where oceans bleed into the sky

“Hey! I’m—” Home. I almost said home. “Here.”

“I’m outside, my love,” Victor’s smooth voice calls out from the open doors leading to the backyard of his house. 

Six months. It’s been six months of Dr. Victor Gideon calling you my love. Six months of spending every available second of your days with him. Six months of falling asleep together and waking up in each other’s arms. Six glorious, blissful months.

You still don’t know what to call him after all this time. Boyfriend is too juvenile a term and definitely can’t describe the man that is Victor. He’s your best friend, your coworker, your equal. You had referred to him as your partner before to friends and family, but he is so much more than that. He’s the love of your life. He’s everything.

So many things have happened since the night you stayed over for the first time. I’d like you to stay forever. That’s what he had said. It had played on a loop almost everyday for a month, bringing a smile to your face at any given moment.

It’s like the universe had been on your side from the beginning. Your relationship with Victor is, for lack of a better word, perfect. Sure, you have had your fair share of arguments and fights in the past, but you never went to bed angry. It’s work, of course it’s work, but nothing in your life had ever been this easy, this rewarding.

Everyone at the care center knows you’re together now as well. It’s not like you could have hidden it anyway. But tonight is the first night your relationship will be on display for all to see. Tonight is the Rhodes Hill Charity Ball, and you and Victor will be going as each other’s dates. 

You had just grabbed your dress from your house when you made your way over to his. You had planned to get ready here, considering he lived on the property of the center. And besides, Victor had insisted that you keep some of your belongings at his home. You do stay over quite a lot, usually overnight and multiple days in a row. You aren’t complaining, however. He always asks you to stay, with those gorgeous yellow eyes and that goofy gold grin, they make it very hard for you to disagree. 

It’s a beautiful spring day, and Victor has all the windows open throughout the house. Lavender hits your senses from the wind that carries it through the space. You stop by his home office to say hello to Artemis, his pet boa constrictor before you walk towards the back doors. The sun is shining in long beams along the floorboards, casting light all over the rooms you pass through. You’re in a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top, and the warm air feels amazing.

When you reach the backyard, your gaze lands on Victor. Heat blazes over your skin, and it’s not just from the sun. 

He’s laying back on a lounge chair, his shoulders so broad they hang off on either side. His wide chest is bare except for the necklace you got him all those months ago, and he’s only in a pair of shorts. Long, muscular legs are stretched out in front of him, his feet hanging off the bottom. Finding any kind of furniture to accommodate his size is difficult, but he make’s do. Aviator sunglasses shield his eyes, making him look even more delicious. 

Basking in the sun like a fucking lizard. 

“Pardon me, but I believe I’m the voyeur in this relationship, sweetheart.”

You huff out a laugh, not at all embarrassed at being caught. You walk over to him as you say, “Are you saying I’m not allowed to check you out?”

“You are absolutely allowed, but all I’m saying is you should take a seat,” he pats the chair next to him, “and let me do the same to you.”

You lean down next to his prone form with a smile and press your lips to his. The skin of his mouth is uncharacteristically warm and it send a jolt of pleasure through you. He groans when you run your hands along the planes of his scarred, scaled chest, the heat of him practically searing your palms. His huge hands trace along the flesh of your legs causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

Victor moans against your mouth. “You’re going to be the death of me. And I’ll gladly dig my own grave.”

“As long as I’m buried on top,” you joke, even though his words have butterflies swarming your stomach. 

He only laughs as he watches you move to sit along side him in your own lounge chair. 

“Do you have everything you need for tonight’s event?”

“Yeah, I just had to grab my dress and my makeup bag. How about you? Did you finish your speech?”

“My tuxedo was ready earlier this morning, and I retrieved it before you arrived. My speech is another matter entirely,” Victor mutters as he sheepishly looks away.

You frown. “Are you nervous?” He nods in answer. “But you’re a great public speaker. When you talk, everyone listens. You’re gonna have those people eating out of the palm of your hand.”

He smirks at that. “Thank you. But this isn’t just a board meeting or a medical debriefing, it’s a very important speech that could potentially ensure funding for the facility for the next ten years. Several sponsors will be there, and our future depends on them. I’d like to make a lasting impression.”

Our future.

The sentiment drifts out of your mind when it suddenly occurs to you that you can almost see the weight baring down on his shoulders.

“Would you like to go over it with me? Maybe that will help ease your nerves.”

Victor tilts his head back towards you and sighs. “That is a very good idea. Let me fetch it from my study.”

A wolf whistle cuts through the air as he gets up and walks into the house, giving you your first view of the day of his muscled back and ass. He roars with laughter and throws a pointed look over his shoulder at your foolery.

You sit up when he comes back with the pages. He stands in front of your chair, all seven feet of imposing height and masculine presence, and begins to read. 

The speech is well written, direct, and flows elegantly out of Victor’s mouth. He’s charismatic and doesn’t have to look at the words very often. It seems he remembers a good chunk of it. Halfway through, you realize you’re smiling from ear to ear, and he’s encouraged. 

By the end, his posture is relaxed and his voice is no longer tight. You have to blink rapidly to pull your mind from the haze of his hypnotic tone. 

You clap lightly when he’s finished. “That was brilliant. I think it was concise and straight to the point without being pretentious. I’m sorry you’re feeling anxious, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Plus, you can always look to Dr. Richardson and imagine him in his underwear while you’re up there.”

Your shit-eating grin is enough for him to quickly lunge at you, pinning you to the chair. You let out a joyous shriek as he looms over you.

Victor runs the tip of his nose along yours as he murmurs, “Thank you for letting me rehearse it with you. I do feel much more comfortable now.”

“You’re welcome. You’re going to do great.”

You gently kiss him, catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He breathes in and grasps the back of your head to deepen the kiss. His forked tongue is hot and heavy in your mouth making you dizzy from the foreign sensation. Every part of him is nearly always cold, so the change is a nice surprise from his basking. 

“We have a few more hours until the ball. Why don’t I take your mind off of it for a while?” You whisper, palming his already half-hard cock through his shorts. 

“I like the way you think, my dear.”

***

After a few rounds of love-making under the sun and in bed, you seem to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. The rock being Victor’s arm, and the hard place being his large chest. He’s spooning you, his forearm in the valley of your breasts and his hand resting around your neck. His chin sits atop your head. The way his massive body envelopes you is mind-boggling sometimes.  

“Victor,” you giggle, “I have to start getting ready. It’s late.”

“You’re preserving my body heat. Five more minutes, please,” he mumbles. 

“You said that five minutes ago.”

He sighs dramatically. “Alright, if you insist.” He reluctantly untangles his arms from you.

As you climb out of bed, he lovingly smacks your ass earning him a high-pitched yelp.

“Excuse me,” he asks, “where is my kiss?”

You chuckle, knowing that particular tactic. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one.”

A devious grin spreads on his face from above the covers. “You know me too well.”

He flings the covers off his naked body and stands. He is a masterpiece, plain and simple. The scales that cover his skin are shimmering in reds and blues from the afternoon light. You turn to ogle him only to find he’s studying your bare form as well. There’s maybe three feet of space that separates you which he can cross easily with just one arm, but he lets you take your fill. 

You break first when you take a step and reach out to splay your hand on his abdomen. He’s so tall and big up this close. And when he leans down to lock his lips with yours, he’s basically bending in half. He pulls away to brush the shell of your ear.

He mutters, “I love you. Now, leave me to get dressed, woman. You’re distracting me.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you as you push him away. You stroll to the bathroom and start setting up your makeup. You apply the basics: eyeliner, shadow, mascara, some blush, and a bit of highlighter. You swipe some gloss over your lips for the final touch. The slight smokey eye and subtleness of the rest will go wonderfully with your gown.

It’s a deep gold color that’s backless with a halter top. It just borders on this side of appropriate for a work function, but that’s why you love it. To show off your back, you decide to wear your hair up in an intricate bun. You slip into the dress and stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of the closet. After you put on your platform heels, you take a few minutes to admire yourself when you hear Victor call your name.

“Yes?”

You can sense irritation in his tone. “Will you help me with this blasted thing when you have a moment?”

The bowtie. You sashay into the bedroom and find him standing in front of a smaller mirror on the dresser. He’s dressed in a stylish black tux and wingtips, fiddling with the tie at his throat. He notices your entrance in his peripheral and turns.  

Victor double takes as his eyes widen. His jaw goes slack, the fabric at his neck completely forgotten at the sight of you. You never thought dumbstruck could be used to describe him, yet here you are. 

He tries a few times to find the words, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. 

“You are the most exquisite being on the planet,” he decidedly whispers. “I cannot believe I have the privilege to call you mine.”

Giddiness and arousal make a blush rise to your cheeks from his words and the way he looks. It’s all so sexy and alluring and extremely hot.

Victor steps backwards to the bed and sits, never taking his eyes off you. “Come here. Slowly.”

His command makes your core throb with blatant need. You do as you’re told and saunter over to him, the high slit in your gown revealing almost your entire leg when you walk. His eyes rove over you longingly, everything capturing his attention. You stop when you’re between his thighs.

“Turn around.”

You spin until your back is to him, casting a demure look over your shoulder. You think you hear a small gasp when his eyes land on your exposed back. “Do you like the dress?”

“I fucking love it,” Victor growls as he pulls you close and into his groin, his chin now resting on your shoulder. Your grin widens when his clothed cock presses into the underside of your ass.

“Victor…” you chastise. 

“Yes?” He drags the s out like a hiss. 

“Behave yourself. We have somewhere to be in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m the director,” he drawls, “we can be late.”

You hear the distinct sound of his mouth opening, his hot breath ghosting over you where your neck meets your shoulder. Preparing to latch on, no doubt.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, quickly twirling around in his arms when you feel his canines graze your skin. He’s chuckling at your exasperation. “Don’t. You. Dare. I cannot have a fresh love bite on full display at a professional event!”

“You, my dear, are no fun.”

You swat playfully at his chest and grab the silk of his bowtie with your fingers. Deftly, you tie the knot and fluff the bow to sit evenly at his neck. 

“You look incredibly handsome, mister. I better keep my eye on you tonight or someone might try to snatch you up.”

Victor rolls his eyes with a cheeky grin and cocks his head. “There is only one woman on this earth that I desire, and she’s right here.” He squeezes your hips for emphasis. 

“She’s not going anywhere, either,” you breathe with a peck to his mouth. “I love you so much. Let’s get going, big guy.”

***

The care center’s main lobby has been transforming into the perfect venue. A massive stage, backdrop, and podium sit to the right while lavish tables with beautiful center pieces line the left. In the center is a curated dance floor. A string quartet plays softly from beyond the stairs, an instrumental rendition of a popular song hitting your ears as you walk in. 

Victor’s holding your hand, absentmindedly stroking your faded scar with his thumb. The room is nearly full even though you’re technically early. It’s mostly staff, your fellow coworkers and doctors. A low hum of chatter fills the space and makes you buzz with anticipation. These things are fun, a time to unwind and enjoy other people’s company. Sure they can be stuffy and ostentatious, but with Victor by your side, it’s bound to be entertaining.

Immediately, Dr. Richardson and Dr. Rogers spot you two, and the evening begins. You make small talk among your colleagues and their spouses, speaking for Victor more often than not. He’s the mysterious, brooding type as most of them already know, but every once in a while you glance up at him. He’s always smiling fondly down at you. A lull in the conversation indicates your exit when you lean into him.

“I’m just going to go say hello to my friends,” you say.

He nods and brushes your spine with his fingertips. “I’ll come find you.”

Three of your nurse friends are huddled in a group across the floor. They see you approach and squeal with delight, welcoming you with hugs and pleasantries. Everyone looks gorgeous and happy and your face hurts from laughter only after a few minutes with them. 

