Summary: As an omega who has spent her entire life rejecting biology, destiny, and every alpha who thinks softness is something owed, you’ve built yourself out of spite and survival. You don’t believe in belonging. You don’t believe in bonds. You don’t believe love means anything if fate gets to choose it for you first. But then, Valko walks into your life: an alpha who might challenge every single thing you’ve ever believed about fate, freedom, and love. Do you dare follow?
Cn: 18+ MDNI! Omegaverse, Alpha/Omega dynamics, Alpha!Valko, Enemies to friends to lovers, Fated mates, Angst
l word count: 3.7k l smut, piv, knotting, biting, scent kink l read on ao3 l
Started writing this the night before all hell broke loose and couldn’t even look at it for several days after. Here, have some hopefully cute and spicy wolf smut in these trying times.
"Valko, what are you doing here?"
You'd heard a thud from your balcony. The quiet night had carried the sound through the open door and snapped you out of your barely awake state on the couch. Valko had somehow made a seemingly graceful landing, perched on top of the railing, dressed in all black with bright golden eyes searching for you.
"Checking to see if you've still got your guard up, which you clearly don't," he states, landing with both feet firmly on the tiled floor as he folds his fingers into the shape of a gun and pointing it at your head. "Kaboom."
You push his hand away, annoyed, and ready yourself to ask more questions when he strolls right past you headed into your apartment. "Aren't you at least going to knock first?"
Valko immediately turns on his heel and taps his fist on your forhead, twice, making a point of bowing down to your height.
"Hmm," he smirks, tilting his head," I don't think anyone's home. What a shame, since I came all this way."
"Put your paws on my face one more time and I swear I'll bite."
"Haha, how adorable," he chuckles, sarcastically. Not even a second passes before he has both his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together and pressing your lips into a forced pout. "Careful, huntress, only one of us has actual fangs."
As if the statement needed proof, he leans in and bites your protruding lower lip, pulling at it for a bit before releasing.
He freezes, savoring the faint taste of you on his fangs. His gaze flickers between yours and your reddened bottom lip. Not enough, he determines. The beast within is already eager for more.
You seize the chance to overpower him, shifting your hold on his biceps so that you can twist yourself out of his grasp. In your next move, you hook your leg behind one of his causing the large man to tumble backwards, taking your with him on his descent to the floor. You quickly cage him between your thighs and lock his wrists in yours above his head, smirking proudly down at your prey.
"Who's guard isn't up?" You tease, releasing one of his wrists to mimick his fingergun from earlier. "Kaboom."
Valko just smiles, equally as proud. He can’t resist the urge to tickle your side, poking and prodding with his freed hand. Your giggles feel like a reward he hasn’t earned yet, but he wants to, desperately.
Valko knows he's still got a shot when you zero in on his fangs as he smiles. Having you studying his wolffish features with such adoration makes him feel soft and cuddly. He’d let you inspect all his not-so-human parts for however long you’d like. Map out his body with your hands, lips, tongue, until your scent was all over him. He’d let you bite. Let your dull and harmless teeth sink into his skin, over and over again, until he was certain there would be a mark there the next day.
You subconsciously lick your bottom lip, tracing the lingering phantom indents from his far too gentle bite. Unable to resist anymore, you take your pointer finger and drag it across his fangs, feeling their sharpness when he parts his lips to grant you access.
"I might bite."
"Promises, promises," you sigh, letting your smile grow with his.
Blood rushes to his cheeks, painting them a pretty pink. However, Valko is more concerned with the blood rushing to another part of his body.
Hoping to distract you from the bulge barely concealed by his pants, he bites down on your finger.
Your gasp is far too close to sounding like a moan.
"Fuck," he mumbles, shakily, the pad of your finger now resting on his lip.
The wind picks up, cooling down the sweat on your body and causing goosebumps to erupt on your bare arms. Valko can't feel the cold anymore, not now that he's bathed in your scent and tasting the salt of your skin, with his hard length so close to your core.
"Fuck?" You tease, raising your eyebrows.
"Yeah fu– wait, what? I didn’t–"
His panic is short lived, evaporating as your laughter fills his ears. Valko knows the pink in his cheeks has likely turned into a bright red by now.
He decides it's his turn to take control, rolling you both over so that he’s on top pinning you down. You thrash and pull trying to free yourself, but Valko has your wrists thoroughly pinned and your legs incapacitated, spread wide on either side of his waist.
"Valko," you say sternly, although it comes out more shaky than intended as the cool tile is pressed against your bare back. The thin cotton t-shirt you’re wearing has ridden up and exposed your lower torso to the night. You instinctively arch your back to escape the cold tile, presenting your cold and hardened nipples to the man above you.
"Fuck," he repeats, with conviction, swallowing hard as his gaze shifts to your chest.
"Yeah," you whisper, tilting your head in the opposite direction while trying to remain somewhat calm. You’re just play-fighting, that’s all, right? Then why is your pussy throbbing, wet and warm, begging to be filled. "Fuck."
You exposed your neck to him. Valko can see your pulse, practically feel it, if he counted he’d sure find it above your usual pace. Saliva gathers on his tongue at the delectable sight below him, and he fears his restraint has reached its breaking point.
"Do you, uhm–" he stutters out before all words seem to escape him. His animalistic instincts are screaming, clouding his mind to the point of silencing his human voice. Instead a wolfish growl slips out.
The sound is unexpected, leaving you confused and furrowing your brows silently asking for him to explain.
He can’t. Each quickened breath is accompanied by another soft growl or a low rumble from deep in his chest. He’s blinking rapidly trying to come up with a way to explain himself before your impression of him has been permanently tainted by this strange animalistic outburst.
"You want..?" He manages, before going quiet again. His dick has grown painfully hard within the constrictive material of his jeans. In a moment of weakness while distracted by the ache, his hips roll forward pressing his hard length directly against your core.
You both moan at the sensation before Valko finally finds a moment of clarity and he realizes what he’s done. Wide eyed and apologetic he tries to pull away and releases your wrists. He doesn’t get far when your legs wrap around his waist, keeping him tethered to you and pulling him closer.
"Yes."
Your hands cradle the nape of his neck and tangle in his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. Its hungry, messy, full of need and desire.
Finally, you feel his fangs on your lip again; a gentle tug, yet you whimper almost pathetically at the mere idea of a proper bite. You can tell by the way he growls, so unrestricted now, that he wants to use more strength too. Like you, he craves the feeling of your skin between his teeth.
With one arm, he continues supporting his weight above you, the other trails down your side before dipping in underneath the hem of your t-shirt. Warm fingers find your breast, kneading the soft flesh before devoting their attention to your nipple. Valko swallows your little whimpers of appreciation as if they provide sustenance. The only thing being fueled is his own increasingly throbbing need for you.
Tentatively, he rolls his hips again. Your legs are still locked around his waist and you use them to encourage him to continue, pressing your bodies together. Suddenly, you don’t feel cold anymore. Valko’s heat radiates off his skin and engulfs you entirely.
His heat, his scent, his touch – you’re getting lost in it.
"Val… inside," you whisper breathlessly between kisses.
"What? Here?"
"No, I mean we should go inside," you giggle.
The surprised look on his face quickly matches your amused one. His forehead momentarily drops to your shoulder where you feel a breathy laugh hit the side of your neck.
"Alright, hold on tight, babe" he says mischievously, smirking like he’s got some grand plan you’re unaware of.
You barely have time to process what the nickname does to your already rapid pulse before he’s lifting you both off the cold tiled floor. With a shocked gasp you quickly grasp his shoulder and the back of his neck, digging your nails in on accident.
Valko feels the tingle of your human claws claiming him all the way down his spine, nosing the side of your neck appreciatively.
"Bedroom?" he asks, and you point him in the right direction. You’re very eager, and Valko loves it.
He doesn’t take the time to look around. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Your scent is everywhere. Perfume and laundry detergents he recognizes as yours, but also every other layer that is pure you. In here, he’s incapable of ignoring the scent of your arousal which has steadily increased since he arrived. In here it’s magnified.
"Fu-ck, you don’t know what you do to me."
Your back hits the mattress, fast. Tossed into the perfect little nest where your scent is the strongest.
Valko is on top of you mere seconds after, caging you in with his large frame. His hands map all the parts of your body that he can reach. His mouth descends on your chest, lips wrapping around your nipple through your shirt, eagerly sucking and lapping at it with his tongue.
He seems displeased when you shimmy away. Even glancing up at you with furrowed brows and a curl to his lip that almost exposes his fangs, until he realizes that you’re pulling your shirt off. He allows himself a moment to stare before resuming his actions. This time with direct access to your skin. His mouth works one nipple while his hand finds the other, rolling it under the tip of his finger.
Pressure continues to build deep in your core, aching with the need for more contact than his rolling hips are able to provide through clothing. Your hips rise to meet his and Valko takes the opportunity to pull your pajama pants down. Again, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight. Kissing, licking, and biting his way down your belly, golden eyes stay locked on yours.
Valko hooks his fingers into your panties, fighting the urge to simply tear the flimsy material off your body. Even with his restraint, they almost rip from the impatient tugging.
"Oh, you smell so good, babe. I need to taste you."
With a long, slow drag of his tongue, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit, Valko is addicted. There’s nothing slow or patient about how he moves. Licking and sucking like he’s truly starving for it. He starts fucking into you with his tongue, using the strong muscle to taste you properly, while his nose presses into your clit.
"Shit, Valko! Ah!" Your mind can barely keep up with him, but your body doesn’t seem to have that same issue as it races toward your first orgasm. "S-slow down."
He grunts disapprovingly, tightening his grip on your hips when you begin to squirm too much for his liking.
Your hand flies down with the intent of tugging at his plum colored tresses. Instead, your fingers find soft, furry ears atop his head. Glancing down through hazy eyes, you see a tail has sprouted from his rear and is flicking wildly back and forth.
Valko whimpers into your cunt. His body is clearly growing restless, but his eagerness to please and taste you doesn’t falter.
Despite his nearly drunken state and the newness of the situation, Valko reads your body like an open book. His enhanced hearing picks up on how your breathing changes to shallow and strained. The darkness of your bedroom doesn’t hinder his golden eyes from seeing each tiny droplet of sweat that has gathered on your skin. Your strong legs growing tense against his back, thighs closing in on his head keeping him locked against you.
You’re close.
"I’m gonna- I’m coming!"
Your orgasm hits, hard. A string of breathless moans and attempts at forming the shape of Valko’s name echoes in the room, filling his ears with your praises. He relishes in the feeling of your hips rolling against his mouth, using him to ride out your high. When you settle, he switches to gentler kisses and licks, lapping up your arousal like a reward now that he's finally earned it.
You don't have time to process the intense feeling for long. The impatient wolf at the foot of your bed clutches and releases the flesh of your hips, trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, fighting against every fiber of his being telling him to claim.
Propping yourself up on your elbow, you reach down to hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull. Valko crawls over your body, wide eyed and obedient.
He's practically shaking above you. How much he's holding back, you don't know. However, you've realized that you'd prefer if he didn't. If you're going to do this together, you want all of him.
"What do you need?" You question. His lips linger only a few centimeters away from yours, parted and almost quivering with poorly concealed lust. "Whatever you need, take it. I want you to."
He pulls back slightly, shaking his head when he speaks. "Don't say that. You don't know what you're agreeing too."
"Show me."
"I might hurt you," he says, almost like a challenge.
"I'm a capable hunter."
Valko huffs out a laugh, dropping to kiss your collarbone, neck, jaw, before stopping with a teasing graze at the corner of your mouth.
"I know you are, huntress. The beast in me has sensed that about you since we met. No fear, no uncertain moves. You're confident, even when I get close like this..." he whispers, sneaking a hand between your bodies and unbuttoning his jeans. "...which is exactly why it would be dangerous. You're irresistable. If you say I can take, I won't stop taking until I've had my fill."
Valko is right, you don't know what you're agreeing to. A fact that becomes even clearer when you feel his bare cock, warm, thick, and heavy, pressed against your sensitive folds.
You see relief flash in his eyes for a moment before it's consumed by need and instinct. His pupils dilate, enhancing that bright yellow glow in your dimly lit room. A sharp fingernail you're certain was not there before trails up your side. There's not enough pressure to break skin, but enough to leave a pretty, rosy line from your hip to right below your breast.
"You asked for it, babe." Then he stands, shedding the rest of his clothes in the blink of an eye.
You knew Valko was big, obviously. But seeing him naked, all raw muscle and warm flesh, makes your previous assessments feel like a gross underestimation. He must have noticed the shift in your expression as your eyes mapped out his body, the way your breath hitched when they lingered on the impressive length between his legs.
"Scared?" The words are meant to taunt and tease. Valko wants to lure out the huntress, using himself as bait.
He climbs back in bed, trapping you beneath him. An unwilling gasp escapes you when he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit, seemingly hitting perfectly every time you try to open your mouth.
"Use your words, huntress."
With a scowl and nostrils flaring slightly, you mutter out, "n-no, I’m not scared."
He chuckles darkly, keeping his gaze locked on yours while slowly dragging his cock down from your clit toward your entrance. Both your breaths hitch when he nudges your hole. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air, lust and desire clings to your skin, and Valko seems to have reached his breaking point.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he mumbles against your lips.
You don’t have time to question him. The stretch of his cock slowly sinking into you clouds your mind and overtakes any coherent thought. Its not until Valko’s growls turn into pained grumbles that you’re able to snap back.
"Valko?"
"Sorry, it’s so hard."
"W-what?" You whimper as his body shifts slightly, another couple of centimeters disappearing inside of you.
"You feel so good, babe. You have no idea. I-I cant–"
He pushes forward, sinking every hard inch of himself into your warmth. You whimper, biting your lip through the sting. Valko notices and begins nipping at your lips until your bite relaxes. He kisses you, rolling his hips back and forth a little faster than he would have liked to.
Your participation in the kiss pauses, replaced by heavy panting against his lips. Valko tries to initiate something, but you’re not entirely sure what until he speaks.
"Bite me," he mumbles, pressing his own bottom lip in between yours in an open mouthed kiss. "Bite me instead, babe, please."
You obey, biting down on him like you just did on yourself. It makes him pick up the pace, rolls turn into quick thrusts that reach the deepest parts of you. The sting is still there, but you don’t care anymore.
His lip is released when your moans become too much to contain behind your teeth. Although Valko craves your bite, his alert ears excitedly welcome your unrestrained sounds of pleasure.
Strong hands claim your legs, hoisting them up onto his forearms. The slight change in angle has you seeing stars. His tongue slips out from behind his teeth, happily tasting your skin and drooling onto your neck.
The lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and liquid arousal is nearly drowned out by Valko growling and whimpering against you. You can’t see his tail, but you feel the cool winds it creates in quick gusts on your legs. Goosebumps appear, caused by chilled wisps of air or Valko’s heat, maybe both.
"So perfect," he slurs, "my pretty huntress, taking me so well."
Your gummy walls succumbed to his size long ago allowing the tip of his length to kiss the deepest parts of you.
"Val–fuck, you feel so good, Valko."
"I knew you could take it – take me. My capable huntress. Mine."
The claim unlocks something in him; a feeling and instinct he hoped to keep at bay. But then you speak again, and Valko realizes he’s doomed.
"Yours."
His teeth find your neck, biting down into the soft flesh and breaking skin. The taste of metal tingling at the tip of his tongue. Your body goes rigid, nails sinking into his shoulders, and you find yourself falling over the edge before you’ve had time to realize what’s happening.
He holds you through it, only releasing the caught skin to whimper into your ear, "mate, my mate. You’re mine now."
A new stinging sensation blooms at your entrance, the burn much more intense than before. Valko’s lips don’t leave your neck. They linger near his bite where he licks and kisses the wound, mumbling your name between each strained breath.
"You’re my capable huntress, right? You can take it, can’t you?"
You don’t know what he’s talking about until you feel an impossible stretch right before Valko stops moving. He clings to your body, warmth filling your insides as he cums.
Cautiously, he rises from the safety of your neck so that he can check in on you. Some clarity has been regained now that his knot has locked the two of you together.
To his horror, your face depicts ache and discomfort. He ruined it, he went too far. The beast claimed too much of him and now you’re dealing with the consequences.
"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."
He begins licking your cheeks, tasting the salty tears you didn’t know had been spilled. After a brief pause, the licks are replaced by kisses.
"I’m ok," you smile, unconvincingly.
The wounded look on his face breaks your heart. Your palm begins caressing his cheek and he relaxes instantly, seeking your comfort.
"I promise, I’m ok. I just wasn’t expecting that."
"Was it ok?" His human ears have gone bright red. The wolfish pair atop his head lay flat against his hair.
You nod, smiling. This one is bright enough to convince him.
"So… how long do we stay like this?" You question.
The flush spreads to his cheeks.
"A while…" he says, vaguely, after retreating to hide in the crock of your neck.
You can’t help but giggle at him. The large wolf, bashfully seeking shelter in your arms.
"Hey, Valko?"
"Hm?"
"You bit me pretty hard just now, what was that about?"
His eyes go wide. He doesn’t respond with words, instead he sinks even deeper into your embrace and rubs his nose against your skin, leaving your mind to work out why his knot seemed to pulsate when you asked your question.
AN: First time writing Valko and first time knotting lol 👉🏻👈🏻 Hopefully someone will appreciate this even though things are so weird and uncertain rn. Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!
3.8k - Valko accidentally singing to MC and she can't help but laugh (based on this tweet) - 18+
You yawn, humming, feet swinging in the air, book in hand. The weekend is finally upon you and you’re free of hunting for a few days. Not only that, but your bedding—well, Valko’s bedding—is freshly washed, and you’d decided to take an everything shower in preparation for the long weekend. Everything will be perfect once Valko actually gets back from work.
Over the time you’d been together, you’d both become accustomed to dropping by unannounced. At this point your two homes could be considered one with the way personal belongings can’t seem to stop invading the other’s space. You hadn’t even needed to bring anything when you decided you’d spend the weekend at his. Your skincare was fully stocked at the vanity next to his and there was no lack of clothes to choose from in the side of the closet he saved especially for you. Of course, you’d still decided to ignore those clothes and steal his pajamas, relishing in how his shirts pooled at your thighs.
As a thank you, you’d cleaned up for him. It was obvious he’d had a long week from the state of his home.
And now you’re reading a book he’d left on the nightstand on your side of the bed…and checking the clock every minute or so. Any minute now.
It takes approximately 12 more minutes until you hear the telltale sound of the front door opening. You jump up, scrambling to stick a bookmark in and rolling towards the edge of the bed.
Your feet plant on the floor, sending you running when you hear his voice.
“Baby girl is that you?” His tone is playful as his voice echoes down the hallway.
“It’s me!” You cheer. You run down the hall, slipping on the smooth hardwood and crashing into the wall with a loud ‘oof’.
Valko bounds towards you, worry painting his rugged features. He visibly relaxes when he realizes you're crouched over from laughter and not pain.
“You gotta be more careful sweetheart, damn. Gonna give a guy a heart attack.” Valko cackles while he pulls you into his arms for a crushing, soul-healing hug.
“I was too excited to see you! It’s been two weeks.” You respond, leaning into his arms and breathing him in.
“Yeah I know, I’m sorry. It’s been so busy at work and I meant to stop by yours last week but ended up crashing at the office.” He nuzzles into your neck, the telltale thump of his tail bouncing against the wall as it wags, echoing behind him.
“Well you’re here now, so that’s all that matters.” The spicy scent of his cologne is filling your nose and making you dizzy. “Did you want dinner first, or a shower?”
Valko pulls back a hair, his hand sliding down to rub your waist. A sly smirk spreads across his face, his lips pulling to show off a sharp canine. “First? Did you have something planned?”
“Oh, no. I just shaved everywhere for no reason.”
He freezes, snapping to attention. “You shaved your bush?”
You snort, clasping his cheeks between both hands and shaking his head. “No I didn’t–! No, Val! I swear!”
He’s grabbing you and hauling you over his shoulder while you holler with laughter. Your fist does nothing to stop his advance towards the bedroom, not even your legs kicking out against him can.
Valko’s warm hand slides up your leg, grabbing your thighs in one, quick motion and stopping you from almost kicking him in the face. He tosses you onto his bed, pillows dropping to the floor with the bounce of the mattress.
You shriek when he begins to climb over you, shutting right up when he dives towards you, lips crashing into yours with a starved kiss that has you squeezing your thighs together.
Valko pulls away, smirking at the way your expression becomes crestfallen in his absence.
“Hey!” You reach out to pull him back down.
He dodges, jumping back when you sit up and grab for him again. “Nope–I gotta shower first. Wait for me here.” The bed shakes a little with his heavy footsteps as he hops backwards towards the ensuite bathroom.
“Ugh–you SUCK!” You grumble, flopping back onto the bed.
“Oh I will.” He remarks from inside, the sound of a zipper coming undone just barely audible over the rush of water from the showerhead.
He kept the door open and you know he wishes you’d join him in there, but you’re not about to wash away the hours worth of skincare you put on. Besides, he won’t be long anyways, probably even more excited than you.
—
You stare at the ceiling, the soft strains of a Radiohead song playing from the bathroom. Every now and again you can hear the quiet mumble of Valko singing along, as if he really wants to break into a soulful rendition of High and Dry, but is just embarrassed enough to keep it to himself.
He’s cute like that–confident, a go-getter, never afraid to ask what he wants…but when it’s quiet and it’s just the two of you, that mask fades and you see the shy, awkward, wolf that desperately longs for your approval. You give it freely, of course, but his instinct is still there, despite his best efforts to break out of it. You know, one of these days he’ll crack and you’ll see every side of him, all the time, but the best you can do right now is accept what he decides to show you and wait patiently.
The shower stops, knob squeaking from inside the bathroom. Valko’s humming fades into a mumble.
You smile, enjoying the sound of him talking to himself. It’s like he’s trying to keep a mental note of something, but always ends up murmuring it to himself and going red in the ears when he realizes you’re listening.
He emerges from the bathroom, prompting you to sit up. You shield your face with your hands when he approaches and shakes out his wet hair, splashing cool drops everywhere.
“Holy shit guys, what was that? I didn’t know it could rain inside!” He looks around the room, feigning a search for some hidden cloud.
You laugh, sitting up and scooting closer to him. “That’s crazy! You gotta get your house checked.”
Valko grins, tail thumping against his legs and almost knocking the loosely tied towel around his waist to the floor. He places his phone on his nightstand, music still playing quietly from the speaker.
You like that about Valko too, he gets nervous when it’s too quiet, his nose scrunching with worry as if he won’t be able to fill the silence all by himself. You’ve tried to convince him it’s okay if it’s quiet, but he prefers the noise and you can’t help but indulge him.
He gives you a quizzical look, “What? What are you thinking? What’s that face?”
Your fingers lace with his, your lips pulled into a loving smile as you look up at him. “You’re so cute.”
He huffs out a little sigh, almost a whimper, and pushes forward to lean over you. “I love you so much.”
You smile up at him as he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you and staring down at you like every puzzle in the universe has finally been solved. “I–love-you–too!” You murmur, punctuating each word with a peck to his cheeks and nose.
Valko hums, his tail starting its slow wag as he leans down, his plush lips meeting yours in a kiss so soft it feels like floating. You sigh into it, meeting him with equal softness. His tongue slips out from his mouth, licking gently at your bottom lip until you allow him entry. From there it’s all over.
His hands grasp at your hair, sides, shoulders, wherever he can touch and rub until you’re tingling with goosebumps.
The clean scent of water and heady body wash fills your nostrils, the smell reminding you just where you are. Everything about him and his space is this way. Soft, and clean, and smelling so strongly of him that just entering the room feels like a warm hug. You grasp his shoulders, a little moan falling from your lips, letting him know you’re pleased, that you want to be here, that he consumes your thoughts and body just as you consume him.
Valko pulls away after what seems like an eternity, breath warm against your cheek. His hand fiddles with the bottom of your–his–T-shirt. “Can I take this off?”
You hum, “Yeah.” No matter how many times it happens, you can’t help but flush at how careful he is. He doesn’t care if you’ve done it a million times, he’ll still ask every time, watching your face so closely to make sure you’re okay.
Your arms raise as he pulls the shirt over your head, letting out a little groan at what lies beneath. No bra, no panties, just you. Beautiful, irresistible you. Captivating his every thought so badly that he can only get through the work day by reminding himself if he finishes faster he can see you faster.
You giggle, stroking his cheek, his skin so warm against your palm, “Someone’s getting distracted.”
He shakes his head, breaking out of his trance and looking back at you with eyes so full of admiration you freeze up a little.
“Sorry, I just…I missed you so bad it was all I could think about…and now that I have you I barely know what to do with you.”
Your nose crinkles up and you grab him, pulling him towards you in as tight of a hug as you can muster. “I actually can’t stand you, you’re gonna make me cry.” You hug him tighter, giggling with delight when he hugs you back with strong arms, arms made just for you.
He seems like he’s about to say something, so you speak quickly. “You don’t have to hold back, Val. I missed you just as bad–I really don’t care what happens, as long as it’s with you.”
You can see his shoulders visibly relax as he nods, hair tickling your shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay…” He pulls off of you and leans back on his haunches, “I’m gonna eat you out then, ‘kay?”
You giggle, nodding and getting yourself cozy against his downy pillows.
Valko sighs, smiling to himself as he situates himself over you. Your skin tingles where he kisses along it, lips traveling from a sweet peck on the mouth to your jaw, clavicle, and down your arm. He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your palm before working his way down to your thighs.
With every advance towards your core, his tail thumps louder against the mattress. You flush as he kisses along your inner thighs. He’s slow with it, kisses almost distracted as he nibbles the warm skin. The anticipation is enough to drive you crazy. Finally, he reaches your sweet spot, kissing your clit before giving it an experimental suck.
You moan, a little noise, just enough to betray you’ll never fully be accustomed to the jolt of pleasure that sizzles through your body when he begins. You can feel as he adjusts, his nose bumping the bud while his tongue darts out between the folds of your labia, tasting the sweet wetness that had gathered there, just for him. He laps at your folds with increasing desperation, the moans that crash from his lips mixing with yours in a beautiful cacophony.
It seems like in the space of a moment he’s gone from sweet and soft to devouring. He throws your legs over his shoulders, his tail tickling your calves as it whips back and forth. You writhe, hair swirling in tumultuous curves as your head turns from side to side on the silken pillow. Your thighs squeeze and he groans, reaching up with one of those big old hands of his and gripping at your thigh before moving to palm at your breast.
The world feels like it’s spinning out beneath you, spirals of pleasure shooting up from your core into each limb and back out again through your sweet moans. They fill the space of the bedroom, drowning out the quiet thrums of the music that Valko had left playing from his nightstand. You can hear Valko whining, slurping up every drop of arousal you have at your disposable and wantonly begging for more between your blooming lips.
His undercut is bristly beneath your fingertips when you grasp for purchase, his rosy mauve hair bright against the soft, greenish hue of his bedroom. It’s like a buoy in the middle of a roiling ocean, just managing to capture your attention and remind you where you are in the midst of your pleasure. The idea that he loves you so desperately and craves you with such starving desire has you flying past the edge and your muscles locking when the rush of your orgasm finally hits you.
Valko is still lapping away, his lips encircling the puff of your clit and making you tear up from the overstimulation. You pull at his hair, panting. “Val–Val stop–”
It takes a few moments for him to register your request and pull himself away with disappointment marring his rugged features. “Are you okay? Was that okay?”
“Yeah–yes. Shit, c’mere” You breath, grabbing his hand from your chest and pulling him by the arm towards you. You can’t manage to kiss him fast enough, sighing when his lips are finally on yours. You can taste yourself on him, but you’re more focused on the warm scent of his skin and his hands grasping your face. The way he’s kissing is sloppy and so aggressive you can feel yourself actively being pushed back into the pillows–the soft pillowcase crowding your ears and muffling his whines.
His hand drifts down to your shoulder, then sides. Warmth spreads beneath your skin as he caresses further down, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat.
