Work Text:
Victor awoke, a familiar pain thrumming through his body. He groaned quietly when he realized he’d popped a few stitches. It always hurt more when that happened. Normally, he’d ask you to patch him up, but, well…
He shifted to look at your sleeping form in the bed next to him. Your hair splayed across the pillow like a halo surrounding your head, your mouth slightly open as you dozed peacefully. A smile came to Victor’s face as he watched you. God, they’re so pretty…
He winced as more pain tore him from his thoughts. Shit. He hated when it got really bad like this.
Victor pulled himself carefully out of bed, sad to leave you alone in your shared bed. He groaned quietly as he made his way out into the living room, basically tearing himself out of the loose T-shirt he wore to bed. It matched one you had, and he always enjoyed matching with you. He groaned louder as he threw it down onto the couch, slumping onto it soon after. His body was killing him; he couldn’t reach the spot where he popped stitches or he would’ve tried to fix it himself.
Victor often got in his own head. You were giving him a place to live, and you stitched him back up, giving him painkillers and ice packs and ointments. He felts like a burden, and often didn’t feel worthy of your love. On top of all of this, you enthusiastically took him to the library, helping him try to find who made him and where his body was from.
Victor sighed as his body kept throbbing, and pushed himself up off the couch, walking over to the window. He pushed the curtain open, and rested his body on the cold glass of the windowpane. This was one of the only ways to get relief on spots he couldn’t reach well when you were asleep. The cool glass soothed the ripped stitch, and felt good on his skin. He leaned his head back, and it hit the windowpane with a soft thud. He kept thinking about how he didn’t deserve you. How he felt like a burden. It wasn’t his fault; he didn’t volunteer to be brought into the world. But he still felt as if he could never deserve or give back all you gave to him. For the first time that night, a tear rolled down his cheek. Not from the pain, but from his thoughts. He felt more tears drip down his face, rolling down onto his collarbones.
He almost didn’t hear the soft padding of footsteps as they approached him. “Victor…?” You say, concern evident in your voice as you walk over to him. Tears glitter on his face in the low light of the lamp, and his head rested still on the windowpane. You softly grip his arm, and he flinches in surprise. You retract your hand quickly as he opens his eyes to look at you. His eyes soften at the sight of your concerned face, and he bends his head forward to be closer to you. Victor’s quite a bit taller than you; whoever made him gave him a striking stature and features, and you loved it.
You reached up carefully, and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs. Though Victor was undead, he was slightly warm to the touch, not cold like one might expect from a corpse. You revel in this fact. His hair was smooth and only slightly tangled as you ran your fingers through it, combing out any knots. You smile at him as he regards you with a look that makes you worry. His eyes are glassy, tears still brimming in them and threatening to spill forward.
“Victor, what’s wrong?” You assess his body, looking for anything that looks to be more of a source of pain than usual. His right arm has some popped stitches, you couldn’t see his back. You gently put your hands on his sides and turn him around, and you wince when you see the gash across his back where his stitches had come loose.
Taking his arm gently, you guide him to the couch, sitting and patting the spot next to you. He sighs and sits down, bracing his elbows on his knees to put his head in his hands. You paused for a moment, letting him sit there and thinking. Then:
“Can I stitch you up, love?” You asked, being careful to leave him room to say no if he didn’t want it. Victor sniffled and nodded, a ragged sigh slipping between his clenched teeth.
You get up, moving to the freezer and grabbing him an ice pack. You set it on his back, and he leans back wordlessly, relaxing into the relief it brought. With the pack trapped between his back and the couch, you go to get your med kit that you have specially for this occasion. You liked to be prepared, especially if Victor needed something last-minute. The kit was an old lunchbox, the metal kind that latched at the top. It had book stickers on it, ones that Paige had given you the last time you both came into her bookstore. It was a somewhat popular date spot, and you and Victor both enjoyed reading. You smiled at the memory, grabbing the plastic handle and quickly returning to the living room. Victor was still there, leaning back into the couch with his arms resting across the back of it. He looked so pretty like this… and hot, but you couldn’t hop onto that train of thought right now. You had a job to do. Still, you marvel at your boyfriend, who looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves.
He breaks the silence. “Like what you see?” You roll your eyes and laugh, approaching him with the med kit. “You know I do.”
You politely ask him to lay on his stomach, and he rolls over without complaint.