You glance back and scan the ever-growing crowd for Victor. He’s a foot and a half taller than the tallest man in here, so spotting him isn’t very difficult. He’s been swept up in a conversation with two prestigious philanthropists and it seems to be going well. Their rapt attention is on him while he’s gesturing vaguely to the care center. Hanging onto his every word.

He must feel your eyes on him because he snaps his gaze to you and winks. You turn away with a blush, hand covering your mouth trying to remain unflustered. It doesn’t work, however, and your friends tease you incessantly. It feels like your crush just acknowledged you for the first time in middle school. God, I am such a lovesick puppy.

Suddenly, you feel Victor’s presence at your back, his voice rumbling from above your head. “Good evening, ladies. Would you mind if I stole this one away for a short time?”

“She’s all yours!” One of your friends chirps. 

His hand rests on the small of your back as he leads you away to a darkened alcove. “You’re absolutely devastating in that dress, darling.”

He pushes you up against a wall away from prying eyes and swallows the gasp that escapes your mouth. You moan into the kiss, twirling your tongue around his. Your teeth click together at the force of it. Victor moves his fingers into the slit of your dress and hooks your leg over his hip, spreading you around his girth. 

You’re dizzy with lust and excitement, not really caring who might catch a glimpse of you two. A thrill shoots through you at the thought. 

“And you’re driving me insane. Networking with people should not be that sexy.”

His deep chuckle next your ear has a new wave of arousal flooding your system. The pad of his thumb strokes your clit through your panties, pressing circles over the swollen nub. You whine, the sound drowned out by the party happening only a few feet away. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at me. You were begging me to make you come. I saw it in your eyes.”

“Please don’t stop talking,” you whisper, your orgasm building rapidly from his ministrations.

A sharp laugh cuts through the air, echoing off the walls surrounding you. “I’ll give you whatever you need. Whatever you want. Anything to hear those little sounds come out of your pretty mouth.”

The coil inside you instantly snaps, a pulse so dominant it has your knee buckling with a shout. Victor’s other arm catches you on your descent, your orgasm sending your head spinning. Black spots float across your vision as you open your eyes. You’re panting into his neck, your breath rustling the graying hair at his nape. 

He sets your leg down gently to the floor and helps you straighten. He kneels to fix your dress around your hips, making him eye level with you. In the dark of the alcove, his golden eyes are glowing. His smile grows when you pitch forward and lick the seam in his bottom lip.

“Hopefully no one saw us.”

Victor gives your body an appraising look. “If they did, that was their bonus for the year.”

“Ha ha,” you huff, “Come on, we’ve been here way too long. Let’s go, Dr. Sex.”

You're almost positive his laughter at the name can be heard from every corner of the care center.

***

The dinner service is about to begin when you make your way to the dining area. Your table is right in the center, your seats facing the stage. Nothing but the best for the director and his date. Victor pulls your chair out for you, ever the gentleman, before he takes the seat next to you. Apparently, you’re too far away, because he pulls your chair flush with his and lays his arm across the back of yours. The way he moves you as if you weigh nothing has the ache returning low in your belly. 

The food is delicious and melts in your mouth. As you enjoy your meal and chat lightly with Victor, you feel eyes on you. The hair on the back of your neck rises and you subtly turn your head to survey the room. Dr. Richardson and his wife with some other esteemed guests are present at the table with you, but they’re all busy with their own conversations. The feeling is coming from somewhere else. 

Victor of course, notices the imperceptible shift in your behavior. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” you murmur into him, “someone’s watching me I think. I can feel it. I don’t know who, though. And I don’t want to make it obvious that I’m looking.”

He nods faintly and lifts his head. You realize the exact moment he finds the culprit, because his giant hand tightens on your chair. 

“Fucking Bennett.”

Chairman Mitchell Bennett. 

“Ah, I should have figured. He’s such a slimeball,” you snark. You and the chairman have a complicated relationship. It’s something of a love-hate one. You hate him, despise him really, and he loves you. Mitchell never does anything to you that’s necessarily inappropriate or untoward, it’s mostly longing stares and awkward exchanges. But underneath it all, you know that he would jump at the chance in a second if you gave him an opening.

Victor is aware of all this. When you first started working at Rhodes Hill, it didn’t take long for him to catch on. Even though Mitchell had been the chairman for many years at that point, Victor didn’t hesitate to express his concerns to you. He’d said he would fire Bennett just for making you feel uncomfortable. He didn’t care what the chairman did for his center or how much money he made for it. He just wanted you to feel safe in your work environment.

Victor was such a good friend to you from the start when you really think about it, especially regarding that. He barely knew you then, and he was already threatening to fire his coworker he’d known for close to a decade, all to keep you feeling secure. As much as Mitchell had annoyed you, you were a big girl. You could figure out how to handle him. You did, and still do, with weaponized civility. You had told all this to Victor, that is wasn’t a concern, and he reluctantly agreed to drop the matter.

A growl next to your ear breaks you from your recollection. “He’s undressing you with his perverted eyes. I should have gutted him like a fish as soon as he showed his depraved interest in you.”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at the hint of jealousy lacing his tone. Or is it possessiveness? Either way, it’s nice to be coveted. 

“Baby, look at me,” you coo. He pulls his menacing gaze away from Bennett. His eyes soften immediately when they meet yours. “It’s okay. I told you, if he ever crosses a line, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, kissing your cheek, “but I will not be responsible for my actions if he does.”

“I know. I’ll be first in line to watch you beat his ass.” His eyes darken at the possibility.

***

Dinner concludes and Victor rises from his seat to head to the podium to give his awaited speech. Before he can get very far, you snag his jacket sleeve and tug him down to you. His left arm remains on the back of your chair while his right leans on the table in front of you, caging you in. “Yes, love?”

“Good luck.” You kiss his cold cheek reassuringly. “Remember—” You discreetly point to Dr. Richardson, relaying your message from this afternoon. 

Your smile widens when Victor chuckles darkly. “Thank you kindly for the reminder.”

He raises to his full height, all dark and formidable, and takes slow, deliberate steps to the stage. You can tell he’s still a bit nervous, but his gate is steady, his shoulders squared. You watch as every single pair of attending eyes follows him across the room. 

When he stands at the microphone, he shuffles in his jacket pocket for his glasses. They’re wire-framed and circular, and he looks so fucking cute, if such a word could be associated with him. Between his tux and the frames sitting low on his nose, he looks swoon-worthy. 

Victor adjusts the microphone and his polished voice reaches your ears. “To my honored guests and colleagues, I welcome you…” 

***

You’re the first one to stand and start clapping when the speech ends. The room follows with a standing ovation. He did wonderfully. He was articulate, sophisticated, and even threw in some jokes. He must have kept them out of his practice read earlier in the day. You were smiling the whole time. Victor’s eyes briefly met yours a few times during the speech and it made you feel special, like you were in on a secret. You gave him a thumbs up once which had earned you a smirk. 

He thanks the crowd and exits the stage to benefactors and sponsors waiting to shake his hand and congratulate him. You watch the interactions and feel such an intense ache of love in your chest, it’s suddenly hard to breathe. You’re so proud of him.

The MC announces the dance floor is now open and welcomes people to transition to the space for a more relaxed, social atmosphere. You’ve been looking forward to this part. You want to slow dance with your man, goddamnit. It’s one of your favorite things about Victor. He always puts on a record and asks in that sultry voice to join him. It’s kind of your thing together. You won’t be entertaining any other suitors if they decide to proposition you tonight. 

Victor is heavily engaged with a man from a prominent pharmaceutical company, so you accept the idea that you’ll have to wait. Which is fine with you, anything to rest your tender feet in these heels before dancing. Before you can lower yourself to your chair, a sweaty palm lands on your shoulder. Revulsion passes through you, knowing who it is at once. 

Mitchell comes into view with a leer on his face, less friendly and more predatory than you’ve ever seen him. The smell of alcohol on his breath tells you why. Of course he’s fucking drunk.

“Ah, Chairman,” you grimace, trying and failing to hide you disdain. “How nice it is to see you again.”

He misses the sarcasm in your voice or chooses to ignore it. “Please, call me Mitchell,” he slurs, “You’ve been working here for over a year and a half. I think we’ve moved past formalities, don’t you?”

His hand hasn’t left your shoulder. You try to shrug off the touch with a flick of your head, clearing your throat, but his grip only tightens. Read the fucking room, pal.

Your eyes narrow to slits as you grab his other hand, mimicking a handshake. His hand is the same size as yours and limp, so different from the man you know and love. You squeeze his knuckles and grind the bones together harshly, making him wince. 

“Think carefully about where and how you lay your hands on me, Bennett. I’d hate for you to suffer the consequences of your own actions,” you say in mock sympathy. 

Silence stretches between you two, your grip on his hand only getting stronger and more severe. A warning. The hand on your shoulder slips off.

Loud, thunderous footfalls sound behind him, stopping at his back. His eyes go comically wide, terror twisting his features. For a second, you think he’s going to wet himself. Enormous, scaled hands clap on the tops of his shoulders, making Bennett startle. He drops your hand in a flash like he’s been burned.

You lock eyes with Victor. His head is two feet above the chairman’s, and he looks positively murderous. His eyes never leave yours as he bends down to whisper in Mitchell’s ear. 

“Bennett, I see the concept of consent is a difficult one for you to grasp, so let me be perfectly clear. If you ever speak to, look at, or touch my woman again, I will kill you.”

Victor clutches the back of the chairman’s neck and lifts him ever so slightly, not enough to draw attention, but enough for the toe’s of Bennett’s shoes to scrape the floor. 

“And also, I expect your resignation on my desk by Monday morning. If I see you once more tonight, you’ll regret it. Now, be a good little boy and run along.”

He shoves Bennett away which causes the man to stumble into a table clumsily. 

Some curious glances move your way, but it seems most people assume the chairman is only drunk. He practically runs to the exit of the care center, pushing through the doors frantically and out of sight. After he’s gone, the tension drains from your body.

Victor’s staring down at you with a mix of fury and concern. He tenderly grabs your chin and says, “Are you alright?”

You nod. A deviously, satisfied smile lights up your face. “Director Gideon, you better dance with me soon before I drop to my knees in front of all these fine patrons and put on a show.”

His chin drops to his chest, a sigh of relief leaving him in a huff. When he lifts his head, his smile matches yours. He removes his hand from your face and lifts it in front of you, palm up. A new song has started playing. “May I have this dance?”

You take his hand, elated to finally have what you wanted all night. And with no interruptions. On the dance floor, Victor bows theatrically and pulls you into his embrace. 

“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” you say. “Although, if you came any later, I would have broken his wrist.” 

“As thrilling as that may have been, I’m very happy with the outcome.”

He twirls you effortlessly and you fall back into step with him. 

“I’ll help you find someone new to fill his role. It’s my fault he’s gone anyway. I’m sorry it’s going to cause such a headache.” Now that the adrenaline has worn off, guilt sinks like a stone in your stomach.

Victor’s hold on you tightens a fraction. “You are not at fault here. Do not apologize for him. He is easily replaceable.” 

He dips you without warning, making you cling to his neck with a girlish squeal. You know he’s trying to distract you and it’s working. As you hang there in his arms feeling weightless, you giggle and nuzzle his face. 

“You were amazing up there by the way,” you whisper. “I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“And I couldn’t stop looking at you. You have a way of grounding me. It means everything. My love for you knows no bounds.”

Your lip begins to tremble at the sudden wave of emotion from his words. You’re at a loss, and the only way to answer is to kiss him passionately. He straightens with you in his arms, your feet dangling in the air. The corners of your mouth lift against his lips, knowing he’s making sure every single person in this room notices.