You can feel how his body shifts above you, sheets rustling between your legs when he ruts into the mattress. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, too focused on you and his wandering hands.
With a gasp that rasps at your throat with its sharpness, you pull away. Not far, just enough that you can push a few words out while you press your forehead–almost painfully so–into his. “Put it in–now–please.”
He whines, nose rubbing yours, his incessant humping against the mattress stilling for a moment. “Condom?”
“Mm-mm.” You respond, a tiny shake to your head. “I want to feel you–all of you–this time.”
“Okay.” The gravelly timbre that floods his tone buzzes in your skin, fresh arousal dribbling below so incessantly you’re almost shamed by it. But why should you be shamed at how much your boyfriend turns you on? Sure, he’s hot and knows what he’s doing when it comes to you, but the way he speaks to you and treats you, not only outside of bed, but especially in bed. Not all men are this kind in both situations. But Valko…you know he would rather die than hurt you. And that thought–that thought has you wet to the level of obscenity.
And the craziest thing? You’re proud of it. You’re proud of how badly you’ve fallen for this man. There really is no place you’d rather be and no other man you’d rather be with.
Valko is busy as you watch him, slowly undoing his towel and folding it in half. You’d think he’d gently toss it onto the chair by his bed but he seems to remember where he is at the last second and hucks it at the bathroom door entrance with the kind of abandon you usually see on a man who’s missed his bus and decided there’s no other option but to run to catch up.
And boy, does he run. His movements are accelerated now. You groan when he dips two fingers back into you, gathering slick to spread along his shaft and tip. He’s been leaking pre steadily since the activities began, that much apparently from the large, wet spot you saw on his towel, yet he still uses you he knows how crazy you get about it. He really does pay attention so well, to you at least.
He jolts as he roughly strokes his shaft, flinching, probably from the death grip he has on it. You reach up to rub his shoulders and comfort him, but end up only gripping them for purchase because he’s decided now is the time to press his tip up against you. It’s been two weeks, but he’s slow and, despite the desperate nature of his movements earlier, he did a good job of prepping you. It should all be a breeze, and it is, except he’s mumbling again.
You realize the words are lyrics, lyrics from the quiet song that plays from his phone on the nightstand. So conscious of you and your every movement is he, that he forgets himself in the moment. It makes you want to laugh. Enough that you feel the giggles bubbling beneath your lips. You want to hold them back, but he suddenly thrusts up to the hilt–finally–and your mouth falls open, half moan, half laughter.
Valko doesn’t snap out of his daze immediately, only once you’ve been giggling a solid few seconds does he gain consciousness enough to look at you, confused, his lips falling silent.
Your lips purse while you beam up at him, trying to hold in the laughter.
He realizes when the song hits a crescendo and his cheeks fill with a blush somehow deeper than before. “F-fuck, sorry.”
With a shake to your head, you smile wider, nose wrinkling with mirth, “I like…when you sing.” You murmur, pulling him by the shoulders down towards you so your bodies are almost parallel to the mattress.
A beat passes then suddenly Valko lunges forward, thrusting up deeply into you. His lips are fiery against your skin while he kisses all over your neck and shoulder. “Mean it?”
“Mm-hmm.” You sigh, gripping his shoulders as his pace picks up. It seems that every extra word you say has him building momentum, pushing you deeper into the pillows, and closer and closer towards the headboard.
You almost claw at his shoulder blades, each jolt of his body against yours punching the breath from your lungs and robbing you of any last shreds of decorum you have left.
Valko groans into your shoulder, pushing up onto his elbow and looking down on you. “You can scratch. You won’t hurt me, I don’t mind.”
“Okay...” Your palm goes flat on his back for a moment, fingers relaxing in the tiny window of calm you’re gifted.
Then he shifts, pulling back, lifting your legs up, and spreading you so wide you feel the sting of your hamstrings just beyond the haze of pleasure. Valko moans when your nails drag along his traps, leaving red streaks in your wake. If you were in your mind right now, you’d make the excuse it was because you were looking for purchase, but your consciousness floats just out of reach. And your nails drag, scratching and clawing at his skin like somehow his DNA caught under your fingernails will bring you that much closer to being one with him. Like your bodies, fused in your most intimate parts, will somehow combine you into one perfect being.
Valko sits back and grabs you, bringing you towards him and pulling so far out his tip almost slips out. Then you’re on his lap and he’s thrusting so deeply up into you that your vision goes black. You crash forward, sloppy as you grab onto him, hair falling over your face and his, tickling your skin with the curtain it makes around you two. Your eyes are open now, meeting the waxen yellow of his, flecks of gold hidden behind the dark haze of his arousal. Distantly, you hear the slap of skin on skin and the quiet hums of music echoing against the walls, but that isn’t the focus.
Nothing is the focus, but the burning pleasure that builds, his fingers are circling your clit again and everything is becoming too much as your orgasm builds. Stroke, by sloppy stroke, Valko thrusts into you until you’re keening over into his arms and spilling around him as he presses one last time into you, the virile warmth of his release painting your inside a beautiful, pearlescent white.
You pant, a weary hand reaching up to tug your hair out of your’s and Valko’s faces so you can see him. His eyes, golden and warm now that the light hits them, smile up at you, his teeth sparkling as he grins lazily.
“You like when I sing?”
“I like whatever you do when you fuck me like that.” You jest, leaning to kiss him, only pulling away when you remember you still need to catch your breath. “I want to hear you more often.”
Valko exhales, visibly bashful, but handling it like a champ. Just like he handles you while he lowers the both of you down onto the pillows again. He’s pulled out of you by now, but you can feel him filling up again against your leg from the praise. And truly, you would be remiss if you only spent one round with him after such a long absence these past two weeks.
—
The overhead fan buzzes, cooling your damp skin. It had taken a few more rounds to get everything out of your systems. You’d convinced yourself that by this time your skincare was settled into your skin and another shower wouldn’t hurt. So a shower the two of had, and what an eventful one that had been.
That’s irrelevant, though, because–just louder than the ceiling fan and your thoughts–is Valko, humming. Humming for you, probably, so eager to please it would make someone with commitment issues sick. Not you, of course.
At this point, every time his hand comes down to brush warm circles into your arm, you’re more and more convinced that you’re going to marry him. You want to marry him so hard it’s branded into your brain whenever you look at him. Even that isn’t relevant right now, though, because you’re here with him in his arms. It’s so warm here, so soft, so peaceful as his chest rumbles with the distant strains of a song long stuck inside his head.
Valko yawns, the music ceasing for a moment. “You wanna do anything else? I can order food?”
You shake your head against his chest, letting yourself sink deeper into his embrace. “Nah, we can do that later. I haven’t gotten my fill of you yet.”
He laughs boyishly, almost bashful when he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”
Then that beautiful humming starts again and the world is at peace.
This tweet has been tickling my brain for WEEKS and I needed to finish it! Ty to all the people who encouraged me to finish this, this is for you guys hehe <3
tags: @crimsonrubie, @sometimes-in-love-always-alive
Summary: Valko explains it takes two to knot.
A/n: @reilemon, I wrote it. Lol. MDNI banner by @/ cafekitsune
Your thighs shiver as you struggle to keep them open for Valko's gentle caresses on your clit. Sensitive and swollen, you whimper as it throbs heatedly under his fingers. Small tears trace salty tracks down your cheeks and Valko kisses them away without stopping his maddening touches.
"Val, please…" you beg, nails sinking into his arm, leaving half-moon dents in his thick biceps. "Been ages...No more...just need to cum..."
He licks your ear, followed by a nibble as his free hand cups your breast, tweaking your pebbled nipple in time with his circles on your clit. "You're not ready yet mouse," he purrs, his hot breath tickling your skin.
"Do you know why I need you all hot and drippy and tender before I breed you?" That deep, throaty voice that Valko used when he was explaining biology takes over, pushing you further into sin. "Do you know how knotting works?"
You gasp as he slides a finger into your slick pussy, thrusting gently as his thumb takes over working your engorged bud. "I'm only one half of the knot, sweetheart."
Your walls clench around the invading digit, too eager for the stimulation. "What?" Mind hazy and fractured, you barely form the word.
"Yes little mouse. See, you help form the knot too." He licks the shell of your ear, tugging your nipple to keep you alert. "When I touch you like this, you get a little needier for me every second. And the needier you get, the wetter you get. And the wetter you are, the easier for me to slide right into this poor little hole that's desperate for my cock."
A shivering moan tears from your throat as his finger disappears past his knuckle, and he presses into your clit firmly, continuing those circling motions.
"What do you think happens if you're not as needy as you should be, and I slip in?" He pauses all his actions, giving you a second to gather your wits and reply, but all you could think about was having an orgasm, to fall apart on his fingers like a little pathetic toy.
"You don't know?" He chuckles lowly, but kisses your cheek. "That's ok mouse. If you did, it means I'm not touching you right." And all at once, he resumes everything, your body tight as a bowstring under his wicked ministrations.
"See, if you're not completely ready, these walls here won't swell up when I breed you. And if they aren't swollen, then it means my knot won't last as long. It'll slip out sooner. Do you want that?"
You shake your head no as you gulp in air, hips arching shamelessly against his hand.
"Good girl," Valko growls. "Yeah, you want to be knotted good as I pump you full of cum, huh? Want me all up in there as long as possible, milk me dry with those heavenly walls."
He inserts a second finger and you nearly black out from the pleasure as he scissors, stretching your walls to their limit. You cunt spasms in warning, but before the feeling can build, he pulls them out, and you're left empty and aching.
"Valko!" Tears sting your eyes and he licks them away.
"It's ok mouse. You're not ready yet. I'll knot you so good when you are." He licks and bites down your neck, leaving marks as his middle finger gathers moisture from your leaking hole and rubs it onto your clit.
Valko asks it all casually, clacking away at his laptop as you sit on the couch, one of your legs right next to his shoulder, brushing it a bit.
He tries his best not to sink his teeth into the plush of your thighs, eyeing it as his cock starts throbbing. He tries so hard not to snatch your phone up and throw it, demand your damn attention, sniff you.
It's especially hard not to sniff you when you smell so fucking sweet, ruining him every time he is alone with you - which is often, given the assignment you two were on together. That and you have become friends, which he doesn't wanna fuck up with the wolfish way he wants to claim you.
Bite you, mark you, make you his.
Breed you-
"It's just Caleb," his eyes narrow behind his glasses now, looking right at you. "What? He is in town."
"Uh huh... Caleb," he repeats- he knows his ass is obsessed with you. Who could blame him, really? But you should be paying attention to him right now.
Not Caleb!?
"Well, what's he saying?"
"He was asking to come to dinner and... ah! Did you just bite me!?" He growls before he can stop himself, his teeth sunk into your thigh. You suck in a breath, smacking at him. "You bratty dog!"
"I am not a dog," he grumbles, smirking at the glittery teeth marks on your skin. "Tell him you are busy."
You blush when he sets down the laptop, spreading your thighs and kneeling, his ears twitching as he looks up at you - your heart hammers in your chest.
"Oh. Should I?" You tease, breathless when he slides his hands up. Sharp nails press against your delicate skin.
Leaning forward, he is far too close, inhaling your skin, breath against your inner thigh, making your pussy drenched.
"Valko..."
"Tell him. Now, sweetheart," he murmurs, done with pretending.
He needs you.
He can smell your juices, see the darkening of your panties when his pretty eyes flicker to your cunt. Pushing your thighs further, you drop the phone.
"Ah-ah," he bites your other thigh. Your hands come to tug on his fluffy ears, making his tail twitch side to side. Cock leaking. "Tell him you're busy."
"Fuck, okay," your shaky hand picks up the phone, your eyes getting lidded when his nose brushes your pretty pussy over those panties, you suck in a breath at it, fingers faltering. "mngh..."
"Tell him," he says in a soft little hum, inhaling you again, palming his cock to adjust it, feeling it swelling with how badly he wants to devour you. "If you wanna cum, you will."
"Fuck you're a brat," you mumble as he tugs you closer, shoving your knee up over his shoulder, nose inhaling your cunt again. "Are you gonna just sniff me !?"
"Till you answer," he sighs. "I could do this and cum."
"Freaky wolf, ah!" He bites your inner thigh, your juices just slippin' down further, in rivulets against his face, his glasses fogged up with his breaths. "F-fine."
Sorry Caleb - I'm busy tonight.
You show him the screen, and he smirks, a curve of his lips.
"Good girl."
Fuck.
Valko tugs your panties aside, looking at the mess your cunt is and moaning at the sight, tongue hot as it laps you from your ass to your clit, then back down, not just tasting - he's fucking lavishing you, spit soaked tongue dragging through your folds. "V-Valko I..."
"Good, good, good... good girl you're s-so... good," he's gripping you bruisingly now, slurping your messy, needy hole, the juices just pouring - his adam's apple bobs as he gulps you down, his glasses just slightly askew from the way he's drinking you. "Taste s'good... fuck..."
He could almost cum from the taste alone, greedily dragging his tongue from your slutty, quivering hole to that twitchy clit, all while you're gripping his hair with one hand, the other rubbing his ears. It feels so good as he lets you coat his taste buds, watching your eyes roll back in your skull.
You shatter so fast, but he's not even trying to make you cum - he just needs your taste, he needs your scent, biting your clit before he can stop himself, the action having you squirt right down him, all over his sweater and his collar. He laughs softly as you whine out, arching your hips, thighs quivering.
"Please... in me, mngh..." You see his slick face and blush, the dark mess you made on his sweater apparent as he takes it off, standing, his cock leaking through his sweats.
You go to touch him but you don't get a moment, he's got you turned and bent over the living room table, that sweater of yours gripped in his huge hands, claws ruining the material without him meaning to. He spits right on your cunt just to make it even messier, it's so wet she doesn't even need it, laughing as you arch, thighs shaking.
The phone goes off.
Valko hums a bit, looking at the message.
"Aww... he misses his 'pips'. Cute," Valko laughs, lost now - he's not the goofy little jerk you're used to, not when he's lining his reddened tip with your hole - no, he's feral. "Should we show him how you're doin'? Hmm, sweetheart?"
"N-no, psycho," you're wetter at the idea, and he notices, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, torturing you as you arch, begging for more. "In me, in me... in - ah!"
Valko slides his veiny, thick cock deep, his tail wrapping around his body and tickling you as he groans, head falling forward, that heavy weight pressing you down. He's as big there as he is everywhere, his grin against your skin felt before he bites your neck, shoving in fully.
"S'deep... you're..."
You're a babbling mess when he pins you there, twitching inside you, cock dragging your sweet spot and kissing it over and over again. You're a drooling mess the more he moves, the more his cock rocks in and out, thickening and swelling impossibly.
"Should call him, huh baby? Let him hear your cunt he wants s'fuckin' bad," Valko can't stand it then, thinking of anyone with the girl that should be all his, every instinct on fire. "All mine, yeah baby? Breed your messy cunt till you're all mine, can't even talk, can you?"
"Mhm," you're shattering when he fucks you faster, meaner, a hand on the table bracing himself as he bites your neck till blood drips, lapping it up so his lips are crimson, moaning against your skin. "Valko... please..."
"I'll give it all to you," he's sinking his teeth again - marking you his, ones he hopes last and last, as his cock is soaked, and your tacky walls are milking him. "Fill you so full, won't be able to see anyone, will you?"
You shatter with one more drag of his fat tip, and that's when it pushes him over the edge, his knot swelling as his cum fills you to the brim, coating your walls in white. He's biting your shoulder, your neck, your arm, everywhere he can, as that fat knot stretches you, hurting so bad you're in tears - but fuck it feels good.
"So much... s'much, V-valko..." you whimper as he moves that knot, kissing all the places he's marked you, moaning softly. His tail twitches as it tickles your skin, his ears curving down.
"Perfect, f-fuck you're so... oh baby I don't think it'll go down I..." He's never had this happen, not being able to calm it down, locked and knotted so thick in your tiny cunt. He keeps kissing you, moving back a bit, hearing your little sharp breath. "Want me to keep this cum plugged inside you? Hmm, breed you, baby?"
"Yes, yes," you're drooling, looking at him with dilated eyes, all covered in his marks. "K-keep it all.. in ... your knot it's so..."
"Mhm, I know baby," he's soothing you even as he rocks it in just an inch - back and forth, until he's pressing all his cum right against your puffy lil cervix.
You're cummin' again and again, but what you don't realize is...
Valko left Caleb all of that on a voice message </3
Description: Valko enacts a sex ban and you enact your revenge. (Don't be deceived by the title. When you read this, if you've seen the movie, you'll get the reference, lol.)
WC: 3.2k
I got lost in the sauce trying to write a drabble request. I... I'll still do the drabble I SWEAR just this...OH MY FUCKING GOD...why haven't I written him utterly pathetic yet??? Well, in Good Boy I suppose a bit, but YOOOOO THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!! (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) Enjoy!
Anddd of fucking course it crossed the blurb WC cap...eh, FUCK IT!
A week earlier, when Valko playfully threatened you with a sex ban you thought it a cruel, poorly timed joke, one that he was not capable of actually sticking to. Granted, he made the statement as a result of you teasing and edging him perhaps just a tad bit too far. At first, with the way you made him beg—near cry—you thought it somewhat fair.
This, however, quickly spiraled and became wildly unfair. Despite being devoted, loving, and always ready to bend to your every whim, if you knew one thing about your boyfriend it was that he is stubborn. Intensely stubborn. For this transgression, he wanted—needed—to prove a point. The fact that he very much so enjoyed said transgression in the first place was another topic in and of itself.
***
Throughout the week since, your grasp on your sanity had well begun to slip, your cunt practically throbbing each time you merely looked in his general direction.
You were essentially screaming at him each time he strolled around the house, “Go put a shirt on!” All he offered was a laugh as he disappeared down the hall, only to later return, still, without a shirt. “Val!” He would just flash you his charming smile. It was fucking torture.
On a different day within the week, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull upon hearing him grunting within your home gym. Quietly padding backwards, you peered in, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as hard as possible to silence yourself. Despite always wearing a compression shirt, he was, yet again, shirtless, only small—too small—athletic shorts gripping over his muscled thighs, as he worked a heavily stacked barbell up…again and again…using the force and thrust of his hips. If you hadn’t already completely lost it—you certainty had then, on that visual alone. On the sound alone.
His voice was smug when he finally looked up at you standing by the door, “Yes, pup?”
“Ugh! You—!” Biting back your curses, you stormed off.
Toward the end of the week, you decided that you would have your fucking revenge—and eat it, too. Enough was enough. He would break, not you. If he thought you made him beg and cry before…
***
The following day, you find and adorn yourself with the tightest dress you own, along with a sleek pair of heels. The funny thing was that the tight dress was mostly just the cherry on top. While you knew intimately of your boyfriend’s stubbornness, you also knew of his pure weakness toward seeing you in a pair of heels. He could drop dead alone at how sexy they made your legs look. He had told you many times before, while yes, of course, your legs, there was something particular about your calves...
You stroll into the living room casually in the early evening, “Babe, I’m going out with some friends from work. I’ll be back later, okay?”
Turning his head toward you, his eyes go wide and his phone falls out of his hand and onto the couch, “Woah, woah—” he springs, nearly jumps, up from the couch, “woah— B-baby!? Y-you—”
You place your hands on your hips, cocking a brow at him. “Dressed like that!?” He stammers, admittedly in the sweetest way—not aiming to be controlling, but rather express just how flabbergasted he is, “I m-mean, you can wear w-whatever—you k-know I don’t—I’m n-not trying to—” his head shakes, his eyes snapping shut briefly, “like that!?”
You smirk, taking your hands off your hips, “Yes, Val, like this.”
“I’m— I’m—” he starts pacing around the living room by the couch, “I’m a stupid, weak man. I’m so stupid, can we please—”
You’re quick to interrupt, “Nope.” You grab the front door’s knob, a hint of humor in your tone, “Love you, bye!”
His voice is passionately desperate as you’re already making your way out, “Not even a kiss!?”
You grin at him before closing the door, “Nope!”
***
When you get back home, you’re thrilled to hear the shower running—perfect. Leaving your heels on, you slip your panties off and throw them onto the couch. When you hear the water turn off, you sit up on the floor with your back against the couch, spreading your legs and dipping your hand between your thighs.
He steps out into the hall, his hair still partially wet, and you have to keep your jaw from falling to the floor—you were going to have to be more than strong willed to pull this off. Again, with no shirt, and a pair of light colored sweats clinging low on his hips, the sight of his bulge makes your mouth instantly water. It becomes easy to start doing what you need to.
When he walks further out from the hall and spots you on the floor, his eyes go wide—his own jaw falling slack. Too bad for him, you had already picked yours up—replacing your lustful gaze for one full of determination and smugness.
He comes closer until he’s standing only a handful of steps from you, “B-baby, w-what are y-you—”
You cut him off, “How could you be so mean to me, hm?” Your voice is a tempting coo, your eyes fixed on his while his own immediately drop between your legs. “All I want is your cock inside me,” his eyes snap back up to yours, utterly dumbfounded, “and you won’t even give it to me?” You play up a pout, slowly rubbing your clit in front of him.
His voice is beyond weak, “I-I—oh my god—I’m stupid. It’s because I’m fucking stupid.” He drops to the floor, on his knees with his arms slack like he’s in visceral pain.
You nod slowly, failing to contain a devious grin at the sight of him on his knees, “Mmhm…”
He moans gutturally upon watching you slip your fingers inside your dripping cunt, immediately falling forward onto both of his hands. “I’m an i-idiot. Been s-so fucking hard this entire week. All I can smell, is you. I t-think I’m doing this to torture myself—n-not you.” You pull your fingers out and put them into your mouth, holding his gaze while you wrap your lips around your index and middle finger.
Watching helplessly, he instantly dips down while whining, pressing his forehead against the carpet like he’s praying. Or, better yet, begging for your forgiveness. You take your fingers out of your mouth and tsk at him, “Ah, ah, ah. No back tracking now. You did this to me—and yourself.”
He lifts his head again, watching your hand return between your thighs as you start to toy with your clit using just the tip of your middle finger, “I-I’m so sorry—baby. Fuck—don’t do this. I—”
You interrupt him, spreading and parting your slit with two fingers. “Look—” He does just what you ask, moaning again to the sight of you spread in front of him. Using just one finger, you glide along the length of your slit down to your entrance to collect ample slickness that sticks and pulls away from your body before snapping away from your finger. “Look how wet I am for you and you don’t even care. Not once this week.”
He groans, “S-stop—I do care. I’m so sorry, pup—p-please, let me—” As soon as he moves—crawls— your right leg extends and you press the ball of your heel against his forehead. He stops right where he is, his jaw clenching tight as he fights against making any more noise than he already has.
With the pointed heel itself hovering just in front of his mouth, your voice gets quieter but still contains a clear demand, “You’re gonna watch.”
The raw, whiny, needy, and pathetic sound that escapes his throat against his will before he speaks is immaculate, “N-no, p-please, I c-can’t.”
You grin, glancing down to his sweats and spotting the overwhelmingly obvious print of his hard cock underneath. “Oh, but you can, handsome. This was your choice.” While you speak, your leg and he slowly lowers as he completely sinks to the ground by your command, his body flat. “You’re gonna watch me fuck myself with my fingers, hm? …Just wishing it was your cock that you’ve been withholding from me.”
He’s whimpering, his elbows bent and his fists balling up beside his shoulders while he fights not to touch any part of you. “Y-you—ngh—” He moans again—loudly—when you push your fingers back inside, “Baby, you smell—you look—s-so perfect. Let me taste you—a-at least.”
You remove your heel, folding your legs toward your body to keep your knees up high and spread, “If you really wanted to taste me, you would’ve done it already this week.”
Scooting a bit closer now that your leg isn’t holding him back, he shakes his head, “N-no—I do—I always do, y-you know that. Please, just—”
You shake your head, “Mm-mm,” starting to pump your fingers in and out with intention, “hump the floor, for all I care.” A loud, shaky groan spills from his throat at the humiliating suggestion—but his hips twitch down anyway.
He becomes a stuttering, drooling mess—more than he already is, “P-please—oh my fucking god—I’m s-sorry—s-so s-sorry—”
You click your tongue, shaking your head at him again, “Look what you could have if you weren’t so mean to me, hm?”
“I’m sorry—oh my god—baby, d-don’t—I’m n-not mean—I-I—”
“Oh, but, you are. So fucking mean—mmm—making me fuck my pussy like it’s my job when it’s yours.”
He moans loudly, his eyes fixated on your fingers pushing in and out of your perfect cunt no less than a foot from his face, “I-it is mine, p-please—I’ll d-do it r-right now, just—”
Pushing your fingers as far as they’ll go, you curl them lightly and he moans at the sight while you interrupt, “No. You lost your chance. Now, you just get to watch.”
“Ah—ngh—fuck!” His fist beats softly into the carpet, his forehead pressing back against the floor.
“That doesn’t look like watching to me.”
He lifts his head back up feebly, “Baby…” Both of his hands wrap around your ankles, the look in his eyes overtly pleading, “Please…” His eyes fall back to your cunt, a pathetic and desperate lust burning in them.
Your tone is one of intense warning, “Don’t you even think about it...”
His voice becomes breathless, another slight roll from his hips into the floor, “T-this is just—”
You interrupt, scoffing, “Cruel, hm? Sounds familiar.”
He tears his eyes away from temptation to look up at you, “Oh my god—I fucked up s-so bad, pup—y-you can’t—I’ll do whatever you want.”
You grin, cocking your head to the side, “You are doing what I want, right now.”
Flicking through all of the stages of grief, “I know you want my cock, let m-me give it to you, hm?”
You raise a brow, sighing openly and simultaneously to the feeling you’re creating and to the feeling that the look of his desperation gives you, “Oh, so we’re bargaining now, is that it? Well, I’m past wanting that. I, now, just want to watch you suffer.”
He croaks, “Oh, god…”
“Mmhm—this is what you get.”
His eyes fall back to your fingers that haven’t stopped once, “Fuck—you’re so pretty, please, please—I c-can’t—I need—”
You interrupt again, “What do you need that I didn’t this past week, hm?”
“N-nothing—I-I—I’m sorry—ngh—pup!” You peer back briefly, enjoying the sight of his groin driving down into the floor over and over again.
With a thin moan, you hardly spread your two fingers apart as they’re inside you while he watches, “It’s so tight—mmm—from not having you once this week.”
Lips parted, once you continue pumping your fingers, he stares at the push and pull, your skin tight on your fingers, “H-holy shit.” You relish in the roll of his hips straight into the ground.
You let a louder moan slip, indulging in the constant burning thought over the past week of nothing but him inside you, “Mmm—your cock would feel so fucking good right now. I need it so fucking bad.”
He whines, “P-please, I’ll—”
You huff while curling your fingers, “No.”
“Ngh! Y-you—”
“Your mouth…your hands…your fingers—god, I needed them all this week—and y-you—ngh—wouldn’t give me one single thing.”
He shakes his head, “I-I—I’ll never do i-it again—baby, please.”
“I know you won’t, but mm-mm, you’re not getting off that easy.” Your eyes flutter, the heave of your chest only getting stronger, “Me on the other hand…”
You both stay silent a moment, his brows furrowed intently while watching the repeated dip of your fingers. “V-Val…mmm—”
He interrupts, “Oh, no—d-don’t you do that.”
“Do what?” Your chest heaves dramatically, his eyes watching the rise and fall momentarily, specifically the tight material clung over your chest and fitted snuggly over your breasts. “Val—ngh—oh m-my god—”
His expression becomes pained, his hips driving down again, “Stop it.”
You gasp while staring down at him, “Val—I feel like…m’gonna—”
He whines, “Quit it.”
Momentarily, your voice becomes higher pitch, “F-fuck—I’m gonna cum—”
His voice then becomes hoarse from all the whining, “Baby…”
“Oh my god—mmhm—V-Val…”
“S-stop it—baby—fuck—!” He lurches toward your ankle, his teeth sinking into your flesh before he speaks against your skin, “I’m—I’m gonna cum—h-holy shit—“ He can’t stop himself from bucking his hips down into the carpet—watching it happen, it felt like he could feel it.
