā
āI doā
āI wantedā¦ā He stopped, then laughed under his breath. āI donāt know. Something stupid.ā
He looked towards the kitchen, where his family had resumed their noise without mercy. Mika was accusing Luka of stealing the larger piece of cake. Baba Vesna had taken down a tin from the highest shelf, probably containing either biscuits or secrets.
āValko, stop hiding her. I have photographs.ā
Horror returned to his face with magnificent speed.
āNo.ā
āYes,ā
āNo photographs.ā
āNaked baby photos,ā Mika added.
Valko went pale. āYou do not have those.ā
Teta Marikaās voice drifted after him, serene and deadly. āWe have everything.ā
He grabbed your hand. āWeāre leaving.ā
You let him pull you three steps before Baba Vesna appeared in the doorway holding a small album to her chest.
āSit,ā she said.
Valko sat.
It was remarkable how quickly a wolf could become a grandson.
For the next hour, they showed you the evidence of his life.
Valko missing two front teeth and glaring at the camera as though betrayed by dentistry. Valko asleep under the table with one hand buried in a dogās fur. Valko at thirteen, all elbows and outrage, holding a fish half his size while crying because he had to put it back.
There was Valko covered in mud, Valko wearing a paper crown, Valko with Milenaās arm hooked around his neck while he pretended to hate her and leaned into her anyway. Valko standing beside Baba Vesna in the garden, holding a basket of tomatoes like he had been entrusted with the fate of nations.
Each photograph was another small door.
You had known him in pieces: the grin, the hunger, the awkward tenderness, the jokes he threw like branches over deep water. Here was the rest of him. Here was the child who had survived becoming himself because these hands had fed him, scolded him, dragged him upright, and remembered his softness when he tried to outgrow it.
At some point, while everyone argued over whether the goat incident happened before or after the soup incident, Valko bent close to you.
āYou donāt have to keep looking,ā he murmured.
You turned a page.
A tiny Valko stared up from the album, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.
āYes,ā you said. āI do.ā
He stared at you.
Then, very briefly, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.
It lasted only a second. A shy, exhausted surrender. No one commented on it, though you knew every person in the room saw. That seemed to be another house rule. They would mock the wound, yes, but they protected the pulse.
Later, when the cups were cleared and the album returned to its shelf of holy embarrassments, you stepped outside for air.
The yard was cold, dark and soft around the edges. Herbs grew beneath the window, yhe old trees leaned towards the house as if listening. Behind you, the kitchen glowed gold, laughter pressing against the glass.
Valko followed after a moment, closing the door carefully behind him.
āIām sorry,ā he said.
You looked at him. āFor what?ā'
āThe interrogation. The photographs. Mika. The marriage question. The soup litigation.ā He rubbed the back of his neck. āMilena.ā
āI like Milena.ā
āThat means she behaved.ā
āShe said she was being polite.ā
He winced. āThen she liked you.ā
You leaned back against the porch railing, and he stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, rocking once on his heels like he wanted to come closer and had forgotten the law of his own body.
Through the window, you could see Baba Vesna pretending to wipe the table while watching you both with shameless interest. You lifted a hand and waved.
She waved back.
Valko turned, saw her, and groaned. āFor the love of...Baba.ā
āShe loves you.ā
āThat's her usual excuse for crimes.ā
āItās a good one.ā
He looked back at you, and the teasing left him slowly, piece by piece. Out here, with the house at his back, he seemed caught between the wild thing and the loved thing. The wolf and the boy in the paper crown. The man who had brought you to the threshold with shaking hands and still tried to joke like fear could be made harmless if he gave it a funny name.
āDid you mean it?ā he asked.
āWhich part?ā
āWhen Niko asked if you were keeping me.ā
The question came lightly, too lightly. A feather laid over a blade.
You reached for him.
