valko puts his muzzle on you !! [ 18+ ]
the air in valko’s penthouse was thick with the scent of ozone and rain, the storm outside casting long, fractured shadows across the glass. you were sprawled across his pristine black sheets, your chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, wearing nothing but the thin, faded t-shirt you’d stolen from his closet.
he was standing at the foot of the bed, stripped down to a pair of low-slung charcoal slacks, his sculpted torso a worthy distraction, but your eyes weren’t on his abs. they were locked on the object dangling from his fingers.
his muzzle, a sleek piece of cold metal— a cage of sharp angles and jagged lines that perfectly framed the hard set of his jaw. when he wore it, he was a beast, a predator with those piercing, golden-amber eyes that could strip you bare with a single glance.
“you’ve been staring at this all night, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly purr that vibrated through the floorboards. he twirled the muzzle by its leather strap, the metallic clink of the latches a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “tell me what you’re thinking.”
you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your belly. you were playing a dangerous game and you both knew it. “i’m thinking… i want to know what it feels like.”
a slow, predatory smile curled the corner of his mouth, canines peeking through slightly. “do you, now?” he stalked around the bed, his movements fluid and silent, like a wolf closing in on its prey. he stopped beside you, his large, calloused hand coming up to cup your chin, tilting your face up to his. his thumb brushed over your lower lip, parting it gently.
“you want my cage around your face?” he breathed, his golden eyes darkening with a dangerous, possessive glint.
you nodded, your voice catching in your throat. “please.”
your plea seemed to ignite something feral in him and he didn’t give you a chance to second-guess it. in a single, fluid motion, he slipped behind you, his bare chest pressing flush against your back, his warm skin searing yours. he smelled of expensive cologne, rain and pure, masculine heat.
“rules, puppy,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “one: you don’t take it off. not until i say so. two: you don’t speak unless i ask you a question. and three…” he paused, sliding the cool metal of the muzzle against your cheek, letting you feel its weight. “you beg me with your eyes, and i will give you exactly what you need. understood?”
a pathetic, breathless whimper escaped you, and he chuckled low in his chest, the sound vibrating against your spine.
slowly, he brought the muzzle over your head. the leather straps felt like silk against your skin, but the metal was frigid. he positioned it over your mouth and nose, it’s metal pieces adjusting their position to make it a snug, perfect fit, as if it had been crafted for you. the cool iron pressed against the bridge of your nose, the cage covering your lips, leaving your eyes— your only tether to him— fully exposed.
the latches clicked into place with a satisfying, final clack.
it was as if your brain accommodated to the rules immediately, a jolt of electricity shot through you at the sudden inability to speak. the cold metal against your flushed skin made you nervous, your hands instinctively flew back, gripping his thick, corded thighs as he knelt behind you.
“theeere she is,” he rasped, his hands sliding down your arms, tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your hips with bruising intensity. “my perfect, obedient little thing. you have no idea what that does to me.”
he shifted, pressing a searing, open-mouthed kiss to your bare shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, but the sound was muffled, trapped behind the cold steel. it came out as a desperate, guttural hum. that sound drove him absolutely insane.
his hands trailed lower, slipping under the hem of your shirt, his fingers splaying across your stomach. “so warm for me,” he growled, his voice breaking. “you like this, don’t you? you like being claimed.”
he leaned down, his lips teasing the slick, heated skin of your neck. he nipped at the pulse point, hard enough to sting, before dragging his tongue up to the edge of the metal mask. he kissed the cold steel right over your mouth.
he cupped your face, his thumb stroking the cold metal over your lower lip. the friction was maddening. you pressed your mouth against it, trying to kiss his thumb through the barrier, a soft, desperate whine escaping your throat.
he loved that sound. you saw it in the way his pupils dilated, in the predatory way his tongue darted out to wet his own lips. he was starving.
he pushed you down onto your stomach, the silk sheets cool against your overheated skin. he loomed over you, his massive frame casting you in shadow. with a rough tug, he yanked your shirt up, baring your back, before his hands found the curve of your ass, squeezing and kneading with raw, unrestrained lust.
he tugged down the thin fabric of your panties, tossing them aside. you could feel the heavy, thick length of his cock pressing against your thigh, hot and demanding, even through his slacks. he rocked against you, a slow, punishing grind that had your fingers twisting into the sheets. you gave him a desperate glance over your shoulder, unable to express anything through words.
“god, the way you look at me,” he groaned, his chest heaving. his hand slid between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. he groaned at the feel of your wetness, his fingers parting you, circling your clit with a pressure that made your spine arch. the muffled cry you let out was obscene.