“G-good—ngh—” Your fingers work faster, curling into your G-spot more frequently, “O-oh—Val—oh my god—nngh!” His eyes dart up to watch your expression brought on by your orgasm as your head falls back against the couch, his hips bucking and grinding helplessly onto the floor.
As soon as he lets go himself, he silences his release by sinking his teeth back into your ankle, “Fuck—mmmph—!”
Listening to him huff and pant, while you’re still shaking, you force yourself to recover relatively quickly, his face still down low by your leg as he shudders. You let out a light chuckle, pulling your dress down and standing back up.
Once you’re gone from the floor, he presses the side of his cheek against the carpet, “Y-you—babe—oh my god.”
Ready to walk past him, you stop and press your heel lightly into his back—he instantly moans. “Such a good boy, hm?”
***
To say the least, the following week was…intense.
Orchestrated by your demand, you both are completely bare. His back is flat against the bed and you’re straddling him, grinding your soaked slit up and down the length of his hard cock, “Pup—p-please, you c-can’t keep doing this.”
“Oh, but I can, hm? You felt no shame in withholding, so I’ll feel no shame in this.”
“Oh, god—nngh—f-fuck! I feel like m’gonna cum—”
“Good—I want you to cum all over yourself.”
You were sure to find new ways—as many as possible, actually—to make him cum without ever being inside you, without getting his mouth or his hands on you, and without you getting your mouth or hands on him, either.
This subsequent week in particular, Valko learned a new definition for the word torture.
***
Slipping into the shower, he blocks the stream of water from hitting you as his arms wrap around you and he bites your shoulder gently, “Baby—p-please, how long are you gonna keep this up?” He whimpers quietly, grinding his already hard cock against your ass.
Despite both having cum numerous times during this second week, you each felt—and were—locked in a permanent state of arousal, just waiting for it to be broken.
You shrug in his arms, running your fingertips along his forearms that are wrapped over your waist, “Hmm, at least as long as you did.”
He whines, biting your shoulder again, “It’s been longer than that!”
“Oh, has it?”
He groans, his lips pressing into your neck before speaking, “God, remind me to never piss you off again.”
“You got that right.”
“Mmm—please—I need to be inside you, right fucking now. I’m sorry—so sorry, do whatever you want, just let me feel you.” He squeezes you tighter and you instinctively begin to bend and arch, pressing yourself back against him.
“I do want your cock—mmph—so fucking bad, you have no idea.” While he’s leaning further into you, your hands press against the back wall, “B-but, I’m still so fucking mad at you.”
One of his hands leaves your waist, gently pushing down and slipping his cock between your thighs, which makes you gasp as soon as he’s between your legs, “I know, pup. I deserve it, stay mad—for as long as you want. Just—please, let me give you what you want, hm?” Pressing his chest against your back, you both starting moan at the pressure of his cock grinding against and between your slit. Already wet—constantly wet—you part for him easily. You’d been at this all week—his hard cock rubbing against you tirelessly until you both came.
You hum in contemplation, his length continuing to smooth between your slit, the head of his cock grinding against your clit, “Please—oh my god—I want you so fucking bad. I need you. You’re so fucking wet, I know you need me, too.”
Reaching between your thighs, you wrap your hand around the center of his length, guiding his tip toward your entrance, “One more time…tell me,” you push your hips back, the head of his cock gently pressing into you, “that you’ll never—ever—do it again.”
Gasping to the sensation that is long overdue, “I won’t, I w-won’t. Baby, I swear, never again. Ever.”
You bite back a moan, the utter desperation from not feeling him stretch you with his cock in over two weeks painfully peaking in this moment, “Good boy. Nngh—mmhm, go a-ahead.”
“Oh my fucking—ngh!” Both of his hands latch onto your hips quickly, driving into you while pulling you back—the end result being his cock full up inside you before you can even breath again. The whiny, loud moans that quickly pour out from each of you bounce off the shower walls and echo in the bathroom.
Trying to temper himself, each of your bodies twitching with both relief and anticipation of just getting started, “S-sorry, princess. H-holy fuck, you feel...mmm—are you okay?”
You lean in harder against the wall, a slight wiggle in your hips, enjoying—and missing, so fucking badly—the feeling of him inside you, “M-mhm, ngh—”
“I’m such a fucking asshole, but please,” he retracts his cock from you to thrust forward again, “ngh—don’t ever do this shit to me again.”
You laugh, but that sound doesn’t hold up against his thrust, a loud moan replacing it instead, “Y-you started it.”
“Mmm—I k-know. Never again. Please, forgive me, pup.”
“Hmm—nngh—y-you’re forgiven.” You tilt your head back and to the side just slightly, not able to get a complete look at him, but enough of one as you point your voice in his general direction, “Now, can you please fuck me until I can’t walk?”
His grip tightens around your hips, “Yes—mmhm—yes, I can.”
♡︎ synopsis: After a stranger’s crude comment leaves you unsettled, Valko helps you reclaim the rest of your night - and reminds you how safe and adored you feel in his arms.
♡︎ pairing: Valko x fem!reader
♡︎ tags: established relationship, fluff and smut, hurt/comfort (mild), mention of catcalling, mention of alcohol (drinking cocktails), foot massage, body worship, oral (f receiving), use of 'sweetheart' 'baby', attempt at describing lotus pose, creampie ofc, aftercare
♡︎ word count: 7.2k
♡︎ a/n: Got catcalled the other day, so I wrote this to make myself feel better lol.
♡︎ Again, thank you, @unintentionalseductress for helping, and also its-de for beta reading.
divider by @ anitalenia
The smell of your favorite takeout hits you before you even get the door fully open. Your hand stills on the handle, your bag slipping lower on your shoulder as you step inside and find Valko standing in your kitchen with the paper bags open in front of him, transferring food onto plates. A small smile tugs on your lips, because there is something ridiculous and tender about the sight of him there, too tall for the space, too broad beside your cabinets.
Valko looks up as soon as he hears you.
“There you are,” he says, his voice warm with the usual excitement.
You close the door behind you. “I’m impressed,” you say. “You were smart enough to order takeout instead of trying to cook without me.”
He huffs out a laugh, glancing down at the plates. “I know my strengths.”
You manage another smile as you take off your shoes by the door and set your bag on the small table near the entry.
In the kitchen, Valko keeps moving, the plates clinking as he finishes dividing the food. “How was it?” he asks. “You had a good time?”
You head toward the sink instead of going to him, reaching for a glass from the cabinet before you answer. “Yeah,” you say, filling it with water. “It was good.”
You take a sip of water and keep your eyes on the glass.
You hear Valko move behind you, and when you turn, he is near enough that you have to tilt your chin to meet his eyes.
“Hi,” he says, softer now, like the first greeting had not counted because he had been too far away.
“Hi,” you answer.
He leans in for the kiss he always takes when you come home to him. You give him just a quick press of your mouth to his, and then you pull back with your glass still in one hand and your other palm braced against the counter.
Valko does not comment on the kiss, but you catch the brief change in his face before he turns back toward the food, a small crease between his brows, there and gone quickly enough that you could pretend you missed it.
“So,” you say, lifting your glass again as you move closer to the food, “what did you order?”
His gaze stays on you for another moment. “The usual,” he says, reaching for one of the containers, “and something from the new place across the street because I wanted to try it.”
“Of course you did.”
“It looked good.”
“You say that about everything.”
“Not everything.” He opens another box and tips his head, considering it. “Most things.”
Despite yourself, you smile as you step beside him, looking over the spread he has arranged – the familiar dishes are there, warm and fragrant, but there are two new ones too, both still steaming as he moves them onto the plates. “Okay,” you admit, “that does look good.”
“Obviously,” he says, with the confidence of someone taking credit for cooking it himself. “And if we’re having cocktails later, we should eat properly first. Especially you.”
You let out a small chuckle, setting your glass down. “Yeah, yeah. You’re probably right.”
Valko asks if you want to eat at the table or on the sofa, and you say, “Sofa’s fine,” without really looking at him.
This time, he does not move back to the food.
You notice the way he turns fully toward you instead of only glancing over.
“Okay,” he says, his voice lower now. “What’s wrong?”
You shrug too quickly. “Nothing.”
His eyes stay on your face. “I know you.”
“It’s really not a big deal.”
“Then tell me.”
You breathe out through your nose and look away first, because the last thing you want is to drag the ugliness of it into your kitchen. Still, the words come out after a moment, plain and clipped, enough to explain but not enough to make a whole scene out of it. You tell him that, on your way back, some jerk threw a crude comment at you, that you ignored him, that it annoyed you more than you wanted it to, and that it was stupid anyway.
By the time you finish, your own mouth has twisted with irritation.
“Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head as if that can knock the feeling loose. “It doesn’t matter – ”
When you glance at Valko, the look on his face makes the rest of the sentence disappear.
His jaw has gone tight, the easy warmth from a minute ago pulled into something harder and much less familiar. You have seen him annoyed before, but this is different.
“It’s not nothing,” he says.
The roughness in his voice catches you off guard, even though you know it’s not aimed at you.
You shrug again. “It’s fine. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last, so there’s no point making it into something.”
“Don’t do that.”
You pause.
His tone has gone firmer, and when you look back at him, his attention has not moved from you. For a second, neither of you speaks. His expression shifts into something more careful, and his shoulders ease a little as he reaches for you.
Your body moves before the rest of you catches up.
You take a small step to the side, barely anything, but enough for his hands to stop between you.
You turn toward the counter, taking the plate. “It’s not worth thinking about,” you say, a little too lightly. “Let’s just eat.”
For a moment, you can feel him watching you, and you keep your attention on the food. Then he picks up his own plate and follows you to the sofa, giving you enough room to sit first before he settles beside you.
The TV comes on a minute later, filling the silence. Valko eats beside you, quieter than usual, though his attention keeps coming back to you.
Instead of pressing you further about what happened, he asks about your friend.
The question helps more than you expect. You tell him about the bookstores you wandered into and the café you found by accident, all pretty lights and beautiful little details, with coffee that was better than you expected and dessert good enough to make you regret not ordering a second one.
As you talk, the better parts of the day start coming back in pieces.
You remember the table by the window, the sound of your friend laughing across from you, and the comfort of staying longer than planned because, for once, neither of you seemed to be rushing anywhere.
He listens like the details matter.
You are grateful he doesn’t ask why you stayed out longer than you said you would. He could have. The two of you had plans, and he had still come over on time, still ordered dinner, still waited in your apartment while you turned an afternoon coffee into nearly three hours outside. Instead of making you feel guilty for enjoying it, he seems pleased that you did.
You tell him about the lipstick your friend gave you. “She gave it to me because she thought the color would suit me,” you say, glancing toward your bag near the entryway. “It’s still in my purse.”
Then your gaze drifts to him.
He is already dressed for later, and you notice it properly now that you are sitting beside him. He looks handsome enough that, on any other night, you would have teased him for it immediately, just to see the pleased little spark in his face when he realized you had been looking.
You glance down at your plate instead. “You know, we don’t really have to go out.”
Valko turns his head toward you.
“We can just stay in,” you continue, already reaching for a lighter tone. “We still have food, and we could try to make dessert or do some terrible homemade cocktails. Then we can just cuddle and watch something.”
You expect him to agree before you finish speaking.
Valko has never needed much convincing to stay close to you for hours, especially when there is food, a sofa, and an excuse to tuck himself around you until you can barely move. It is one of the things you love about him, how openly he wants the simple comfort of being near you, how little shame he has about reaching for it.
Instead, he pauses.
His face shifts into something more serious, and the change is small enough that anyone else might miss it. You do not.
“Do you want to stay in,” he asks, “or do you just not want to be seen tonight?”
You stare at him for a second. Part of you wants to be annoyed that he did not take the offer, because staying in would be warm and easy and comfortable. Another part of you knows this should not surprise you at all. Valko is sweet, almost painfully so sometimes, but he has never been the kind of sweet that lets you hide behind a convenient lie.
You look away first. “I’m a little tired.”
He keeps his attention on you.
“I know you dressed up,” you add, softer now. “Sorry, I just – ”
“That doesn’t matter.”
You stop.
He sets his plate on the coffee table and turns more toward you. “If you’re tired, we stay here. I’ll make bad drinks, you can tell me they’re bad, and I’ll still pretend I did well.” His mouth curves slightly, though his eyes stay serious. “But I’m asking if that’s the real reason.”
You press your lips together.
He waits, and somehow that makes it harder.
After a moment, you stand and take both plates. “I’m just going to rinse these.”
Valko lets you go, then follows with the empty glasses, taking his place beside you at the sink. The two of you work in silence for a minute, you rinsing, him clearing the leftovers and wiping the counter, the routine familiar.
Then he speaks more quietly.
“We can go out,” he says. “You can wear whatever you wanted to wear.”
Your hands slow under the warm water.
“I’ll be there,” he adds. “You can just enjoy your night. If someone wants to be stupid, I’ll handle it.”
The words warm your heart, and this time the smile that comes to your face feels genuine.
The question is still there, waiting for an answer you do not have yet.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” you say.
Valko nods. “Okay.”
*
By the time you come out of the bedroom, your skin is glistening from the body lotion, your makeup is fixed, and the dress you picked for tonight is smoothed down over your thighs, though the zipper sits open along your back where you couldn’t reach it.
You pause in the doorway with one hand holding the fabric in place.
The living room has changed while you were gone. Only the lamps are on now, with pillows and a blanket spread across the sofa and a TV show playing quietly in the background. Valko’s waiting on the sofa, and when he sees you, his attention lifts immediately, his face easing into a smile that is softer than his usual grin.
You suddenly feel a little shy standing there with your back half-open and your dress held together by your fingers.
“Can you zip me up, please?” you ask.
Valko stands without making you ask twice.
His fingers find the zipper carefully, and his other hand settles near your shoulder blade just long enough to keep the fabric steady.
When he finishes, he lets his hands fall away before you turn to face him.
“So,” he says, looking you over with a small smile, “we’re going out.”
You nod, smoothing your hands down the front of the dress. “Yes. Unless you really want to stay in now.” Your gaze flicks toward the sofa, the blanket, the pillows, the room made soft for you. “It looks like you already started getting comfortable.”
Valko shakes his head. “I was ready for either answer.”
That makes something in your chest loosen.
His eyes move over your face, then settle on your lips. “Do you need to finish your makeup?”
“Oh.” You glance toward your bag. “Yes, actually.”
Valko stays where he is while you use the mirror by the door, giving you space to apply it without leaning over your shoulder.
You press your lips together, studying the color first, then the rest of your reflection. A pleased smile forms on your lips, your posture straightening a little as you look at yourself.
“There she is,” Valko says softly.
You turn toward him, suddenly flustered by the realization that you were almost posing in front of the mirror while he watched.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thank you,” you say softly, your cheeks still a little warm.
Shortly after, you leave the apartment together.
*
By the time you return to the apartment, the warmth from the cocktails has already begun to fade, leaving behind only a pleasant looseness in your body and the ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.
Valko holds the door open for you, and you step inside with your heels clicking softly against the floor. After he slips out of his shoes, he heads towards the kitchen while you stay at the entryway, still taking off your heels.
While he pours the water, you look at him properly.
You had noticed him before you left, of course, but now you let yourself linger on it – the way his hair has fallen slightly out of place, the fabric of his shirt pulling around his biceps, the rolled sleeves showing his forearms. He looks unfairly handsome like this, and the sight of him makes something sweet spread through you.
When he comes closer and hands you a glass, he catches you staring.
“What?” he asks, smiling because your expression must be giving you away.
You take the water from him and let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing.” His eyes narrow playfully. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” You take a sip, then lower the glass, still smiling at him over the rim. “I was just thinking that you look really handsome tonight.”
The faintest color rises in his face.
“I see the alcohol is still in your system,” he says.
You roll your eyes. “It’s mostly gone.”
“Mostly?”
“I can feel my feet again,” you say, glancing down at your feet. “That’s how I know.”
Valko laughs under his breath.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” Valko says, taking the glass from your hand before you can ask why.
You let him lead you to the sofa, where he drapes a blanket over your lap.
“Stay here,” he says.
“Where else would I go?”
“With you, I never know.”
You make a face at him, but he only smiles and disappears toward the bathroom.
For a minute, you sit there with the TV playing in front of you, your glass of water waiting on the coffee table. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, the rush of water, the opening and closing of a cabinet.
When he returns, he’s carrying a basin filled with warm water, faintly cloudy from the bath salts dissolving inside.
Your expression softens. “Valko.”
“What?” he says, setting it carefully on the floor in front of the sofa. “Your feet hurt.”
You look down at the water, then back at him, and the fondness in your chest feels almost too full for something so simple. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
You dip your feet into the basin, and the first touch of warm water makes your eyes close for a second as you sink deeper into the sofa.
Valko sits next to you, looking a little pleased with himself.
By the time the episode ends, the water has cooled and your whole body feels heavier in the best way, softened by the warmth, the drinks, and the steady comfort of Valko’s presence beside you.
He gets up before you can decide whether you should move, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel in his hands. When he sits back down, he spreads it over his lap, then pats it lightly.
“Feet here.”
You lift your feet from the basin and place them over the towel on his lap. Valko wraps the towel around one foot first, drying you with gentle movements, then does the same with the other. He folds the damp towel aside and places your foot between his hands, pressing his thumbs into the sole.
“Oh,” you breathe, your head falling back against the cushion. “That feels really good.”
His mouth curves, but he keeps his eyes on what he is doing. “Good.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
The TV keeps playing, though you stop following the episode after a while.
Your attention drifts instead to his hands, to the way they move over your foot and up to your ankle, then higher to your calf when he shifts closer and draws your leg a little more securely across his lap.
A soft smile stays on your face.
You look from his hands to his profile, letting yourself linger on the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He looks calmer now than he had earlier, though there is still something attentive in him, something that keeps checking on you without needing to ask every few minutes.
Valko’s thumb presses into a tender spot near your heel, and you let out a small sound.
He glances at you.
You clear your throat and look back at the TV as if you have been paying attention the whole time.
His smile deepens, but he says nothing, only continues the massage on the other foot with the same patience.
After a while, Valko’s hands slow, his thumbs resting lightly against your arch as the episode continues playing in front of you.
You draw your legs back slowly, feet settling on the floor as you turn toward him. Valko’s gaze follows, shifting from your face to the way you’re leaning closer now.
“Tired?” he asks, softer than before.
You shake your head. “Not yet.”
Your eyes drift to his lips. When you glance up, he’s already watching you with that adoring gaze that stirs butterflies in your chest. He leans in just a fraction, then holds there, waiting.
So you close the rest of the distance yourself.
The first kiss is gentle, almost testing, your mouth brushing his before you press closer. Valko answers immediately, one hand lifting toward your back while the other stays on the sofa, giving you room to decide how much of him you want.
You kiss him again, longer this time, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his mouth, and the low sound he makes when you lean in more fully sends a pleased little shiver through your body.
After a few moments, you sit up and move before you can overthink it, swinging one leg over his lap until you are straddling him.
You slide your hands to his shoulders, then up to the sides of his neck, feeling him beneath your palms, solid and close and real. His hands settle against your back and pull you nearer before one slides down to your calf, almost absentmindedly, his fingers finding the same sore place he had been working on before. The touch is still gentle, still soothing, but now it runs through you differently as his thumb presses into your skin while his mouth moves over yours.
A small sound slips from you.
Valko’s hand pauses for half a second, then continues, slower than before.
You smile into the kiss, and he catches it, his mouth curving against yours as his palm slides along your calf. Your dress rides higher over your thighs as your fingers curl lightly at the back of his neck, and every slow movement of his hand makes you lean into him more.
Your heart beats harder in your chest, a sweet ache spreading low in your belly as his fingers trace idle patterns along your skin. You pull back just a little, and the words slip out in a soft whisper against his lips.
“Take me to the bedroom.”
Valko’s breath catches for the briefest moment, and then his arms tighten around you – one hand splaying across your lower back while the other cradles your thigh. “Hold onto me,” he murmurs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape, and hook your legs around his waist as he rises from the sofa with effortless ease, as if you weigh nothing at all. The movement presses you even closer, your chest flush against his as his arms hold you securely, his mouth never leaving yours.
When he reaches the bedroom, the lamplight from the living room spills through the doorway, casting warm shadows across the bed. Valko sits down on the edge of the mattress with you still wrapped around him, so you settle easily back into his lap, straddling him once more.
His hands stay gentle at your waist, holding you steady on his lap as the kiss lingers between you. Being this close to him makes something in you ache softly for more. When you finally draw back enough to speak, your lips brush his.
“Unzip me, please.”
He does not hesitate. One hand leaves your waist and finds the zipper at the small of your back. He takes his time, pulling the zipper all the way down before his palm rests lightly against the bare skin he has uncovered.
Only then do you break the kiss. You rise just enough to slide the dress from your shoulders and over your hips. You step out of it slowly, standing before him in the lamplight while his gaze follows every movement.
You unhook your bra next, the straps slipping from your shoulders, and you let the garment fall away. Valko’s breath leaves him in a low, appreciative sound, but he does not reach for you yet. He waits, watching as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and ease them down your legs. They join the rest of your clothing on the floor, and when you straighten again you are bare before him – every inch of skin touched by the soft light and the heat of his undivided attention.
A quiet thrill moves through you at the way he looks at you, like you are something precious he has been given permission to cherish.
You take a step toward him, ready to return to his lap, but his fingers wrap gently around your wrist before you can climb back onto the bed. The touch is light, yet it stills you completely. He draws your hand toward him and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, then turns it over and brushes his lips against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. The touch sends a small shiver up your arm.
Without a word, he guides you closer to the bed. His hands settle at your waist as he helps you onto the mattress, and you lie back against the pillows.
He lifts one of your legs, his mouth finding your ankle with a slow press of lips before he gives the other the same lingering attention. Then the heat of his mouth trails upward, each kiss drawing closer, and something low in your stomach tightens with anticipation.
You watch him as he settles between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The first slow drag of his tongue through your folds makes your breath hitch. He does it again, firmer this time, and your thighs instinctively part wider for him.
His hands slide under your hips, holding you steady as he licks into you with more purpose now – slow, thorough strokes that have you growing slicker by the second. When he finally seals his lips around your clit and sucks, your back arches hard off the bed with a broken moan.
Your fingers thread into his hair as your hips start to move on their own, rolling against his mouth. Valko groans at the movement, gripping your hips harder and letting you grind against his tongue, meeting every roll of your body.
The pleasure builds fast now. Every stroke of his tongue, every time he sucks on your clit, sends sparks racing through you. You can feel how wet you are, how easily his mouth moves against you. Your moans grow breathier, your thighs starting to tremble around his head as the tension coils tighter in your stomach.
You keep your eyes on him the whole time. His gaze is locked on your face, but there’s a new tension in his expression now – his pupils are blown, brows drawn, like he’s fighting to stay focused on you while his own hunger bleeds through.
And then you notice the rest of him.
His hips are moving in small, involuntary thrusts against the mattress, rutting into the bed in time with the way his mouth works over you. The sight of it – how turned on he is just from tasting you – makes you clench hard around nothing.
His name slips from your lips in a broken moan, soft at first and then louder as the heat inside you coils tighter and tighter. Valko answers with a low sound against your soaked folds, and then he murmurs right against your skin.
“I can feel you getting close... Come on my tongue, baby – I want to taste you when you do.”
One of his hands finds yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tight. Your hips move faster now, grinding down against his mouth with desperate little rolls. The moment his lips close around your clit again, the tension finally snaps.
It rolls through you in heavy, pulsing waves. Your thighs shake around his head as your fingers tighten in his hair, and a string of broken, breathless sounds spill from your lips – his name tangled with soft, incoherent praise you barely register saying.
A deep, rough groan tears from his throat as his hips jerk harder against the mattress, the movement no longer small or controlled, and the hand holding yours tightens. His eyes stay locked on your face even as they darken further, that faint crease between his brows deepening as he fights to keep his focus on you.
The knowledge that your broken praise is undoing him only makes the pleasure burn hotter, dragging another helpless moan from your throat as the last ripples of your orgasm roll through you.
For a little while, neither of you speaks. Your body feels pleasantly spent, your fingers still loosely threaded with his while your other hand moves slowly through his hair in gentle, absent strokes. Valko stays exactly where he is, his breath warm and uneven against your soaked skin. For a long moment he doesn’t move, only presses soothing kisses along the inside of your thigh, then higher, brushing his lips over the soft curve of your stomach and the sensitive crease where your hip meets your leg.
Then, instead of rising, he begins to kiss lower again.
His mouth trails back down, lips parting against your still-sensitive folds as if it is the most natural thing in the world for him to keep going.
Your fingers tighten in his hair.
“Valko,” you breathe, your voice still shaky.
He lifts his head immediately, eyes finding yours.
You swallow, your hand sliding from his hair to gently touch his jaw.
“Come here,” you say softly.
His voice comes out low and rough. “I am here.”
You shake your head, a small, almost shy smile tugging at your lips.
“Up here.”
He hesitates for a second – just long enough for you to see the way he is still caught in that deep, giving place he goes to when he has his mouth on you. Then, slowly, he begins to crawl up your body, pressing kisses as he goes. His mouth moves over your stomach, the center of your chest, your breasts.
When he finally reaches the crook of your neck, he pauses there, nuzzling into the warm space under your jaw, his nose brushing your skin as he breathes you in.
You stay like that for a while, your fingers still moving slowly through his hair while his face remains tucked against your neck.
After a moment, you speak, your voice soft and a little hoarse.
“Are you planning on taking those clothes off at some point?”
Valko lets out a quiet huff of laughter against your neck.
He lifts his head, and you see the familiar teasing smile on his lips. “Why?” he asks. “Do you want me to?”
You roll your eyes, but the smile that follows gives you away completely. Your hand slides from his hair down to the back of his neck as you pull him closer until your lips are almost brushing his.
“I need to feel you against my skin,” you whisper. “I need your warmth. Your everything.”
The teasing in his expression softens. His hand tightens gently around yours where your fingers are still linked.
Valko doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he kisses you once more before pulling back to sit up. You watch as he reaches for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers working them open one by one. The fabric parts gradually, revealing his chest and the defined muscles of his torso. He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders and lets it fall somewhere beside the bed, never once breaking eye contact with you.
When his hands move to his belt, the quiet clink of metal and the slow drag of leather send a fresh, unexpected flutter through your already sensitive core, making your thighs press together. He notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts before he finishes undoing his belt and pushes both his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.
He steps out of the last of his clothes and returns to the bed completely bare.
The sight of him makes your breath catch. In the dim light, his cock stands thick and flushed a deep, aching red, the head glistening with precum that has already begun to leak down the shaft. He braces himself above you on one forearm before lowering his body until his full weight settles over you. The pressure is immediate and sweet, sinking into your skin and muscles in the most comforting way. His mouth finds yours at the same time, lips locking in a hungry kiss as his tongue slides against yours. You can taste yourself on him, and the realization only makes you kiss him harder, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as you hold him close.
When you wrap your legs around his hips, the movement drags the thick length of his cock through your soaked folds. The blunt head nudges against your clit, and a broken moan slips from your throat into his mouth. He’s so hot and heavy against you, the underside of his cock gliding through your wetness with every small shift of his body.
You start to move first.
Your hips roll upward in a slow grind, coating the length with your arousal and his saliva. He follows your rhythm, the tip nudging just barely at your entrance before sliding past again, teasing you both with how close he is to sinking inside.
“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “I want to feel all of you.”
You spread your legs wider for him, opening yourself completely as he begins to ease inside, slowly and carefully. The stretch is intense and delicious, your body yielding to him while his eyes stay locked on your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your expression.
Your arms wrap tighter around him, one hand sliding up to grip the back of his neck while the other stays curled on his shoulder. He holds you just as close, one arm braced beside your head, the other sliding under your back to pull you flush against him as he sinks deeper.