Victor delicately places you back on your feet. You pull back and rest your chin in between his pecs, wrapping your arms around his big body. Your fingertips barely touch at the small of his back. The song comes to end, the melody ending on a wispy note that makes you feel like you’re floating. 

Some donors from the nearby hospital are mingling on the edge of the dance floor, eager to talk to the Victor. They had been lifting they’re hands throughout your last dance, trying to catch his attention and beckon him over. He’s purposely ignoring them you think.

One of them is bold enough to saddle up next to your intimate embrace and ask, “May I interrupt? I’d like to discuss some opportunities with Dr. Gideon.”

Without looking over at the intruder, you clarify, “It’s okay. Go.”

Victor doesn’t take his eyes off of you. He swallows thickly, determination is his eyes.

“I’m sorry my good man,” he apologizes, keeping his attention on you, “but I owe the lady one more dance before the evening is over. You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid.”

The donor seems stunned, but ultimately leaves the two of you alone once more.

“Victor, that was probably very important. I’ll be fine, really.”

“You are very important. They can exercise some patience. I want one more song with you.”

With that, he leads you into the next dance, and you think you’ve never felt happier than in that moment.

***

The terrace of the care center is thankfully empty when you make your way out the side doors. It’s lined with stone benches and ornate planters. The various flowers and small trees make the area welcoming under the moonlight. The night is slightly chilled, but in your gown, it’s enough to keep you warm. 

After your second dance with Victor, he returned to working the room with the many sponsors left at the ball. You had needed some air, your thoughts and feelings consuming your mind all night making you unsteady. Your mind shifts to the past six months. 

The meteor shower that was your first date. The afternoon in Victor’s office when you first told him you loved him. The first night you made love and stayed at his home. It all comes to the forefront of your mind. You are truly, madly, deeply, in love with this man. You smile to yourself and stare up at the moon. 

You turn and peer through the windows to spot Victor sitting at a table with a group of people, shaking the hand of an older woman whose speaking enthusiastically. It appears he just made a very good deal, the grin on his face giving him away. 

The ball has cleared out by now, the event nearly over. Everyone stands from the table, exchanging what looks like pleasant goodbyes, as they all stroll to the exit. 

Victor waves to them and once they’re out a view, his shoulders drop in relaxation. He pulls a hand through his hair and adjusts his jacket and tie. You rarely get the chance to observe him, so when he spins around to look for you, you let him search. 

You’re laughing, somewhat hysterically, as confusion etches his face at not being able to locate you. He’s like a helicopter, always aware of your whereabouts, but from all the interference tonight, he’s stumped. Your joyous sounds must find his ears through the glass, because he finally sees you outside. You give him a vulgar gesture. His eyes flash in challenge. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he says, pushing through the doors with purpose, “but this area is off limits. If you don’t vacate the premises, you’ll have to be forcibly removed.” 

“Hey,” you reply, holding up your hands in surrender, “You don’t have to tell me twice. I know where I’m not wanted.” You twirl on your heels and stride away at a brisk pace.

Victor is on you in two seconds flat. You scream when he lifts you into a bridal carry, chuckling at your incredulous expression. He begins the trek back to his house on the property, and there’s no indication he’s going to put you down. 

“You’re way too fast for such a big man,” you pout. 

“One of my strides is three of yours, that’s all.”

“True,” you agree with a giggle. “So, how do you think it went tonight?”

His brow bone waggles and he gives you a lopsided grin. “It’s not over yet.”

***

Once you’re inside his house, Victor takes you straight to his bedroom. When he puts you down, the stare that you share lasts only a few seconds before you launch at each other. The tension snaps and it’s all sharp teeth and clawing hands and pulling hair. Clothes are being hurriedly yanked off and thrown haphazardly around the room. You’re dragging your nails down his chest and his forked tongue is invading your mouth and the air is so thick with need, you can almost smell it.

You reach down to remove your heels when Victor stops the movement. “Keep those on.”

His pupils are black and his sclerae are blood red, all of the yellow of his irises swallowed by desire. If you were anyone else, his appearance would frighten you, but all it does is bring something primal out of you. 

Victor grasps your hips tightly, and spins you so your back hits his solid chest. His skin is cold, sending a shiver down your spine. You’re bending now, over the small desk in the room guided by his colossal hand. He pushes you until you’re flush with the wood, your hard nipples brushing the smooth surface. You let out a low hiss at the sensation. The position is exceptionally provocative with your ass up in the air and the heels giving you an unnatural height.

“Victor, what are you—” Your words die in your throat when you feel his tongue lick you from your clit all the way to your puckered hole. A surprised moan tears through you at the feeling when he spreads you open further with his hands on your ass. 

“You’re beautiful,” he hisses. “So fucking beautiful. Look at you, already so wet for me.”

His words have you a whimpering mess in no time. His tongue slides around your clit, cradling it and circling it fervently. He’s feasting on you like a man starved and when his tongue enters you, it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

The calloused pad of his finger flicks your clit and you see stars. You come in shattering fragments, feeling like your exploding from the inside out. The pulses wash through, clenching over and over and over. He’s coaxing you through it, thrusting his tongue teasingly in and out of your pussy. Tears stream down your face and onto the desk. 

“Okay, okay, it’s t-too much,” you plead, nudging his head away with your hand. 

Victor trails wet kisses up your back lovingly all the way up to your ear. “Was that alright?”

You nod your head with a pleased hum. 

“Let me fuck you like this. Please.”

It’ll be a new position for you, mostly because of the logistics and angle, but you’re so turned on and not thinking straight, that you’re sure it won’t be a problem. You vigorously nod your head again. 

A soft chuckle sounds from above. “That’s my girl.”

You hear the click of Victor’s belt buckle and some shuffling, then his huge cock prods your entrance. The flared head slides into your core, making both of you moan. He gradually surges forward and stretches you, his cock halfway inside already. There’s no pain, just a slight pressure, and you push back to fully sheath him inside of you. A surprised grunt escapes him, tipping him forward. 

“Holy fucking shit,” you whimper. “You feel incredible.”

His thumbs massage your lower back as he pulls away and moves forward with an experimental thrust. It’s quite literally ecstasy and your cry of pleasure has Victor growling. He starts fucking you in earnest, knowing you adjusted quickly. 

“You’re taking me so well in this position,” he pants hungrily. “I knew you could.”

The sounds from your wet pussy and his balls slapping your clit are so obscene, you feel your orgasm building in you again. His girth and length always hit those delicious places inside your walls, but something about this angle has you spasming faster than normal. 

“Oh fuck, I’m coming, I’m—” The words are barely out of your mouth before your release cuts through you, blossoming along your spine from your belly to your toes. 

Victor’s thrust are erratic and stutter when you fiercely clench around him, nearly bringing him to his knees. He’s muttering under his breath, words like goddess and divine and perfect spilling from his lips.

He falls over the edge, coming inside you with a loud roar. His elbows hit the desk, rattling the top of it. It groans under his weight and yours, but you can’t find it in you to care if it collapses. You’re both breathing heavily while he kisses your temple. You stay like that for some time, enjoying the quiet moment after.

***

Naked and content, you and Victor lay in his silk sheets, him propped up by some pillows and you snuggled in the crook of his arm, your head on his shoulder. You’re tracing the inside of his large palm with your fingertips and compare your hand to his. He laces his fingers with yours, the touch tender and sweet.

He clears his throat, so you tip back your head to eye him. “I have…a proposition for you, if you’re interested in hearing it.”

You sit up because of the seriousness of his tone. “Oh,” you murmur, “okay, what is it?”

“These past six months have been the happiest of my life.” His voice is low, hushed. “And it’s because of you. I don’t want to spend another minute in your absence. So—”

He reaches in the nightstand’s top drawer and pulls out a small, silver key. He holds it out to you with a shaky hand. 

“—I’d like you to move in with me. I don’t want this to just be my home any longer, I want it to be ours. What do you say?”

You stare down at the tiny piece of metal, and everything it means. You smile shyly and look into his expectant eyes. Your answer is easy, immediate, three little meaningful letters.

You’d been dating Dr. Victor Gideon officially for three months now. Everything was going swimmingly, until a certain, blonde-haired man decided to show up one day at the care center. 

You were making your way to Victor’s office, carrying a stack of reports that you were planning to discuss with him over lunch. His office door was open, which in and of itself wasn’t unusual, the raised voices coming from within were though. Your steps slowed to a stop just outside the door, confusion seeping into your veins. 

You heard an unfamiliar, raspy tone bite through the air. 

“You’re hiding something from me. Your work has been slipping lately, Victor. You’re distracted. You’ve lost your edge.” 

Who the fuck was that? Your body stiffened immediately. Alarm bells were going off in your mind at the harshness of it. No one ever talked to Victor that way, and a prickle of anxiety washed over you. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Zeno. I’ve grown tired of your constant grievances and complaints. My work and that of my colleagues far exceed expectations.”

Victor’s voice was thick with condescension. You could tell right away that he was livid.

“One way or another, I’ll find out what or who has gotten you so unfocused. It’s only a matter of time. Goodbye, Victor.”

Panic shot through your spine at the sudden, hasty footsteps headed in your direction. You backed away from the open door and stepped to the side, hoping whoever this Zeno was would walk past unaware of your presence.

Unfortunately, such luck was not on your side. A well-dressed man in sunglasses came into view, stopping directly in front of you. He had blonde, slicked back hair and what looked like a black, textured scar stretching from the nape of his neck to his temple. He turned to acknowledge you with a sinister leer. It set your teeth on edge instantly.

He laughed at your guarded expression and said, “Well, it must be my lucky day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before. And who might you be?”

A moment passed when you wondered if you should even answer. Sometimes having a resting bitch face worked out in your favor, but from the way he moved into your space, you knew it wouldn’t be so easy to scare him away.

You stood tall and responded with, “My name is Dr. (y/l/n). I work along side Dr. Gideon.” It was barely a morsel of information, but it still felt like too much. His eyes roamed over your figure salaciously, making it very hard not to squirm and give him the satisfaction. 

“Is that so?” Zeno asked. “And how exactly do you work along side him?”

You bristled at the implication, regretting it immediately. Something in your face must have given it away, because Zeno’s eyes widened behind his shades.

“I’m a fellow researcher here. And we are very busy. From the conversation I just overheard, it seems you may have overstayed your welcome. So I suggest you see yourself out,” you hissed defensively, hoping he’d at least give you a wide berth due to the venom in your voice. 

Alas, he remained and muttered under his breath, “I knew it.” With a shake of his head and a laugh, his hand moved to the side of your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You froze, the shock of his touch locking up your body involuntarily.

“If you ever want to have some real fun, give me a call.” A business card was thrown at your feet, fluttering to the ground. The air surrounding you almost felt suffocating. “I’ll see you around I’m sure.”

Heavy footsteps sounded to your left. You saw Victor standing in the doorway, white hot fury twisting his features. His eyes locked on Zeno’s hand still lingering on your face. A knowing smile played at the corners of Zeno’s mouth and with a flourish, he was gone, down the hallway and out of sight. 

Fuck, he knows. And Victor’s reaction just confirmed it.

Victor stormed back into his office without a word, slamming the door shut.

***

You shook off the disgusting interaction, wiping at your cheek and hair trying to remove any trace that prick left on you. 

Squaring your shoulders, you walked up to Victor’s door and knocked. You weren’t one to let things sit after all. Obviously what Victor had seen and heard was a misunderstanding. He couldn’t possibly think you enjoyed Zeno touching you like that, propositioning you like that, could he?

Then why did he slam the door in my face?

