✨🌙✨

You’d know these idiots since freshman orientation. Two years of shared greasy takeout, late night study sessions, and brutal hungover Sundays. That messy stretch of friendship was the only reason you felt comfortable enough to let your filter slip.

"It's not just the third floor," you said, tracing a finger around the rim of your cup. "It's everybody. The nursing majors. The track team. Pretty much every girl I've talked to. They all said the same thing, that you guys look like you belong on a billboard, but fuck like clumsy horny dogs."

"A horny dog? Seriously?" Rafayel looked genuinely wounded. "I am an artist and a very attentive one."

"You think lighting candles counts as attentiveness."

"It contributes."

From across the room, Sylus remained focused on his phone.

"Let them talk," his thumb paused over the screen "The loudest complaints usually come from people who never say what they really want."

You laughed "That's what you're going with?"

Sylus shrugged.

"Fine. Caleb?" he immediately looked suspicious.

"What?"

"That girl from the lacrosse team you fucked last weekend..."

Caleb groaned. "Oh, come on."

"How do you know she actually finished?"

"Because she told me she did."

"And?"

"And she was loooooud."

You stared at him and saw his confidence falter slightly.

"Girls do that so you'll speed up and get it over with"

Caleb opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked toward the window, his jaw shifting. "She... she wrapped her legs around my waist the entire time. That means it was good, right?"

"That means she was trying to get more friction because you weren't hitting the right spots," you said turning your head towards Rafayel "What about you?"

Rafayel straightened. "What about me?"

"When was the last time you actually looked down to see what was happening instead of just listening to the noises she was making?"

Rafayel's face turned a bright pink that extended to the tips of his ears. "I can tell by the rhythm. The atmosphere shifts."

"The atmosphere doesn't make a girl cum, Raf," you laughed, the whiskey bubbling up in your chest.

Across the room Xavier finally lifted his head from the rug, his hair stuck out in every direction.

"I just do it until they tell me to stop."

The room went quiet.

"Xavi, that is not the reassuring answer you think it is."

"Oh." he considered that.

"See?" you said, pointing around the room. "None of you actually know how to make a girl cum, you just assume you did a great job because you're hot, and then leave them to finish the job themselves after you fall asleep."

"That's correct"

The words cut through the conversation.

Zayne didn't look up from his anatomy textbook, he just adjusted his glasses and continued reading for a few more second before lifting his eyes.

Caleb barked out a laugh. "Oh, here we go."

Zayne ignored him.

"Most guys operate on assumptions rather than observation."

"Listen to the expert," Caleb said. "A man whose dating life exists entirely in textbooks."

Zayne's expression didn't change. "I understand the theory better than you"

"Theory?" Caleb repeated.

"Anatomy, Caleb."

"That's a lot of confidence for someone talking in hypotheticals." Sylus teased.

Zayne hesitated "It isn't as complicated as people make it out to be. I can show you."

"Do it." the words left your mouth before you could calculate the weight of them. "Show them."

Caleb sat up straighter. Rafayel looked interested. Xavier was really awake now.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Sylus finally dropped his phone into his lap, his gaze locking onto your face, heavy and unblinking.

​Zayne didn't blink either. A dark red flush crept from beneath the collar of his black sweater, staining his throat. He looked at your cup, then at the space between his own knees, his jaw working as he swallowed.

Shit Shit Shit

​"We're... we've known each other a long time, this feels like we're crossing a line."

​"She asked," Sylus stood, the leather chair groaning beneath him. He crossed the room to slide the deadbolt into place before he leaned against the door and folded his arms. "And the doctor says he has the answers. Let's see a demonstration."

------

​The floorboards felt cold under your bare feet. Taking your clothes off wasn't nearly as smooth as moments like this looked in movies. It was awkward, rushed, and far too real. Your jeans caught on your ankles as you kicked them off, your bra strap twisting before you cleared it from your arms.

​"Sit here," Zayne whispered. He was now sitting on the edge of the mattress, knees spread wide apart.

You moved into the gap between his thighs. His chest felt warm against your shoulder blades.

Caleb and Rafayel pulled two chairs forward and Xavier stayed on the floor, dragging himself closer until his knees almost touched your ankle.

Before moving anywhere else, Zayne clamped his hands around your waist. His palms felt warm against your skin, holding you steady between his thighs.

"The skin requires warming first, If you touch her when she's cold, the muscles contract. It closes the blood vessels."

​His hands slid higher, the friction of his palms catching against your ribcage. He paused when he reached your breasts, using his fingers to lift and shape them without any sudden squeezing. He kept his touch frustratingly light, his thumbs sweeping in slow arcs across the base before flicking directly over the tight tips.

​A gasp caught in your throat, slipping out as a sharp breath. You dug your fingers into his knees, squeezing just to keep from writhing away from his hands.

"Are those goosebumps?" Xavier asked from below before reaching out, his hand hovering an inch from your left knee before he dropped it back to the floor.

"Yes, but it's an involuntary reaction," Zayne leaned his head forward, his hair brushing against your earlobe. "It doesn't mean she's cold."

