ji

“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.” 

“Ohgod—! Valko —mmhp. . I- I need a break!” You hiccup out through loud wails and breathless moans, shivering and trembling widely from the overwhelming pleasure Valko has bringing for hours after hours. 

Your voice is completely battered and high pitched from how much you’ve been screaming in ecstasy every time Valko forces his thick cock into your drooling hole, pushing you over the edge over and over until he’s reduced you into a babbling mess. Godd. . how long has it been since your boyfriend trapped you on the bed?

Keeping you immobilized in the meanest mating press, rough hands splayed on the underside of your soft thighs— forcing your thighs to stay glued to your plump chest.  

“G- god. . you feel sooo good ‘round me—! This pussy is just so —nghh, t- tight ‘n. . hckk— wet” Valko stutters out, shameless with his words. 

“Needa’ f- fill you up —fuckk! wanna’ -haaah ohfuck, wa- wanna fill you up till your dripping m- my cum out, baby” he pants out between groans of your name and breathless whimpers, his terry digging into his bottom lip till scarlet trickles from the small punctures. 

With a broken, whiney voice, you loudly squeal out his name— tears trickling down your flushed cheek as fresh tears waters in your glossy eyes. When he leans down to be closer to your exhausted body, the angle only has his thick cock sinking even deeper into your creamy pussy. . eliciting a sweet wail, your body uselessly writhing. That hungry mouth of Valko’s finds itself suckling on the exposed and sensitive skin of your neck, tongue dragging along your sweaty skin. 

With each push of his hips, thick cock plunging deep into your raw and swollen velvety walls, his thick cum pours down the delightful curve of your ass. . staining the messy fabric below. Needily, Valko suckles the skin of your neck aggressively, a wet pop filling the room when he pulls away to admire the pretty mark he left. Your flavor; sweet, inviting, and addictive lingers on his tongue, cock bobbing in your gooey, white- covered walls.

“N- noo — mmhp! ne- need more of this sweet, baby!” Valko whines out pathetically, his grip tightening on your poor thighs— surely there will be a bruise on your tender flesh. 

The thickened knot at the base of his cock pulses widely, kissing at your swollen pussy lips with every mean thrust. 

“Valko—!” You gasp out, shivering violently when his lips find your sweet spot on your neck, submitting to his own instincts. . those sharp canines of his drag along your poor skin until you conceive his mark.

Your velvet walls convulse and squeeze so tightly around his cock, a lewd squeal torn from you when your pussy erotically sprays your juices on Valko’s abdomen. He tears a whiney shriek from you when one of his hands slides from your thighs to rub firmly and roughly at your swollen clit— groaning in pure delight when more jets of your juices sprays from your over sensitive cunt.

“Nnngh—. . ohfuckk! H- haah, ca- can’t take it! Too much—!” You moan out, throwing your head against the pillow, hair sprawled out. 

“C’monn, le- lef me —nghh fuckfuckfuck. . fill you with my pups, baby” He groans out in a primal tone, cock twitching and drooling thick beads of precum in your walls.

He’s soo close, knot throbbing painfully as it begs to be buried deep in your creamy pussy. You barely manage to arch your back, shouting out his and when your cunt is stretched out by the thick swell of his knot. Valko whines, drool seeping from his lips to drip on your neck as his knot slowly and slowly spreads your hole wider to accommodate the extra stretch. 

It slips in with an obscure and loud squealchh, eliciting loud moans from both of you as it just presses deeper and deeper into your poor pussy. Valko opens his mouth wide, groaning as he bites at your neck, sharp teeth piercing into your until blood seeps from the small punctures. . his tongue smoothing the aching area— you let out an ear piercing scream, sobbing as you feel his wet tongue smearing against your sensitive skin.

“Haaah—! Ohfuckfuckfuck! V- Valko. . hckk” You wail out, a new batch of fat tears pouring from your glossy eye as your hole lewdly slurps his knot until it is seated deep in your cunt.

“Ju- just like thatt. . nnghh— y- you take me soo well—!” Valko whines out, closing his eyes tightly, shoving his nose into your hair to sniff up your delicious scent while his tail wags fastly. 