“You okay like this?” he asks quietly.
When you nod, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye. He stays there for a moment, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he just breathes with you.
Then, slowly, he begins to pull back – almost slipping out – before sinking back in. The movement pulls a soft sound from your throat, your hips lifting instinctively to meet him.
He picks up the pace gradually, each thrust growing a little heavier, a little deeper. Your arms stay wrapped tightly around him, holding him close as soft moans spill from your lips with every stroke. The heat between you builds quickly – the slick drag of his cock inside you, the way his pelvis grinds against your clit on every downward thrust, the way his breath fans hot across your mouth.
You can feel how close he is.
It’s in the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, in the tension locked through his shoulders, in the rough, broken groans that escape him. His face is tight with pleasure, brows drawn, jaw clenched as he fights to keep control.
You whisper against his lips.
“You can let go… I want you to. Don’t hold back.”
Valko shakes his head once.
“No,” he breathes. “I just… want to savor this a little longer.”
After a moment, Valko shifts his weight and wraps both arms tightly around your torso. In one smooth motion he sits up, bringing you with him until he’s kneeling on the mattress with you straddling his lap. Your legs instinctively wrap around him as you adjust, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your chests press flush together. The new angle makes him sink even deeper inside you, and the sudden fullness draws a breathless moan from your lips.
He holds you close – one strong arm wrapped around your back, the other hand gripping the curve of your ass, keeping you anchored against him. Your bare skin slides against his with every breath, your nipples brushing his chest. Neither of you speaks for a moment. You simply breathe each other in, bodies locked tight, his cock pulsing deep inside you while your arms stay wrapped around his shoulders like you never want to let go.
You begin to move first, rocking slowly against him.
Valko lets out a low, guttural sound the second you start moving. He kisses you again, but this time there’s nothing controlled about it – his tongue pushes past your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours in a wet, hungry glide. The kiss turns messy fast. It’s all heat and spit, the wet sound of it mixing with the low groans rumbling from his chest as his teeth catch your bottom lip, grazing, nipping.
His hand on your ass tightens, fingers spreading wide as he begins to guide you. The motion stays shallow, limited by how tightly you’re pressed together, but even with how little you can move, it feels devastatingly good. Every slow circle of your hips makes his cock rub against that sensitive spot inside you while your clit drags over his pelvis, slick and swollen and aching.
“That’s it… take what you need,” he murmurs against your lips. “I love feeling you like this.”
The fullness is constant, overwhelming in the best way – every tiny shift of your body makes you feel stretched around him. Your nipples slip and slide against his sweat-damp chest with every movement, the friction making your body grow hotter.
“I can feel how close you are,” he murmurs against your lips. “I can hear it in the way you moan for me. You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”
You can only whimper in response, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold on. You can feel how close he is too – the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, the tension coiled so tightly through his body, the way his breathing has turned ragged and uneven. He’s holding back, barely, and it only makes you want to push him over the edge with you.
You shift your legs, planting your feet flat on the mattress on either side of his hips. The change in angle lets you lift yourself higher, and when you sink back down, you take his thick length even deeper than before. The helpless, strained whimper that tears from Valko’s throat makes your pussy cream around him, slick and messy. His forehead drops to your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your damp skin as his arms tighten around you like he’s trying to hold himself together.
Valko lets out another broken sound against your neck as you start lifting and dropping on him. His arms lock tighter around you as he tries – and fails – to keep guiding your hips the way he was before. The new angle has him sinking impossibly deep with every stroke, and a wrecked groan tears from his throat.
“Fuck – you feel too good,” he pants, voice strained. “I’m trying to let you have this… but – ha-ah – you’re gonna make me lose it.”
You slide one hand up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair as you roll your hips again, using your new leverage to grind down on him harder.
“I want you to come,” you breathe. “I need it. I need to feel you.”
That’s all it takes.
Valko’s hand squeezes your ass in a bruising grip as his hips jerk up to meet yours in short, desperate thrusts. His mouth latches onto the side of your neck, sucking hard while his tongue drags over your skin between bites. His sweaty chest slides against yours with every desperate grind, your nipples dragging over the slick, overheated skin. His pelvis is soaked with your arousal, and every roll of your hips grinds it firmly against your swollen clit, sending sharp, relentless sparks racing through your entire body. The combination is too much – the way he stretches you open with every thrust and the constant, filthy pressure on your clit. It builds so fast it feels dizzying.
Your climax crashes into you with overwhelming force.
A silent whimper catches in your throat before it breaks into a loud, shattered moan. Your walls clamp down around him in hard, rhythmic pulses, your thighs shaking as your fingers dig into his shoulders. The pleasure is blinding, ripping through you so intensely that all you can do is cling to him, your body trembling as wave after wave crashes over you.
Valko’s arms lock around you the second your orgasm hits. His forehead presses hard into your shoulder as his cock throbs violently inside you, and you feel the way your pussy squeezes around him, milking him. His whole body goes tense, muscles straining as he fights to hold on for just a few more seconds.
“That’s it – I’ve got you –” His voice cracks. “Just hold onto me – please – ”
His breath hitches.
He yanks your hips down hard and holds you there as he starts to come. You feel every thick pulse of his cock as he fills you – hot spurts that seem to go on and on while he keeps grinding you against him through it. His mouth finds yours in a breathless, messy kiss, all tongue, groans, and the sharp graze of teeth. He kisses you like he’s drowning as he empties himself inside you in thick, relentless waves.
He holds you so tightly against his sweat-slick body that you feel every tremor run through him, his cock still twitching and spilling deep inside you.
For a long moment, neither of you moves. You just stay like that, chests pressed together, breathing hard against each other’s skin. Then Valko tilts his head and kisses you again – slower this time, softer, lingering. When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, then higher, brushing his lips against your cheek.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “More than okay.”
He makes a soft sound of relief and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing your skin as he just breathes you in. You smile against his hair, your fingers grazing his undercut… until a dull, tingling ache starts to spread through your thighs.
You shift a little, wincing. “Okay, wait. My legs are going numb.”
Valko lifts his head, blinking at you for a second. Then a quiet chuckle rumbles out of him.
He carefully helps you untangle your legs from around his waist, one hand supporting your lower back while the other guides you down onto the mattress. You stretch out with a soft sigh of relief, the sheets cool against your overheated skin. Valko stays close for a second longer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
“Don’t move,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into the bathroom and returns a moment later with a warm, damp towel. You feel a little flustered when he settles between your legs again, but the look on his face is so gentle and focused that you don’t stop him. He cleans you with careful strokes, the warmth of the cloth soothing against your skin.
When the towel grazes your still-sensitive folds, you flinch a little.
“Shh,” Valko soothes, caressing your thigh with his free hand. “Just a little more.”
He finishes with the same tender care, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to the inside of your knee.
“There,” he says, tossing the towel aside. “All clean.”
He crawls back up the bed and pulls you into his arms again, tucking your head under his chin. One hand starts slowly stroking up and down your back, warm and steady.
He murmurs your name against your hair, barely more than a breath. “You okay? Really?”
You nod, your cheek pressed to his chest. “Yeah… Just a little floaty.”
He makes a pleased sound and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“Good,” he says quietly. “You were so beautiful like that. I loved every second of it.”
You smile against his skin, a little shy. “You didn’t have to clean me up, you know.”
“I wanted to.” His fingers keep tracing slow paths along your spine. “I like taking care of you.”
There’s a short, comfortable silence. Then he shifts just enough so he can look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek.
“You need anything?” he asks. “Water? Snacks? Or just me?”
You laugh softly and burrow closer. “Just you, baby.”
He chuckles and wraps both arms around you more securely.
“Alright then,” he says, settling back against the pillows with you. “You’ve got me.”
He kisses your forehead once more and then just holds you, his breathing slowly evening out as his hand continues its gentle path up and down your back.
♡︎ synopsis: Jet-lagged and wide awake long past midnight, you let Valko invite himself over to keep you company. What starts as a friendly, playful hangout slowly turns into something much more intimate.
♡︎ pairing: Valko x fem!reader
♡︎ tags: friends to lovers, making out, dry humping, use of 'sweetheart' 'baby' 'pretty girl', cowgirl, creampie ofc
♡︎ word count: 8k
♡︎ a/n: After the announcement we got last week, I ofc had to write something for Valko. I hope you like how I wrote him.
It took me over 8 hours to edit this fic, so if you don't like something or if there are any errors, I don't wanna know <3
♡︎ I wanna thank @unintentionalseductress for helping, and my beta reader its-de who doesn't have an account anymore (🙄).
divider by @anitalenia
The glow of the television washes the living room in soft, shifting light, some familiar comfort show murmuring in the background as you sink deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment still carries that faint in-between feeling that always follows a trip, your half-unpacked suitcase sitting by the wall, your carry-on slouched near the entryway. You scroll through Moments without really seeing much of it, your thumb moving on autopilot as photos and captions blur together, and when your eyes flick to the time in the corner of the screen, a quiet sigh leaves you – it’s past midnight. You only got back yesterday, but it annoys you that your body still refuses to remember what time zone it belongs to.
With a small frown, you toss your phone beside you, only to reach for it again a few seconds later. Sleep feels nowhere near, but so does doing anything useful. Your gaze drifts back to the screen, catching on the photo you posted from the trip a few hours ago. For a moment, you just stare at it, thumb hovering near the comments before you see a new notification at the top of your screen, and your breath catches.
Valko.
You stare at his name for a second before tapping on the message, your pulse giving one traitorous flutter as the chat opens.
‘Why are you still up??’
Your finger lingers above the keyboard, a smile already tugging at your lips, before you type back.
‘Why are you up?’
His reply comes quickly.
‘I asked you first.’
A quiet laugh slips out of you.
You shift further into the corner of the sofa, glancing toward the television even though you are no longer paying attention to whatever scene is playing out on the screen.
‘I’m still a little jet-lagged. Can’t sleep.’
For a few seconds, nothing happens.
Your thumb brushes the edge of your phone as you stare at the screen, suddenly wondering whether that sounded too flat. Maybe you should have added something else. Maybe –
Another message appears.
‘Then can I come over and keep you company?’
You sit up so quickly the blanket pooled over your legs slips halfway to the floor.
For a moment, you can only stare at the words – it’s such a simple message, but the thought of Valko here, in your apartment, at this hour, sends a rush through you that makes it impossible to stay curled up on the sofa like nothing happened.
You try to sound casual as you type back.
‘Sure.’
His answer appears almost immediately.
‘I’ll be there in twenty.’
Your eyes widen.
Twenty?
You glance down at yourself, at the pajamas you changed into after your shower. You push yourself off the sofa, hurrying to the bathroom to make yourself more presentable.
By the time you step back into the living room, changed into your new loungewear – an oversized sweater and a pair of shorts – and a light layer of makeup, your heartbeat has still not quite calmed down.
And then you nearly jump out of your skin.
There, just beyond the glass, Valko is already waiting outside on the balcony.
Your hand flies to your chest before you let out a quiet breath, your nerves settling almost as quickly as they spiked. What did you expect? Of course he used the balcony again, like it is a perfectly normal substitute for a front door.
You step closer and slide the door open. Before he can even get a word out, you point toward the entryway and try your best to sound serious.
“You need to immediately take off your shoes and put them by the front door like any other normal person would.”
A grin pulls at his mouth, and a soft chuckle slips from him as he steps inside. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” you say, with as much dignity as you can manage, even though you already feel far too giddy to properly stay in character. “Those are the rules.”
He does exactly as he’s told, walking over to the front door to slip off his shoes and leave them neatly where they should be.
You don’t really get a chance to say anything before he closes the distance between you and pulls you into a hug.
It’s warm and almost a little too tight, the kind of hug that steals your breath for a second, but you don’t care, not when his arms are around you like this. You tuck your face against his chest, breathing him in, and something in your chest loosens.
You missed this. Two weeks wasn’t even that long, but the moment his arms close around you, it hits you how much you’d been craving this exact feeling. The solid warmth of his body, the way he hugs like he means it, the faint familiar scent of his skin.
You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping he can’t feel how reluctant you are to let go.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against the top of your head.
A smile presses against his chest.
“I’m happy to hear that,” you say softly.
His arms loosen just enough for him to pull back and look at you, though his hands still linger at your waist.
“Only happy to hear that?” he asks, head tilting just a little. “You didn’t miss me at all?”
Your heart gives another hard, hopeless thud.
With the way he is looking at you, warm and teasing and still standing too close, it’s hard to hold onto any version of coolness for very long. So you say nothing, only glance away as if that will somehow hide the fact that your pulse is stumbling all over itself.
When he finally lets you go, the loss of his warmth feels immediate. His gaze flickers over you. It’s brief, almost nothing at all, but you catch it anyway – the quick dip of his eyes, the split-second pause that lingers just a touch too long before he looks back up.
Heat stirs low in your stomach.
If he noticed the bare stretch of your legs beneath the sweater, he does not say it.
Then his gaze drifts past you, over the living room.
You follow it, and only then do you properly take in the small signs of the last two days still scattered around the apartment. It’s not a mess, but it’s enough to make you realize, with a small jolt of horror, that while you had been busy changing, fixing your face, and deciding whether those shorts were too much, it had not once occurred to you to make the place look more presentable.
Valko glances back at you, amusement already tugging at his mouth. “You really made yourself at home.”
You stare at him.
Then at the open suitcase, then back at him.
“I – ” You stop, because there is truly no dignified recovery from this. “I just got back.”
His laugh is soft and boyish, bright with amusement, and before you can fumble your way into a proper defense, his hand comes up to rest lightly on your shoulder.
“I’m teasing,” he says. “Relax.”
Something in your chest loosens at once, though the embarrassment still lingers warm at your cheeks.
“You’re annoying,” you mutter, without much conviction.
He only grins and walks past you toward the sofa, entirely too pleased with himself, and drops down onto it, one arm spreading along the backrest.
You stand there for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he’s in your apartment, at almost one in the morning. Instead of sitting down beside him, you linger on your feet and start folding the few clothes left draped over the armchair, because you need something to do with your hands.
For a little while, the conversation comes easily – you ask him what he was doing up so late, and he tells you he got caught up researching something and lost track of time, and then he asks you how the trip was. As you smooth one of the shirts between your hands, you tell him that it was beautiful, that you enjoyed it more than you expected, that you and your friends managed to explore a few cities in between all the wedding preparations, though by the end of it you were exhausted from helping with everything. Even so, you admit that it had been worth it, because seeing your friend that happy, that deeply in love, had made all of it feel strangely tender and a little overwhelming in the best way.
The words trail off there for a second, because the memory rises too clearly, your friend smiling through tears, music drifting through warm evening air, the soft gold of the lights, the feeling of standing just outside someone else’s happiness and being moved by it anyway. You pause with the folded fabric still in your hands. When you look up, Valko is already watching you in that way of his that makes it seem like he notices more than he lets on.
So you shake yourself out of it before the moment can linger too long, and with a softer laugh, you steer the conversation somewhere lighter, telling him that the food alone had probably been worth the trip, and that you would have enjoyed it even more if you had not managed to spill some of it on your dress before the night was over.
“That’s a shame,” he says. “You looked beautiful.”
A soft flutter moves through your stomach, and for a brief second, you remember the small rush of giddiness you felt earlier when the notification popped up and you saw that he had liked the photo. Heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you murmur.
You clear your throat softly and glance toward the suitcase.
“Oh, right,” you say. “I almost forgot.”
His brows lift a little as you cross the room and crouch beside the half-open case, pushing aside a few last things until your fingers find what you had tucked in carefully. When you straighten again, you are holding a small sachet of dried flowers and a box of chocolates.
Valko watches you come back toward him, his expression shifting into mild confusion. “What’s that?”
You stop in front of him and hold the two things out. “A gift for you,” you say, “The flowers are from a little shop near where we stayed,” you explain. “They smelled really good, and they made me think of you. And the chocolates are from a local chocolaterie.”
A quiet breath leaves him, almost like a laugh, though there is something more touched than amused in it.
“That’s... really nice of you,” he says. “Thank you.”
You shrug. “It’s nothing.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not nothing.”
Before you can answer, he reaches for you.
His hand catches your wrist gently and tugs you closer, and the next thing you know, you are half stumbling onto the sofa as he pulls you down beside him and gathers you into another hug, and a startled little laugh slips out of you.
His cheek brushes your temple, and then his lips do too. “You’re sweet,” he murmurs.
For a moment, you simply let yourself stay there, tucked against him on the sofa.
“So,” he says, leaning back, “are you feeling sleepy yet?”
You shake your head. “Not at all. I’m wide awake.”
His gaze lifts toward the digital clock on the wall, and the faint crease that appears between his brows makes you want to laugh a little. “It’s past one,” he says, glancing back at you. “That’s a problem.”
You tilt your head. “Is it?”
“Yes,” he says, with enough seriousness to make the corners of your mouth twitch. “It is. We need to get you to sleep.”
Your lips pull into a small pout. “But you said you wanted to keep me company.”
His expression softens with amusement. “I do want to keep you company, but you should really get your sleep sorted out.”
The pout lingers, growing just enough to make him narrow his eyes at you like he already knows you are about to be difficult on purpose.
“So you said you missed me, and now you’re trying to get me to go to sleep. Rude.”
Valko looks ready to answer right away, but then he stops. His mouth closes again, and something shifts in his expression – a glint of mischief appears in his eyes so suddenly and so familiarly that you know you’re in trouble.
“Oh,” he says slowly, his grin beginning to spread, “so that’s what this is?”
Heat starts rising before you even know where he is going with it.
“Are you saying you missed me too?” His smile widens. “You just want to spend more time with me. Is that what you’re saying?”
Your whole face goes hot.
For a moment, you can only stare at him, feeling the burn spread across your cheeks as your mouth opens and closes once, then again, with absolutely nothing useful coming out. Valko’s grin only widens at your silence, clearly delighted with himself, and before he can say anything worse, you reach up and grab his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them without mercy.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he protests, though the laugh in his voice ruins any real attempt at sounding injured. “No need for violence!”
You let go, trying to look far less flustered than you feel, while he rubs at his cheeks with both hands and gives you a faint little pout that does nothing to make him less smug.
“Well,” you say, refusing to let him have the last word so easily, “you’re awake at this hour too, so why don’t you go to sleep?”
He leans back into the sofa, still rubbing one cheek as if you have truly wounded him, and lets out a thoughtful hum. “You know,” he says after a moment, “you’re right. The research I was doing didn’t help. My brain is still working through it, so I should probably try to relax too.”
His gaze drifts around the apartment then, over the sofa, the blankets, the cushions, and when he looks back at you, there is something almost casual in the way he says, “I can stay here, if you want. I can sleep over and take the sofa. Your apartment is cozy, after all.”
Your heart gives a quick, sudden flutter.
Then he pauses, glances toward the half-open suitcase by the wall, and adds with a grin, “Even with all this mess around.”
You smack his shoulder and he only laughs, like he had been waiting for exactly that reaction.
“Well,” you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile, “if you think the sofa will be comfortable enough, then sure. You can stay over.”
Before he can find something else to tease you about, you pat your hands against your thighs and start to stand up. “Okay, then,” you say sweetly, already turning away. “Goodnight.”
Valko’s hand catches your waist before you get more than halfway up, stopping you without any real effort. A soft, amused laugh escapes him, like he knows exactly what you’re doing.
“No, no, no,” he says, gently pulling you back down beside him. “Now we both have to help each other fall asleep.”
You glance at him, unable to keep your smile from slipping through. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”
“That’s exactly how it is.”
Valko grabs the blanket you’d been using and spreads it over both of you. “We can watch whatever you had on,” he says, nodding toward the TV.
You settle deeper into the sofa, close enough that your knee brushes his beneath the blanket. For a while, neither of you says much. Then, slowly, his arm slips along the back of the sofa and curls around your shoulders, drawing you gently against his side – and you can’t help but lean into him.
At one point, you see him nuzzle lightly into the blanket – that sweet, familiar habit of his that always made you smile.
The episode plays on. A few small comments pass between you, easy and low, but gradually his body grows heavier against yours. His head tips until it rests lightly on top of yours, and his breathing slows into deep, even breaths.
You go still, listening.
A smile tugs at your lips when you carefully tilt your head to glance up at him.
His eyes are closed.
So much for his very serious plan.
Carefully, so you do not jostle him too much, you lift a hand and give his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”
He makes a soft sound first, then shifts against you, his cheek brushing against your hair before his eyes crack open only halfway. There is a moment where he looks thoroughly confused, caught between sleep and waking, and then his brows draw together faintly as if he is trying to remember where he is.
“Hey…” he mumbles, voice drowsy. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you sleep.”
“You’re doing a terrible job,” you whisper back, smiling as you say it.
He exhales a sleepy, half-formed laugh and instead of pulling away, sinks closer, his arm tightening around you.
You stay quiet for a moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between you. Then Valko’s voice breaks it, barely more than a murmur when he asks, “Did you miss me?”
The question is simple, stripped of any teasing. For a second, you just look at him – at his sleepy face, at the hopeful, searching look in his eyes.
“Yes,” you say softly. “I did.”
His arm tightens just slightly around you.
“I was really happy to see you tonight,” you add after a moment. “I know it was only two weeks, but it felt longer than that. And with everything getting busy again soon...” You trail off, then glance up at him. “I just wanted a little more time with you, I guess.”
Valko is quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing slowly against your side. Then he shifts slightly, turning more toward you. His gaze drops to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, and the air between you feels suddenly heavier, sweeter.
His other hand lifts slowly, and when it settles against your upper back, the touch sends a small shiver through you. Then his hand slides higher, fingers spreading gently at the back of your head, cradling you there. You feel yourself drift closer, and he does the same.
Then his lips press against yours.
The kiss is soft and warm and careful. You melt into him. One of your hands holds onto the fabric of his hoodie, your body pressing closer of its own accord as happiness blooms through you so suddenly and so completely it almost feels unreal.
When your lips part, neither of you moves far.
Then he looks at you again, his gaze is softer than before but clearer too.
“I like you too much to pretend this is nothing,” he says, his voice soft and unguarded. He holds your gaze for another second. “Tell me if this is what you want too.”
Your answer comes easily. “I do.”
A small smile touches his mouth, sweet and a little disbelieving.
Then you lean in and kiss him again.
The hand at the back of your neck stays steady as he kisses you, and when your fingers slide from his chest to curl around the back of his neck, his breath catches softly against your mouth.
His mouth parts against yours, and when your tongues meet, the sensation is warm, slow, and so intimate it makes a deep shiver run through you. The slide is unhurried at first – soft, wet strokes that make heat bloom low in your belly. His tongue brushes against yours in ways that make your toes curl and your thoughts melt away. Then he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft, teasing nibble before soothing it with another slow pass of his tongue.
You make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, pressing closer, and he answers with a low hum that vibrates through you. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, but never rushed – every stroke of his tongue leaves you dizzy, aching in the best way, your body melting even further into his hold.
When the kiss finally breaks, you stay curled against him, forehead resting lightly against his, your breaths still uneven.
Neither of you moves for a long moment.
Then you pull back to look at him. “The sofa’s not that comfortable. You can… sleep in the bed with me. If you want.”
His eyes soften, that small smile returning. “I’d like that. A lot.”
While he heads to the bathroom, you slip into your bedroom and freeze for a second. The bed is still a mess from earlier – clothes scattered everywhere from when you’d frantically tried on different loungewear before he arrived – your cheeks burn at the evidence of how much you’d wanted to look nice for him.
You move fast, scooping everything up in armfuls and jamming the pile into your closet. Then you quickly change into your own pajamas: a loose shirt and flowy shorts. From the back of your closet, you pull out the biggest oversized t-shirt you own, with a goofy graphic and a band’s name splashed across the front.
By the time Valko returns from the bathroom, you’re already settled on the now-tidied bed, heart fluttering.
You hold the oversized shirt out to him. “Here. It’s the biggest one I have.”
He takes it from you, eyes crinkling with amusement as he reads the front. “Nice choice,” he teases. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut up and just put it on.”
Instead of stepping out, Valko stays right there in front of you. With that easy confidence of his, he reaches back and tugs the hoodie off in one smooth motion. The movement pulls his t-shirt up slightly underneath, revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach and the sharp cut of his hips before the fabric falls back into place. He peels that off too, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.
Broad shoulders, the hard strength of his arms and chest that you’ve felt against you so many times, now fully on display in the soft glow of your bedroom lamp. Your gaze traces the lines of his body before you can stop yourself, lingering on the way his muscles shift as he unfolds the oversized shirt, then dipping lower to the faint trail of hair on his lower stomach.
Then he unbuttons his jeans.
The soft sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the quiet room. He pushes them down his hips and steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. The fabric clings to the firm lines of his thighs and the unmistakable outline underneath, and your face burns. You know you should look away, but you can’t.
Valko catches you staring.
A knowing smile curves his mouth, “Enjoying the show?”
You immediately avert your gaze. “No.”
You turn off the last light and climb into bed.
He chuckles softly and finally pulls the t-shirt over his head. A moment later he joins you, pulling the blanket over both of you as he settles on his side facing you.
For a second, you just look at each other in the low glow of moonlight from the window. Then he reaches out, sliding an arm around your waist and drawing you closer until your bodies press together again.
“You okay?” he asks softly, the same careful warmth in his voice from earlier.
You nod, tucking your face against his chest, breathing him in. “Yeah.”
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head… then another to your forehead… then, when you tilt your face up, to your lips.
This kiss starts slow and sweet, like the first one, but the closeness of the bed changes everything. Your hands find his chest again, sliding over the soft, worn fabric of your own shirt on him. He tastes like toothpaste, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours under the covers makes your head spin. One of your hands drifts up to the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair, while his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer until your legs tangle together.
A soft sound escapes you when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm and broad against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, but it sends a slow shiver through you all the same. He pauses there, thumb stroking small circles against your spine, as if checking whether you want him to stop.
When you press closer instead, he lets his hand explore further, sliding up the curve of your back, mapping the warmth of your skin like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.
The kiss breaks only so you can both catch your breath, but his mouth doesn’t go far. He trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. When his teeth graze there lightly, your breath hitches.
“Still okay?” he whispers, voice husky now, lips brushing your skin with every word.
“Yes,” you manage, a little breathless. “Don’t stop.”
Valko makes a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. His hands slide to your waist, and with gentle strength he rolls you both over so you’re on top. He helps you settle, guiding your legs until you’re straddling his hips.
For a moment you brace yourself on your hands, hovering just slightly above him. Your heart is racing – nervous, excited, and suddenly worried about settling your full weight on top of him.
Valko looks up at you. One of his hands stays on your hip while the other smooths slowly up your back.
“Come here…” he murmurs. “All of you.”
When you hesitate for half a second, he adds gently, “Just relax.”
Carefully, you lower yourself until your full weight rests on him. The moment your chest presses fully against his, a quiet sigh escapes both of you. He feels so solid beneath you – the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, the firm strength of his body supporting yours so easily. Your legs settle on either side of his hips, and the intimate press of him right between your thighs makes heat bloom low in your belly.
Valko’s arms wrap around you immediately, one hand splaying wide across your lower back, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades to hold you closer. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale, breathing you in.
For a long moment you just stay like that – bodies aligned, hearts beating against each other. Then he gently nudges your face with his, and you tilt your head down to meet him.
His lips move against yours, and when the kiss deepens, it happens gradually – tongues brushing, mouths opening wider, breaths growing a little heavier. The weight of you on top of him, the way your bodies fit together so completely, makes everything feel more intense. You can feel the hard line of him pressed right against your core, and the sensation sends little sparks of pleasure through you with every tiny movement.
Still a little shy, still a little uncertain, you roll your hips in one slow, experimental movement. The friction drags right where you need it most, pulling a soft, involuntary sound from your throat. Valko groans – low, rough, and completely unguarded – the sound vibrating against your mouth. His arms tighten around you instantly, and the way he pulls you down against him makes it clear just how much he felt that.
“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips. “Do that again.”