This time, Valko did not hesitate. He came into your space at once, as if pulled by a string tied somewhere behind his ribs. His hands settled at your waist, careful at first, then warmer when you didn't move away.
āI meant it,ā
His eyes searched yours.
āFor tonight?ā
āFor longer than that.ā
He didn't kiss you immediately. Somehow, that made it worse. He stood there and let the answer enter him, slowly, like someone opening the door to a room he had been told was empty and finding it lit.
Inside, Mika yelled, āAre they kissing?ā
Valko dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
āLeave them. He is finally being normal.ā
You laughed.
He looked at you then, and the last of his embarrassment broke open into something bright, something almost boyish
āWelcome home,ā he said, very softly.
You touched his cheek.
Behind him, the old house breathed and creaked and held its golden noise. Inside, his family waited with tea, teeth, stories, and a place at the table already made yours.
And that's the part that's making me lose my fucking mind.
We lost an entire section of the MAIN STORY.
The livestream literally told us Valko's release was going to reveal more about the Aethercoreāone of the biggest mysteries in Love and Deepspace and something that's been central to the plot from the very beginning.
So now what?
You think they can just delete him and nothing changes?
Do people genuinely think you can rip out an entire story arc without consequences?
Everything that was supposed to be revealed through Valko now has to be rewritten, redistributed, or outright cut. The main story is going to have to be retconned. Future updates are going to have to be reworked. Characters may have to be rewritten just to fill the gap he leaves.
If you're celebrating this because you "won," I sincerely hope you understand what you've actually cheered for.
Summary: you're on a date with a total douche who keeps bragging about playing on the AHL and (unknowingly) fanboying over your best friend who thankfully makes an apperance just in time to rescue you from a nightmare date.
Word count: 1.2k
āĖąæ tina's note ššĖāĀ I got this idea at 2AM while half asleep and rambled it to my notes app because I was too tired to type then laughed this morning when I read the note back because it's literally me going "And like the date is an asshole and he's talking about likeā¦ and likeā¦ but likeā¦ and then Garrett likeā¦ and blah blah blah and likeā¦ and yeah that's it" but here's the (hopefully) better version of my 2AM ramblings
Off campus masterlist
The only redeeming quality of this date is honestly the fact that you won't have to pay for the food and wine you've had. This restaurant is not one you'll usually choose, it's not your style, too fancy and grand for your liking. Your date isā¦ well let's just say you highly doubt there will be a second date.
"So you say you went to where for college?" He asks after finishing a rant about the latest crypto he invested in.
"Oh, I went to Briar!" You perk up a little at him finally showing some kind of interest into you "In Massachusetts, I-"
Of course, he cuts you off "Yeah, I know of Briar, it has one of the best hockey programs in the country, it was one of my options but I felt Michigan calling out for me more"
"Oh yeah, you play hockey right? I have friends who do too" You comment.
He scoffs "You do, don't you? Well sweetheart I'm in the AHL right now, I bet your friends have heard of me, I'm NHL bound any day now"
"Oh really?" You ask with a raised eyebrow, you don't tell him about your two friends breaking records with the Bruins right now "Are you playing here in Boston?"
"No no, I'm with the Islanders" He says, you quickly comb through your hockey knowledge, remembering Garret say something about how the Islanders were bottom three teams in the AHL right now but you choose to keep the information to yourself for now "Just in town visiting some friends and having dates with beautiful women apparently"
"Got lots of those?" You tease jokingly but his reply comes serious.
"A few, not a great dating pool around here honestly" He shrugs "It's just a thing of our generation, women trying too hard to prove something" You give him a slow nod curious to see where this horrible point of him goes "Like just yesterday I was out with this girl who kept arguing with me about how she wouldn't quit her job as a doctor even if she was dating an athlete like me with a packed schedule so she could take care of the kids"
"That'sā¦" You don't even know what to say and thankfully (?) you don't have to say anything because he's not done.