Caleb cleared his throat, looking down at his hands, then back at you.

The sudden loss of Zayne's touch on your breasts made you shiver, his hands already traveling down your abdomen to grip your inner thighs. He parted your legs wide, exposing you to the heavy stares of the room. Under the direct glow of the desk lamp, the skin of your inner thighs visibly trembled.

His knuckles dragged over your outer lips and he stalled there, his jaw tightening as he drew his hand back and stared down at the slight sheen—not nearly enough.

"She’s nervous and that's completely normal. Any friction here would just cause irritation."

"So you're stuck," Rafayel said. He was leaning so far forward his chest rested against his knees, his eyes wide and tracking every movement of Zayne’s hand.

"No."

Zayne brought his hand up to your face and pressed his middle and index finger against your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. The scent of paper vanished under the wet heat of your mouth. "Wet them."

You took his fingers in, tongue curling around them. Zayne watched your lips close around his knuckles, his chest expanding against your back, before he pulled them out with a wet pop, a thin thread of saliva breaking between his hand and your mouth.

​"You only need to do this once to get things moving," Zayne explained guiding his wet fingers back down between your thighs. "If a man needs to re wet his fingers or use lube over and over, it means he’s doing something wrong."

He pressed his slick fingers directly against your clit, rubbing an agonizingly perfect circle.

A sharp cry broke from your lips and he rested the heel of his hand firmly against your pelvic bone, using that grounding weight to steady his touch while his index and middle fingers began a slow, testing exploration of the skin surrounding the swollen bud. He moved in light crescent shapes, mapping the outer edges first without touching the center directly.

Your hips moved, trying to force his hand to hit your favorite spots, but Zayne held your waist with his other hand, keeping you still.

"Not yet," his voice was losing its stiffness "Look at how she reacts when I go near it. She's so sensitive right here. Such a good girl for letting you all see." The bastard knew about your praise kink. Of course he knew.

He changed the strokes to a firm downward motion along the sides before gathering the slick that was beginning to coat his knuckles and smoothing it back up. He watched your skin change color under his fingers, his thumb finally making direct contact with your clit, pressing down and tracing a tight, clockwise circle.

Your thighs twitched, knees trying to clamp shut around his arm.

"Don't hide," his thumb switched direction, drawing slow figure eight that dragged across the very top of the bud before dipping into the soft groove underneath. "Let them watch how wet you get when someone actually takes their time with you. You look so pretty when you're dripping like this."

Across from you, Caleb's hands were gripping his own knees so hard the fabric of his sweatpants strained. His eyes were wide and fixed entirely on the gloss of your skin where Zayne’s thumb was slicking the fluid back and forth, finding the exact weight that made your head fall back against his shoulder "She’s... she’s shaking..." his voice sounded rough and uneven.

Rafayel moved to the edge of his seat, his fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt, his face had gone from pink to tomato red "And the color is different..."

"Because the blood is pooling exactly where it’s supposed to," Zayne told them increasing the pressure just a fraction until you let out a broken whimper. "If you change the rhythm too fast, you lose the progress, so find the pattern she responds to, and you stay there."

From the floor, Xavier stared at the small twitches of your hole "She’s pulling in, like she wants to wrap around something."

Sylus stepped away from the door, his hands were out of his pockets now, his knuckles white as he watched Zayne’s fingers spread your folds apart, exposing the wet, pink interior completely "She's begging for it."

​Zayne looked up at the four men watching.

​"The manual rhythm is only the baseline, the tissue is highly receptive to temperature and texture. Anything you can execute with your hands, you can replicate, and enhance, with your mouth.

​He brought his index finger directly to the very tip of your swollen clit, pressing with small, localized prods.

"If you use the tip of your tongue like this," Zayne explained, his finger mimicking the flicking motion against the sensitive bud, making your hips jump, "you target the isolated nerve clusters. It's high intensity and it forces the blood to the surface faster."

He then slid his index and middle fingers tightly together, flattening them against each other to create a wider, smoother surface. He pressed the flat length of both fingers firmly against your entire center, dragging them in a long upward stroke from your entrance all the way up to your clit.

"But when she gets overwhelmed, you switch," Zayne said as he repeated the stroke "You have to use the whole flat of your tongue like this. It dampens the sharp sting of the sensitivity while keeping the heat building. You alternate based on how much she's twitching."

He used his other hand to gently pull your lips apart "Look at the opening," Zayne's breath felt soooo hot against your neck. "When the nerves are active, the tissue swells. It opens on its own."

Behind you, something thick pressed firmly into the cleft of your ass. Zayne was completely hard. His glasses had slid down his nose, but he didn't take his hands away to fix them.

​"Zaynie..." you moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder again. The sight of the guys watching you was winding the coil in your belly tighter and tighter.

​"Tell them," Zayne ordered, his fingers digging harder into the top of your clit. "Tell them what it feels like."

​"It's... it's so good," you sobbed out "I... Zayne, I need...fuck...."

Sylus moved closer.