Valko’s balls twitch and tighten as thick ropes of his cum shoot deep into your spasming hole— your belly bloated from how much he’s been filling you up. Your pussy throbs and aches, a small ring of cum forming around his base, his balls throbbing against your ass as his cock throbs. . shooting more and more cum into your sloppy hole. And with his knot stuck and plunging your cunt, your trembling and whining from the fullness— not knowing what to do with yourself.  

୭⋆˚⊹𐂯 All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The wood groaned and splintered slightly under his white-knuckled grip, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t hear it; you couldn’t see. All that existed was the heavy weight pinning your body down, the crushing warmth between your breasts, and the slick, relentless slide of Valko’s cock, sliding between them. Each desperate thrust brushed the leaking tip right against your parted lips. He straddled your stomach, hovering just enough to control the agonisingly slow pace before driving down hard once more.

Your hands throbbed with a dull ache from squeezing your breasts together, straining to make the channel as narrow and tight as possible. You knew exactly how much he craved the restriction. Precum slicked your skin, painting your chest, pooling at your collarbones, and smearing all the way up to your neck. He was relentless, driven by a desperate edge, his deep grunts mixing with breathless whimpers as his hips thrust roughly against you. The sheer volume of wetness was obscene, making his length slide with effortless ease and causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, dampening the short crops of his burgundy hair from the intense exertion.

It had started the way it always did, with the two of you tangled on the couch the moment he walked through the door from work. He still had his glasses on when you decided to turn up the heat. Valko was completely powerless against you. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and you’d been walking around in a tight camisole that pushed your breasts up without any effort at all. He worshipped every single inch of your body, but that specific view? It had him twitching in his trousers instantly.

Which was exactly how you’d ended up here: pinned to the mattress, your boyfriend straddling your torso and fucking your tits. A perfectly ruined, utterly flawless evening.

“Val…” you whimpered softly, eyes rolling back.

Your lips parted a little, and the blunt head of his length slid in, stopping right before your teeth. The deep, vibrating moan that tore from his throat made your entire body buzz. You were aching just as intensely, heat dripping down your thighs while your pussy clenched helplessly around empty space.

“A bit more, pup. You can take it,” he rasped, looking down at you. The usual gold of his eyes had burned down to a dark, heavy amber, his pupils completely blown out. “Awh, do your hands hurt? It’s okay, just a little longer,” he cooed reassuringly, while your whole body shook from the rough, trembling rhythm of his hips.

His tail swooped down, brushing lazily across your bare thighs. You whimpered at the sensation, goosebumps erupting instantly as the soft fur rippled against your sensitised skin. He continued to slide in and out of the tight space you held for him, his balls tightening painfully as the friction pushed him closer to the edge.

“Pup… fuck… oh— babe…” he groaned desperately, his abdominal muscles locking up. Truth be told, and he really didn't want to fight it anyway, the overwhelming crest of his orgasm completely shattered his control.

A low howl tore from his chest, echoing through the bedroom and probably across all of Linkon, as he shot his load across your chest and face. Thick, burning-hot ropes of cum splattered against your skin. You gasped, squeezing your eyes tightly shut to avoid the risk of another eye infection. The heavy warmth spilled everywhere while he rode out the peak of the high, finally slumping forward until his head rested heavily against the wall above the headboard.

“My pup… look at you,” he whispered a long moment later. His eyes fluttered open, tracking down to look at you with a crooked, exhausted smile as he panted for breath.

His fingers reached down, tracing the contour of your face to smear a few stray drops across your skin. You never minded the mess; you always took it perfectly, entirely content with how completely he used you. Covered in his cum, you looked like a masterpiece. And looking down at you now, he already couldn't wait to stuff you full of it next.

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

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

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

“Hurts,” he grunts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response is simple: “I trust you.” 

Cute. But not what you need right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His ears droop atop his head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

──────

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

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

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

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

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

“Really.” 

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

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

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

Is that…? 

No way. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1

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

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

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

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

“Okay, what about—”

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

Oh, really? That’s how it is?

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Koko. It's for your own good.”

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clearly, he had a lot on his mind. 

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

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

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

His mortal enemy lies in wait within.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You freeze instantly, your heart dropping to your feet.

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

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

“Valk—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Use it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 7

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

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

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

It doesn’t take long to find out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

After seven days, he looks very, very grumpy.