When an eerie silence answered you on the other side, you pushed the door open and closed it behind you. Victor’s back was to you, shoulders tensed with his hands gripping the edge of his desk like a vice. You weren’t sure how to handle this exactly. You both had tempers, and sometimes they would rear their ugly heads during disagreements, but this was uncharted territory. A true argument, a true fight, was yet to be had between the two of you. 

Here goes nothing.

“Victor, what you saw out there, what you heard, it wasn’t—”

“What the fuck were you thinking letting him touch you like that?” His tone was like ice, cold and cutting. Barely above a whisper, but it reached your ears with a resounding clarity. 

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me? Let him touch me? I didn’t let him do anything. I don’t even know who he is! He took advantage of the situation and cornered me. I had no idea he was going to do that.” 

Victor spun around to you then. Rage simmered on his face and in his eyes, his yellow irises glowing like fire. He was practically snarling at you. “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

There was a time, when you were younger, when anger like this would frighten you. Scare you so much it would have you running for the hills. Have you stumbling backward and out of the room, apologizing copiously for something you didn’t even do, all to avoid any kind of confrontation. But not anymore. 

Instead, you rushed towards him, stopping a foot away. You placed the reports on the edge of his desk, knowing you wouldn’t get to those anytime soon. Toe to toe with him now, you craned your neck to look him in the eyes. 

“I don’t give a damn what you think it looked like. I’m telling you what it was. Can you really be so delusional as to think I enjoyed that?” You asked incredulously.

He scoffed. “I didn’t hear you reject his offer.” His voice was dripping with bitterness. 

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You grimaced at the ludicrous nature of this conversation. “Hold on a minute, are you angry with me because you’re jealous?”

His eyes flashed at the accusation. His protectiveness had come out a handful of times in the months you had been together, but this wasn’t that. It was possessiveness loud and clear, and if you weren’t so mad at him for being mad at you, you’d think it was extremely hot. Let’s unpack that later, shall we?

His voice boomed across the room while he flailed his arms out from his chest, filling the space around you with tension. “I am no such thing. I would just prefer not to look like a complete and utter fool!”

He roared suddenly, the sound guttural and inhuman as he launched the reports off his desk, sending papers and folders scattering everywhere.

You jumped back at his outburst, not out of fear, something more like self preservation. You had just about had enough of this exchange. You had done nothing wrong and now you were being punished for it. You were the victim here. The more you thought about his words and actions, hurled at you with such ire, the more you knew something nasty would slip out of your mouth regrettably. So, you decided to close your eyes with a sigh and regroup.

“You’re upset with the wrong person. I’m not going to sit here and let you do this to me. I’m leaving. And don’t speak to me again unless it’s to apologize.”

With that, you spun on your heels and left. What you didn’t see, however, was Victor slumped over, his head in his hands as the door closed. He twitched severely, a slave to the command you gave him. 

***

You avoided Victor the rest of the day purposely, moving through the hallways of the center with caution. You didn’t want to see him, whether he was going to apologize or not. You felt a headache coming on at the base of your neck, creeping along your forehead and up to your scalp. Great, not just a regular headache then.

When your shift came to an end, you didn’t visit Victor’s office like usual. You packed up your things, slung your backpack over your shoulder, and headed out the doors. You passed your coworkers on the way, giving them half-hearted farewells. Your headache had gotten worse over the course of a few hours, now settling on one side of your face, radiating from your temple. You couldn’t wait to get home.

As you were pulling out of the parking lot, you saw a looming figure in the distance from your rear view mirror. Victor was standing at the top of the care center steps, watching as you left without saying goodbye.

***

The next morning, you woke up with an excruciating migraine. Nausea washed over you as you rolled over in bed, bile rising in your throat. Your eyes were sensitive to the light streaming in from behind the curtains of your window. You took a few deep breaths before sitting up gingerly. 

You grasped for your phone on your night stand. There was no way you were making it into work today. You noticed Victor hadn’t called or texted you last night either. He was always up during the late hours, never truly needing as much sleep as a typical human. He’s either leaving me be, or doesn’t know what to say.

You navigated to his number and started a text message. 

Hey, I won’t be in today. I don’t feel well.

His reply was immediate.

Alright. Do you need anything? -V

You couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face at his little signature. Such a boomer thing to do, even though he wasn’t one. 

No, I’ll be okay.

I’ll check on you later this evening. Please, feel better. -V

Thank you.

You fingers hovered over the letters, the urge to type I love you so strong it was almost automatic, but it didn’t feel right in the moment. Victor also hadn’t said it, which made you feel embarrassingly spiteful.

Your heart constricted sadly at the thought of your fight. Even though you were still furious with him, you missed him. You had spent nearly everyday together for months, even on weekends and before you were dating. This was a new feeling, and it felt like complete and utter shit. You could tell he was trying to give you space, and although you were grateful, it raked on your nerves. 

You grabbed an ice pack, some peppermint oil to rub on your temples, and flopped back into bed. Migraines were always so debilitating for you, so your only option was to hunker down and sleep it off. Hopefully, it wouldn’t last long and you could get back to work tomorrow. You fell asleep within a matter of minutes.

***

Several hours later, you woke up feeling better than expected. Your migraine had eased significantly, allowing you to get up and head downstairs. It was a little after 5 pm, the sun sinking low on the horizon. You realized Victor’s shift was over and wondered longingly if he’d call soon. 

You lounged on your couch and guzzled some much needed water, contemplating what to eat for dinner. Some of the nausea had subsided, but you still couldn’t eat anything heavy. 

The TV was playing low while you tipped your head back on the trim of the couch, your eyes closing appreciatively that your head didn’t feel like it was going to explode. The familiar sound of a motorcycle coming down your street had your ears pricking up. 

As you sat up and gazed out the window, you saw the silhouette of a rider pull up to your house through the curtains. The rumble of the engine was unmistakable. I know that bike.

You carefully made your way to the front door and swung it open. Victor was climbing off his sleek, black motorcycle and good God, was it a sight.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, hugging his biceps perfectly. The dark jeans he had on fit him snugly, his thighs straining the fabric at the seams. Brown cowboy boots adorned his feet and made him even taller than normal. Why does he always have to look so good?

He rummaged in the saddle bag and pulled out what looked like a bag of groceries and…flowers. Not just any flowers, your favorite. You glanced at your feet trying to hide your grin. 

He began to walk up your driveway and stopped short when he met your stare. His eyes scanned your form from head to toe. Your hair was exceptionally curly and framed your face. You were wearing a very oversized tee and recognition dawned on his face. It was Victor’s, the Wrenwood Reptile Expo shirt hanging on your figure like a dress, the collar conspicuously falling off your shoulder. It hit just above your knees and your feet were bare. He was dumbstruck, the only words bulldozing into his mind were gorgeous, exquisite, beautiful.

“Victor,” you wondered, “what are you doing here?”

He stood before you just out of reach and looked at you humbly. “I said I’d check on you. I didn’t believe a call or text would suffice. For many reasons.”

You tilted your head with a fond expression. “I’m glad you're here. Come in.”

He blew out a breath and looked positively relieved as he followed you inside. Victor had been to your tiny house before, but it was always a comical experience. He had to duck through your doorway and practically slouch from the height of your ceilings. He filled every room with his stature and presence, but he never seemed to mind. He fit into your life and your home more than you cared to admit.

You lead him to the kitchen where he handed you the flowers as he set down the grocery bag. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” you blushed, reaching for a vase on the counter, “they’re lovely.”

You could tell he was itching to touch you, kiss you, hug you, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure what to do or what was appropriate after the argument you had had. As sweet and charming as it was, you couldn’t give in just yet. You required more than just flattery.  

“You’re very welcome. I…we need to discuss what happened yesterday,” he breathed. 

“You’re right,” you paused. “Let’s sit.” You walked past him into the family room and sat on the couch, your hands in your lap. 

Victor made his way over and perched on the edge of the arm chair across from you. His elbows rested on his knees and his posture was rigid. His behavior wasn’t necessarily unusual, but suddenly you felt nervous. He wasn’t looking at you, and he always, always looked at you.

Minutes ticked by in silence and when he finally lifted his eyes, your discomfort melted away instantly. 

He spoke softly, slowly. “I am truly sorry for the way that I reacted. You did not deserve that in the slightest. You were correct, I was jealous. And I acted like an imbecile and a brute.”

You could tell he wasn’t finished, so you nodded your head encouragingly. 

“Zeno is my liaison with The Connections. He’s a ruthless henchman for their schemes, and clearly, we don’t get along. Whenever he visits, I always ensure that you are not there. In fear of something like yesterday occurring. He stopped by unannounced and when I saw him with you, I lost control.” 

Victor’s voice broke on the last word, and your resolve crumbled. You grabbed his hand and squeezed. You knew how much his self control meant to him, how carefully he tailored it to his persona. Always calm, gentle, collected. 

He gave you a grateful smile and continued. “This…parasite, Nemesis—it can manipulate me in ways I cannot foresee. Yesterday, it manifested as such. I should have taken it out on Zeno and not you. And I apologize profusely for not beating him within an inch of his life for touching you. Nothing like that will ever happen again.”

You chuckled at the way his voice dipped low into a growl. You stood swiftly and ambled over to him. He leaned back and allowed you in the space between his thighs. You arms circled his neck, the first time you touched him since he’d been here. His shoulders relaxed at once. 

“Victor,” you whispered. “I forgive you. Thank you for coming here and telling me. And for giving me space.”

He grabbed your hips and threw his arms around your back, hugging you tightly. His head fell to your chest as he nuzzled the exposed skin at your collarbone.

You smiled into his hair when his muffled reply came. 

“I was…worried that if I waited any longer, you would have…”

You frowned, confusion etched on your face. You pulled back and raised his heavy head with your hands. “I would have what?”

“Ended things. With me,” he murmured painfully. So much sorrow and anguish filled his gaze.

Oh.

You were taken aback by his assumption. “Victor, did you think I was going to break up with you over one single fight? Our first fight, mind you.”

His mouth opened to speak, but he seemed at a loss for words. 

You felt devastated for him, his wounded expression distinctly saying, yes.

You kissed him gently, letting your lips ghost over his as you said, “I love you. You’re my best friend. One argument isn’t going to change that.”

A low whimper passed his lips at the declaration, your reassurance clawing its way past his chest directly into his heart. Or what was left of it, anyway. His head was nodding slightly, whether to convince himself or you that he understood, you didn’t know. After a few moments of embracing each other, he spoke.

“I love you as well, more than words can describe. Although, I need to address a certain issue I have with you,” he scolded playfully. 

You laughed, happy to have him in good spirits again. “What did I do?”

“You’re a thief,” he grinned devilishly, “you stole my favorite shirt.”

You giggled and brushed your thumbs along his cheeks, glancing down at the thing. “It smells like you. I can’t get enough of it. You can always have it back later,” you said suggestively.

“Alright, I suppose you can keep it for now. It looks much better on you anyway,” he reasoned, a pleased look on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now.” You rolled your eyes at his smugness and said, “yes, you groveling at my feet helped for sure, but my migraine is mostly gone.”

“I suspected you were suffering from one. That’s why I brought sustenance,” he proclaimed. 

***

Victor had proceeded to make you dinner, a homemade chicken noodle soup that tasted heavenly and settled your stomach. A natural anti-inflammatory, he had said. 

You cleaned up the kitchen, much to his dismay, but you had insisted. While you were busy, he meandered through your home, eyes scanning all your little valuables, cataloging all the things that screamed you. He moseyed over to your wall of photographs and took a moment to study them. You with friends, pets over the years, family. Hiking some mountain, surfing at the beach.