“Thanks…” you say, brows furrowing as you took in the state of him. You ran your fingers over his rippling back muscles, popping the latches to the kit and fishing around for topical numbing cream. Victor could handle the pain without it, but you wanted to take the best care of him that you could.
You squeeze a glob onto your finger, gently applying it to the skin around his open wound. He relaxes just a bit; this numbing cream does the trick fast. You grab the needle and surgical thread, your fingers moving deftly to thread it and tie the knot. You snip the ends down a bit, just to add your own touch.
Victor lays on the couch, reveling in the relief that the numbing cream brings. This topical was so nice. He feels your hand on his shoulder as you lean down close to him.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” You ask, making sure he was doing alright. He felt better already. With a nod you were off, carefully pulling the skin together in tight, secure sutures. You knew how to sew before, but had learned medical sutures for Victor’s sake. As stated, you wanted to treat him properly and as well as you could.
Victor marveled at how gentle you were, even when poking his skin with a needle. Your soft fingertips kept him grounded, and the topical made it so that the thread tugging his skin back together felt like nothing more than a flu shot.
You had done this enough times to know what to expect, how tight to make the stitches, and what Victor’s grunts meant. When he groaned in pain, you massaged the area with your fingers and added more numbing cream. You would also kiss the affected area under the guise of “making it better.” He always rolled his eyes and pretended to sigh in exasperation, but you knew he enjoyed it.
The needle pulls through the final time, and you tie it off tightly. Victor sighs in relief, and you can feel his shoulders relax. You smile, moving on to the next affected area, smearing more topical onto the popped sutures on his arm.
The shears click together as you remove the old thread with a few careful snips. Finding the old knot, you pulled it carefully with your metal forceps. With Victor’s old sutures out of the way, you could get the new ones in place. There was always a warm, wet washcloth nearby when you were cleaning Victor’s wounds, and you used it to rinse his arm where you were stitching. Another round of numbing cream, and you were back at it, carefully using your forceps and needle to join Victor’s skin back together.
Victor’s two-toned eyes watched you quietly. You were focused completely, not realizing that Victor was watching you. He held completely still, aiding you in your stitching. Though you knew what you were doing, you were still far from a professional. Your hands shook a bit, but you were careful not to let the needle poke Victor unnecessarily. You bit your lip as you concentrated, and Victor found himself staring at your lips. Your face was angelic to him, and the way your hands held the forceps made him think of other, less appropriate things. You were definitely skilled with your hands.
And your mouth. Victor licked his lips as you put the forceps in your mouth, carefully tying the knot to finish off his sutures. Fuck, that’s hot.
You smiled up at him; he felt his heart skip. You took the forceps out of your mouth, placing them back in the kit. You were so careful around him, cautiously placing the needle and thread back and taking out the ointment you always used after you helped him. You twist the cap off and squeeze some onto your finger. The ointment also numbed Victor’s skin, soothing his freshly-stitched arm. He felt his pyjama pants growing tighter. Fuck, you were really getting to him.
The final straw came when you stuck your tongue out in concentration. He wanted to bend you over the couch and fuck you right there. He imagined it in vivid detail, how his hand would tangle in your hair, his other roaming all over your body as you fit him like a glove…
“Victor?” Your confused voice snapped him out of his lust-filled daydreams. He nearly cursed aloud. The amount of self-restraint it took him not to act out his fantasies right there and then was taking a toll on him. You couldn’t see the problem in his pants because he was lying on his stomach, but he wanted you to. He wanted you to know how you made him feel.
“Everything alright?” You ask, your head turning to the side as you try to make sense of the look on his face. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking.
He faltered for a moment, his eyes suddenly snapping to yours. “Yeah…” he said quietly, beginning to sit up. “I actually have one more wound you could tend to, if you wanted. I think ointment would be enough.” You smile, eager to help. How did you still not notice? “Of course I can. Where is it?” Bless you. You were taking him literally. Always so eager to help. He smiled, and patted his inner thigh. “It’s right there.”
It seems you finally faltered a bit, noticing the tent in his pants.
“O-okay…” you say, stepping back to get ointment again. You had suddenly remembered how chiseled and damn tall he was. How is he so damn ripped?
Victor leans back onto the couch, his arms spread across the back. You gulp, and approach him slowly. You could feel yourself getting more and more turned on as you watched Victor, his head thrown back with his arms and his eyes watching you expectantly.