You get the sense that you’re in trouble. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Three.”

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

“Two.” 

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

He doesn’t let you get to “one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…What?”

“My face. Sit on it.”

“…What?” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t need to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he won’t have it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Valko has other plans.

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

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

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

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

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

All you can do is whine.

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

──────

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

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

It’s dawn. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should you switch vets? 

to this day, it didn’t matter if he had important phone calls, intricate things to study up on, or confidential documents to overlook and analyze. one thing for certain was that he would always do any and all of it wherever you were if he could.

ten minutes go by before he’s finally sitting up and removing the earbuds from his ears and the whole headset from around his neck. whatever work he had been click-clacking away at for the last two hours after taking a shower and having dinner was disregarded when he shuts the screen of his laptop and turned to look up at you holding the cute wolf plushie he’d won for you a couple months back.

“everything okay?” you ask him softly as he faces you completely, reaching out to gently rake your fingernails through the soft and now fully dried hair right behind his ear.

getting to watch that handsome face of his fall completely relaxed and content was truly a sacred experience. his immediate submission is something you frequently tease him for when compared to his cocky demeanor, but you both knew you’d never hear the end of it should you stop for any reason.

“yeah, it’s all good. random brunch for the third time this month over the weekend. you up for it? by all means, say no if you prefer to just chill with the love of your life or whatever.”

“you and your family are just too cute. once again, i’m reminded where you get all that audacity from.”

valko grins at the giggle you can’t contain, continuing to explore the softness of your skin as you both doted on the other silently. settling between your legs while he sits on the floor was on the top of his list of his preferred kind of intimacy. “but you know i’m down if you are. i go where you go. i mean duhhh, that’s how we always move. like a pack, right?”

he leans deeper into your touch, eyes nearly falling shut completely from the euphoria he gets out of the way you love on him with one of the things he classifies as a guilty pleasure. truthfully, he wasn’t secretive about such an obsession at all, but what was known didn’t always need to be said out loud. unless used against him, of course.

“didn’t even give you any info on it yet and you’re already so eager to follow me like a good little pup, huh?”

“oh, i’m the eager one?” the protest ready to fall from his lips is first expressed in the pinch of his brows when your hand slips away from the stimulation being given to one of his favorite spots. his expressions had the tendency to give away any thoughts before he could say a word. it’s why he always says you read him better than any book he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“what the fuc—”

“watch it,” you warn playfully. whatever was to be said is swallowed down when the pads of your fingertips begin tracing the defined outline of his jawline before resting on the underside of his chin. “so quick to start with me. aren’t you supposed to be my good boy?”

valko takes your lighthearted taunting as a challenge, grasping you by the wrist and bringing it up to his nose to inhale your addictive scent and the faint aroma of your perfume.

“aren’t i always?”

“you have your moments. i’ve gotta say though, obedience looks super sexy on you.”

“hm. i bet it does.” his grin brings out the subtle dimples in his cheeks. “is it my turn to make a move now?”

he’s pulling you off the couch and on top of him before you’re capable of offering a response to his vague request. the two of you are caught in a laughing fit all the way down until his back hits the plush rug and you’re settled in his lap.

the chuckles are interrupted when you feel his not-so-little friend prodding at you for some kind of attention.

“oh, you perv.”

“perv? that’s not a nice thing to say to the man of your dreams, now is it?” he’s slipping his hands beneath your shorts as his palms slide up the outside of your thighs. “i just consider this instinctual. others would say natural. can’t blame me for what i can’t control.”

the heaviness of his hardening cock pressing into you from below had a steadily increasing heartbeat thumping in your panties. from the soft look he sports with his glasses, the oversized red sweater you got him last christmas, and the dark gray sweats doing nothing to conceal what you were quickly becoming unashamedly desperate for, no way were you getting off of him without some kind of relief.

valko watches you closely as you raise said sweater to sit below his chin, revealing the big, strong, and sculpted body that you’ve fallen helplessly head over heels for. he was hard where you were soft, and it was opposites like that that made you fit so well.

“would you look at that. and i’m the one being labeled a pervert. baby, i think we’re mixing things up.”

“can’t i admire my boyfriend? isn’t this natural?”

it’s almost like his eyes shine when you use his own words against him.