​"The internal contractions," Zayne told them, his words breaking as his thumb worked in a fast circle. "They will milk whatever is inside. Just one finger in. Now. Feel it."

​"Now?" Rafayel stammered, his hand shaking as he reached out.

"Now!" you ripped the word straight from your chest,

​They moved together, a crowded rush of limbs. Four fingers,all pushed into your wet pussy at once.

Your muscles clamped down in spasms. Caleb let out a low curse, his head dropping against your thigh as you squeezed his finger. "Fucking hell... tight little pussy."

"Keep your fingers still," Zayne's thumb was still holding pressure against your twitching clit while he kept your hips steady against his own shaking thighs. "Feel the rhythm. That's her release."

Rafayel didn't speak, his eyes were fixed on his finger buried inside you.

The silence returned slowly, punctuated only by the sound of you trying to catch your breath. One by one, the fingers withdrew, leaving your cunt open and drooling. You collapsed back into Zayne, your muscles humming with the aftershocks.

Four men stood around the bed, looking down at their wet hands. Zayne was breathing hard against your neck, one hand shaking visibly as he pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

He cleared his throat, his voice cracking slightly "Are there... any other questions?"

Xavier raised his hand slowly to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the wetness on his knuckle, his eyes completely dark as he stared at your open thighs.

"Yeah," he said "Can you teach us how to make her squirt?"

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!!!

you raise an eyebrow and look at your short nails. “won’t that hurt?”

he holds your nails in his palms and presses on the edge of them, feeling for the sharpness. “sweetheart, these wouldn’t even hurt a pup. you remember i’m a werewolf, riiight?” he smiles. “i’ve been scratched by newborns with longer claws.”

you hum and consider it. “well… even if i did want to scratch you, my nails would break before they got long enough.”

valko pats the tops of your hands and lets them go, going back to cooking. “i’ll pay for you to get acrylics. any shape, length, color you want- you could even get a design.”

“are you sure?” you ask skeptically. despite knowing that your boyfriend was rich rich, you still felt bad spending his money.

the very next day, you had long stiletto nails in a deep plum color.

valko was ecstatic when he saw them, but paused when he examined them further. you’d gotten his initials painted on your ring fingers- a suggestion from the nail artist. you’d been worried it was too much… what if valko didn’t like it?

…valko liked it. probably a little too much, considering how he was fucking you so deep into the memory foam mattress that you were sure your indentation would be there for years to come.

“nnghhhh!! ‘ko- shit!” you breathed out, gasping for air as his thick cock drilled against your cervix.

your nails pressed dully into his skin, not quite scratching or piercing the skin.

valko groaned and moved forward, pressing your knees fully beside your head into a deep mating press. “scratch me. dig your nails in- hmmmm.” he whined out.

you pressed down harder, raking your nails down the expanse of his back and raising the skin in red streaks.

“yes- fuck, perfect. harder, dig in harder, i know you’re strong. show me how strong you are.” valko’s breath hitched and he let out a pleased moan when you followed his instructions.

you whined and babbled incoherently about how good he felt, how deep he was in you while your nails left scratches on his back in every direction.

you mindlessly clawed at his skin, searching desperately for something to hold onto and he fucked you harder than you’d ever felt.

“s’ good.. such a good mate, so accommodating, scratching the shit out of me.” valko praises, voice gruff in your ear.

“mmhmmm.” you whine. he switches his angle ever so slightly, hitting upward and bullying the spot deep inside you that makes your vision white out.

you screech and dig your nails into his back hard, hard enough to make him groan and stutter.

“fuck! cumming- cu- shit, holy shit.” valko moans out, collapsing on top of you as he fills you the condom full of his thick cum.

you’re both in a hazy sort of bliss that only sex can give for a handful of minutes after. you’re only brought out of it when valko stands to go get a warm towel for you and your eyes meet his back- your canvas.

you gasp and sit up weakly. "valko!”

valko turns, on high alert and scanning the room. “what- what? fuck, don’t scare me like that-”

“your back is bleeding!” you interrupt, crawling towards him on shaky limbs.

valko pauses and reaches to touch his back, looking at his bloody fingers. “oh.”

“i’m so sorry- oh my god, i’m evil, i’m terrible!” you ramble, tears brimming your eyes.

when you look up at valko, he’s… smiling?! ear to ear, at that! “what the hell is the matter with you?! i injured you!” you yell, tossing a pillow at him in frustration.

valko smiles and walks to the edge of the bed, cradling your cheek with his clean hand. “you marked me up, just like every good mate should. here, take a picture for me.” he grabs his phone from the nightstand and hands it to you, turning around.

you open the camera and snap a picture, trying not to drool over it. you’d marked him up good- he had red streaks in all directions, blood trickling from most of them. weirdly, the sight made a new wetness form between your legs.

valko looked at the picture cleared his throat, a flush rising on his cheek. something else rose, right beside your face, thick and leaking pre again.

since that day, your nails were always done and valko’s back was always painted ruby red.

a/n: no one be sad!!!! everyone be happy!! valko lives on, i promiseeee yall everything will be okay. do you really think mama rhi would let anything happen to our valko? no!!