Emboldened by his reaction, you roll your hips again, grinding down against him. The pleasure sparks sharper, deeper. You can feel every inch of him through the thin layers of fabric separating you, and the way his body responds – the way he twitches underneath you – makes your stomach flutter.
Valko meets you on the next roll. He rocks his hips up into yours in a slow, deep rhythm, pressing firmly against your core with each movement. His hold on you never loosens – he keeps you flush against his chest, bodies moving together in a slow, rolling grind.
The kiss grows sloppier, hotter – tongues slide deeper, mouths open wider, little wet sounds mixing with your shared breathing. You feel his heartbeat hammering against yours.
“You feel so good on top of me,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that, baby.”
Valko’s hands are everywhere. One stays anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other slips under your pajama shirt, palming the soft skin of your back, then sliding down to squeeze your ass. He pulls you down harder against him on every roll, making sure you feel exactly how hard he is.
Then his hand moves between your bodies.
He presses two fingers against the front of your shorts, right over your core. The moment he touches you, you realize just how soaked you are. The fabric is warm and damp, clinging to you, and the pressure of his fingers makes the wetness even more obvious. A flush of embarrassed heat rushes through you, but it only makes you ache more.
Valko groans deeply into your mouth, the sound raw. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs. He rubs slow circles over the soaked fabric, pressing just right against your clit through the layers. The sensation makes your hips jerk, a sharp little whimper escaping you.
He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but there’s a flicker of hesitation there too. His throat works as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice has the slightest tremble in it.
“Still okay?” he asks, fingers still gently pressing against your soaked shorts. He pauses, searching your face. “Can I…?”
You nod quickly, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Please.”
A soft, relieved breath escapes him.
He shifts just enough to reach between you. With one hand, he tugs his boxers down far enough to free himself, his cock springing up hot and heavy against your inner thigh. With the other, he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your pajama shorts and panties, tugging the soaked fabric to the side. The cool air hits your slick, exposed folds for only a second before the blunt, burning heat of his tip presses right against your entrance.
The slight sting of his girth against your sensitive opening makes you inhale sharply. Still, your thighs tremble as you fight the instinct to sink down all at once.
Valko’s eyes never leave your face. His breath is shaky, his grip on your hip almost bruising as he visibly holds himself back from thrusting up.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Just relax… I’ve got you. Trust me.”
He rocks his hips up in the tiniest, careful movement, letting just the head slip inside you. The stretch is intense – a burning, aching fullness that makes your mouth fall open on a quiet, broken sound. You feel every thick inch as he slowly works you open, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every flicker of sensation across your face.
Another shallow thrust, and he sinks a little deeper. His hand on your hip keeps guiding you down slowly, patiently, even as his own breath trembles and a low groan escapes his lips. You can feel how much he’s holding back – the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his cock twitches inside you with the effort of going slow.
He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose, his voice dropping to a whisper between heavy breaths.
“Just a little more… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”
He keeps guiding you with those slow, shallow thrusts, working himself deeper. Each gentle push stretches you further, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl against his shoulders. The slight sting is still there, but it’s slowly melting into something warmer, fuller, more overwhelming.
Finally, with one last careful roll of his hips, he bottoms out completely.
A soft, broken sound escapes you as he fills you to the hilt. Your walls flutter around him, clenching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation of being so completely taken.
Valko goes very still beneath you, breathing hard against your neck.
He whispers your name. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”
You take a shaky breath, then nod against his shoulder, melting a little more in his embrace. “I’m okay,” you murmur, voice soft and a little breathless.
The tension in his body eases at your words. He pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, until there isn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies. Your breasts press against his chest, your stomach against his, your thighs snug around his hips.
“Just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you… all of you.”
You melt into him completely.
He starts kissing you again – first pressing his lips to yours, tender and sweet. Then to your flushed cheek. Then along the line of your jaw. When he reaches your neck, he lingers there, nuzzling into the sensitive skin with a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of you as his lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat. Every kiss sends warm little sparks through your body, making you shiver and clench around him.
You feel completely surrounded by him. He makes you feel soft and safe and wanted in a way you’ve never quite felt before.
After a few long, still moments of just feeling each other, Valko starts to move.
He rolls his hips up in one slow thrust, pressing himself even deeper inside you. The drag of his thick length against your walls pulls a shaky moan from your throat. He does it again, and again – careful but steady, letting you feel every inch as he fills you completely with each roll.
You start moving with him.
Your hips begin to roll in a slow rhythm, grinding down to meet his upward thrusts. The pace is yours, and he lets you set it. Every time you sink down onto him, his cock grazes all the right spots inside you, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through your core. You can feel how wet you are – how your slick coats him completely, making every slide smoother, wetter, hotter. You angle your hips just right so that with every downward roll, your clit grinds against his pelvis. The added friction makes your thighs tremble. Pleasure builds fast and heavy, coiling tight in your belly with every movement.
You can’t stop looking at him.
Even in the low, dim light of your bedroom, he looks devastating. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark with lust, but locked on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. His lips are parted and glistening, soft groans and quiet curses falling from them every time you sink down on him. His hair is slightly messy from your fingers, and the way his jaw clenches when you roll your hips harder makes your heart stutter.
You roll your hips faster, chasing that building pleasure with every grind of your clit against his pelvis and every deep stroke of his cock inside you. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting grow louder, wetter with every movement. Your walls flutter and clench around his thick length, coating him even more with your arousal as the pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.
A broken moan of his name slips from your lips – “Valko...” – raw and needy. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn – you feel suddenly exposed like this, riding him so shamelessly, your voice sounding so desperate, your body moving on instinct. The wave of pleasure is cresting dangerously close, and the intensity of it makes you shy for a moment.
You duck your head, hiding your face in the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you keep rolling your hips.
You know Valko notices. Instead of pulling you back, he cradles the back of your head with one large hand. His voice is full of affection as he murmurs against your ear.
“You can stay right here, sweetheart. Just feel it… That’s it. Come for me.”
His words, the steady praise mixed with the way he keeps thrusting up to meet your rolling hips, push you right over the edge.
With one more deep grind of your hips, your orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure surges hot and overwhelming, ripping a muffled, trembling cry from your throat against his neck. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering. Your thighs shake, slick gushing around him as you come hard, soaking his length and pelvis. Valko groans deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest, and holds you even tighter, his hips still moving with yours – slow, deep rolls that help you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.
Your hips gradually slow, then finally still as the last ripples of your orgasm fade into a warm, glowing haze. You stay draped over him, breathing hard against his neck, your heart still racing wildly in your chest.
After a few long seconds, you finally gather the courage to lift your head from its hiding place. Your face is glistening with sweat, your cheeks are burning, your hair slightly messy as you meet his gaze. You’re still catching your breath, lips parted, eyes a little dazed.
When your eyes lock, the intense heat in Valko’s gaze melts into something more tender. A small, gentle smile curves his lips as he looks up at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The hand that had been cradling the back of your head slides forward to graze your cheek with his thumb, stroking it with slow affection.
“There you are…” he murmurs, voice low and fond. “Hi, pretty girl.”
He searches your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thumb continuing its gentle caress. “Do you want to keep going?”
You feel a sheepish little smile tug at your lips. You nod, still a bit breathless, cheeks warming even more under his attentive gaze.
“Yes,” you whisper.
His smile deepens, soft and warm. “You want me to take over?”
You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, please.”
Valko’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, an almost reverent smile curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you in front of him.
“Just relax for me,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”
After you nod, Valko doesn’t waste another second.
He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss as he begins to move beneath you. His hips roll up in long thrusts, driving his thick cock deeper into your soaked heat with every stroke. One arm stays locked around your back, pressing your chest flush against his, while his other hand keeps your shorts and underwear tugged to the side so he can fuck you properly.
He keeps kissing you through it – slow and messy, tongues sliding together as his pace gradually picks up. His breath grows heavier against your lips, and between kisses he whispers –
“Am I doing good? Tell me… fuck, I need to hear it.”
You’re already losing yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts, the way his cock stretches and fills you so perfectly. The answer slips out of you in a hazy, breathless mumble, half-coherent and soaked in pleasure.
“You feel so good…” you moan, voice breaking. “Fuck – you’re so big… filling me up so deep…”
Valko groans loudly at your words, the sound low and guttural. His grip on you tightens, and his thrusts grow a little harder, a little faster, driving up into you with more purpose. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder as he fucks you deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot with devastating precision.
“Yeah? You like how deep I’m fucking you?” he rasps against your lips, voice thick with lust. “You’re taking me so well… so wet and tight around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”
You whimper at his filthy words, clenching hard around him. He keeps that perfect rhythm, holding you close, kissing you like he never wants to stop, while his cock drives into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.
You can feel him starting to throb inside you, his rhythm beginning to falter as he gets closer to the edge. His thrusts grow a little rougher, a little more desperate.
He must feel how you’re close too, because your hips have started moving on their own, grinding down to meet every thrust. His breath stutters against your mouth.
“You close again, baby?” he groans, voice strained and low. “Fuck… I can feel you squeezing me so tight.”
You nod frantically, whimpering as another wave of pleasure builds fast and hot. “Yes – I’m close… please, Valko, go faster – ”
He clenches his jaw, a deep, guttural sound escaping him as he tries to hold back. His hips snap up harder, but you can tell he’s right on the edge.
“I’m too close,” he rasps, almost apologetic, still fucking you deep and steady. “If I go faster, I’m not gonna last – ”
“It’s okay,” you breathe, voice trembling with need as you roll your hips down to take him even deeper. “It’s fine, just – don’t stop. Please.”
Valko lets out a wrecked moan, his grip on you tightening almost painfully. He buries his face in your neck for a second, breathing you in, then pulls back just enough to look at you with dark, desperate eyes.
“Where can I finish?” he asks, voice hoarse and filthy. “Where do you want me?”
Without hesitation, still grinding down on his cock, you whisper against his lips –
“Inside. I want you to come inside me.”
Valko’s control finally snaps.
With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt in a few hard, fast thrusts. You feel every powerful spurt as he fills you up, warm and wet, his cock twitching deep in your pussy while he keeps rolling his hips in sloppy thrusts, pushing his release even deeper.
The sensation of him coming inside you sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. You’re right on the edge again, but you stay still for him, letting him use you however he needs, your body soft and pliant on top of his as he rides out the last pulses of his orgasm.
Then he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice wrecked and breathless.
“Move, baby… don’t stop. Chase it. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”
You hesitate for half a second, worried it might be too much for him, but he doesn’t let you overthink it. His hands grip your hips firmly and start guiding you, encouraging you to roll and grind on him again.
You nod, eyes locked with his, and start moving.
You ride him through the mess, feeling his warm cum leak out of you with every roll of your hips, slick and obscene, coating both of you. His cock is still hard inside you, but you can feel how oversensitive he is now – the way he twitches and throbs helplessly with every movement, like it’s almost too much.
He meets your rhythm with shallow, desperate thrusts, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His eyes stay locked on yours, heavy-lidded and burning, even as his breath turns ragged and broken.
Valko groans, low and wrecked. “That’s it… fuck, just like that,” he rasps, voice tight and strained. “Come on my cock, baby – you’re squeezing me so fucking tight… Good girl, so fucking good…”
It doesn’t take long.
Pleasure slams into you harder this time. You come with a trembling, broken cry, your walls clamping down around his oversensitive cock as another orgasm rips through you. The feeling of his cum leaking out around him with every pulse makes everything wetter, filthier, messier. Slick and cum mix between you as you grind down on him, thighs shaking violently.
This time you don’t hide your face. You stay right there, eyes locked with his, letting him see every second of it – the way your lips part on a silent gasp, the way your whole body shudders and tightens around him.
“Fuck – yes, baby… look at you,” he groans, voice slurred and desperate. “So fucking pretty when you come… good girl…”
His wrecked praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, drawing out the pleasure for a few more trembling seconds. Then the intense peak of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you utterly spent. You collapse completely on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you try to catch your breath. Your body feels heavy, hot, and spent in the best possible way. Valko’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he stays buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last aftershocks. Neither of you makes any move to separate.
You nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting mix of his skin, sweat, and your own scent on him. His hands move slowly over your back in long, soothing strokes, fingertips tracing gentle patterns along your spine.
For a long while, you simply rest like that – tangled together, hearts slowing down, his warmth surrounding you completely.
Eventually, his voice breaks the comfortable silence, low and gentle against your ear.
“You okay?” he asks, still stroking your back. “Feeling alright?”
You manage a small nod against his neck, too tired and floaty to form proper words. A tiny, satisfied hum is all you can offer.
He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you.
After a few more quiet, peaceful minutes, you finally shift. You slowly push yourself up on shaky arms and lift your hips. The moment he slips out of you, a low, disappointed groan escapes Valko’s throat. The sound is so genuine that you can’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.
“We should probably clean up,” you murmur, still smiling.
He nods, but there’s a playful pout in his expression. Before you can move away, he cups your face with both hands and pulls you down into a slow, sweet kiss. It’s softer than anything that came before – gentle, lingering, and full of affection. When he pulls back, his thumbs brush over your cheeks, and his eyes are warm and tender in the afterglow.
“You feeling sleepy now?” he asks, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.
You let out a soft, embarrassed little laugh. The reality of everything that just happened is starting to settle in, making your cheeks warm all over again.
“Yeah… I think I am,” you admit.
He chuckles quietly, but then that familiar warm smile returns as he pulls you back down into his embrace. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head.
“I never want to let you go.” He whispers.
You melt into him again, letting yourself stay there for a moment longer, tucked safely in his arms. As his fingers keep moving gently over your skin, all you can think is that you want more of this – more nights that end with him holding you close, more stolen hours together, more of his laughter, to feel his warm hands, to see his eyes that always soften when they find yours.
⁀➴☕︎ | 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.
a/n : some valko smutty/sugestive fluff to help distract from the emotions. take a break, drink some water, and enjoy. inbox open for anyone who needs it 💚
"angel- please, if you keep moving like that...," valko hisses out. he's still extremely sensitive, with the way his knot is keeping you locked in place.
"not my fault! I didn't realize a knot meant... you know...," you mutter. valko raises his brow, in a way thats both exasperated and endearing.
he's got you on top of him, your chest against his, one arm firmly around your waist with the other drawing lines up and down your spine. right after you came, he made sure to adjust you both, whispering to get comfortable, since you'd be stuck like this for a while.
just an hour or so earlier, you'd asked him if him being a werewolf came with the, well, perks, of being a werewolf. you've seen the way he acts- the way he bites to nip and bite you with those fangs of his, how he's utterly obsessed with your scent, and while he'll forever deny it, you've heard the little yips he makes when you brush out his tail.
and well, it's safe to say that valko is more bite than bark (though... you experienced a lot of both with the way he was pumping you full and making you see stars).
"you didn't think I was serious when you asked me if I had a knot?" he's saying it a bit to smug for your liking, so you retort with shifting just a bit- clenching just enough for him to groan out, both hands finding your hips and gripping.
"so,"
"so."
you both stare at each other, before letting out a small laugh. the kind of giggle that comes from that post-sex bliss. valko's tail curls from underneath him, lazily grazing the back of your thighs. it's a content state of being- close in a way that you literally couldn't be closer in.
"hey val? how long does your... last anyways?" you ask, your own hand reaching out to softly scratch the base of his wolf ears. valko hums softly, head moving to the side to lean into your touch. his nose rubs against your wrist, a spot that he's once said is really strong with your scent.
"the swelling can go down from anywhere between 15 minutes to... an hour I think?" your hand stops in his ears, eyes going wide at the revelation. sure, you might've read about it, seen it in books you've read, but the daunting reality of it all?
valko smirks at your flustered reaction, his hand reaching up to yours and bringing it back to pet his ears.
"give or take, by the way," he says casually.
your head plops back down, right in the crook of his neck. valko's laugh- deep and breathy and so him rumbles from under you. he wraps his arms around you once more, getting rid of the already nonexistent space between you two.
in his arms, you both talk about everything and nothing. you give him small updates from your life, books you've read, that new show you're watching. he listens- really listens- and tells you stories about his family, how he needs to get his glasses adjusted, about the new tech piece he's working on.
it's sometime it the depth of night when his knot starts to slowly soften up. he kisses you, gently and soft in ways that go deeper than i love you, though he means that just as much.
his knot slips free eventually, but neither of you make haste to move. he'll prep a bath, the sheets will be remade. but right now, all that exists is the wolf and his dearest love.
"meadow, i thought you said you were taking a break-" im coping. im sad and emotional and just want meet my wolf and see my dragon again. take care of yourselves, everyone.
how do i get a submissive werewolf to mark me? just edge him until he does!!
wc: 1,441
content: f!reader, reader and valko are both switches? nicknames like puppy, good boy. praising and degrading, fang play, blood, biting, marking, mention of knotting, mention of exhibitionism, he has his ears and tail k, hybrid?? edging, unedited (soz i wrote FAST)
the forest surrounding your village had been riddled with werewolves for as long as you’d been alive. your parents and the elders have always warned you away from them, saying that those who go into the woods at night are either never seen again or are found mangled and half-eaten.
you’d hear the snarls and snaps of their jaws some nights, wondering if they were fighting over a deer or someone stupid enough to wander in there. normally, if it were the latter, you’d hear screams you could never unhear.
werewolves were volatile, possessive, and predatory- they were said to be the most dominant creatures on the earth. so why had this werewolf been submitting to you for months now?
you’re sitting on his lap, his thick cock pressed against your belly leaking pre and staining your thin slip. he’d long since ripped off your pajamas, the fabric somewhere shredded on the ground.
your hand pumps him slowly, torturing him with the pace. he knew better than to do that- how many times had you gotten onto him about ruining your outfits?! you weren't made of money, and your parents were starting to catch on to your clothes all having strange stitching holding them together!
“did i tell you to stop?” you chastise him, your free hand reaching up to grab his fluffy ear, pulling his head back.
valko whines and looks up at you with golden eyes, eyebrows pulling together. “it feels too good, i got distracted-”
“hm.” you drop the hand that was pumping him. “fine. since you can’t handle two things at once, you’ll lose your privileges."
“no, please.” he begs, head going back to where you wanted it in the crook of your neck.
his rough tongue licked up and down the column of your neck, lapping at it.
you hum happily, hand instinctively going back to stroking him, faster than before. “good boyy, see, you know how to listen after all.”
he nods and whimpers, tongue kitten licking the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. the exact spot you’d been begging him to bite for weeks.
maybe if you play your cards right this time, he would finally do it?
“such a sweet puppy, aren't you?” you ask, voice low in the way he likes it. you tighten your fingers at his tip, watching as he leaks out and stains your fingers.
though you didn’t have much experience with human men, you knew enough to know that werewolves had much larger cocks. you hadn’t even let him fuck you yet due to the sheer size of him- you were sure it would break you.
valko’s fluffy tail wags at your praise. “uh huhh, i’ve been so good. waited for you, haven’t touched myself in a week- mmh!” he shudders when you slide a finger over his slit.
you nod in approval, scratching behind one of his ears. he leans into the scratching, an eye closing in pleasure.
“i’ve almost got you trained then, haven’t i? such a strong creature tamed by a human.” you huff out a laugh, hand moving faster as you try to get him close. “how pathetic. what if the rest of your pack saw you like this?”
valko growled, the sound low and barely there. he knew better than to truly defy you, keeping his annoyance to a minimum. his tongue continued to lick, the roughness scratching at your skin like sandpaper.
you took his silence as an answer, and his panting as a sign that he was close. close enough for you to try once again.
“wanna cum?”
valko nodded and tried to look up at you from his position at your neck, golden eyes glowing slightly and pleading with yours. “please?”
you shivered at his voice. despite his physical submission to you, his voice always reminded you that he was a dangerous predator. it was deep, not at all like the airy and whiny voices of submissive human men you’d encountered.
maybe that’s why you were so fond of him- knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you. but he won’t, because you’ve got him trained like he’s no more than a stray.
you halt your hand on his cock once more, making him whine and arch his back. “mark me and i’ll let you cum.” you purr into his fuzzy ear, biting down on the peak of it.
valko rears back, his face contorting from the blissed out state it was just in to the tense scowl he normally wears when he’s not with you.
“you know i can’t mark you, it wouldn’t be safe.”
he tries to back up, but you keep an iron grip on the base of his cock, holding him still. “marking me is the only way to keep me safe- how stupid are you? your packmates are going to find out about this eventually, do you think they’ll let me live?”
valko doesn’t look convinced. he scoffs and shakes his head. “marking you brings attention to you, right now no one knows you exist. they won’t be happy that i chose a human as my mate, either.”
you raise an eyebrow at his defiance. “hm. fine.” you stand and brush your slip off. “if you can’t have a human as your mate, you shouldn’t have one as your fuck buddy then either, should y- hey!”
you yelp as valko grabs your wrists and yanks you back down onto his lap. he puts your hand back on his cock, wrapping your fingers around it as he strokes himself over you.
his voice comes out gravely and rough against your skin. “fine. if i mark you, you understand that i have to knot you also?”
you swallow hard and think about it. if you thought his dick would be too big for you, how hard would the knot be to take..?
you clench around nothing at the idea, wetness already seeping through your thin panties. the answer was a no-brainer.
“deal.”
no sooner than the word left your mouth did valko bite down on the juncture between neck and shoulder. the pain was excruciating, causing you to scream and writhe on his lap.
snarls and howls sounded in the background, no doubt in response to your screaming. normally, you’d be terrified, because having a whole pack hunting you would lead to your death, but you weren’t worried.
they couldn’t hurt you, not with valko’s mark on you. the bite left your head fuzzy and your body tingling.
valko was licking your wound over with care, a sound like purring emanating from him. after he deemed it properly cared for, he looked your face over to make sure you were okay.
“don’t pass out on me, puppy.” he teases, hand cradling the back of your head as he smiles.
he’s still moving your hand in time with his on his cock, albeit slower than before.
your eyes zero in on his teeth- more specifically his fangs that are coated in your blood from the bond mark.
without even thinking, you lean forward and lick his fangs, tasting your own metallic blood.
a strangled moan left valko when you did this, unintentionally sending him over the edge. his hips bucked up into the hands you both had around him, cum spurting out in thick streams, landing on both of your chests.
how were you supposed to know that werewolves had sensitive fangs?
once his high wore down, you heard loud footsteps approaching and panicked. “should we go? what if-”
valko hummed and nuzzled his nose into the mark he left on you. “no, no no, i still have to knot you, remember? now who’s the one that doesn’t listen.” he teases.
you glare at him. if your mind wasn’t so fuzzy, you’d put him back in his place. maaaybe you could let him be in charge for once…
“you’re not gonna take me somewhere nicer to fuck me?”
valko looks around in confusion. “what’s wrong with this?”
you raise an eyebrow at him and tap your hand on the hard dirt you. “uh, maybe that it’s hard and, i don’t know, the forest floor?”
valko shrugged and maneuvered you onto your back, crawling over you and pushing one sode of your slip up. “it won’t hurt.” he kisses between your breasts.
“what about when your pack shows up? you’re going to let them see me naked?”
valko rubs his thick tip against your soaked panties, tilting his head. “let them watch. it’s customary for packmates to watch each other mate.” his golden eyes meet yours and he smirks slightly. “you’ll get the full experience.”
a/n: THIS IS MY MAN THIS IS MY MAIN IDCCCC also im prepared for him to be crazy ooc when his content drops lolz. ive never written anything like this before so if i missed tagging smth PLS let me know so i can add it!!
thick moon divider from @uzmacchiato , thin moon divider from @cyberangel-graphics
synopsis: valko is in deep heat with the supermoon occurring, and he wants a solution that requires restraints, a collar, and you.
warnings: valko is in heat, sub!valko, good boy!valko, collar use, bondage, riding, overstimulation, biting, licking, scent marking, edging, knots, rutting, monsterfucking.
wc: 2,3k
a/n: i love him already, he's such a cutie. he deserves endless cuddles, BE NICE TO HIM! i want to devour him. I NEED HIM TO EAT ME OU– enjoy a pre-release celebration of our handsome wolf, valko!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
He must be in heat. that’s the only way Valko can describe this feeling. The moon has been full for less than an hour, and he’s already twitching. Usually he can handle himself. But that’s not gonna work out well for him if all he can think about is you.
Your scent is delicious, beyond the scented lotions and perfume, he’s talking about your natural aroma, amplified by sweat and other smells your body emits. It draws him in. He can’t help but sniff the air every time you walk past him. His cock won’t stop twitching in his pants, tenting at the sight of you catching his gaze.
Valko wants to bite you. Valko wants to slather you with his saliva until you smell like him. He wants to rut his cock so deep inside you, cuddle you so close and keep you so warm with his hot body that you just have to call him a good boy.
“…ko,” He must be imagining you saying his name so nice and breathless.
“…alko.” There it is again, louder, your nails could drag down his back until he bleeds and he’d thank you.
“Valko!” He blinks, the mirage of a heated embrace disappearing from his perception to be replaced by your fingers snapping very close to his face. Such pretty fingers, he wants to lick—
“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—
“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”
“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.
Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant.
What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.
But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore.
You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.
Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.
He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it.
“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”
Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.
The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now.
You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish.
“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little.
“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.
You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.
Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.
“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest.
“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.
“Please…”
“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do.
You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?
With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”
“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.
“If you’re grossed out—“
“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”
That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”
“The millisecond.”
His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”
“I’ll put a poet to shame.”
“Pull my hair?”
“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”
A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”
Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.
It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.
The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens.
But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?
You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours.
You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again.
“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.
“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.
He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.
Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it?
His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.
Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”
“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”
You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.
It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.
Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.
Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!
You love these fucking supermoons.
“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”
“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“
“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”
He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”
“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.
“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.
You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”
Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”
“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.”
── .✦ 𝐶𝛰𝑁𝑇𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆 : explicit content (18+), minors dni, vaginal sex, rough handling, dirty talk, possessive behavior, biting/marking (claws, teeth, and blood drawn in one instance), overstimulation, praise kink, slight degradation, breeding kink (implied knotting), bondage (metal Evol and cuffs), semi-public sex (office windows + warehouse), wall sex, prone bone, mating press, reverse cowgirl, spooning, deep penetration, grinding, forced eye contact, fear play (implied), worship kink, slight choking (implied by grip), mutual masturbation, scratching (claws on brick), tail wrapping, hair grabbing (implied), submissive top dynamics, petnames used include sweetheart, pretty thing, pup, baby, my good girl, and pretty, with one instance of blood play from a bite and one instance of the reader being pinned in a vulnerable position. not proofread oopsie
𝑃𝑅𝛰𝑁𝐸 𝐵𝛰𝑁𝐸.
He's got you flattened into the mattress, all two hundred pounds of muscle and wolf draped over your spine like a second skin, cherry-colored hair sticking to his sweaty brow while his nose burrows into the curve of your neck—sniffing, because he can't help it, because you smell like rain and honey and his, and somewhere deep in his throat that feral little whine rumbles all the way down to his his chest. It's so at odds with the way his thick, drooling cock splits you open in one torturously slow, wet push. Your fingers claw at the sheets, a choked sob catching in your throat as he bottoms out, that heavy weight settling deep inside you, stretching you, your cunt squeezing and relaxing in weak little pulses to try and accomodate his size — and he laughs, a low, breathless chuckle against your ear, canines grazing the lobe just shy of drawing blood. "Aww, sweetheart, you're trembling," he coos, mock-sympathetic even as his hips snap forward with a brutal, wet smack that punches the air from your lungs, claws denting the headboard as he finds a rhythm—deep, relentless, mean—pressing your cheek into the pillow with every downward drive. But even as he fucks you into the mattress like a beast caught in a heated rut, his arms are wrapped around you, forearms bracketing your ribs, pulling you impossibly closer, his tail coiling tight around your calf like he's scared you'll slip away. "Don't run from me," he whines, breath hot and ragged against your nape, hips never stuttering, "wanna feel you choke on every inch—wanna fill you so full you'll dream about my knot," and his voice cracks on the last word, that scary, hulking predator reduced to a clinging mess who needs you to take him, to keep him, to let him ruin you softly.
𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑆𝑆.
He's folded you in half like you're made of silk, knees shoved up to your shoulders, the backs of your thighs pressed flush against his heaving chest and he just stares for a moment, amber eyes blown wide and dark, tracing the glossy, swollen mess of your cunt wrapped around his leaking length like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Look at that," he purrs, voice dripping with teasing awe, one calloused thumb reaching down to circle your puffy clit, smearing your slick across your belly just to watch you twitch, "taking all of me like a good little thing—fuck, you're so pretty when you're stuffed full," and then he rolls his hips, a deep, grinding circle that hits that spongy spot inside you and makes your vision white out, stars bursting behind your eyelids. His sharp canines graze your bottom lip, tugging at the plush flesh before he soothes it with a kittenish lick, all while his hips piston into you with deep, measured strokes that have the headboard creaking and the sheets pooling wet beneath you. "Eyes on me, pretty thing," he commands, but it comes out breathless, desperate, almost a plea, because he needs to watch you fall apart, needs to see those tears cling to your lashes. His Evol hums, cooling the silver cuffs that bind your wrists to the headboard, but his hands stay gentle, palms cradling your jaw, thumbs stroking your cheekbones like you're something sacred. "There she is—there's my girl," he coos, fucking into you deeper, slower, worshipping your gooey cunt and your kiss bitten lips, that scary wolf completely undone by the way your walls flutter around him, clinging and greedy, and he smiles, boyish and adoring, even as he wrecks you from the inside out.
𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿 / 𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸 𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿.
You're bouncing reverse in his lap, back plastered to his sweat-slicked chest, the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office reflecting the lewd, glistening sight of his thick shaft disappearing into your drenched heat over and over again—and he's watching the glass, amber eyes half-lidded and starving, one massive hand splayed across your stomach while the other sneaks up to cup your jaw, turning your face so he can press messy, open-mouthed kisses to the corner of your lips. "C'mon, baby, use me," he slurs against your cheek, hips twitching up to meet your lazy, grinding descent, but his voice is needy, wrecked, that booming baritone cracking into a whimper when you clench around him, "don't stop—please don't stop—you feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me." And when you slow down, thighs burning, he whines, a high, pathetic sound that's so utterly unlike the terrifying Chairman who makes boardrooms tremble, and he wraps both arms around your middle, hugging you tight to his chest, burying his nose in your sweat-damp hair while his hips buck up into you with frantic, shallow thrusts. "You're mean," he pouts against your scalp, claws pricking just enough to sting at your waist, but he's kissing the spot right after, tongue lapping at the tiny beads of blood like an apology, "getting me all worked up and then—nngh—trying to tap out? Nah, sweetheart, you're gonna ride me until that pretty cunt of yours is raw, then you're gonna let me fill you up. Right, little pup? " He groans when you clench around him, seemingly in agreement, the sound breathless and warm, that feral, untamed beast completely surrendered to you, his throne, his home, his everything.
𝐴𝐺𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑆𝑇 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐿.
He's got you slammed against the cold, damp concrete of the abandoned warehouse, your legs locked high around his hips and his massive palms gripping the swell of your ass, fingers dimpling the soft flesh as he lifts you with complete ease, impales you on one brutal, all-consuming shove that has your head knocking back against the brick with a dull thud—but he's there in an instant, one hand cupping the back of your skull, cushioning the impact while his hips roll forward in a punishing, deep grind that punches a broken moan from your chest. "Couldn't even make it to the bed," he teases, sharp canines grazing the column of your throat, tongue lapping at your frantic pulse point while his tail wraps possessively around your thigh, keeping you spread wide and helpless against him, "got so worked up just lookin' at you in that skirt—gonna fuck you stupid right here, where anyone could walk in and see who you belong to." But yet, his voice wavers, cracks with affection, because he's grinning against your skin, that boyish, mischievous smile that makes him look nothing like the scary wolf who just tore through a dozen enemies. His hips piston into you with frantic, sloppy thrusts, the wet schlik schlik echoing off the walls, rain dripping through a broken skylight and mingling with the sweat trailing down his chest—and even as he fucks you ruthlessly, brutally, one arm stays locked around your waist, holding you flush to his body like you're the only anchor in a storm, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing you in with desperate little huffs. "Smell so scared and soaked," he murmurs, lips brushing your pulse and you whimper, "but you're safe, you're always safe with me, even when I'm bein' a monster—fuck, I love the way you squeeze me when I talk dirty," and he laughs, despite a whine curling around the sound, driving into you deeper, slower, meaner, kissing your tears away even as he paints your walls with his release.
𝑆𝑃𝛰𝛰𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺.
Moonlight spills through the blinds like liquid silver, painting his cherry hair in pale, ethereal streaks as he pulls you flush against his chest, your back curving into his broad, scarred torso like two puzzle pieces snapping together—and he sighs, a deep, throaty sound that's all warmth and no bite, his half-hard cock sliding through your slick, puffy folds from behind, nudging past your entrance with a slow, lazy push that has him whimpering against your nape. "Been thinkin' about this all day," he confesses, voice thick with sleep and adoration, one arm banded tight across your ribs while his other hand trails down your belly, fingers dipping to circle your swollen clit in languid, hypnotic patterns. Your back arches on instinct, curving to fit the shape of his shadow. He continues in a low rumble against your skin, murmuring between kisses, "Sitting in that boardroom, tryin' to sound smart, but all I could think about was coming home to this—to you—feeling you warm and wet and mine." His hips rock into you with slow, deep, worshipful thrusts, each one a gentle nudge that has you melting into the mattress, his tail curling possessively around your thigh, keeping you anchored to his every lazy roll, and he kisses your shoulder, your neck, the shell of your ear, a trail of soft, open-mouthed affection that makes your heart ache. "My good girl," he murmurs, canines grazing just soft enough to make you shiver, "my pretty, perfect, clingy little thing—can't even fuck you slow without wanna whine about how much I love you," He groans wetly against your skin, his hips stuttering into a deeper, needier rhythm, that big, scary wolf completely tamed, reduced to a sobbing, adoring mess who fucks you with all the tenderness in the world, whispering promises into your hair until the sun comes up.
♱⋅── 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?”
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 🧎🏻♀️🫣
Summary: Valko’s late-night Target run was supposed to end with birth control, snacks, and another bottle of wine. Instead, he comes back with a leather collar, a leash, and an embarrassingly sincere confession: he doesn’t want you wearing them; he wants to, instead.
Word Count: 30k
Genre/Warnings: 18+ MDNI! fluff, smut, tipsy reader, rough sex, leash and collar, Sub!Valko, Switch!Valko, Dom!Valko, Himbo!Valko, scratching, biting, marks, degradation, praise, tail wagging, size kink, mostly Valko being a very happy sub.
A/N: It’s too many words to post! The rest is on my AO3, I fit what I could! Please reblog if you enjoyed. C:
💚 AO3 link | Valko Masterlist 💚
You stood in the kitchen, nervously sneaking yourself a quick cup of wine from the very last of the bottle. It was the expensive one Valko had shown up with just a week ago, the same bottle the two of you had almost polished off in a single night after you’d insisted there was no way you could be intimate without at least a little alcohol in your system.
Looking back on it now, it had only been half true. The first time the two of you had slept together hadn’t involved a single drop of liquor. That had happened just a couple of weeks before, back when the thought of letting anyone touch you that intimately had still felt impossible. You hadn’t known Valko for very long at all, and if someone had told you only a month ago that you’d lose your virginity to a man you’d barely met, you would’ve laughed in their face. It wasn’t something you’d planned, agonized over, or imagined for years. Somehow, in spite of every expectation you’d had for yourself, it had simply…Happened. As strange as it still sounded in your own head, it never once felt like a mistake.
That was probably the most unbelievable part of all, because Valko wasn’t your type. Not even remotely. He was exactly the kind of man you’d usually dismiss with an exasperated roll of your eyes before walking in the opposite direction. Annoying barely scratched the surface. Embarrassing was another word that came to mind; and not because he lacked confidence, but because he had entirely too much of it. He carried himself like he thought every smirk was irresistible and every cheesy line deserved your swooning, constantly trying to act smooth and effortlessly charming around you. The only problem was that he was absolutely terrible at it.
Half the time, his flirting crashed and burned so spectacularly that it somehow looped back around into being…Weirdly endearing. He was a complete dork. An absolute doofus. Brilliant enough to run a company and solve problems that would make your head spin, yet somehow capable of saying the dumbest thing imaginable seconds later with complete sincerity.
You often wondered if he had more muscle than common sense. A walking, talking, six-foot-two beef bag of ADHD with a confidence far bigger than his self-awareness. He made you want to smack him upside the head almost as often as he made you laugh, and somehow, against your better judgment, against your own common sense, against every standard you’d ever claimed to have, you’d let the idiot grow on you. Worse yet, you’d grown so attached in such a ridiculously short amount of time that you sometimes wanted to smack yourself just as hard for letting it happen in the first place.
There was, however, something about him that made it impossible to completely write him off. Buried beneath every eye roll he earned and every moment that had you internally cringing at yourself for finding him even remotely attractive was a man who was so painfully genuine that it was almost disarming.
Valko wore his heart on his sleeve without a shred of shame. He was sincere to a fault, brave in ways that had nothing to do with physical strength, effortlessly funny without always meaning to be, and so unbelievably affectionate that it sometimes left you wondering if he had any concept of personal restraint. He was warm in every sense of the word, always reaching for your hand, your waist, your shoulder; always finding some excuse to be close. He wasn’t embarrassed by the way he looked at you, either. If anything, he seemed determined to make sure everyone around him knew exactly how hopelessly smitten he was. He didn’t hide his feelings behind pride or carefully maintained indifference like so many people did. He flaunted them. Loudly. Shamelessly. Almost ferally. He simped over you with such shameless enthusiasm that it should’ve been embarrassing to witness.
Maybe that’s why you’d tested him so relentlessly. You’d teased him. Picked on him. Deliberately brushed him off whenever he got too close, watching carefully to see if the mask would crack or if the sweetness would disappear the moment you stopped making things easy for him. Part of you wanted proof that it wasn’t just love bombing; that he wasn’t putting on some impossibly charming performance until he got what he wanted. Another part simply wanted to protect yourself. You wanted things to move at your pace, not his. You wanted to decide how much of yourself you gave away and when, to keep enough distance that you could still retreat if things became too overwhelming.
The strange thing was…He never pushed. No matter how much you huffed at him, rolled your eyes, or lightly bullied him for acting like an overgrown puppy desperate for attention, Valko somehow always respected the boundaries you set without ever making you feel guilty for having them. He’d grin, laugh it off, throw another ridiculous joke your way, and wait. Patiently. Like he already knew you’d come back to him when you were ready.
Somehow, despite all your efforts to keep him at arm’s length, he’d managed to slip past every wall you’d tried so carefully to build. He always called it fate. Or biology. According to him, whatever existed between the two of you was something neither of you had any real control over, something instinctive and inevitable that had been pulling you together since the day you met. The first time he’d said it, you’d laughed right in his stupid, punch-bruised face, convinced he was just being his usual dramatic, overconfident self. Now, though…Now you weren’t so sure he was wrong. Maybe he was right about the whole primordial soup theory.
You had just finished the last sip of your wine when a familiar clink echoed from outside, followed by the unmistakable scrape of something bumping against your balcony railing. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, already knowing exactly who it was before you even looked. Oh, for God’s sake. Couldn’t he just use the front door like a normal person?
The man had an actual key, now. He knew how locks worked. Yet, for reasons known only to the giant idiot himself, he seemed to treat your third-story balcony like it was the designated entrance every single time he came over. It was ridiculous. Completely unnecessary. The kind of thing that made you instinctively facepalm before you even laid eyes on him.
…Not that you hadn’t been waiting for him. His late-night Target run had taken longer than expected, and although you’d spent the last hour pretending you weren’t paying attention to the clock, you’d caught yourself glancing at it far more times than you’d ever admit aloud.
Shaking the thought away, you quickly rinsed your wine glass and set it upside down in the drying rack before tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin with a muted clatter. Then you made your way toward the balcony, pulling your lounging robe a little tighter around yourself as the cool night air seeped through the cracks of the sliding glass door. The chill brushed against your bare legs the moment you slid it open, carrying with it the crisp scent of the evening.
And there he was. The giant loser trapped inside an unfairly attractive body. Valko landed on your balcony with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible for a man his size, straightening up with that impossibly pleased grin already stretched across his face. Moonlight spilled over his broad shoulders, catching the gold in his eyes and the sharp points of his teeth as he beamed at you like he’d just returned from some grand expedition instead of a Target run. A plastic shopping bag swung triumphantly from one hand before he held it out toward you like a prize.
“Got the essentials,” he announced proudly, “another bottle of cab, your chocolate pretzels, popcorn, dish soap—”
“—Dish soap??” Your brows knitted together as you crossed your arms, looking up at him with open confusion.
“You were running out,” he replied matter-of-factly, pointing past you through the open glass door toward your kitchen sink before continuing down his mental checklist.
Your attention barely stayed on the words. Instead, your eyes lingered on the way his pointed canines caught the moonlight every time he smiled; that stupid, lopsided smirk somehow managing to look both mischievous and impossibly genuine at the same time.
“I took a little longer than I thought I would cause I realized I needed to grab myself some Swiffer pads,” he continued with a sheepish shrug, “can’t do a Target trip without it turning into a whole mission. Y’know how that goes.”
Before he could stride over and inevitably bend down to nuzzle the top of your head for what had to be the millionth time that night, you planted your palm squarely against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. The contact was almost comical. His chest was ridiculously firm beneath your hand, like trying to hold back a brick wall wrapped in an expensive tank top, yet he froze instantly the moment he realized you were serious.
“My birth control?” You asked, your gaze dropping pointedly to the white Target bag dangling from his hand.
His golden eyes widened. His jaw slowly went slack. For one horrifying, painfully familiar second, he stared off into the distance as though his soul had just left his body to retrace every step he’d taken through the store. Oh, God damn it. You knew that look.
“…Uhhh,” he answered after a beat, still frozen in place as his eyes drifted down toward the bag, “right. Yeah, I got that…I think…”
A slow, weary sigh slipped through your nose.
“I hope so,” you deadpanned, “considering that’s the entire reason you went to Target for me.”
“Don’t worry, I swear I got it,” he flashed you a smile that was far less convincing than he clearly intended before immediately shoving his hand into the bag and beginning to rummage through it with increasing urgency.
Plastic crinkled loudly as bags of snacks, cleaning supplies, and whatever else he’d impulse-bought shifted around.
“Damn it, I swear it’s in here…Hold on,” his movements became faster, more frantic, “would you quit staring at me like that? It’s making me nervous!”
“You should be nervous!” You huffed, folding your arms tighter across your chest as disbelief began replacing your patience, “ugh, don’t tell me you forgot, Valko…”
“I didn’t!” His head snapped up so quickly you almost believed him. Almost, “I—…”
His confidence evaporated just as fast.
“…Oh my God.”
He stopped digging through the bag altogether, horror washing across his face as the realization finally hit him.
“I left it on the pharmacy counter…” He admitted, sounding as though he’d just confessed to a felony, “I was rushing to get back here.”
You let out an exaggerated groan, your entire body sagging with defeated disbelief as you tipped your head back to stare helplessly at the moon hanging overhead. The cool night air brushed across your damp hair and bare legs, but it did nothing to soothe the mounting frustration bubbling inside you. Both hands dragged down over your face until your palms covered your eyes completely.
“Ughhh…Why are you like this?!”
“I told ya,” he defended himself, lifting one shoulder in an apologetic shrug, “I was rushing!”
“Why the rush?!”
The frantic rustling of plastic suddenly stopped. Silence settled between you for a beat before you lowered your hands just enough to peek at him. Valko was staring down at you with an expression that hovered somewhere between confusion and genuine disbelief. He blinked once. Then again. His brows slowly knitted together as though the answer should’ve been painfully obvious.
“…You’re really asking me that,” he said, his voice flat with incredulity, “when you’re standing there in a fucking silk robe of all things…”
His golden eyes drifted over you, lingering for only a second before meeting yours again with maddening confidence.
“And you don’t even have underwear on under it?” He added.
Your breath caught. You actually gasped. How the hell did he know that? For one mortifying second, you instinctively glanced down at yourself as though expecting the robe to have somehow betrayed you. It was tied securely. Nothing was showing. There was absolutely no reason he should’ve been able to tell.
When your gaze snapped back up, he was already looking at you with the single most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen grace his stupidly handsome face. A long sigh escaped him as his broad shoulders relaxed, the tension leaving his body all at once. He straightened to his full height, towering over you beneath the silver wash of moonlight, and looked at you like you were the one asking ridiculous questions.
“C’mon,” he huffed out a short laugh through his nose. One dark brow arched, “seriously? You think I’m stupid or something?”
Your eyes widened. Heat flooded your face so quickly it felt like your cheeks had caught fire, and you immediately folded your arms tighter across your chest as though that might somehow make the situation less embarrassing.
“I-I didn’t think about it,” you stammered, unable to meet his eyes for more than a second, “I just got out of the shower and put on whatever—”
He cut you off with a loud, hearty laugh that echoed across the quiet balcony. His head tipped back, completely unrestrained, while one hand disappeared into his tousled hair, raking through the auburn strands as his shoulders shook. It was almost obnoxious how entertained he looked, his grin stretching so wide that the sharp points of his canines caught the moonlight with every laugh.
“Ohhh, right. Right,” he nodded along dramatically, still chuckling to himself, “and I’m supposed to believe that.”
“I swear!” You insisted, your voice climbing an octave as the accusation landed far closer to the truth than you wanted to admit. You could feel yourself growing flustered by the second, annoyance mixing with embarrassment until your face burned even hotter. The worst part wasn’t that he’d called you out.
It was that he’d read you so effortlessly. Again. He threw both hands into the air in mock surrender, his face contorting into the most exaggerated expression of innocence you had ever seen. Then, as if embarrassing himself came as naturally as breathing, he pitched his voice up into an absurd little imitation of yours. To complete the performance, he even bent one knee and kicked his heavy boot back behind him with theatrical flair.
“I swear! I totally didn’t just drink to calm my nerves right now while you were gone, Valko—”
“—Shut your bitch ass up!” You groaned, launching your palm squarely into his chest with a solid thump.
It accomplished absolutely nothing. His body barely budged beneath the shove, his chest feeling less like a person and more like a brick wall hidden beneath a fitted tank. You hit him again out of pure spite, only for him to laugh harder, the deep, unrestrained sound rumbling in his chest as he casually batted your arm away.
“Oh, c’mon—”
“—No!” You swatted at him again, growing more indignant with every infuriating grin he flashed your way, “don’t think you can distract me from the fact that you forgot my damn birth control!”
“Oh, darn,” he rolled his eyes with enough dramatic flair to deserve an award before hooking the shopping bag over the crook of his elbow. The moment both of his hands were free, they found your wrists with practiced ease.
His grip was enormous. Warm. Firm enough that you couldn’t immediately pull away, yet impossibly gentle all the same, as though he was instinctively careful not to squeeze any harder than necessary. That stupid wolfish grin spread slowly across his face, stretching wider as his golden eyes narrowed with unmistakable amusement.
“Looks like…” He mused, deliberately taking one slow step forward.
You instinctively took one back.
“…I’ll just have to spend tomorrow here with you too…” Another step.
You retreated again, the cool floor beneath your feet giving way toward the warmth spilling from your apartment.
“…If ya want me to pick it up that bad—”
“—I’ll do it myself!” You huffed, finally twisting your wrists just enough to slip free from his hands. The instant you escaped, you spun dramatically on your heel and marched back inside, your robe fluttering around your legs as the warmer air enveloped you.
“Nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-no.”
You’d barely made it two steps. Behind you came the hurried shuffle of boots, followed by the quick scrape of the balcony door sliding shut. You didn’t even need to turn around. You could picture the entire sequence perfectly: Valko setting the Target bag on the floor in a rush before jogging after you with all the grace of an overexcited golden retriever trapped inside the body of a six-foot-two werewolf.
A heartbeat later, his hands settled on your shoulders. Before you could protest, he dipped his head, burying his face against the top of your hair with a long, contented nuzzle. Warm breath stirred the still-damp strands from your shower, and you felt him inhale softly, lingering there for a second as though simply breathing you in was enough to calm him. His broad chest settled against you while those ridiculously muscular arms slid around you, wrapping you up so completely that it felt less like being restrained and more like being swallowed by the world’s warmest weighted blanket. His embrace was impossibly secure without ever being forceful, effortlessly bringing your little storm of indignation to a halt.
“It’s like…” He mumbled into your hair, his voice vibrating softly against the back of your head, “nine o’something. Relax.”
One of his hands gave your side a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ll grab it in the morning for ya. It’s not like you’re missing any days,” a mischievous chuckle slipped past his lips, “y’know…I was totally joking when I made that comment about breeding ya—”
“—Ew!”
You immediately began squirming in his arms, swatting at whatever part of him you could reach while desperately trying, and spectacularly failing, to suppress the laugh bubbling up in your chest. The memory resurfaced far more fondly than you wanted to admit, making your cheeks warm all over again.
“God, don’t remind me, you weirdo…”
You finally managed to twist just enough to point accusingly toward the floor.
“Hey!” Your finger jabbed toward his feet, “boots off. Now.”
He immediately raised both hands in surrender, the picture of exaggerated defeat, “alright, alright.”
With an overly dramatic sigh, he caught himself before taking another step inside. He leaned against the wall to unzip his heavy boots, tugging them off one at a time before neatly lining them up beside the entryway without another word. You couldn’t help noticing how absurdly obedient he became over the smallest things whenever you called him out. For all his bravado, he’d listen the moment you genuinely asked him to do something.
“Weirdo?” He echoed, lifting a skeptical brow as the corner of his mouth curled back into that infuriating grin.
You barely had time to react before he was closing the distance again. Just like a puppy. An oversized, overly affectionate, six-foot-two puppy that apparently had no concept of personal space. Before you could slip away, one powerful arm hooked effortlessly around you. The floor disappeared beneath your feet as he scooped you up as though you weighed next to nothing, bouncing you once into a secure bridal carry that made you instinctively grab onto him for balance. His arm beneath your knees barely flexed under your weight, while the other settled comfortably behind your back, holding you snug against his broad chest.
“There we go,” he murmured with obvious satisfaction.
Without missing a beat, he turned back toward the abandoned Target bag, carrying you with the same ease someone might carry an extra pillow. His stride never faltered, and neither did his eyes. They stayed fixed on you the entire time, molten gold glinting beneath the kitchen lights with that unmistakable spark of mischief dancing inside them.
He lowered his voice, “you were the one begging for me to cum inside of—”
A mortified whine escaped you before your hand shot over his mouth, smothering the rest of the sentence against your palm, “oh my God, no I wasn’t, shut up!”
His smug smile only widened beneath your hand. Of course it did. For one blissful second, you thought you’d successfully silenced him. Then you felt it. A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue across the center of your palm.
“Eugh!” You recoiled on instinct, yanking your hand away with an expression of pure disgust as you stared down at the sheen of saliva now glistening across your skin.
“Mmm,” he smacked his lips with theatrical appreciation, looking altogether too pleased with himself, “salty...”
“You are unbelievable,” you groaned, immediately wiping your hand across the front of the skintight black tank top he always seemed to wear. The soft fabric stretched over his chest as you smeared your revenge across it, earning yourself another amused chuckle instead of the annoyance you’d been hoping for.
He simply laughed under his breath and kept walking, carrying you deeper into the kitchen as though nothing had happened.
“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” you muttered, giving a half-hearted squirm despite making no real effort to escape, “I have legs.”
“I know you do,” his response came so matter-of-factly that you almost missed the absentminded squeeze he gave your thighs where his arm supported them.
It wasn’t suggestive so much as instinctive, his large hand adjusting its grip to keep you comfortably settled against him as he reached the kitchen counter.
“I like carrying ya,” his grin softened into something warmer, his voice losing some of its teasing edge, “what…Am I being too clingy again?”
He tilted his head just slightly, studying your face with an almost playful curiosity. Maybe he was. You were quickly learning that everything about Valko existed at an intensity you weren’t used to. His affection was intense. His attraction was intense. Even the way he simply occupied a room felt larger than life. And yet, somehow, none of it felt calculated. None of it felt performative. If any other man had come on this strongly so early into knowing you, you would’ve written him off immediately. You would’ve called it love bombing without a second thought and started looking for the nearest exit.
With Valko…You couldn’t. There was something strangely uncomplicated about him that made all of it feel…Real. The longer you spent with him, the more you started wondering if this was simply what being a werewolf meant for someone like him. Whether all of that relentless affection, the constant need for closeness, the endless touching, cuddling, nuzzling, and shameless adoration were less of a conscious decision and more of an instinct he never tried to suppress. It reminded you, almost embarrassingly, of a puppy. Loyal to a fault. Endlessly loving. Excitable over the smallest things. Playful. Eager for attention, but just as eager to give it back tenfold. There was something so hopelessly sincere about the way he loved that it became difficult to make fun of him for it…Even though you still absolutely did.
“…I just don’t know you that well yet,” you admitted quietly.
His expression softened immediately. Without complaint, he loosened his hold and carefully lowered you back onto the kitchen floor. Your bare feet met the cool tile with a quiet tap, the lingering warmth from his arms disappearing almost instantly. You hadn’t realized how comfortable you’d been in his embrace until it was gone, and the absence left behind a faint, unexpected sense of loss that you stubbornly refused to dwell on.
The moment you were standing again, the difference in your height returned in full force. He towered over you. It wasn’t just that he was tall; although six-foot-two certainly didn’t help. It was everything else. His shoulders seemed broad enough to block out half the kitchen light whenever he stood too close, his frame filling your tiny apartment in a way that almost looked comical. He always seemed slightly too big for your space, like someone had dropped a grizzly bear into a one-bedroom apartment and expected it to fit comfortably.
And yet…It was beginning to feel normal. His boots by the front door. His leather jacket draped over the back of a chair. His laughter bouncing off your walls. His scent lingering faintly on your blankets long after he’d gone home. Little by little, he was becoming part of your apartment just as much as he was becoming part of your routine. You were growing used to his presence, to the way he naturally commanded every room he entered without even trying. Everything about him felt oversized; his body, his personality, his emotions, his laugh, even the space he occupied simply by existing.
“Fair enough,” there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment in his voice.
He simply smiled with that same understanding warmth that always seemed to catch you off guard before one enormous hand drifted slowly down your arm, his calloused fingertips brushing lightly against your skin in a touch so absentmindedly affectionate it almost seemed unconscious. The simple gesture lingered for only a moment before he stepped aside, giving you room as you turned toward the Target bag resting on the counter. You began unpacking everything one item at a time, setting each purchase in its place while plastic rustled beneath your hands.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower while you do that,” he said casually, “you okay with waiting for me?”
Your eyes drifted toward the fresh bottle of wine sitting on the counter, its dark glass catching the warm kitchen light. Then they found him again. A small, almost helpless smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Your gaze dropped, briefly, but deliberately, to his crotch before lifting back to meet those molten golden eyes.
“…Can you hurry up?” You pouted a bit.
A quiet puff of amusement escaped through his nose, the corners of his mouth twitching upward before he reached over to affectionately ruffle your still slightly damp hair. His fingers lingered for just a second longer than necessary, leaving the strands adorably disheveled.
“Oh?” He teased, his grin growing wider, “someone’s impatient for me tonight…”
The smug satisfaction in his voice made heat creep into your cheeks.
“Fine,” he chuckled, taking a reluctant step backward toward the hallway, “I’ll be fast.”
One finger pointed squarely at you in mock warning.
“Don’t you dare touch that shit without me,” he warned playfully.
Your eyes slowly slid back toward the unopened bottle. Then, just as slowly, they returned to him.
“Oh…” You replied innocently, though the mischievous glint in your eyes ruined the act immediately.