“‘course you can. in fact, you better. but…” he sniffs up at the air four times, a smug grin taking over his lips. “i’m sensing that admiration isn’t the only thing you’ve got planned in that big head of head of yours.”

“fuck off,” you laugh, pinching his nose. “and don’t act so tough.”

with one slow upward motion of your hips, the thickness pulsing against you seems to swell even bigger than before. his teeth tuck his bottom lip into his mouth from the sensation and his hold on your hips deepens, nails biting deliciously at your flesh. “admiration isn’t enough for you anyways.”

your lips fall to his quickly, tongues battling for a dominance you know he’d fight tooth and nail to be the one to conquer. but he throughly enjoys a biting prey and it’s why he loves you.

his hands are sliding out the fabric of your sleepwear to find purchase on other parts of your body the more heated your sensual exchange becomes. as he licks at the roof of your mouth and tries his hardest to devour you whole, you’re embraced by his large hands grabbing at you like the greedy beast he’s proud to be.

it’s when he makes his way back to your hips that you both know this wouldn’t last long. and when he starts to frantically guide you to grind against him faster, holding you down to feel him through the few layers of clothes that’s causing separation, instinctively you knew that it was in your best interest to prepare yourself for the more he was going to give soon after this.

“you’re not… hah—wearing underwear…” you breathe against his mouth glistening with your shared saliva. you’re quick to take off his glasses from the growing frustration of them getting in your way of being closer, discarding them towards the plush cushions with fingers crossed for a safe landing.

“aren’t you smart.” the teasing inflection in his tone and the deepness of his voice has your cunt throbbing to the point of growing uncomfortable.

your clit continues to ache the more you move with him, nipples grazing underneath your top and begging to be sucked into his mouth.

“sit up,” he says breathlessly with another sloppy kiss to your partially swollen lips.

he keeps you moving on his cock as you rise, lustful gaze focused on the way your shorts ride up your thighs and cling to your pussy from how taut he’s got them pulled to increase the friction. the outline of his dick moving against it back and forth, trying its best to nestle in between—the visual alone has him bucking up and trying to make that a reality.

valko’s hands slide up the sides of your torso and his thumbs delicately play with your peaked nipples beneath your t-shirt.

“val,” you whine, resting your hand on his chest to keep you steady as you try your hardest to not lose your shit from the sensitivity taking over everywhere. “w-want it inside. want it so bad…”

“you open that pretty mouth for everything else.” he flicks them this time to make you tense and for tears to damn near overfill both your waterlines. “should’ve just said how much you wanted to be fucked way sooner, pup. saves us so much time.”

but you can’t wait for that now, not when you’re so close. the lone idea of stopping was aggravating enough.

your head falls back from the insatiable manner in which you chase your high, using his body to the highest degree to help get you there.

“you smell so sweet,” he coos through a husky moan. “mm. you’ll let me taste it later? it’s not good to be stingy.”

“right t-there,” you mewl, pressing your lips together before your vision practically blurs and and has you seeing dots. your orgasm is cataclysmic, and valko keeps your momentum going despite the clear overstimulation you’re experiencing. hearing you sing for him like this and watching you fall apart was worth your little hits of retaliation later.

he’s not far behind you either, thick spurts of sticky cum making a complete mess in his pants soon after you cave and quickly seeps through the material to add to the wet spot in between your legs.

both of you sit breathless with the sound of your forgotten movie still playing and being the only thing to fill the silence.

“you can taste it if i can taste you, too.”

“a deal?” he raises an eyebrow as if he’s open to negations. “other than the obvious, what’s really in it for me?”

of course he never misses an opportunity to play coy.

“keep making me feel good…” your thumb swipes along his bottom lip. “and maybe you’ll find out. or are you too scared?”

you sure were bold to offer up another challenge like this. and he could show you better than he could promise that this time, he wouldn’t go easy.

a/n: ofc i haaaddd to write about that picture. i’m so obsessed with it. like i was genuinely imagining this…. i almost felt it—AND, i know we can’t really tell if he’s ooc or not but if you think he’s ooc… DON’T TELL ME!!!!!!! valko baby, you’re ALIVE over here. they can’t take you from me. i hope you enjoyed, my cuties. MWAH MWAH!!!