"Like, you have to understand one thing about me honey, I already have a brutal schedule with hockey right now but as soon as I make it to the NHL it's gonna get worse" He shrugs "I need a woman who understands that. There's too few of them around now and I think that's the reason current legends like Graham stay single"
"Garret?" You ask.
"Oh you know of him? Yeah, total beast on the ice"
You nod "I went to college with him"
Your date laughs "Oh I bet you were running around behind him for a bit of attention huh?"
"Uh not exactly" You can't wait to be done with this date.
"Oh come on honey, it's Garret Graham, legend, if not for his hockey skills then for his legacy, his dad was a beast too, really look up Phil Graham" You're not going to lie that hearing him fanboy over one of your best friends is kinda funny, but the guy is annoying to no end so you start thinking of exiting strategies "I'm already on my way up there with him" He's not, you hadn't even heard his name until now and you like to think you are somewhat well versed in the hockey world "Someday you'll be bragging about having gone on a date with me"
You're still thinking about a good excuse to leave the date when the restaurant door opens, you look that way because anything is better than the douche in front of you and you see him, your best friend, Garrett Graham, he notices you too and smiles warmly.
"Holy shit" You hear your date gasp "It's Garret Graham, and he's looking this way, I bet he recognized me from our last game against Boston"
And no matter how much of an asshole this guy is you still can't find it in yourself to break his heart so you plan on letting him believe that's the reason Garret looked your way, but your friend has other plans because he approaches your table, attention solely on you as he leans down to pull you into a warm hug and kissing the side of your head on his way up.
"Hey Tink! What are you doing here?" He asks, the nickname he gave you years ago flowing out, your date, who still hasn't been aknowledged stares in absolute shock.
"Hi Gar, I'm uhā¦ dinner" You motion to the guy sitting in front of you and Garret finally turns his way.
"Oh hey man" He greets with a nod and his attention is back on you "You gonna introduce me to your friend?"
"This is Dave" You don't have to say anything else, Garrett has always been an expert in reading you, he already clocked how this date is going.
"Well, nice to meet you Dave" His words are polite but there's none of the warmth he's had towards you "I'm just here for a quick meeting with my agent, but why don't you wait at the bar for me when you're done here? 15 minutes top?" You nod and he leans down to kiss your forehead again "I'll open up a tab and have your drink waiting for when you're ready" Then he turns to Dave and says "Nice to meet you Gabe" And he leaves.
You fight a chuckle and see his shoulders shaking as he walks away.
A little later, Garrett's turning on the engine of his Jeep, a newer model of the one he had back in college, but before he pulls out of the parking lot he speaks "I just don't know why you insist on going out with those idiots when I'm right here"
"What and miss Dave's NHL debut?" You joke but you know he's right and you're not sure why you're still going out on pointless dates "I heard Bridgeport might have a chance at the playoffs this season, I might get a WAG jacket"
"He's in the AHL?" Garret makes a face, you nod with a laugh "Tink, the chances of Bridgeport making it to the playoffs are lower than Dean being able to recreate Tuck's chicken pot pie recipe successfuly" You burst out laughing remembering the time you had to call the fire department because Tucker was away visiting his mom in Texas and Dean insisted he just had to have chicken pot pie.
"Holy shit I'd forgotten about that" You wipe tears out of your eyes "The firefighters looked so disappointed when Dean asked if he could still eat the food"
Garett looks at you with a wide smile and loving stare "Do you think the WAGs will give me a discount for the fee because we're halfway through the season already?" His question could be taken as a joke, but you know him and you know he's being earnest "Or will they charge me a late fee? What size jacket do you wear? And you can't get mad at me for not knowing, you always end up stealing mine anyways but I don't think you want a Garrett sized WAG jacket"
"Gar slow down" You stop him and he freezes up realizing he's probably gone too far and you're about to tell him you don't see him that way but instead you grin at him "You have to get to the playoffs first, we can't go jinxing it with all this planning ahead"
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