You move toward him measuredly, making sure he wants this. Victor looks up at you, his eyes full of an emotion you can finally place: lust.
It’s practically oozing off him in waves, and you can feel it getting to you as well. You breathe in slowly, trying to ground yourself. He had a wound for you to treat after all.
You finally get close to him, reaching slowly for his waistband.
“Wait.” He shifts, opening his legs so you can stand between them. You take a breath, squeezing your eyes shut to ground yourself. You open them. Victor’s irises meet yours, smoldering in a way that made you want to swoon. You step between his spread legs, grabbing the strings of his pyjama pants and undoing the knot. His erection is so obvious that it looks painful as you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down. He awkwardly raises his ass off the couch so that you can get the pants off enough, and you thank him quietly and do so. They rest at his calves, beckoning you to pull his boxers to the same level.
You opt not to, tucking your fingers under the fabric around his legs and pulling them up from the bottom. You weren’t going to push it, he needed to rest and let the stitches sit.
Victor’s brows furrow. “What are you doing?”
You cough awkwardly. “Fixing you up.”
He groans, the sound making you intake your breath sharply.
“Just fucking c’mere.” He grabs your arms and pulls you to him, smashing his lips onto yours. The kiss is searing, hot to the point it drives you crazy. His tongue enters the mix and you shudder with need. You tangle yours with his as he pulls you onto his lap. Your legs scramble to balance, and they land on either side of his crotch. You gasp on impact, colliding with his built torso. Your hands grip onto his shoulders before your eyes widen and your hands fly to the back of the couch. You pull away, panicked.
“Victor, you’re still injured! I just redid your sutures!” You whisper-yell, your voice strict. Victor rolls his eyes and throws his head back, a groan escaping his throat. His hands go to your ass, feeling and grabbing before they land on your hips. You can tell he’s holding himself back as he raises his head again, pulling his torso flush with your body and resting his chin on your stomach to look up with you. His eyes meet yours, and you see nothing but pure, unfiltered desire.
“Please, baby.” He begs you, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Victor, you’ll pop stitches again, and it’s 3am. Everyone in this apartment complex will hear.”
“Let them hear. Let the whole world hear. I don’t give a fuck, just let me please you.” He grumbles. You feel your resolve weakening.
“Victor, you… you shouldn’t….” You say, but his eyes pulled you in. You wanted this so bad. Victor always made you feel so good when you make love.
“Please baby. Let me thank you.” You close your eyes. You shouldn’t. But you do.
With a single nod, Victor’s strong arms are lifting you from his lap and setting you down on the couch. You’re placed on your back and Victor all but tears your pyjamas off. You’re surprised that the buttons are still on, as he’s popped them off of past garments in his haste.
Victor pushes your panties to the side with an impatient huff and he starts eating you out like you’re his last meal on Earth. You gasp in surprise and pleasure as his tongue hits your clit during a long stroke upward. It felt like he was everywhere at once, and your nerves were on fire. Victor’s tongue circled your clit, each stroke making you almost jolt up off the couch.
You begin to whimper, noticing how pointedly his tongue was moving to avoid your clit. He was doing this on purpose; Victor loved to make you wait for it, he almost always makes you beg. Something about it gets him even more riled up, although you can’t imagine him being any more riled up than he is now.
Victor sighs in bliss, and the air that emanates from his lips hits your pussy. You shudder, all your nerves on end.
“So fuckin pretty…” He breathes, barely loud enough to hear. You groan and twitch, loving and hating with how he’s teasing you. Victor chuckles, and it makes you twitch again. Fuck, he was good at this.
“Wanna tell me what you need?” He says, his breath against your pussy making you want to grab his face and pull him in to finish the job. You shake your head, too embarrassed to say anything. His ability to reduce you to a blushing mess in a matter of seconds always surprised you. You wouldn’t say you were easy to fluster, either.
He chuckled again, bringing his fingers up towards your legs.
“Really? Hmm…” He said, and began to trace your labia with his fingers. Your hips rocketed off the couch at his slight touch, but he pinned them down with his strong left arm while his right continued to work. His touch was featherlight against your pliable skin. You groan, gritting your teeth as his fingers continued up and down, his touch barely there but too much all at once. You groan again, trying desperately to push your legs together or get any kind of friction, but Victor doesn’t let up. He continues his movements, his fingers stopping short of your clit every time. He does it so casually, as if he were just scratching an itch somewhere on his body. You throw your head back against the couch, but he calls your name and you look up.