“one word from you,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck. “one single sound, and i’ll tear this thing off and take you right here until you scream my name. but if you stay quiet…”
his finger slid inside you, then another, stretching you, working you with a fierce, distinct rhythm. he curled them, hitting that spot that made your vision blur. your eyes rolled back, your hips bucking into his hand, the metal muzzle clinking against the pillowcase.
“if you stay quiet, puppy,” he repeated, his voice dripping with dark promise, “i’ll fuck you while you wear it. and every time you try to beg me to go faster, all you’ll taste is my steel. and i will own you.”
he withdrew his fingers abruptly, making you cry out in frustration against the cage. he sat back, his eyes blazing down at you, tracing the way the muzzle left a slight dent on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and pleading. he reached down, undoing his slacks with a sharp, quick motion, freeing his cock, leaking, the head slick with anticipation.
he gripped your hips, hauling you up onto your knees, and without warning, he pushed into you. the stretch was perfect— tight, hot, and deep. a strangled whimper echoed from your throat, muffled by the cage. he leaned over you, his chest plastered to your back, his pelvis grinding against your ass.
“fuck, baby,” he hissed, the word bitten out through clenched teeth. “you’re so tight. so fucking perfect.”
he pulled out to the tip, then slammed back in, his hips snapping forward with brutal, rhythmic precision. the bed groaned under the force of his thrusts. he was relentless, chasing his own blind pleasure while dragging yours out with every sharp angle of his hips.
his large hand wrapped around the front of your throat, just resting there, feeling your pulse hammer against the tips of his fingers, below the metal of the muzzle. it was terrifying and wildly arousing. “look at me,” he growled, his voice a broken, desperate rasp.
you managed to turn your head, looking over your shoulder. the sight was surreal; his face was flushed, strained with pleasure, a sheen of sweat on his brow. his golden eyes burned with a primal, unyielding lust, but beneath it, there was a fierce, staggering devotion.
“that’s it,” he breathed, watching you. “give me your eyes. give me all of it. you’re mine. say it with your eyes, baby.”
you couldn’t blink. you held his gaze, your eyes soft, glazed, and completely surrendered. a tear slipped down your cheek, sliding under the edge of the muzzle. the sight of that tear— the proof of your overpowering feeling for him, trapped inside his cage— burned his insides.
his rhythm faltered. his hips started driving into you harder, deeper, almost reverently.
“i can’t—I’m close,” he gasped, his fingers tightening on your hip, pulling you impossibly deeper onto his length. “come with me. fucking come with me.”
you tightened around him, a violent, spasming clench that stole a guttural, ragged groan from his throat. the mask muffled your scream, turning it into a desperate, high-pitched keen that seemed to echo in the metal chamber, vibrating against his face as he leaned down to kiss the crown of it again.
his free hand found your clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles as he pounded into you. the dual assault— the depth, the pressure, the cold cage, the heat of his breath on your neck— sent you hurtling over the edge. your body seized, a silent, convulsive scream caught in your throat as your walls clamped down on him like a vice.
the feeling of you pulsing around him, silent and trembling, was the final trigger. valko let out a deep, guttural roar, his hips locking against yours as he emptied himself inside you with hot, pulsing spurts. he slumped over you, his weight a comfortable, grounding anchor, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear.
for a long moment, there was only the sound of the rain and your mingled breathing along with the wet squelch of his hips rocking against yours, slowly, lazily, milking the aftershocks from your body. your heart was a frantic drum in your chest, your mind a fuzzy, white static.
slowly, with shaking hands, valko reached for your head. the latches clicked open. the cool metal lifted from your face, and the sudden rush of cool air against your lips felt like a baptism. he tossed the muzzle aside and immediately cupped your cheeks, turning you to face him.
his thumbs wiped away the tear that had escaped. he kissed your forehead, your nose, and then, gently, your lips— a stark contrast to the savage possession moments before.
“you did so well,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with emotion. “you took it so beautifully. you are beautiful.”
you opened your mouth to speak, but your voice was cracked and raw. “val…”
he shushed you, his forehead resting against yours. “no words needed now. i know,” he breathed, his eyes searching yours, filled with a raw, unguarded vulnerability that he showed to no one else in the world. “i’ll take care of you.”
he pulled you into his arms, wrapping the sheet around both of you as the storm raged on, holding you like you were the only thing in his universe worth protecting. in the cold, metallic heart of the beast, you had found his sole, tender pulse.
alex’s notes: i would say i’m pretty rusty since i haven’t written in a while but fuck did valko make me horny enough to open my notes app RAWRRR
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