Your fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle while your other hand settled over the cap.
“You mean…” You began twisting it with exaggerated slowness, never once breaking eye contact, “this shit right here?”
His smile faltered. Not completely. Just enough. You watched the muscles along his jaw tighten as his eyes followed the deliberate movement of your hands. The teasing tilt of your head and the arch of your eyebrow only made it worse. For the briefest moment, he simply stared at you, looking like he was actively reconsidering whether he actually needed that shower after all.
You couldn’t help smiling a little wider, “you have ten minutes, Valko.”
The cap gave way with a crisp, satisfying pop.
You held the opened bottle up ever so slightly between the two of you, “so hurry the fuck up already before I—”
“—Ooh, yes, ma’am!” He straightened so quickly it was almost comical, snapping into an exaggerated salute with all the seriousness of an overgrown kid playing soldier. That enormous grin spread across his face again, though the look in his eyes had shifted into something hungrier, more intent, lingering on you in a way that made your stomach flutter despite yourself.
He started backing out of the kitchen, forcing himself to keep moving toward the hallway even as his gaze refused to leave you.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he groaned dramatically over his shoulder, “no need to rile me up like that before I wash up. Now that’s just plain cruel…”
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he disappeared down the hall, “I wasn’t even trying!”
“That’s why you’re so sexy!” He called back from somewhere beyond the corner, his voice echoing through the apartment.
You rolled your eyes with an amused snort, the smile he always seemed to leave behind lingering on your lips as you turned toward the cupboards. Reaching up, you pulled down two wine glasses, setting them gently on the counter beside the newly opened bottle with a pair of soft clinks.
God damn it. That idiot. That absolute moron. That…Fucking handsome wolf of a man. The thought alone made you scoff under your breath. If someone had told you a few weeks ago that you’d be standing in your own kitchen pouring wine for the chairman of EonCore Tech, you probably would’ve laughed yourself sick. If they’d told you that you were sleeping with him? You would’ve called them delusional.
Actually…Were you even just sleeping with him anymore? Dating? Seeing each other? Whatever the hell this was? You honestly had no idea. Neither of you had ever bothered putting a label on it. The conversation had never happened. Somewhere between nearly killing each other and sharing takeout on your couch, the connection had simply…Become whatever it was now. Which was absurd.
The first time you’d ever met Valko, you’d introduced yourself with your fist. Right into his stupidly handsome face. You’d shot at him. Fought him. Fully prepared to treat him like the enemy he’d appeared to be. And somehow, against every ounce of common sense you possessed, you’d ended up in his bed instead.
Or, more accurately…He kept ending up in yours. Somewhere along the way, “just this once” had quietly turned into accepting his invitations for late-night chocolate milkshakes, movie nights that usually ended with the film being ignored halfway through, dinners that lasted far longer than either of you intended because the two of you couldn’t stop talking; or bantering. You’d started letting him into your apartment without a second thought, watching him make himself comfortable like he’d always belonged there. More than once, he’d fallen asleep in your bed, dead to the world, looking so impossibly peaceful that you never quite had the heart to wake him.
You had, however, absolutely screamed at him the first, and thankfully only, time he’d propped those filthy boots up on your couch. He’d learned that lesson remarkably fast. Then there were the pajamas. God. The pajamas. He’d insisted on leaving a spare set at your apartment after “accidentally forgetting” to take them home. You’d seen right through the excuse immediately. There was nothing accidental about it. The idiot had practically engineered an excuse to leave a piece of himself behind. You’d complained. You’d rolled your eyes. You’d called him clingy…And then you’d folded them after washing them instead of tossing them into a bag for him to take home.
Deep down, you hadn’t really minded. Some cruel twist of fate had decided that the man who was supposed to be your enemy would also be the one who treated you with the most gentleness you’d ever known. Beneath all the cocky grins, terrible jokes, and endless teasing was someone endlessly patient with you. Someone playful enough to coax laughter out of you even when you tried to stay irritated. Someone attentive enough to notice when your favorite snacks were running low or your dish soap needed replacing. Someone whose warmth seemed to seep into every room he entered until the apartment felt strangely emptier whenever he wasn’t there.
He was infuriating. Ridiculously intelligent. Hopelessly annoying. And somehow, despite your best efforts, he’d rooted himself somewhere inside your heart before you’d even realized you’d left the door open. You couldn’t seem to get rid of him anymore. Not from your apartment. Not from your routine. And certainly not from your mind. Even his scent seemed to linger long after he’d stepped away; that clean, woodsy warmth that clung to your blankets, your clothes, and even your own skin, refusing to let you forget him no matter how hard you pretended you wanted to.
After pouring two generous glasses of wine, you began unpacking the rest of the Target bag while you waited for Valko to finish showering. One by one, you set everything on the counter; the popcorn, your chocolate pretzels, the dish soap he’d somehow remembered before the one thing you’d actually sent him there for. Then your hand paused. Nestled near the bottom of the bag was a wide black leather collar. A matching leash rested beneath it.
You frowned, “…Huh.”
You picked the collar up for a moment, turning it over in your hands. The leather was soft, well-made, surprisingly expensive by the feel of it. You hadn’t known Valko had any pets. Every time you’d been to his place, you hadn’t seen so much as a food bowl or a stray tuft of fur that wasn’t from his tail. No barking. No scratching at doors. Nothing. Maybe he’d gotten one recently. Or maybe there was something about his life you simply hadn’t learned yet. You shrugged to yourself, setting it back into the bag without giving it much more thought.
With both wine glasses balanced carefully in your hands, you wandered into the living room. You placed one on the coffee table before settling onto the couch with the other, lazily swirling the dark red wine around the bowl of the glass as you searched for something to watch. After picking a movie, you dimmed the lights from your phone until the apartment melted into a warm, amber glow, the television becoming the brightest thing in the room.
The first sip burned pleasantly on its way down. You unconsciously caught yourself smelling your own wrist, then the collar of your silk robe, making sure the fresh scent of your shampoo and body wash still lingered after your shower. Beneath it, you could already feel the alcohol beginning to settle comfortably into your system; not enough to make you drunk, just enough to smooth away the last edges of your nerves. Perfect.
Just as you let yourself sink back against the couch, you heard it. His footsteps. Your attention snapped toward the hallway before you even realized you’d moved. Valko stepped into the dim living room, and your brain immediately forgot whatever movie you’d just put on.
…Oh, he had to be kidding you. That absolute whore. That giant, six-foot-two whore. Fresh from the shower, he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt. His broad shoulders were still faintly damp, tiny droplets of water catching the glow from the television as they disappeared over defined muscles and down the length of his chest. His dark red hair had been hastily pushed back with his fingers, still messy from the towel, leaving a few stubborn strands falling forward again as they slowly dried. His tail looked like he didn’t bother with more than just a towel dry. He looked comfortable in his own skin, carrying himself with the effortless confidence of someone who had absolutely no idea, or perhaps every idea, what he looked like.
The sweatpants weren’t doing you any favors, either. They hung low on his chiseled hips, untied and dangerously relaxed, clinging just enough to outline the powerful lines of his thighs every time he moved. The fabric left very little to the imagination. Even completely soft, you could make out the unmistakable weight and outline of his cock resting naturally against one thick thigh beneath the thin material, shifting subtly with each step he took. Your eyes lingered for a heartbeat longer than they should have before you forced yourself to look away, your face growing warmer by the second. God…Was he even wearing any underwear?
You silently cursed yourself the moment he wandered over and dropped onto the couch beside you. The entire piece of furniture groaned beneath his weight, the cushion dipping so deeply that your body instinctively slid toward him before you even had a chance to brace yourself. It wasn’t enough for him, apparently. The clingy bastard scooted even closer, his thigh bumping yours as the cushion compressed further beneath his massive frame, leaving gravity itself to betray you. You rolled right into his side exactly the way he knew you would. Exactly the way he wanted.
His arm was already waiting. The instant your shoulder bumped into the solid wall of his chest, his arm slipped behind you with practiced familiarity, draping across the back of your shoulders before his broad hand settled comfortably against your upper arm. With one easy squeeze, he pulled you flush against him until every inch of your side was pressed against the lingering warmth of his freshly showered skin. You felt his chest rise beneath your cheek before a slow breath escaped him, almost like relief, as though this simple closeness had been something he’d been craving the entire time he was gone.
“…No shirt?” You challenged, forcing your attention toward the television instead of the man beside you. You lifted your wineglass for another sip, pretending to be deeply invested in whatever opening scene was playing. Looking at the screen felt infinitely safer than looking at him.
A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest. You didn’t just hear it. You felt it. The vibration traveled straight through the side of your face where it rested against him, warm enough to make your heart stutter.
“No panties?” He countered without missing a beat.
Your grip tightened slightly around the stem of your wineglass. Before you could think of a comeback, you felt that enormous hand begin a lazy journey down your side, his palm gliding over the smooth silk of your robe with an almost absentminded confidence. His fingertips traced your waist before slipping lower, until his hand settled squarely over your hip. And then lower still, straight to the round of your ass. Your breath caught. His hand effortlessly spanned over one cheek, giving it an unapologetic squeeze through the thin silk. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric almost instantly, his grip confident without being rough, followed by a contented little sigh that sounded so genuinely indulgent it made your entire body burn.
God. Good God. The casual boldness of it; the way he acted like touching you came as naturally as breathing, sent a rush of heat pooling low in your stomach before you could stop it. Without realizing it, your free hand had found his thigh. Your nails pressed into the thick muscle beneath the soft gray fabric, digging in just enough to make your embarrassment known while you stubbornly refused to look at him. Whether it was retaliation or an unconscious attempt to ground yourself, you couldn’t have said. Valko only laughed softly. The squeeze eased into a gentle pat before his hand lingered exactly where it was, rubbing slow, affectionate circles through the silk as if soothing both of you at once.
You stubbornly kept your eyes on the television. Unfortunately, that didn’t help much. From the corner of your vision, you couldn’t help noticing the way the flickering light from the screen danced across his bare torso before casting shifting shadows over his lap. As he slouched deeper into the couch, spreading his legs comfortably beneath him, the soft fabric of his sweatpants stretched just enough to reveal the steadily growing outline beneath them. A tent. A fucking tent. You immediately took another sip of wine. You were going to need it.
“Aren’t you gonna drink your wine?” You asked, nodding toward the untouched glass sitting on the coffee table.
He blinked, straightening slightly as though you’d just reminded him it existed.
“Oh—yeah,” he let out a sheepish little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “thanks for that.”
Typical. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself. For someone capable of running an entire corporation, the man could forget the most painfully obvious things. You shifted upright just enough to let him lean forward, his broad frame momentarily eclipsing the television as he reached for his glass. The muscles along his back flexed beneath his damp skin before he settled comfortably against the couch again.
His eyes found yours immediately. They always did. A warm smile spread across his face as he lifted his glass toward you, “cheers.”
“Cheers,” you met it with your own.
Crystal clicked softly against crystal before the two of you took a drink together, the rich wine washing pleasantly over your tongue. The second glass was already making you feel looser, the warmth settling comfortably in your chest and lending your curiosity just enough courage to finally ask the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind.
“So…” You began, drawing your legs beneath you as you turned to face him fully.
The movement only seemed to encourage him. Without hesitation, his arm found its familiar place around your waist again, his palm settling against your side as naturally as if it belonged there.
“…What’s with the collar and leash?” A teasing smile tugged at your lips, “are those for you or something?”
The reaction was immediate. The tips of his ears flushed a brilliant shade of red. A moment later, the color spread across his chiseled cheeks as well.
“Oh, shit…” He laughed, ducking his head with an almost bashful smile that looked strangely adorable on someone his size. One hand rubbed absentmindedly along the back of his neck, “well…”
He glanced away for a second before looking back at you.
“I was looking at stuff…And then I got distracted.”
“Uh-huhhh?” You hummed, drawing the word out as you leaned in ever so slightly, your curiosity only growing, “distracted how?”
He shrugged, looking almost sheepish.
“…Thought they looked kinda cool,” he confessed. His fingers absentmindedly traced the stem of his wineglass, “the leather and all.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, unconvinced, “okay…What are you planning to do with them?”
Your mind immediately supplied the worst possible answer. You prayed he didn’t buy them planning to use them on you. Somehow, that felt infinitely more embarrassing than anything else he’d suggested tonight. Instead, a slow smirk spread across his face.
“…I was thinking…” He began, his golden eyes meeting yours with a mixture of confidence and unmistakable amusement, “…You could put them on me tonight.”
Your eyes widened. His hand, still resting comfortably against your waist, slid lower until it settled over your thigh, giving it a slow, reassuring squeeze through the silk of your robe.
“It’d be pretty hot, don’t ya think?” He murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a pleasant shiver crawling up your spine. His thumb idly brushed along the edge of your robe where the silky fabric met warm skin, never rushing the touch, simply lingering there.
You stared at him. Then toward the kitchen. Then back at him again. Your brows knit together as you searched his face for even the slightest hint that he was joking.
“…Wait,” you blinked, “are you serious?”
“Yeah,” there wasn’t a trace of embarrassment in his answer now. Only quiet sincerity.
He took another leisurely sip of his wine before lowering the glass again, his smile softening into something almost impossibly genuine.
“I think you’d be good at it,” his shoulders lifted in an easy shrug. A quiet laugh escaped him, “you know…Yank me around. Boss me around.”
His grin grew just a little wider.
“You already do that,” he tilted his head, amusement dancing in those golden eyes, “but do it with a leash on.”
Oh, God. He was completely serious. You searched his face for the punchline, waiting for that familiar grin to crack into laughter or for him to admit he was messing with you. It never came. Instead, he simply looked back at you with calm, unwavering sincerity, as though he’d just confessed to liking a particular movie instead of telling you he wanted you to put a collar on him. You could only stare. Your expression must have been priceless because, after a few seconds, he finally broke, a warm laugh escaping him as his shoulders bounced.
“What?” He chuckled, “don’t yuck my yum.”
His hand landed lightly against your ass again with an affectionate smack before lingering there, rubbing you through the silk of your robe.
“Everyone’s got their fantasies,” he said with an easy shrug, “this is just one of mine.”
You watched him in stunned silence as he lifted his wineglass again. He took a longer drink this time, humming softly in appreciation as he swallowed before turning his attention back toward the television as if the conversation he’d just started wasn’t completely derailing your brain.
“…You really want me to collar you like a dog?” You asked after a moment, still trying to process the image in your head.
“Yep,” the answer came so simply. So matter-of-factly. Not an ounce of hesitation. Not a trace of embarrassment. Just complete, unshakable honesty.
You blinked at him. Well…You supposed there wasn’t any harm in playing along. Right?
“…Okay,” you said cautiously, your eyes flicking toward the kitchen where the shopping bag still sat before returning to him, “well…In that case…”
A tiny, mischievous smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.
“…Go fetch.”
The reaction was instantaneous. His golden eyes widened so fast it was almost comical. For a split second, every bit of the confident businessman vanished, replaced by something so openly eager that it genuinely reminded you of an excited puppy who’d just been told he was going to the park. The look on his face was so earnest, so shamelessly delighted, that a laugh nearly escaped you.
Your stomach fluttered. There was something strangely endearing about the way he looked at you in that moment, like you’d just handed him the greatest gift imaginable. His grin stretched impossibly wide, revealing every sharp canine as his entire face lit up with barely contained excitement.
“Yes, ma’am…” He answered, the words leaving him with so much obvious satisfaction that it almost caught you off guard.
Still smiling from ear to ear, he rose from the couch in one fluid motion, tossing back the rest of his wine in a single swig before setting the empty glass onto the coffee table with a quiet clink.
“Now…” He said, already turning toward the kitchen, a laugh bubbling in his voice, “that’s what I’m talking about.”
You snorted, covering your face with one hand as a helpless laugh escaped you. God. He was actually doing it. The second you’d given the command, he’d practically sprung off the couch, making quick work of crossing the apartment to the kitchen. You watched him disappear around the corner before returning only moments later with the leather collar dangling from one finger, the matching leash looped casually in his other hand. He twirled the collar absentmindedly as he walked, wearing the biggest, most unabashed grin you’d seen all night.
Your stomach twisted. Not with regret. With the overwhelming realization that he looked entirely too fucking good like this. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t hesitant. If anything, he looked delighted. The way those golden eyes stayed fixed on you as he approached, bright with anticipation and shameless excitement, made something tighten pleasantly low in your stomach. It was impossible to mistake the eagerness written across his face. God, he was way too excited about this.
He flopped back onto the couch beside you, the cushions dipping dramatically beneath his weight as he held both the collar and leash out for you to take. The instant they left his hands, he leaned his elbow onto the back of the couch and rested his head lazily against his palm, looking at you with quiet expectation. He didn’t rush you. Didn’t speak. He simply waited. Smiling. Watching you like you held all the answers. It was unfair. Utterly unfair. Someone had absolutely no business being that ridiculously handsome while looking at you like that.
You cleared your throat, buying yourself a second to gather your composure before your mouth managed to outrun your brain, “…Aren’t you gonna get on the ground for me?”
“Oh,” his brows lifted with genuine, almost delighted surprise.
He straightened immediately, lifting his head from his hand as though he’d just realized he’d skipped an important step.
“Where the hell are my manners tonight?” Hey laughed at himself, “jeez…”
Without another word, he rose from the couch. He came to stand directly in front of you, towering over where you sat. The warm light from the television flickered across the hard planes of his bare chest and shoulders, his damp hair still slightly tousled from the shower. Even standing there so casually, he seemed impossibly large inside your little living room.
“So…” He asked, smiling down at you with complete sincerity, “…Where do you want me?”
You shifted on the couch, crossing one leg over the other in an effort to appear far more composed than you actually felt. The leather collar rested heavily in your hands as you lifted one foot, pointing your toes toward the floor directly in front of you.
“Here,” your voice came out steadier than expected, “right in front of me. On your knees.”
The words seemed to strike something deep inside him. His expression softened into something almost reverent.nWithout the slightest hesitation or trace of self-consciousness, Valko obeyed. His enormous frame lowered smoothly until both knees settled onto the floor between your legs. His hands came to rest neatly atop his thighs with the gear, his back straight, his shoulders relaxed, his head tilted upward so those warm golden eyes could stay on yours. He looked…Happy. Like this was exactly where he wanted to be. Waiting patiently for whatever you decided came next.
Your breath caught. Then your gaze drifted lower. Between the broad spread of his massive thighs, the gray sweatpants left very little to the imagination. Oh. Oh, God. He was completely hard. The thin fabric did absolutely nothing to hide it. Instead, his massive cock clung just enough to reveal the heavy outline resting against one powerful thigh, unmistakably pronounced beneath the loose material. Judging by the way everything shifted beneath the sweats, he clearly hadn’t bothered putting on any underwear after his shower.
Your pulse skipped. Seeing it like this somehow made the memory rush back all at once; just how big he’d been the first time, how overwhelming it had felt, how impossible it had seemed that someone his size fit together with the gentle patience he’d shown you. The sight was almost intimidating. The stupid gray sweatpants only made it worse, outlining him in the most infuriating way possible while he knelt there looking up at you with complete trust, as though he hadn’t just given you one more reason to completely lose your train of thought.
You slowly rose from the couch as you stepped in front of him. Valko’s eyes followed your every movement without hesitation, lifting higher and higher until he was looking up at you from where he knelt between your legs. The look on his face alone nearly made your knees weak. Then his wolf ears appeared. They slipped free from the tousled mess of his still-damp auburn hair with an almost involuntary twitch, both ears perking upright before flicking toward you, completely focused. A heartbeat later, the enormous auburn tail behind him began wagging with absolutely no restraint whatsoever. It swept enthusiastically across your hardwood floor with rhythmic thump, thump, thumps, the fluffy thing practically knocking against your coffee table as though he had forgotten it existed. He wasn’t embarrassed. Not even a little. If anything, he looked positively thrilled.
The sight stole the breath from your lungs. This massive, intimidating werewolf, broad enough to fill your entire field of vision, strong enough to snap you in half without effort, was kneeling obediently in the middle of your living room because you had told him to. Worse yet, he was visibly excited about it, his ears twitching with anticipation while his tail refused to stop wagging.
God…That shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. Yet the warmth already humming through your veins from the wine seemed to spread lower, settling heavily in your stomach as your pulse quickened. Seeing someone so overwhelmingly powerful choose to become so openly, enthusiastically submissive for you awakened something instinctive inside you that you hadn’t known was there.
You extended your hand toward him. Without being asked twice, he immediately placed both the collar and leash into your open palm. His fingers lingered for only the briefest second before withdrawing, and as soon as the leather left his hands, he instinctively lifted his chin, exposing the thick column of his neck without the slightest trace of hesitation. Ready. Waiting. Trusting you completely.
“…Good boy,” you tested quietly.
The effect was immediate. His tail wagged even harder, beating happily against the floor with enough force that you wondered if your downstairs neighbors could hear it. A soft, utterly content little hum vibrated in the back of his throat as his eyes fluttered halfway closed, his expression melting into pure satisfaction. Oh. He really liked that.
Your fingers slipped beneath the leather strap, wrapping it carefully around the thick muscles of his neck. His skin was still warm from the shower, and the faint scent of soap mingled with the clean, woodsy smell that was uniquely his. As you fastened the buckle, he leaned into your touch without thinking, his face brushing gently against your forearm.
Then he nuzzled you. Slowly. Instinctively. The bridge of his nose dragged softly against your skin while his warm breath fanned across your wrist and the inside of your arm, sending goosebumps racing up to your shoulder. You felt him inhale deeply, drawing in your scent with an indulgent sigh so content it almost sounded blissful before you clipped the leash securely onto the metal ring. God…He really was like a wolf. This enormous, ridiculously handsome, hopelessly pathetic man. The biggest loser you’d ever met. And somehow one of the hottest people you’d ever laid eyes on.
The wine had dissolved whatever reservations you’d still been clinging to. There was something intoxicating about standing over him like this. Something about looking down at a man built like solid concrete; a man who could so easily overpower you if he ever wanted to, only to find him waiting patiently for your next instruction instead. The power imbalance made your heartbeat pound against your ribs.
Before you could overthink it, your body acted on pure instinct. You lifted your bare foot from the floor and planted it firmly against the center of his broad chest. At the very same moment, you wrapped the leash once around your knuckles and gave it a deliberate tug. The leather pulled taut. He instinctively leaned forward with it, only for your foot to stop him, pressing firmly against the hard wall of muscle beneath his skin. The pressure forced him to straighten instead, shoulders rolling back as he settled obediently against the restraint.
A quiet sound escaped him. Not quite a gasp. Not quite a whine. Just the smallest, breathless noise of surprise as he swallowed hard. His golden eyes widened, fixed entirely on you, while his lips slowly parted. You could feel the solid resistance of his chest beneath the ball of your foot, every breath expanding against your skin as the leash remained snug between your fingers.
Leaning down until your face hovered just above his, you held his gaze while keeping the collar taut, your voice lowering almost instinctively, “who’s big puppy are you?”
“I’m your big puppy…” He answered without a hint of embarrassment, smiling up at you with such open, earnest delight that it almost stole the breath from your lungs. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his voice. If anything, the words seemed to make him happier, his tail giving another eager series of heavy thumps against your floor while those golden eyes shone with unmistakable excitement.
Oh, God. How were you the one getting shy? Here was the fucking chairman of EonCore Tech, one of the most powerful men you’d ever met, kneeling at your feet in the middle of your living room with a leather collar around his neck, happily calling himself your big puppy like it was the most natural thing in the world. This had to be some elaborate joke. Some bizarre prank. Or maybe he was simply out of his goddamn mind. Then again…Maybe you were.
Because if anyone had told you a month ago that this was where you’d end up, you would’ve laughed until your sides hurt. You would’ve called them delusional. You would’ve sworn there wasn’t a universe where you’d find yourself standing over a gorgeous, towering werewolf with a leash wrapped around your knuckles, feeling…Whatever this was. Except you were. And the worst part? You couldn’t honestly pretend you weren’t enjoying it anymore.
This had long since stopped feeling like harmless teasing or entertaining his ridiculous little fantasy out of curiosity. Somewhere between calling him your puppy and watching his ears perk with excitement, something inside you had shifted. The thrill blooming in your chest wasn’t fake. The confidence coursing through your veins wasn’t an act. Every racing heartbeat, every flutter low in your stomach, every pulse of adrenaline humming beneath your skin felt achingly real. You felt…Alive. More alive than you had in a long time.
Your heart hammered so loudly against your ribs that you were painfully aware of it. And he could hear it. Of course he could. With those heightened senses of his, there was no hiding the quickened rhythm pounding inside your chest. No disguising the subtle hitch in your breathing or the warmth creeping into your face. If he could smell your shampoo from across the room, there was no chance he was missing the fact that you were just as excited as he was.
A soft chuckle rumbled up from deep in his chest, low and warm, as though he’d caught onto your thoughts without you saying a single word. His eyes glimmered knowingly as one large hand lifted from his thigh and curled gently around your bare foot where it rested against his chest. His touch was impossibly careful despite the size of his hand, his thumb brushing absentmindedly across your toes while he looked up at you with that same hopelessly eager smile.
“Am I a good boy?”
You nearly laughed. Of course he was fishing for praise. The shameless little attention whore. You could practically see the anticipation written across his face, the hopeful twitch of his ears, the lazy sweep of his tail across the floor betraying just how badly he wanted to hear it. Ordinarily, you would’ve teased him. Made him work for it. But…You were having entirely too much fun. Far too much fun to deny him. And far too much fun to keep pretending that you weren’t enjoying every ridiculous second of this strange little game the two of you had somehow stumbled into together. Whatever this was…It was weird. It was completely unexpected. And, against every ounce of common sense you possessed…It was wonderful.
“You’re my good boy,” you murmured, the words leaving your lips almost experimentally as you dared to reach down and scratch beneath his chin.
The reaction was immediate. His entire body seemed to melt beneath your touch. You watched his pupils bloom until they nearly swallowed the gold of his irises, his heavy eyelids drifting halfway shut as a deep, contented hum vibrated in his throat. His wolf ears twitched eagerly against his damp hair, and his tail resumed its relentless thumping against the floor with enough enthusiasm that it almost became distracting. The sight was so unexpectedly adorable that a helpless giggle escaped you before you could stop it, your stomach fluttering with nervous excitement. At the very same time, however, an entirely different kind of warmth spread between your thighs, growing hotter by the second until your pulse seemed to settle there. The steady hum of arousal made your clit buzz. Christ…This was so much more exhilarating than you ever could have anticipated.
“So, do I get a treat?” He asked, his voice noticeably rougher now, lower and thicker than before.
As he spoke, his gaze slowly drifted downward. That’s when it clicked. Your robe. The position you were standing in. Your bare foot braced against his chest. Oh, God. He had an unobstructed view. Every ounce of confidence you’d borrowed from the wine threatened to evaporate as you realized he’d been able to see beneath your robe this entire time. Judging by the way his expression subtly shifted, he had only just put the pieces together himself. His breathing deepened almost imperceptibly before the large hand resting around your ankle began moving with deliberate slowness, guiding your foot upward over the hard planes of his bare chest. His palm slid carefully beneath your calf until your foot came to rest against the broad curve of his shoulder instead.
The shameless bastard. He’d spread your leg just enough to improve the view. His sharp canines peeked from behind an unmistakably pleased smile as those molten golden eyes lingered without even pretending otherwise, drinking in the sight of you with an intensity that made heat rush through your entire body. Fine. If he was going to be that bold…Then you were going to remind him exactly who was wearing the collar.
With a quick flick of your leg, you pulled your foot free from his shoulder before planting it squarely against the growing hardness beneath his gray sweatpants. The reaction was instantaneous. Both of his hands flew to your calf on pure instinct, wrapping around it protectively with a firm squeeze as surprise flashed across his face. The moment he was distracted, you slipped your free hand beneath the silk robe, your fingertips gliding between your thighs.