“Keep your eyes on me baby, I wanna see them… god you’re so fuckin pretty.” He says, and the praise goes straight to the pit of your stomach. He begins to run one of his large fingers up and down along your slit, and you’re practically vibrating from need.
“Gonna make you feel so fuckin good.” You whimper again, having lost track of how long he’s been teasing you for. The pressure of his arm holding your hips down, the feeling of his fingers teasing your entrance, the way he smirked, it was all too much. The seductive tone in his voice has you in a chokehold already.
“V-victor…” your voice trembles out, you’re unable to control it. He smiles darkly, his eyes half-lidded as he inhales.
His fingers are gone, but your whimper is soon cut off by his tongue on your clit. You let out a loud, strangled moan, surprised by the sudden contact. His tongue is fire, and he licks a stripe up your pussy as you continue to cry out.
He stops, face buried in your heat and inhales deeply.
“Thought you didn’t want anyone to hear you, love.” He smirks, and you fight the urge to pull him back in by his hair.
“I don’t care anymore.” You fidget, wanting his mouth back on you as soon as possible. His smirk only grows.
“I suppose I won’t pop my stitches if I eat you out, right?” Heat rushes to your face as you whimper and shift uncomfortably, wanting him back on you already. Victor, still smirking, lowers his mouth back onto you.
“You okay with this?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, speaking against your clit like this. It’s working too. You groan, and you can feel him smiling against you. You nod vigorously, eyes squeezed shut as his breath hits your core.
Victor dives back in, his tongue attacking your pussy with surprising speed, a welcome contrast from his painfully slow strokes earlier. You moan and writhe, struggling to keep your hips still. His strong hands pin them with ease, holding you down. He shifts his left arm across your torso, his hand coming to rest on your lower stomach. The pressure exposes you to him even more, and you feel your toes curl.
You’re so sensitive from his teasing earlier; it feels like a jolt of electricity through your whole body when his tongue brushes your clit directly. You moan loudly, and you can feel Victor smirk against your clit.
“Like that?” He says, pulling back a bit. You nod fervently, your head tilting back. You wait for him to go back in, but he doesn’t. You open one eye, and meet his with confusion.
“You taste so fucking good.” His voice is akin to a growl, and suddenly he’s on you again. His tongue alternates between long, up and down strokes and short strokes side to side. Your hands fly into his dark hair as his tongue slips across your slit wetly. The press of his hand in combination with his tongue has the knot in your stomach loosening. You begin to feel it untangle as he keeps his tongue moving against you.
Your moans grow erratic as Victor begins thrusting his tongue into you, your legs closing around his head. Victor groans into your pussy, the vibration making you squirm. He holds you down even still, moving both hands to your hips. His sheer strength overwhelms you, and his warm palms on your hipbones bring you toward the edge, on which you’re now dangling precariously.
“V-victor… I’m… oh god-“ You choke out, a strangled moan escaping your throat as your head snaps back in pleasure again.
His groans mingle with yours, and you notice he’s been humping the couch the entire time he’s been eating you out. The thought of him getting off on pleasuring you is so hot that you almost cum right there and then.
Victor notices. Through your time being intimate together, he’s figured out everything there is to know about your body. He’s unlocked new sensations that you didn’t even know you could feel. Some days, it feels like he knows your body better than you do.
“You gonna cum, love?” He asks through gritted teeth. His hips and tongue move rhythmically, and your moans grow louder, rapidly approaching their peak. You nod, your toes curling as he somehow doubles his efforts.
“Cum on my tongue, that’s it, you can do it.” He says, groaning when he feels you convulse around his tongue. He brings his thumb up to rub your clit, and that’s when you lose it. You cum hard, falling over the edge with a loud cry. You can feel Victor moan into you as well, dutifully coaxing you through your orgasm and cleaning its remnants up with his tongue.
He keeps going right through, and your legs shake violently.
“V-victor, baby, please, ‘s too much, fuckkkk…” you say, squirming with your hips finally unrestrained. You push his head back, holding his hair as a way to ground yourself. He finally stops, and you sigh in relief. You’re overstimulated as hell, your lower half twitching and your cunt sensitive. Every nerve is on edge, and it feels so damn good.