And then there was a picture to his right, newly hung by the looks of it. A photo framed of you and him, a selfie, you had called it. You had both been in your lab gear, Victor’s goggles covering his face. He was sitting on a stool, you between his legs so you were relatively the same height. You had your arm slung around his shoulders and your face pressed up against his. Victor was merely smirking, but the radiant smile that was spread on your face could brighten a cloudy day. He chuckled fondly at the memory, an ache forming behind his breast bone at the thought of how much he cared for you.

“I love that picture. It’s my favorite,” you chirped from the archway. 

Victor swiveled his head to you with a tender expression, but concern soon followed when he glimpsed you wincing faintly. 

“Are you alright?” He asked anxiously as he hurried over. 

You massaged your temple as you said, “Yea, but I guess my migraine isn’t completely gone. I just felt another sharp pain.”

“You know,” he advised, sliding his hands around your waist, “I’m sure I could help alleviate some of the symptoms you’re experiencing.”

“Oh?” You laughed weakly. “Care to explain?” You splayed your hands up his wide chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your finger tips. 

“Well,” he leaned down to hover at the shell of your ear, his breathe making you shiver, “an orgasm triggers a release of endorphins, which are natural pain killers. They can stimulate dopamine and serotonin, which will most likely break the pain cycle.”

His voice was deceptively gentle, but raspy which made your core throb with need. Your lips brushed the side of his chin delicately, just below his ear. “Then let’s see what you can do for me, Dr. Gideon.”

Victor groaned low in his throat at the mention of his title coming from you. It always had a way of getting under his skin, twisting sensually through the parasite’s tendrils. It was primal and alluring and had his cock hard in an instant. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

He cupped your ass quickly, his big hands engulfing your supple flesh, and lifted you in his arms. His arousal was evident against your center, his thick shaft caught between your stomach and his. You kissed him with urgency, moaning at the feeling of his scarred and jagged mouth moving over yours. His forked tongue pushed past your lips and it felt like you were being devoured.

He raced up the stairs holding you closely to his body, the cool skin of his palms contrasting with your heated flesh. He was kneading the sides of your hips while spreading your pussy open provocatively with his fingers. Your scent filled his mouth and nose, flooding his senses so intensely, it made his steps falter. 

 Once you were in your room, he set you on the edge of the bed and pulled your shirt, his shirt, up and over your head in one smooth motion. You were bare before him, your nipples almost painfully hard and begging to be touched. 

“Please, baby. Make me feel better,” you pleaded.

Oh, he adored when you begged. Victor latched onto one of your breasts, fitting nearly the entire thing into his mouth while his hand massaged the other. A moan tore its way out of your throat, so needy and wanton. His forked tongue circled your nipple maddeningly as your arousal dampened the junction of your thighs.

He released you with a wet pop and grasped behind your knees to shove your legs into your chest, forcing your body to drop to the mattress. You giggled at the motion, your vision swimming with dizziness and want. The sound turned into a whimper when you felt Victor’s long tongue wholly cover your pussy and clit.

When you peeked at him kneeling between your legs, his yellow irises and deep red sclerae were burning with lust. He was growling, a feral sound mixed with his darkened gaze had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He pulled back a bit, much to your disappointment. 

“You’re mine.” His voice was like sin, gravelly and deep. “No one will ever have you like this except me. Do you understand?”

Heat rose to your cheeks and blazed over your skin at the authority in his voice. I was right, possessiveness is sexy. “Yes, yes I understand,” you breathed, wanting his mouth back on you. 

“Say it.”

“I’m yours!” You whined. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

“Good girl.” A large, thick finger slid into your center as he continued to lap at your folds. “Now come for me.”

Your pussy clenched fiercely around his digit, his praise and command sending your body into overdrive. It had you coming almost simultaneously. Light burst behind your eye lids at the severity of it, the strength of your orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your chest was heaving as you came down, and the realization that your migraine was gone had you grinning from ear to ear. The pressure in your head was gone, your eye sensitivity absent, and your nausea dissipated. 

You let out a long and contented sigh as you praised, “Thank you, doctor, that did the trick.” 

You glanced at Victor’s satisfied smirk with a faint blush. “I aim to please, my love. Now, move over.”

Surprise crossed your face, but you obliged. He climbed into your tiny bed and lay beside you, the frame straining under his mass. It was a queen, but seemed like a twin with him in it. His feet dangled off the side, but he just pulled you to his chest and rested his hand on your naked hip.

“Don’t you want to—” You questioned, reaching for his jeans. He stopped your hand gently, bringing it to his face to kiss the pulse point at your wrist. 

“Of course,” Victor answered. “But this was all for you. It wasn’t transactional by any means.”

You pulled him down for a slow, sweet kiss. “You’re mine, too. I don’t want anyone else. You know that, right?”

Victor is walking down the halls of the care center, making his way to your office after an absolutely mind-numbing meeting.

He passes by exam rooms and labs, but his mind is only on you. He hasn’t seen you all day, except for a brief rendezvous in the morning that included a quick kiss hello, a brush of fingertips, before you were both off to your duties.

It had grown busy at Rhodes Hill as of late, with budget increases allowing more doctors and staff to be hired. But with that came more patients, more research, and more stress.

You and Victor needed to spend time together, and soon. It was starting to wear on you both. That blissful afternoon in his office a week ago is an ever present memory that he wants a repeat of. And fortunately for you, he has the perfect idea. The thought had been brewing all day.

He’s rounding the corner at the end of the hall, closing in on your office. He can hear music coming through the open door, an eerily beautiful song playing from your phone. He can tell by the melody that you’re trying to unwind, your usually loud and eruptive rock music not on the menu today.

He pauses in the doorway and you’re so focused, you don’t even notice his approach. He steals the opportunity to observe you secretly.

You have your glasses on, the thin frames sitting low on the bridge of your nose as you pore over files and documents spread out on your desk. Your lab coat hangs on the back of your office chair, your shoulders bare in a tight, sleeveless turtleneck. Your hair is no longer up from the morning, the loose waves cascading down your back. A weary but concentrated look rests heavily on your face.

Even with the exhaustion weighing you down, Victor thinks you’re still the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.

He raps his knuckles on the door, breaking you out of your reverie.

“Avoiding me, my love?” He teases.

Your head swivels to him, and you give him a tired smile. “Never,” you say taking off your glasses, “I’m sorry, I was just busy and rushing around all day. My experiments kept yielding terrible results, my intern came in two hours late, and I cut my fucking hand—”

You raise your left hand, showing him a haphazardly placed bandage on your thumb.

“—so it’s just been a mess. I barely had a second to breathe.”

Victor straightens, concern written all over his face. His nostrils flare, the scent of your blood sending jolts of alarm through him. He hurries over and kneels by your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?”

He motions for your hand, gently grabbing it and removing the gauze. He inspects the wound with disapproval. The cut is small in length, but deep, blood still oozing from the opening.

“It’s not that bad, just a flesh wound,” you joke weakly. 

He frowns at you. “This will require stitches. What happened, (y/n)?”

You sigh defeatedly. “I was putting a beaker away, and I missed the shelf. It shattered in my hand.”

“You should have called for me. I would have taken care of this immediately.”

“You were in a meeting. I didn’t want to disturb you,” you mutter.

Victor scoffs. “I’ll drop whatever it is I am doing or working on, for you. No questions asked. Next time, do not hesitate to page me and I will come. Is that understood?”

His protectiveness and devotion make your insides melt. And the sternness in his voice has other parts of you burning. He’s still examining your injury with clinical attentiveness when you coo, “Yes, sir.”

His eyes shift to yours, heat and playfulness in his glare. You smile at him and peck him on the mouth. He hums against your lips lovingly. 

He stands, still holding your hand and rumbles, “Come with me, please. Let me tend to this.”

You stand from your desk, pushing back your chair. He leads you out of your office and to an empty patient room, never letting go of you. Lately, he’s been very adamant about when you two are sharing a space, you have to be touching in some way. Physical touch is clearly his love language.

He lifts you onto a gurney with little effort and proceeds to move around the room to gather supplies. He’s completely in his element and it’s sexy as hell when he’s like this. There isn’t anything he doesn’t do gracefully. He can command a room just by his presence alone.

You gaze at him openly. Victor’s wearing black slacks, polished dress shoes, and a burgundy button down today. You had told him a few weeks ago the color would contrast nicely with his skin. And it was also your favorite shade. He wore it every chance he got.

His back is to you as he searches through some cabinets, the fabric of his white lab coat stretching across his shoulders. His muscles ripple under the cloth, the sight making your mouth water.

When he turns around, he’s smirking. Of course he knew you were ogling him. He strides over to you, his long legs carrying him elegantly. He takes ahold of the small stool in the room and sits down. As he rolls over between your legs, you giggle at the image. Enormous man, meet tiny seat. Even though he’s practically on the floor, your eyes still meet evenly across the space.

There’s a small tray next to you where you rest your hand. He delicately begins to clean your wound, his ringed fingers moving over you artfully. You can’t get enough of his hands and the way they dwarf yours. The gray scales littering his flesh sometimes look iridescent under the harsh over head lights.

“You’re staring, darling,” Victor chuckles.

“I can’t help it when you look like that,” you gush, gesturing to him vaguely. 

He beams at you as he says, “I’m going to need you to be more specific. Elaborate, if you will.”

You could be cheeky or snarky, but your energy is zapped from today’s events and the week prior. To be honest, you feel a bit bratty all of a sudden. You miss Victor, your hand hurts, and you just want to go home. You don’t feel like explaining yourself.

All you can muster is, “You look really good, that’s all I meant.”

Your lack of a sarcastic quip has Victor looking up at you with worry, although the sentiment makes him stir. 

“I apologize, (y/n). I wasn’t trying to push,” he murmurs as he picks up the needle and nylon thread.

You cup his face with your right hand and stroke his skin appreciatively. “It’s okay. I’m just tired.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “Let’s get you patched up, shall we?”

Victor works methodically on your skin, tugging the stitches through the gash as carefully as possible. With one particular pinch, you hiss through your teeth and glance away. Tears prick at the corners of your vision. 

“Forgive me. I’m almost done, sweetheart.”

His kind words cause a few tears to spill over, running down your cheeks. He notices immediately and looks absolutely heartbroken.

“It’s not you. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, obviously. It’s been a long day,” you sniffle. You hang your head and wipe under your eyes pitifully. 

He finishes up dressing your wound and tucks your hair behind your ears, letting his hands linger on you face. “Come here,” he whispers. 

You throw yourself in his arms quickly and wrap yours around his neck. A hug is exactly what you need, but he already knew that. He always knows. Sometimes you believe Victor has a sixth sense when it comes to you.

More tears slip out as you breathe, “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You can feel him smile into your hair. “And I love you. You’re very welcome,” he answers. As you pull away he asks, “What are you doing on Saturday evening?”

A wet laugh escapes you. “Hanging out with you I hope from the sound of it.”

Victor chuckles deeply. “I’d like you to come to my home and I’ll cook you dinner. Have a nice night in. What do you say?” 

Excitement replaces your melancholy at the thought of spending time with him, especially at his house. You had never gotten the chance to visit, but after the week you’d had, this sounds like heaven on earth. You nod your head vigorously. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he grins.

***

When Saturday afternoon rolled around, you had gotten all your adulting out of the way by then, so you decided to get ready a bit early. 

You put on a spaghetti strap, cowl neck dress with cute little heels to match. You figure you should put your hair up in a low bun with strands framing your face so you can show off the hickey Victor gave you last week. You had covered it up for work, determining it was a bit unprofessional to parade around with it exposed. Especially when the director himself was the one who gave it to you.

You step up to your mirror and gaze at your reflection. You have to admit, you look devastatingly gorgeous. You spice up your outfit with some nice earrings, a necklace, and an anklet. You swipe a little mascara over your lashes for a final touch. He’s going to lose his mind when he sees me.