Your breath caught. God, your pussy was soaked for him. Your fingers came away glistening, slick with your own arousal, and the realization alone sent another pulse of heat through your body. Using the solid pressure of your foot against his crotch for balance, you leaned closer until you were hovering just above him. Then, without warning, you pressed your slick fingertip against his lips.
“Aw, is this what you wanted?” You teased sweetly.
His eyes widened for only a heartbeat before the surprise dissolved into unmistakable bliss. A low, appreciative moan escaped him as his lips parted without hesitation, drawing your finger into his mouth all the way to the knuckle. His sculpted cheeks hollowed around it as he sucked greedily, those glowing golden eyes never leaving yours, their hungry, devoted gaze making it painfully obvious just how much he was enjoying every second of it.
You couldn’t help giggling as the warmth of his tongue glided over your fingertip, the slick, shameless enthusiasm of it making your stomach flutter all over again. He looked far too content, far too pleased with himself, and judging by the way those massive hands suddenly tightened around your calf, he had every intention of ending your little game right then and there by dragging you down into his lap.
“Oh, no you don’t,” you scoffed.
Before he could pull you in, you slipped your leg free from his grasp with a quick twist, earning yourself an unmistakably annoyed look. His brows knit together as those golden eyes flashed up at you, the frustration on his face almost comically puppy-like. Rather than letting you escape entirely, one of his hands immediately shot upward and caught your wrist instead.
His grip was warm. Secure. Careful. Without a word, he guided your hand back toward himself until your palm was cradling the side of his face. His eyes fluttered closed for a brief second as though he were savoring the contact before his lips found your finger again. This time, he drew it deeper into his mouth with an indulgent hum, his tongue lazily sweeping over every trace of your slickness with such unabashed appreciation that your pulse skipped. The way he looked up at you while tasting you, completely devoted, completely unashamed, made your face burn hotter than the wine ever could.
“Well…” You slowly slid your finger free with a quiet pop, watching the obvious disappointment cross his features before a grin spread across your own face, “…Come and get it, then, boy.”
You lifted your foot away from where it had been pressing against the bulge beneath his sweatpants before giving the leash a playful tug, encouraging him back onto his feet. He rose immediately, towering over you once again, and you could practically see the intent settling into his expression. His shoulders rolled forward ever so slightly, his hands already beginning to reach for your waist.
Oh, absolutely not. Before he could scoop you up into those ridiculously strong arms and march you straight to the bedroom, you darted backward with a laugh, tightening your grip on the leash as you spun on your heel and took off. The leather pulled taut. He followed without hesitation. Your laughter echoed through the apartment as you hurried down the hallway, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste while the leash bounced lightly between you. Behind you came the heavy, unmistakable sound of his footsteps, quick enough to tell you he was letting you run rather than struggling to keep up. You barely made it into the bedroom. The moment you turned, he was already there.
You barely had time to think before those enormous hands found your hips. You squealed. One effortless motion was all it took. He lifted you clean off the floor as though gravity simply didn’t apply to you, tossing you lightly upward with a confidence that would’ve terrified you if you didn’t trust him so completely. For a fleeting second, you were weightless before your back met the mattress with a soft bounce that sent the bed springs protesting beneath you.
You barely had time to laugh. He was already moving. With an eager grin that exposed every sharp canine, Valko practically pounced after you, following you onto the bed with all the restrained enthusiasm of an oversized wolf who’d finally been invited to play, “there’s my prized meal…”
The mattress dipped dramatically beneath his sheer size, forcing another startled bounce from you as the frame let out a loud, complaining creak under the sudden addition of well over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. The entire bed seemed to groan beneath him.bYou found yourself trapped in an instant. The mattress behind you. His broad body above you.
For all the obedience he’d shown moments ago, there was no mistaking the shift that had come over him now. The playful restraint remained, but beneath it you could feel something instinctive waking up, something impossible to ignore as he loomed over you, filling your entire field of vision with that enormous frame and those bright golden eyes that never once looked away.
You barely had time to suck in a breath before you gasped, “hey! Don’t break the—”
He stole the rest of the sentence straight from your mouth. His lips crashed against yours with all the pent-up eagerness he’d been restraining since the moment you’d collared him, silencing your protest beneath a kiss that was warm, demanding, and impossibly hungry. The force of his body settling over yours made the mattress dip even deeper, the bed creaking beneath his sheer size as he caged you in completely. There was nowhere for you to go. His broad chest blanketed your own, his powerful frame fitting over you so completely that your thighs instinctively parted around his hips simply to accommodate him. He felt impossibly solid, like a wall of living muscle pressing you into the mattress, yet every ounce of that overwhelming weight was carefully controlled, supported by the strength in his arms as he held himself just enough above you to avoid crushing you.
God…You’d missed this. The realization struck with almost embarrassing force. You’d been craving him far more desperately than you’d allowed yourself to admit over the past week. You’d missed the heat radiating from his body, the reassuring weight of him draped over you, and the way his touch never seemed hesitant. His enormous hands wandered over you with shameless familiarity, slowly mapping every curve of your waist, your hips, your sides, your breasts, as though reacquainting themselves with a place they’d longed to return to. There was something almost possessive in the way he touched you, not demanding ownership, but expressing unmistakable adoration, his palms lingering wherever they landed as though simply feeling your skin beneath them brought him comfort.
A slow, satisfied sigh escaped him into the kiss, the warm breath brushing across your cheek before he deepened it again, “God, more…”
His mouth moved against yours with eager enthusiasm, his tongue coaxing yours into a rhythm that quickly left your thoughts scattered. Every so often, the sharp edges of his canines caught your lower lip just enough to send a pleasant shiver racing through you, never enough to hurt, only enough to remind you exactly what he was. The sensation made your pulse flutter wildly beneath your skin.
A helpless little moan escaped you before you could swallow it back. The sound only seemed to encourage him. His broad chest shifted against your bosom as he adjusted his weight, the solid muscles beneath his skin gliding heavily over your breasts before settling lower. Between your parted thighs, you could already feel the unmistakable evidence of his excitement pressing insistently against you through the remaining fabric, and your stomach tightened in anticipation at the familiar sensation.
Patience had clearly abandoned Valko. Without breaking the kiss, his hands found the knot securing your silk robe. His fingers fumbled with it for only a moment before giving up entirely, tugging impatiently until the sash came loose. The silky fabric immediately relaxed beneath his hands, and with one firm pull he opened the robe, exposing you to the warm glow spilling in from the living room.
Only then did he finally break the kiss. Not to pause. Simply to help you out of it faster. His lips brushed your jaw and cheek in fleeting, absentminded kisses while he guided the robe from your shoulders, easing it down your arms before letting it slip away entirely. The leather leash clipped to the collar around his neck swayed between the two of you with every movement, occasionally brushing your skin as it hung forgotten against his chest.
For the first time since tumbling into the bedroom, the frantic rush slowed just enough for the two of you to really look at one another. His golden eyes traveled over you with open admiration, taking you in without the slightest attempt to hide how beautiful he thought you were.
“Shit, you’re perfect…” He said, shaking his head in disbelief.
You found yourself doing exactly the same, your gaze tracing the broad planes of his chest, the defined lines of his abdomen, the water still clinging to the faint dusting of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. There was an urgency between you now, but it wasn’t frantic; it was the impatient excitement of two people who’d spent the entire evening building toward this moment.
Your discarded robe landed somewhere beside the bed. At nearly the same moment, Valko shoved his sweatpants down with little regard for where they ended up, too focused on you to care where they fell. Your heart lurched the instant your eyes dropped between his powerful thighs. God. You remembered he was big. You had not remembered just how big. The sight of him stole the air from your lungs all over again. His erection rested heavily against his thigh, impossible to ignore and even harder to look away from. Every instinct told you not to stare, yet your gaze betrayed you anyway, lingering just long enough for him to catch it.
Of course he caught it. The smug bastard. That familiar smirk slowly spread across his face, lazy and self-satisfied, his golden eyes glittering with unmistakable amusement as he watched your expression give you away. You knew that look. You could’ve smacked that grin clean off his face like you’d threatened to the first time you’d seen him naked, and the infuriating part was that he’d probably enjoy every second of it. He’d only laugh, call you a feisty little woman, and grin even wider while you scolded him, somehow managing to look even more turned on by your irritation than your admiration. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible.
“See something you like there? Well, don’t even think about it,” he murmured, giving a slow shake of his head as he looked down at you.
His own breathing had already deepened. Each steady inhale broadened his chest before slowly escaping again, and despite his teasing, his eyes wandered freely over your body with an openness that made heat bloom beneath your skin. There wasn’t an ounce of shame in the way he admired you. His gaze lingered over every curve as though he were trying to commit you to memory all over again.
Then he leaned closer. Close enough that his lips nearly brushed your ear. You felt the corner of his mouth curl into another grin against your skin before he drew in a slow, deliberate breath, inhaling your scent so deeply that it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Warm breath ghosted over the sensitive shell of your ear, and the low rumble of his voice vibrated pleasantly through you, raising goosebumps from your shoulders all the way down your arms.
“You can have your bone after I eat a full meal,” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation, “I’m fucking starving for ya…”
Your breath hitched. God. That fucking bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how unfairly seductive that voice became when it dropped into that low, gravelly register. He knew how shamelessly he weaponized every heightened sense he possessed, and judging by the satisfied glint in his eyes, he also knew exactly what it was doing to you. There was no hiding it from someone like him. He could hear your pulse hammering wildly in your chest. He could smell the rush of adrenaline blooming across your skin, the nervous excitement, the growing arousal that your body betrayed long before your pride ever would.
And the asshole was enjoying every second of it. Fine. If he wanted to play that game… So could you. Your hands planted firmly against his broad chest, and with a determined shove you forced him backward. It wasn’t enough to truly overpower someone his size, but it was enough to make your point. At the same time, you tightened the leather leash around your knuckles and gave it a sharp tug. The collar pulled taut. His body followed the motion. He could’ve resisted without the slightest effort. Instead…He let you. A pleased laugh escaped him as he surrendered to the pull, allowing himself to rock backward onto the mattress. There wasn’t a trace of reluctance in him. If anything, the eager brightness in his golden gaze only intensified, his ears flicking forward and the corners of his mouth lifting into an almost boyishly delighted smile.
You climbed over him before he had the chance to recover, settling yourself astride his hips while keeping the leash snug in your hand. The leather remained taut between your fingers as you looked down at him, and the sight that greeted you made your stomach flutter all over again. He looked…Happy. Not merely entertained. Not humoring you. Genuinely, wholeheartedly happy to be exactly where he was; beneath you, looking up at you with complete trust, his expression glowing with the unmistakable excitement of someone whose fantasy was unfolding exactly as he’d imagined it. Somehow, seeing that look on his face thrilled you almost as much as having him there beneath you.
“That’s all you ever think about, huh?” You teased, though the words came out far more breathless than you’d intended.
You shifted your weight, trying to steady yourself atop him, but it wasn’t exactly easy when Valko’s body was so broad beneath you. His chest alone seemed wide enough to support your entire torso, and straddling him left your knees spread farther apart than you were accustomed to. It should have made you feel awkward. It probably did. Yet the warmth radiating from his body, the unwavering way he looked up at you, and the wine still humming pleasantly through your veins left very little room for self-consciousness.
He answered with an amused grin, “how’d you know?”
You couldn’t help noticing, once again, just how enormous he was. Even lying flat on his back, he dominated the bed with his size, his shoulders stretching across the mattress while his hips pressed insistently against the insides of your thighs as you climbed higher. Every movement required you to brace yourself against solid muscle, and despite how ridiculous the logistics of it all should have felt, neither of you seemed to care. If anything, Valko looked utterly captivated, his golden eyes tracking your every movement with eager anticipation, his breathing growing deeper the closer you came.
Looking down at him, there was really only one thing on your mind. He’d spent the entire evening hinting about how starved he was, shamelessly telling you exactly what he wanted, and if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to give it to him just as badly. The realization emboldened you. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the strange confidence that had settled over you ever since you’d fastened that collar around his neck. Whatever it was, it drowned out the timid part of your mind that normally would’ve second-guessed every move.
This time…You were the bolder one. Without another word, you continued climbing higher until your body was positioned directly over his face. Your robe had long since been discarded, leaving nothing between the two of you, and as you settled yourself there, your soaked pussy hovered only inches above his chiseled features. The change in his expression was instantaneous. His eyes widened with unmistakable surprise, the confident grin faltering as realization finally caught up with him. For perhaps the first time all night, you’d genuinely caught him off guard, and the sight of it sent a thrill racing through your chest.
A slow, satisfied grin spread across your own face, “just something about the way you look at my pussy…”
You couldn’t look away. His throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed, his lips parting ever so slightly while his gaze remained hopelessly fixed on you. For all his teasing bravado, he suddenly looked almost weak with hunger, every instinct written plainly across his face. His nostrils flared with a slow inhale, and before he even realized he was doing it, another followed, deeper than the first. His entire focus had narrowed to the warmth and scent hovering just above him. A faint sheen of saliva gathered behind the points of his fangs as he stared shamelessly upward, looking so openly greedy that it made your stomach tighten with excitement.
“I can’t help myself…” He whispered, licking his lips, “it’s so pretty…Just wanna eat this thing.”
The poor, shameless ball of greed. His enormous hands rose almost reverently to your hips, spreading wide enough to engulf them as his thumbs stroked unconsciously over your skin. He didn’t try to force you down. He simply held you there, breathing you in with an expression that bordered on worship, as though he was trying to savor every second before he was allowed to taste you.
“In that case…” You reached down with your free hand, threading your fingers deep into the roots of his damp auburn hair. Your grip tightened deliberately, earning a soft sound from the back of his throat as you gently but firmly guided his attention upward whenever his eyes threatened to drift back between your thighs, “…Eat up, pup.”
Still holding him firmly by the roots of his damp auburn hair, you lowered yourself the final few inches with agonizing slowness, watching every flicker of anticipation ripple across his face. His warm breath washed over your soaked pussy first, the slow exhale sending a delicious shiver up your spine before his lips finally met you. The instant they did, they parted eagerly, welcoming you with a reverence that bordered on worship.
The moan that escaped him wasn’t something you merely heard. You felt it. It vibrated hotly against your folds, muffled beneath you as though he couldn’t contain himself. His brows knotted high across his forehead in immediate bliss, golden eyes fluttering shut while his fingers buried themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, gripping you with enough firmness to anchor you without ever trying to restrain you.
“Mmph…” He groaned shamelessly into you, the words smothered against your slick heat, “ruin me…”
The plea barely had time to register before his mouth truly went to work. He drew a deep, greedy suck from your pussy, his lips sealing around you with unabashed hunger as he pulled your swollen clit past them. A heartbeat later, his thick tongue rose to meet it, flattening beneath you before giving it a slow, indulgent slap that made your entire body jolt. The sensation ripped a helpless gasp from your throat. Every deliberate stroke that followed was hot, wet, and impossibly eager, his tongue lapping at you with the enthusiasm of a starving man finally being allowed his first meal.
Your jaw dropped. Heat exploded low in your belly, racing through your body so intensely your thighs trembled around his head. You couldn’t stop watching him. The expression on his face was almost more intoxicating than what he was doing to you. His features had softened into pure ecstasy, every satisfied hum vibrating directly into your cunt as though your pleasure and his had become hopelessly tangled together. He looked utterly consumed by it; worshipping, devouring, indulging with such shameless greed that your pulse hammered louder with every passing second.
“O-oh…Fuck…” You sighed breathlessly.
Your free hand, still looped through the leather leash, instinctively found the large hand resting on your hip, your fingers curling around his for balance as your knees threatened to weaken. Your other hand remained fisted in his hair, guiding him almost instinctively, though he hardly needed the direction.
You couldn’t help yourself anymore. With a needy little whimper, you smothered yourself more fully onto his waiting mouth, your hips beginning to move of their own accord. Your clit rolled helplessly across the broad heat of his tongue as you ground yourself against him in slow, desperate circles, chasing every delicious stroke he offered. His answering groan vibrated straight through you, his mouth never relenting, only encouraging you further as he eagerly met every movement with devoted enthusiasm.
“Just like that…” You breathed, your voice already breaking into uneven little sighs, “just…Like that…Val…”
Your fingers tightened gently in his hair, holding him exactly where you wanted him as another wave of pleasure rolled through you.
“Mmm,” you moaned, melting into a smile, “yeah, Valko…”
The instant his own name left your lips, he answered with a hungry, eager pull that made you yelp. Your entire body buckled. Instinctively, your hips tried to lift away from the overwhelming rush of sensation, but his hands clamped firmly around your hips, the sheer size of them engulfing your waist as his fingers dug into the softness of your flesh. There was no forcefulness in the grip; only determination. He simply refused to let you escape.
“Mmph…” The pleased sound vibrated straight through your soaked pussy.
He shook his head slowly between your thighs, his mouth never leaving you for even a second. The movement dragged your slickness shamelessly across his lips, his cheeks, and the sharp line of his jaw until your arousal glistened openly against his skin. His face was becoming an absolute mess beneath you, and judging by the blissful expression he wore, he couldn’t have cared less.
Another helpless shudder raced through you when the faint roughness of his jaw brushed against the insides of your thighs. He’d shaved this morning. Already, the first hint of stubble had begun to return, and every tiny scrape against your sensitive skin sent another wave of delicious heat rolling through your belly. It prickled just enough to make you gasp, your thighs twitching around his head as goosebumps erupted over your arms.
You couldn’t help yourself. Your hips rolled forward in search of him, desperately chasing the broad, wet heat of his tongue as though your body had forgotten how to do anything else. That’s when he looked up at you. Shit. Oh…Shit. His golden eyes rose beneath the furrow of his heavy brows without his mouth ever stopping. The look he gave you from between your thighs was so devastatingly hungry, so openly devoted, that it stole every coherent thought from your head. His pupils had widened until the gold around them burned brighter than before, every ounce of restraint gone as he stared up at you like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.
The sight hit you like a physical blow. Goosebumps raced across your skin. Your nipples tightened instantly. Your fingers buried themselves deeper into his damp auburn hair before you even realized you’d moved. A broken moan spilled from your lips just as his mouth closed around you again, taking another deep, greedy suck that ended in an obscenely wet smack against your folds. The sound echoed shamelessly through the room, loud enough to make your face burn, yet all it accomplished was sending another violent shiver straight through your body.
Christ…You almost hated how good it felt. How unbelievably hot it was. How every filthy, messy second of it made your pulse race harder. How much you’d missed this. How desperately you’d been craving the broad slap of his tongue against your pussy, the hot breaths that became trapped beneath the press of his nose against your sex before spilling back over your slick skin, the relentless squeeze of those enormous hands anchoring you against him as though he wanted every ounce of your weight bearing down on his face. As though drowning beneath you was exactly where he wanted to be.
It was driving you insane. Your skin had begun to glisten with sweat. Your breathing came in uneven little gasps. The room seemed to blur pleasantly around the edges until all that existed was the heat between your thighs and the starving man beneath you. Acting on nothing but instinct, you tightened your fist in his hair and gave a firmer tug, guiding his head from side to side as your hips followed the movement in slow, needy circles. A soft, sultry giggle escaped you before you could stop it, carried on another shaky breath as you watched his eyes roll blissfully back for a heartbeat, his expression melting into pure pleasure as eagerly as your own. God. The shameless idiot actually liked it when you played rough with him.
“Good boy,” you praised softly, smiling down at him as his blissed-out eyes struggled to stay focused on yours. His lips glistened, his cheeks were slick with the mess he’d so enthusiastically made of himself, and somehow he still managed to look shamelessly pleased, “eat this little pussy like you mean it…”
The praise alone seemed to undo him. A pleased, muffled groan vibrated through your folds before one of his enormous hands slid away from your hip. The other remained firmly hooked around your waist, pulling you down against him with unmistakable need. His broad palm spread possessively across your stomach while his thumb slipped lower, finding just the right place to draw your body open even farther for him. The movement exposed your clit completely to his warm mouth, and he responded immediately, burying himself against you with renewed enthusiasm.
God. The absolute state of him. His mouth had become delightfully filthy, glistening with your arousal as he kissed, licked, sucked, and slurped with such greedy abandon that it almost made you laugh. Every eager sound he made seemed to vibrate directly through you, every satisfied hum melting into another hungry kiss as though no amount of tasting you could ever possibly be enough. He was insatiable. Utterly, hopelessly insatiable.
Then something else caught your attention. Beneath you, his body gave the faintest tremor. At first you thought it was another shiver of pleasure, but then you felt it again; a subtle, rhythmic movement traveling through his torso. One of his shoulders shifted differently than before, and somewhere behind your hips, his free arm was moving. Back. And forth. Your curiosity got the better of you. Twisting just enough to glance over your shoulder, your breath caught in your throat. Oh…God. Ohhh, God. The shameless bastard was jacking himself off.
His fist was wrapped firmly around the thick base of his impossibly hard cock, stroking himself with obvious desperation while he refused to stop eating you for even a second. Every slow pump of his hand looked driven by pure instinct, as though he simply couldn’t bear not to touch himself while he had you sitting on his face. The flushed head gleamed beneath the dim bedroom light, swollen and angry with arousal, a bead of precum gathering at the tip before slowly trailing downward along the smooth skin.
The sight stole every coherent thought from your mind. Your lips parted. A tiny gasp escaped you before you could stop it. God…That fucking pervert. That deliciously shameless, wolfish pervert. The realization sent another rush of heat straight through your body. Unable to stop yourself, you turned back toward him with an amused grin spreading helplessly across your face. A breathless laugh bubbled from your chest as your eyes met his again, silently telling him you’d caught him. He didn’t even look guilty. If anything, his eyes softened with embarrassed delight, the corners of them crinkling as he looked up at you through heavy lashes, still devotedly buried between your thighs. The idiot.
You rewarded him by settling more of your weight onto his waiting mouth, pressing down just firmly enough to earn another blissful groan against your slick folds. His eyelids fluttered closed for a heartbeat before rolling open again, every ounce of euphoria written plainly across his face. The hand that had been spread across your stomach abandoned it entirely, sliding instead to grip your thigh with eager urgency. His fingers flexed against your skin, encouraging every slow roll of your hips as you ground yourself against his mouth, his own movements matching yours with relentless enthusiasm while a pleased smile stretched beneath the wet, messy press of your folds against his lips.
He let out a husky groan, “crush me.”
“You love it that much, huh?” You teased, unable to hide the grin tugging at your lips.
He nodded without an ounce of shame. Slowly, deliberately, you lifted your hips just enough to deny him what he’d been greedily chasing. The loss drew an immediate reaction. He inhaled deeply, almost desperately, drawing your scent into his lungs with an indulgent breath that made his chest rise beneath you. His mouth parted instinctively, chasing after you before you could pull completely away. You bit back a smile. The moment his face was exposed again, your palm came down with playful slap against his damp cheek.
“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” you slapped him again, making sure you were clear, “you hear me, Valko?”
A needy sound escaped him before he even answered. His hand immediately tightened around you, already trying to pull you back down, his enormous palm guiding your hip toward his waiting mouth as though the separation physically pained him. Despite the command you’d just given him, his face was beautifully ruined; flushed a deep crimson, lips swollen and glistening, your slick shining shamelessly across his mouth, his jaw, and the bridge of his large nose. The sight alone made your pulse flutter.
“Yeah, yeah, I got ya,” he laughed breathlessly, tugging at your hips again with impatient enthusiasm, “now come he—”
“-I mean it,” your voice dropped into something firmer.
The leather leash looped around your knuckles once more before you gave it a sharp, deliberate pull. The collar tightened. His neck followed obediently, the movement drawing his chin upward until those glowing golden eyes met yours again. They widened just a fraction, not with fear, but with unmistakable delight. You could practically see the excitement flash across his face as the leash grew taut between your hand and the thick leather circling his neck.
Leaning down, you held his gaze without wavering, “I’ll kill you.”
The threat only made him laugh. Not nervously. Not cautiously. He laughed like you’d just whispered the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. His eyes gleamed beneath the dim light, bright with playful mischief as one corner of his mouth curled into an infuriating smirk. The hand resting on your thigh slowly wandered higher, sliding around to the small of your back with lazy confidence.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he muffled between your slick folds.
Before you could think of a comeback, his hand suddenly pressed firmly against your lower back. The shove caught you completely off guard. A startled gasp escaped you as your balance disappeared beneath you, your body pitching forward until you landed squarely back onto his waiting mouth. Your hands flew out on instinct, scrambling desperately for the leather headboard before your face could follow, your fingers wrapping tightly around the wood as your back arched from the sudden movement.
The new position changed everything. Your spine curved naturally, lifting your hips higher without you meaning to. Your ass was presented directly to him. As though he’d been waiting for exactly that. The hand that had been wrapped around his own cock abandoned it without hesitation, joining the other so both of those enormous hands could spread greedily across your ass. They engulfed you completely, each palm spanning your cheeks before squeezing with open appreciation.
You gasped. His fingers dug into the soft flesh just hard enough to make your breath catch, the pressure toeing the delicious line between rough and careful. Every fingertip pressed into you with unmistakable hunger, kneading you as though he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch first, while another muffled groan vibrated hotly against your slick folds, making your entire body shiver in response.
SMACK!
The sharp crack rang through the bedroom, loud enough to bounce off the walls of your tiny apartment. His palm landed squarely across your ass from beneath you, the sting blooming instantly into delicious warmth as the impact rippled through the soft flesh of your hips. The force of it sent a shiver racing up your spine, your entire backside jiggling helplessly beneath his enormous hand. Even your breasts bounced where they hung above him, your body responding to the strike before your mind had the chance to catch up.
A startled gasp tore from your throat. Beneath you, you felt his chest rumble with a deeply satisfied chuckle. The sound melted into another shameless kiss. A loud, wet smack echoed obscenely through the room as his lips found your clit again with unabashed enthusiasm, the heat of his mouth wrapping around you before his tongue swept over you in a slow, indulgent stroke that made your entire core twitch. Every eager sound he made seemed amplified by how close you were to him; the greedy slurps, the satisfied hums, the wet smacks of his mouth against your soaked cunt, all of it vibrating straight through your body until your thighs quivered around his head.
God…He was making an absolute mess of you. His hands spread across your ass again, engulfing both cheeks so completely that you almost laughed at how easily he held you. His fingers disappeared into the softness of your flesh as he squeezed with open appreciation, kneading you firmly enough to make your breath hitch. The pressure spread you apart beneath his hands, exposing you even more to the relentless attention of his mouth.
The greedy bastard. He wasn’t merely holding you anymore. He was guiding you. Every squeeze of his hands encouraged your hips to move, and before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself rolling against him with slow, helpless need. Your body instinctively chased the broad heat of his tongue as it slapped eagerly against your swollen clit, each upward stroke coaxing another broken breath from your lips.
You were riding his face now. Completely. Hopelessly. The rhythm had stopped belonging to either of you individually somewhere along the way. Every time your hips rolled forward, he eagerly met you, his mouth opening wider to welcome you while his tongue continued its relentless work. It felt less like he was following you and more like the two of you had fallen into the same desperate, instinctive rhythm without ever needing to think about it.
A moan climbed your throat. You tried to swallow it. You really did. But it only escaped louder, trembling from your lips despite your best efforts to keep quiet inside your tiny apartment. Your head fell back. Your eyes rolled shut. Your fingers clung desperately to the headboard, nails digging into the wood until your knuckles turned shaky as your back arched even higher. Every wet pull of his lips, every greedy suck that lingered just a little too long, every shamelessly loud kiss he pressed against your pussy sent another violent tremor through your body. The sounds should have embarrassed you.
They almost did. Almost. Because every filthy, messy noise he made only drove you higher, sending wave after wave of pleasure surging up your arched spine before crashing back down through your trembling thighs. His hot breaths became trapped beneath the press of his nose against your front, warming you between every eager inhale, while the steady strength of his hands kept you anchored exactly where he wanted you. As though he’d never let you leave if he had the choice.
AO3 link because I can’t fit the rest 💚 but please repost if you enjoy!
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