Victor smiles down at you, his face growing closer as your lips meet and he kisses you. When he pulls back, you nearly moan again. The sight of your mess on his face is enough to turn you on again, despite your overstimulated state. Victor catches the look in your eyes, and raises himself on his hands. They frame your head on the couch, and your eyes flick down to his crotch.
Victor’s erection is still straining against his boxers, standing at attention so hard that the tip is almost poking out of his waistband. You gulp, and quickly flick your eyes back up to his face, having been caught staring.
“We can stop, if you want.” His voice is softer, and his eyes search yours for any hint of doubt or resistance.
You don’t give him any. With just a quick nod from you, he’s on top of you.
Victor lines himself up with your entrance, his tip meeting your messy cunt and not lingering for long. Victor’s really big, of that you’ve been aware, but you always forget just how large he is until he’s sliding into you. Your lip catches between your teeth, and you tense as he begins to slide into you. You wince, only slightly, but Victor catches it.
“Relax, baby.” He soothes you as he stops in place, moving his hands to massage your inner thighs. You shudder at his touch, but his warm hands doing what he intended. You relax, breathing deeply. With a nod from you, he keeps moving in, slowly but surely pushing into your wet cunt. His grip on your thighs stabilizes your legs and grounds you as he bottoms out.
You moan wantonly in unison; the stretch is divine, and your fingers tangle in his hair as your head falls back onto the soft couch cushions.
“You feel- fuck- so good.” He groans, his hands leaving your thighs and moving to either side of your head on the couch, framing your face as he looks down at you. His multi-colored eyes gage your reaction, holding yours as he starts to move. You wrap your legs around his waist as he starts slowly thrusting into you, moaning as your cunt sucks him in further. Victor starts slow, leaning forward to find an angle that makes you tick. His tip brushes against that spot that always makes you see stars, and you yelp in surprise.
Victor’s eyes widen. “Gotcha.” He mumbles, and then really starts moving.
Victor’s thrusts are fast, hard, and deep, each one punctuating your moans, which are steadily growing louder. It’s like he goes deeper with each thrust, splitting you open every time his tip kisses your cervix.
His grunts and groans are almost animalistic, his teeth gritting while your nails dance across his back as you writhe in pleasure. You feel yourself reaching that familiar peak again, it’s within your grasp.
“Victor- fuck, baby, I’m gonna-“ You gasp as he hits especially deep inside you.
“Me too- fuck!” He groans as you take him. He pants as he fucks into you at an almost superhuman speed. He moans again.
“Fuck, baby, cum with me. Please, please.” He begs you, his hand flying to your clit and circling it with urgency. You cry out, higher than cloud 9 at this point.
You cry out as the pressure from his fingers and thrusts pushes you over the edge once more, and tears pool in the outer corners of your eyes. It feels so damn good. Your body’s on fire.
Victor’s moans crescendo at the feeling of you cumming around him and quickly follows suit, coating your insides with hot, white semen.
Both of you pant vigorously as his head crashes onto your chest and your arms go limp, falling off his back and dangling over the edge of the couch.
Victor’s the first to move after what feels like both forever and not long enough, kissing your chest.
“You feel so good, baby.” He breathes, surveying the damage he’d done in his horny fervor. Marks on your chest and neck were evident, and he smiles at his handiwork.
“You okay?” He asks, his brows knitting together in concern when you don’t move. You inhale and bring your head up, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. You frown when you remember the sutures you had done freshly half an hour ago.
“Victor, love, did you pop your sutures?” You crane your neck to look for any blood or injury.
“Nope. Haven’t felt better in a while, actually.” He chuckles, bringing himself up to rest on his elbows.
You sigh with relief, letting your head fall back onto the couch. Victor pushes himself up off you, admiring the mess he made between your thighs.
Before you know it, he scoops you up into his arms, closing your shaking thighs together as he carries you.
“V-victor, where are we…?” Your brain is in a fog, you’re too filled with ecstasy to think.
“Bathroom, to clean you up. Then bed.” He answers, his steps purposeful.
“Does that mean you’ll stay in bed this time?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.
He laughs again, a full and happy one now.
“Love, I’m gonna sleep like a baby. Trust me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you off to bed happily.