You take one last look at yourself and head downstairs. You gather your things quickly and race out the door to your car, eager to head to Victor’s place. The drive to his house on the care center’s property is only 20 minutes away thankfully. 

***

When you arrive, you park in his driveway, taking a deep breath to settle your nerves. You get out of your car with your belongings and make your way up to his front door. The house is very charming, with a pitched roof, a Tudor style trim, and ivy covered walls. Light is pouring from the windows and you hear soft jazz coming from within. 

Before you can knock, the door swings open with a flourish. Victor is standing there looking positively delectable. He’s got on his cowboy boots, leather pants, and a crisp navy button down. The buttons are only done half way up his chest, revealing his scar. 

You bite your lip as your eyes widen. When your eyes eventually get to Victor’s face, your breath catches in your throat. He’s staring at you so intensely it feels like you’ll burst into flames. He’s smiling deviously, his eyes zeroing in on the hickey on full display.

“Good evening, my dear. You look divine.”

You blush prettily at the way his voice dips low. “Hello, handsome,” you purr as you crook your finger signaling him to come closer.

He obliges, leaning down over you as you kiss him slowly on the lips. Even with your heels on, he towers over you, the top of your head just under his chest. His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you inside. You laugh heartily at his antics, letting him push you up against the now closed door. Your one hand is still conspicuously behind your back and it piques his interest.

“What are you hiding back there, I wonder?” He mumbles, trailing kisses down your shoulder. His mouth isn’t enough to distract you from your enthusiasm to give him his gift, so you lightly tap his shoulder. He raises to his full height, curiosity blooming on his features.

You untuck your arm and bring your hand out in front of you. A small black box with a silver bow sits in your palm. “This is for you,” you smile shyly. 

For a moment he seems stunned. “For me?”

“Yes,” you reply. “It reminded me of you. I think it will go well with your collection.”

You can barely hear him as he mutters under his breath, “No one’s every given me a gift before.” Shock pulses through you at the confession, but that’s a discussion for another time. He’s still eyeing the box like it’s the answer to every question he’s ever had. 

“Well, are you going to open it, mister?” you whisper playfully. 

He glances at your face and finally reaches for it. He takes off the lid, his fingers shaking uncharacteristically. Inside is a necklace with a small emerald pendant, set in a tiny silver snake that cradles the stone. He swallows thickly, picking up the chain to inspect it in the light. When he looks back at you, pure love shines in his eyes. 

“Will you put it on me, please?”

“Of course.” You take the necklace from him and motion for him to turn around. He obeys and you reach up to lay it around his neck. You clasp it and smooth your hands across his shoulders. 

He spins and it takes everything in you not to swoon. The green of the crystal compliments his yellow eyes, brightening them. The pendant lays right between his collar bones. It fits him perfectly. With all his snake rings and clothes, he needed something like this. You’re smiling up at him when he grabs you suddenly, almost desperate. 

“Thank you, (y/n). Thank you,” he says over and over between kisses. 

***

The house smells of lavender and something entirely Victor. Whiskey and cigars. Rain and earth. Wood and candles. Like home. 

He wanders into the kitchen to check on dinner while you explore. The interior is classy, with high ceilings and big windows. Polished hardwood floors and large carpets fill the rooms. There’s an archway leading into the dining area. Bookshelves line the walls surrounding the living room with hundreds of books neatly stacked in alphabetical order. It’s all very sophisticated and posh, but not in a pretentious way. The atmosphere is warm and lived-in. You love it immediately.

“I’m obsessed with your house,” you profess. 

Your fingers are hovering over a collection of first edition encyclopedias when Victor calls from the kitchen, “Would you like a tour?”

“Definitely!” you exclaim as you whirl around. You see him cock his arms and undo the buttons at his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. What is it about seeing a man’s forearms that is so unnecessarily hot?

You’re basically drooling when he rounds the island and clasps your hand as he leads you down the hallway. “Come with me. We’ll start over here.”

The first room he takes you to is his home office. It's full of mahogany furniture and a plush leather chair. Medical textbooks are scattered across the desk and coffee table. A giant globe sits in the corner. It’s giving college professor and an image of him bending you over the wood and fu—

“Holy shit, is that a snake?” You gasp at the large tank in the back. You rush over to peer inside. Sure enough, a boa constrictor lounges on a makeshift log spanning the glass. “You never told me you have a pet snake!”

Victor gives you a sheepish look and confesses, “I only recently purchased her. I was going to tell you eventually, but with work becoming so busy, there wasn’t time. I figured you would make her acquaintance today. Artemis is her name.” 

“Greek goddess of wild animals and the hunt. Very fitting,” you chirp. 

Victor is clearly pleased with your interpretation. “You know your mythology.”

You throw him a grin and ask, “May I pet her?”

“You may hold her, if you like.” Elation instantly lights your face and Victor’s heart stutters behind his rib cage. You never could hide your emotions well and it’s a blessing in this case. It makes him proud. 

“Oh my god, yes please!” You say as you clap your hands together.

He makes his way over and lifts the lid, pulling out the snake carefully and placing her around your shoulders. She’s smooth and cold to the touch, the weight of her sagging your body slightly. Her scale pattern is all greens and grays, matching your dress. Her head pivots to you and her tongue darts out just shy of your nose. You giggle at the near contact. 

You hear the distinct sound of a shutter, and catch Victor taking a picture of you with his phone. “Hey! I wasn’t looking,” you pout.

“I prefer candids,” he declares happily. 

Once Artemis is back in her tank, he guides you to a larger room with a fireplace and a floor to ceiling window over looking the grounds and gardens of the property. It’s your favorite room at once. 

You move through the space, taking your time. There’s a love seat against the wall, a wet bar off to the side, and a piano near the center of the room. You wonder out loud, “I didn’t know you played.”

Victor shakes his head. “I do not. It…was my mother’s. I didn’t have the heart to rid myself of it after she passed.”

He had told you about his family long ago. How his father was a cold, cynical man that never really gave him the time of day. How his mother was quiet and reserved, like him, but always threw her self into work. Also like him. But they had shared a love of science that always kept them connected. When she died, Victor and his father could never bridge the gap that she left. He died soon after Victor received his degree. It was a sad story to say the least. 

“Would you mind terribly if I played it?” You inquire, hoping it’s not an imposition.

Your question brings him out of a daydream. He blinks rapidly as he says, “I wouldn’t, not at all. I was under the impression that you only played the guitar.”

You scoff at him teasingly. “Guitar is my favorite, but I learned the piano first.”

You position yourself on the bench, lining up your fingers with the keys and stretching your feet to the pedals. You play a few scales, the piano surprisingly still in tune. You hum, satisfied with the sound as you start to play your favorite classical piece. You know it by heart after all.

The rich timbre comes to life from beneath your finger tips. Your hands glide over the keys effortlessly as you let the melody consume you. The tone is dark and rich, reminding you of the man to your left. Victor is studying you with blatant awe, his eyes sweeping over your form from head to toe. An ache settles in his chest as he watches you play so beautifully, so relaxed. He can’t help but kneel beside you and place a kiss to your cheek. 

Your song comes to an end and you tilt your head into his. “What did you think?” 

“I think…my mother would have loved you,” he proclaims in your ear. Your eyes find his and for a second, you want to freeze time and never leave this moment. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You tip forward and press your lips to his.

***

The tour doesn’t take long and dinner is ready by the time you make your way back to the kitchen. Victor tells you to make yourself comfortable at the table while he serves you. When he joins you, you feel so fortunate, so happy, that this is your life. 

You make small talk while you eat, Victor going over his day and asking about yours. He checks on your thumb, making sure it’s healing properly. You rave about the food and laugh at the smugness on his face. It’s all very natural and domestic that you realize you’ve never felt this secure and safe before. All because of him.

When you both finish your meals and retire to the den, he sits in one of the arm chairs across from the bookshelves while you peruse. You toe off your heels, the dreadful things killing your feet, to walk on the plush carpet below. As always, Victor is watching your every move. He loves seeing you in his space and wants you in it more often. He starts to imagine mornings with you, days spent outside in the sun reading, curling up on the couch together after a long day. You in his bed, your hair sprawled out on his pillow, underneath him. 

Your back is to him, and you’re casually bent over reading some titles aloud on the middle shelf. Your ass looks incredible in your dress, the skirt framing it and accentuating your curves. His pants are growing painfully tight by the minute just from eyeing you alone. 

Unaware of his inner thoughts, you spin at the sound of a lighter. He’s got a cigar to his lips, puffing on the end a few times for it to catch. The smell reaches your nose when he lets out an exaggerated breath. You notice his eyes, golden from the shine of the end table lamp, are darkening with desire. A shiver runs through you, hardening your nipples. You’re not wearing a bra, so the feeling of your skin shifting against the fabric has you suppressing a gasp. 

Victor’s gaze snaps to your chest and his fingers tighten faintly on the cigar. With a flick of his wrist, he offers it to you. You saunter over and reach for it, only for him to move it out of your grasp. You quirk your eyebrow at him questioningly. His only answer is patting his thigh with his other hand, two short taps.

“You are incorrigible, Dr. Gideon,” you sass as you climb into his lap with ease, your legs straddling his while your hemline rises dangerously close to exposing you. His hand rest on your ass cheek engulfing it, giving it a tight squeeze which pulls you further into him. 

Your hands come to the sides of his face, your nails sliding over his scalp through his graying hair, all the way down the length to his nape. The strands are soft and thin as you twirl them around your fingers. You trace his features, letting your thumbs skim over his pronounced brow bone and nose. He sighs greedily at the feeling, the rumble starting low in his chest and moving up to his throat.

You snatch the cigar out of Victor’s hand and take a long drag, the smoke filling your mouth causing a heady sensation to take over you. You lean forward and grasp his chin. He smiles devilishly and opens his mouth. You languidly blow the smoke out, letting it cascade over your lips into his. The act is so intimate, a fresh wave of arousal shoots directly to your core. His forked tongue darts out and confused curiosity at how strong the taste is washes over his features. You smirk at the way his hand slithers to your front, under your dress to stroke at your center. When he finds no barrier there, he groans loudly. “You’ve been bare this entire time?”

You nod your head leisurely and give him a confident smile. “I didn’t think I’d be in them very long anyway, so why not.”

“And I’m the incorrigible one?” He clarifies as he licks at the sensitive skin of your hickey. A gasp pops out of you from his cold tongue smoothing over the still healing flesh. You’re starting to feel intoxicated.

“Victor…”

He rears back to look into your eyes at your pleading tone.

“I want you,” you whisper. “All of you. Right now.”

The implication isn’t lost on him. You still hadn’t had sex yet, but from your words and the open trust pouring from you, he knows what you mean. His mouth crashes to yours in a desperate attempt to convey his feelings on the matter, that he agrees fully. You kiss him back in kind, biting his bottom lip and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He sucks at the invasion, earning a high pitched moan from you.

He stands gracefully with you in his arms, your legs crossing at the ankles behind his back, his hands wrapped around your thighs to support you. Your lips never leave each other as he bounds down the hallway and up the stairs to his bedroom. He’s stumbling into the wall and tripping up the steps, all while you laugh against his mouth, clawing at his back and hair. He chuckles at the absurdity of it all, because he can’t believe he gets to have you. 

When you make it to his room, he places you gently on the edge of the bed. Of course it’s a California king, the giant thing taking up half the space in here. I can’t even imagine what he would look like laying in my queen size bed. A giggle bursts from you at the image, his long legs hanging off the end, the frame straining under his weight.

“Something amusing?” Victor purrs at you from his position on the floor, kneeling before you. 

It’s a sight that never ceases to make you wet, the heat of your arousal pooling at the junction of your hips. The sensation makes your thighs clench involuntarily. That simply won’t do for him however, so he grabs your knees and slowly spreads your legs. You’re aching for him and his mouth when he shoves your dress up to reveal your core.

“No,” you breathe as you release the bun from behind your neck, “I just like it when you worship me.”

His smile is positively wicked and in a flash, his tongue is on you, your pussy quivering already at the feeling. You flop back onto the mattress with a moan as your fingers twist in the sheets. His tongue assaults your clit, the forked ends swirling around it. He slips a thick finger inside you and massages your walls. 

You’ve been intimate now with him for almost a month, but sometimes it feels like you’ve been together for an eternity. He knows your body so well and before you know it, the start of your orgasm is blooming within you. The spark blazes over your skin, the surface breaking out into a sweat, the heat in your body almost overwhelming.

You’re whining now, praising him over and over. “Fuck, Victor, please keep going.”

The sound of his name on your lips like that triggers a visceral growl to come out of him, the vibration completely consuming your pussy. You come with a shout, your words unintelligible as the spasms pulse through you. Your limbs feel heavy from your release. 

You’re still reeling from the orgasm when Victor grips the bottom of your dress and slides it up and over your head. Your eyes snap open when you realize he’s starting to undress. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch hungrily.

He grabs his shirt from behind his head and yanks it off, his chest now on full display. The scales, the scar, everything is hauntingly beautiful on him. He kicks off his boots and moves to his belt. He makes quick work of his pants and boxers, now bare standing at the foot of the bed. 

In your lust-filled haze, you blurt out, “You really are magnificent.”

His arms, shoulders, and chest are cut, the lean muscles wrapping around him deliciously. His powerful legs are long and thick, his massive thighs bulging under the skin. And his cock. The size of it makes you blush. The girth alone will split you in two. You’re no virgin by any means, but one orgasm isn’t going to cut it unfortunately. 

He scoots you up the bed and cradles your body against his. He’s looming over you, caressing your face when he says, “I’m going to make you come again so you can take me without any pain. I don’t want your first time with me to be uncomfortable.”

No, seriously this time. He can read my mind.

He’s so goddamn sweet and you agree, so he lays his palm on your stomach. His middle finger brushes over you and glides over your opening. He gathers the wetness from your previous release and begins stroking your clit in slow circles. It’s dizzying and it’s torture and you love every second of it. You cry out at a particularly sensual touch, the press of the pad of his thumb now on you. 

A needy whimper breaks free from your mouth which Victor swallows with a kiss. You’re coming again, waves of pleasure crashing down over you suddenly, your hips bucking up into his hand. 

You continue to kiss him lazily, but hook your leg through his. He’s distracted, and while the action isn’t necessarily discreet, it gives you the leverage you need. You push with all your strength and roll your bodies, flipping him onto his back. You let out a triumphant cheer.

He roars with laughter, disbelief twisting his face. “How on earth did you accomplish that?”

“Honestly,” you admit, “I have no idea. I just know I need to be on top for this.”

He’s still laughing as he nods.

This is how it should be. Fun. Easy. No expectations.

You can tell he thinks this, too. There’s a long pause, the two of you just staring at each other for a moment. The corners of his mouth quirk up and you smile. 

You slide down his waist to grasp his cock in your hand. You give him a few strokes just to see his eyes flutter shut. He moans lowly, the sound like grating steel. You lift up your hips and guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto to him easily enough, the stretch causing a second of pressure before you’re fully seated on him. I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow. His fingers are digging into your skin and his jaw is clenched. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he pants.

You’ve never heard him curse. The sound of it leaving his normally composed self has you feeling feral above him. You experimentally rock your hips back and forth, the drag of his huge cock inside you sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. You keep moving, your moans and Victor’s mixing together. It feels so good, him filling you completely, you lose track of where you end and he begins. 

He’s grabbing at your chest, massaging your breasts and flicking your nipples, rolling them under his thumbs. You’re dragging your nails down his long scar, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. It’s all very exhilarating, too much and not enough at the same time. 

You feel like you’re on fire as you sputter, “Baby, you feel so good.”

The pet name drives him wild and his hand moves to your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip asking for permission. You open your mouth and suck the digit inside. You’re rocking faster over him now, your moans turning to pants and cries and whines. 

Maybe it’s the euphoria or the look of pure, unadulterated adoration in Victor’s eyes, but something makes you take his other hand and wrap it around your throat. His fingers encase your entire neck. 

His eyes go black with desire. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly and your walls immediately start to flutter. And so the dam breaks.

Victor rolls on top of you switching your positions. His hand still encompasses your throat and he’s pounding into you recklessly, like an animal finally escaping it’s cage. The sight of him above you losing control and the necklace you got him swinging over your face is so unbelievably erotic your pussy spasms around his cock. Your juices flood your system and spill out onto the sheets, your orgasm shattering you to pieces. 

He follows soon after, his cum spilling into you with the sporadic movements of his hips. He’s yelling your name like a prayer, so thunderous you think it might break the windows in the room. 

You’re panting heavily while his forehead rests on your shoulder. He’s keeping his weight off of you as best he can, but honestly, being crushed by him would be a stellar way to go. You would die a happy woman for sure. 

You wince as Victor slips out of you, the sudden loss making you feel empty. He flops down beside you with a huff. Wordlessly, he brings you to his chest, hugging you closely. Your noses are touching.

His whisper breaks the silence. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His fingers ghost over your neck. 

“No,” you reassure him with a smile, “it was perfect. You were perfect.” You snuggle up to him and close your eyes. “It was everything I wanted it to be. All of it.”

“I love you, (y/n),” he rasps out. 

“I love you, too.”

***

You’re not sure when you wake up, but it’s dark outside, the moon casting light into the room. You’re still chest to chest with Victor and he’s snoring softly. You start to untangle yourself from him when he wakes. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks groggily, tightening his hold on you. His voice is even deeper with sleep, and a familiar burn creeps its way down your stomach.

“I just have to clean up. I’ll be right back, I promise,” you coo.

Victor reluctantly lets you go. “You better.” He’s surprisingly pouty when he’s sleepy, something that tugs at your heart strings. 

When you come back, he’s under the covers waiting for you, his yellow eyes flashing in the darkness. Fucking predator, you think fondly. 

You ease into the bed and swing your arm and leg over him, kissing him gently. “Is it okay if I stay the night?”

He murmurs against your lips, “I’d like you to stay forever.”

After your first date with Victor, you found yourself riding a high for days. 

It was so romantic, sexy, and sweet. The thoughts of it would wander into your mind at random times, making you smile to yourself. You loved every minute of it. 

When you returned to the care center that night, he had kissed you so tenderly goodbye, it was hard to pull away. 

You hadn’t gone on another date since, but you both found every opportunity to spend time together. In the lab, in his office, in your office.

On one particular day, Victor had been approaching you in the hallway. His goggles were off, which he had become more comfortable with after your date. It didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, letting patients and staff see his face. His growing confidence was such a turn on.

He had been wearing his usual work attire, a lab coat and suit. But something about him being in all black did something to you. Tall, dark, and handsome was an understatement. 

You had grabbed his hand tightly, yanked him into an alcove, and launched yourself at him. You had felt like a wild woman, pulling at his tie for more access, locking your lips with his. Needless to say, he had enjoyed it very much. 

You had fooled around a bit more on occasion, but hadn’t slept together yet. You wanted things to progress naturally and it had felt good to go slowly. 

You hadn’t brought up the L word either, but it almost slipped out once or twice. You weren’t sure if it was too soon.

Two weeks after the meteor shower, you’re in his office, sitting on his plush leather couch with your feet up on the coffee table. 

You have Victor’s goggles on, fiddling with the controls. You’re scanning the room, switching through the lenses. 

It reminds you of what it felt like getting a new toy on Christmas morning. You are a scientist after all, this type of shit always intrigued you. It makes you laugh quietly to yourself as you ooh and aah at the changes in your vision.

He’s at his desk, filling out some paperwork when you hear him chuckle under his breath.

“What are you laughing at over there, mister?” You say, as your head snaps to his, the goggles nearly falling off your face. 

“It’s very amusing listening to you,” Victor rumbles with a smirk.

You smile at the way he’s looking at you as you exclaim, “These goggles are just incredible! And you made these yourself?”

He’s leaning on his desk with an elbow, his cheek resting on a closed fist. “Yes, their design is quite simple really.”

You scoff at him. “Do you have a secret mechanical engineering degree I don’t know about?”

You had always been aware of his genius level intellect, but sometimes it made you wonder, do I even know the half of it?

Victor smiles attentively. “No, I just needed to adapt is all. It aids in my research. It makes examinations much more efficient.”

Now that gives you an idea. 

“Interesting,” you say, a devilish grin spreading on your lips. “How about you come over here and let me examine you?”

He answers with a lascivious look. “I’ll gladly be your subject, Dr. (y/l/n),” he mutters mischievously.

He places his big hands on his desk and slowly rises. He stalks over to you, the sounds of his measured steps in time with your pounding heart.

You never thought being with Victor would elicit such a primal reaction out of you, but his size alone has you wanting to get down on all fours and bark.  

You vacate the couch, letting him take your place. He descends on the cushions, never taking his eyes off you.

You’re standing between his thighs when he reclines, tilting his head curiously. 

“So, Dr. Gideon, are you ready to begin?”

You know how much he loves hearing his name from your lips. His only response is the quirk of his brows and the flick of his forked tongue. 

You know there are three lenses on the goggles: green for night vision, red for thermography, and blue for radiography. You switch to the red one and his body is cast in an infrared glow. There’s a scale of color to the left, indicating what temperature coincides with what shade or hue. 

Because he’s cold blooded, the imaging barely picks him up, almost as if he’s invisible. You see purples and blues radiating along his limbs, but no reds, yellows, or greens like a typical human. His core is a dark orange, the warmest part of him.  

Victor’s observing you closely, watching every twitch of your mouth, every sweep of your head. 

You have to hold the headpiece up with one hand while the other controls the lenses, considering Victor’s head is twice the size of yours. He thinks it’s positively adorable, the giant thing dwarfing your face. 

You look so nerdy and cute, it sparks something in his chest. Knowing the goggles are his, something he created, makes him feel oddly possessive and prideful seeing you use them. It’s like you’re wearing one of his shirts. The image has him shifting in his seat, his pants growing tight at his groin.

You notice his reaction immediately and try not to grin. You switch to the blue lens, the gears clicking at your eye. Suddenly, the light transfers and you can see his skeleton, the X-ray vision providing you with a clear view of his entire skeletal form from head to toe.

“Woah.”

“Woah?” He asks incredulously. “That’s not very scientific of you, doctor.”

You know he’s messing with you, but your sarcasm slips out when you say, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me rephrase. What incredible bone structure you have! I’ll have to probe further.”

He reaches for you quickly, but you dance out of his grasp with a squeal. You can see his vitals to the right and his heart beat is rising. You take the headset off and place it on the end table next to the couch. You back up a few paces until your back bumps into his desk. And so the chase begins.

You’re laughing out right now while Victor rests his elbows on his knees, planning his next move. He growls playfully at you, showing you his gold teeth. His yellow eyes look amber in the afternoon light coming through the windows, the blood red of his sclerae blooming to the surface. He really is beautiful. 

“You’re very lucky you got away,” he says, his voice husky. 

“Lucky? That’s not very scientific of you, doctor,” you echo.

For a moment his resolve breaks, and he barks out a laugh. He can’t seem to stop, and it has you hypnotized. You had never truly heard him laugh out loud ever, just chuckles and snickers here and there. 

You absolutely love the sound. You’re wondering how to get him to do it again when he stops suddenly and launches himself off the couch after you. 

You scream as you bolt around his desk, grasping at the leather of his office chair. 

Victor stands on the opposite side facing you and for a second, you ponder if he could just kick his leg over the wood like one would step over a log in their path.

Instead he lays his hands on the surface, leaning towards you. He’s bent down so low, his brows hang over his eyes. He looks terribly menacing, especially with a lively smile on his face. 

You’re giggling uncontrollably, not sure what to do next. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when and how he catches you. You just have to bide your time. 

“Do you truly believe you’ll be able to outrun me?” Victor murmurs confidently. 

“Please, I have you right where I want you.”

He gives you a look like, now I know that’s not true. He glances at the junction of your thighs pointedly. 

While he’s distracted, you dart to your left making a run for it. 

He’s thrown off and stumbles after you, only for you to spin and head the other way.

You race across the room behind a couch when he clutches the back of the sofa and vaults, his giant legs swinging gracefully over. 

This is probably how the mouse feels before the snake strikes.

He lands expertly next you and scoops you up, your breath escaping you with a whoosh. 

You can’t stop the joyous laughter that explodes out of you at the silliness of it all. You know these moments with Victor, so carefree and fun, mean everything to you. You decide then, when his arms are wrapped around you and he’s holding you close, that you’ll tell him. 

He carries you to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap. Your hands are around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. 

“I hate to say this aligns with my previous assessment, but—”

“I let you catch me,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles as you push forward and press your lips to his. You kiss him gently, angling your head to slip your tongue over the split in his bottom lip. He groans deeply at the touch, grasping at your hip and back.

You sit back on his thighs with a coy expression on your face. It’s time.

Victor cocks his head, inquisitiveness carving his features.

“What is it?” He asks. 

Be brave.

“I have something to tell you,” you begin slowly. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a long time, even before our first date. I don’t just want to be your friend and lover. I want to be with you.”

Victor closes his eyes briefly at your confession. When he opens them again, they are filled with so much warmth and affection, you just about sigh in relief. 

“Oh, (y/n).” He grabs your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the swells of your cheeks. “I’m in love with you as well. I…didn’t believe it was possible for me to feel this way. But you made it a reality. I want us to be together.”

Your heart soars in your chest at his statement. Now it’s your turn to close your eyes, the swell of emotion making you light-headed with excitement and tenderness. 

You lean forward and touch your nose to Victor’s, nuzzling him, words failing you at the moment. 

He practically whimpers at the contact and you kiss him again. You bite at each others lips, licking and sucking each other sensually. His mouth moves across your jaw, running his tongue along your smooth skin. He latches onto your neck just below your ear and sucks. A thrill shoots through you at the thought of him marking you. The moan you release is loud in the quiet room. 

With your mouth next to his ear, you purr, “I want to taste you.” His grip on you falters as you repeat his words from that first night. 

Which he delivered on, many times, since then. But you want him at your mercy for a change. 

His eyes lock on yours, his pupils nearly swallowing the yellow of his irises. “Yes, please. Anything you want. I’m yours.”

You climb off of him and kneel down between his legs. Your hands rest on his knees, kneading the insides of his thighs with your thumbs. The motion makes his fists clench in the fabric below him.

You slide your fingers over his slacks, all the way up to his belt. You unbuckle it, pulling it through his belt loops swiftly. His breaths are coming out slowly and evenly, but you can tell he’s losing the battle to stay calm.

Even though you’re on your knees before him, there’s a sense of power that overwhelms you. The position might scream submissive, but Victor has never made you feel that way. That’s what you like about your relationship. You're equals. And that is very attractive to you. 

Your fingers deftly undo the button of his pants and drag your knuckles down his clothed cock as you pull the zipper. He inhales quickly, eyes fluttering shut with a jerk of his head.

You slip into the waistband of his slacks and boxers on his sides, signaling for him to lift his hips. Victor follows your silent command and raises up so you can pull his clothes down enough to free him. 

You’ve seen his cock before, but never up close and personal. He’s massive to say the least. He’s wider at the base, his scar splitting him down the middle. The head is swollen, leaking already. And he’s extremely hard. Will I even be able to fit him in my mouth? Or anywhere else?

You’re not one to give up so easily and determination grows on your face. You wrap your hand around him, your fingers not even reaching half way around. You peek at Victor to note his reaction. Something primal has taken over his features so you stroke him once. His hips buck into your hand and he moans sharply. 

“I’m going to have my way with you,” you breathe seductively.

His eyes widen slightly before you lean forward and take his cock into your mouth. His hand flies to your hair, tangling in the strands and pulling softly. He hisses your name when you start to move down, swallowing as much of him as you can. You get about halfway and stop, your hand winding around his base, your jaw practically aching already.

You set an agonizing pace, sliding your mouth up and down his length while your hand twists and squeezes.

You whine at the taste of him, the muskiness coating your tongue, making your panties flood with wetness and your pussy clench.

Victor’s watching you, enamored, groaning at the sensation of your hot mouth and hands. Your sounds are vibrating through his cock, the look of your head bobbing up and down so erotic he feels his orgasm ignite at the base of his spine. 

“My love, I’m going to come,” he whispers, lightly tugging at your hair to release him.

You deliberately shake your head, wanting him to finish in your mouth. You swirl your tongue over and around his head and it’s his undoing.

Victor roars with his release, his seed pouring into you, filling your mouth to the brim. He tastes smoky with a hint of saltiness, and without even thinking, you swallow, devouring every last drop he gives you. He realizes what you’ve done and growls thoroughly, the primitiveness in him deeply satisfied.

You release him with a wet pop, licking your lips and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

He picks you up unexpectedly and deposits you on his lap once more. 

“That was…incredible,” he pants. He kisses you sweetly, tasting himself on your lips. It makes him press you tighter to him, not wanting to let you go just yet. “You need to have your way with me more often.”

It had been a pretty easy day at the care center. 

You’re winding down in the lab alone when one of your favorite songs starts to play from the small speaker you keep in the corner of the room.

It’s an indie pop song with an explosive beat that has you smiling. 

Under the moonlight

The eve of November

I saw your bright eyes

Glowing like embers

It reminds you of a certain someone, probably lurking the halls this very minute. You can almost hear his slow, deliberate footsteps making his way to you. He always came to check in at the end of the day.

I can’t sleep after sundown

That's when your memory comes out

Chasin' me down like a killer

You’re standing at one of the counters, looking over some notes. You start singing along, banging your head to the rhythm. You can’t stop the tap of your foot, the swaying of your hips.

Who's there? Somebody's knockin'

Runnin’ me down like a thriller

No, I can’t shake the, I can't shake the shivers

You get lost in the feeling. Music always had that effect on you. Soon you’re letting your voice carry in the room, moving your body and spinning around towards the door.

Yeah, you’d think I'd seen a ghost

The way I turned around and froze

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shout, startled, as you see Dr. Victor Gideon standing there, leaning against the doorframe. He’s watching you closely, the whirring of his goggles giving him away. There’s a goofy grin on his face, like he’s mesmerized. 

How long has he been there?

“You should wear a bell, you know,” you scold, giving him an annoyed look, your hand over your racing heart. For a large man, Victor’s deceptively quiet. He loves to sneak up on you.

Oh, I was caught up in your crooked smile, paralyzed, feelin' that body

Wishin' that you would put it on me 

He’s wearing dark blue slacks and a white button down today. His pristine white lab coat stretching across those wide, delicious shoulders. His tie is patterned with what looks like alligator skin. As charming and eccentric as always.

“Where’s the fun in that? I believe I heard you say once you like surprises.” Victor says as he makes his way over to you.

“Very funny,” you murmur playfully, sticking out your tongue. 

He chuckles low in his throat, the rumble of it making you blush slightly. 

He sits down on one of the stools next to your station and turns to face you. You love when he does this. Even though his hulking form is incredibly alluring, it’s nice to be able to gaze at his face at eye level. 

Victor rubs his hands down his thighs in what looks like an anxious gesture. Is he nervous?

“Speaking of surprises, I have something I’d like to ask you. Would you be interested in accompanying me on a small adventure? Specifically, tomorrow evening,” he says quietly, not quite looking directly at you.

Is he asking me out on a date? He’s asking me out on a date!

You try your best to school your features into a calm expression, but a grin spreads across your lips.

His shy demeanor is beyond adorable, and you find yourself saying, “I’d love to. That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Victor’s head snaps to yours so fast, his goggles shift on his face. “Truly?”

“Of course. As long as I get to spend time with you.”

You and he were fast friends when you starting working together, bonding over science, music, books. Over the course of a year, that friendship transformed into secret heated glances, late night deep conversations, and touches that lingered a little longer than usual. 

You knew you were falling for him, but he was your colleague. You didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship. Losing him would be far worse than never having him at all. But you had always wondered if he felt the same.

Victor’s face lights up at your declaration. “Alright, after our shift ends tomorrow evening, we’ll make our way. There’s also no need to dress formally, something casual and warm is best.”

Now you were extremely curious. What on earth did he have planned?

***

The next day went by in a blur. Between your lab work and thoughts of Victor, your concentration was fried. You hadn’t been this excited in a very long time. 

After dinner, you’d practically sprinted to the locker room. You fluffed your hair a bit, shaking it back and forth to get your waves to cooperate. Your usual pant suit and Chelsea boots were traded for jeans, a white t-shirt, chunky black boots, and a brown leather jacket. Victor had said warm was the way to go, so you threw on a beanie.

You had gotten a text from Victor saying to meet him out front as you were lacing up your shoes. 

You’re striding towards the front door, pushing it open as the cool air of the night rushes past, when you freeze at the top of the steps. 

Oh my fucking god.

Victor’s no longer in his work clothes. 

Your eyes linger on his goggle clad face for a second, then slowly, very slowly slide down his form.

He’s wearing a long snake skin jacket, the length brushing his calves. His chest is adorned with a brown leather vest with nothing underneath. You can see the scar that bisects him on full display. Leather pants hug his massive thighs leaving little to the imagination. He’s donning cowboy boots, small silver chains disappearing under the heels. His thumbs are tucked into his pockets, his fingers full of intricate rings. 

And he’s leaning against a motorcycle. One foot kicked over the other. 

I think I'm going to pass out.

There’s blood rushing in your ears, and the only thing your mind allows you to think is HOT HOT HOT HOT HO—

“Ready to go?” Victor rasps. He smirking at you now like he knows your thoughts. But there’s hunger in his gaze too, even if you can’t see his eyes. You have the same effect on him. 

Arousal burns through you like fire, searing your insides. You attempt a cheeky response but all that comes out is a husky “yes.”

You carefully climb down the stairs which lands you right in front of Victor. His forked tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he inhales slowly. 

He can smell you, you idiot! It takes everything in you not to giggle. He shifts forward off the bike and takes a step closer. 

You tip your head back to look at him, and heat instantly rises to your cheeks. You glance back down with a shy smile, feeling like a sixteen year old again. He places his finger under your chin and lifts your face, his thumb brushing just under your bottom lip.

“You’re beautiful.” Not you look beautiful. You are beautiful. The sentiment makes you weak in the knees. 

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, doctor.”

You can just about hear the roll of his eyes, but it earns you a flash of gold teeth. 

Victor steps aside, allowing you space to step up to his motorcycle. 

“Is this the surprise?” You ask excitedly. 

“One of many,” he breathes over your shoulder. The sound of his voice makes you shiver. 

He swings his leg over the bike, straddling the cushion, his big left hand grasping the brake. 

I wish I could take a picture of him right now. For…reasons. 

“Hop on.” He says, patting the lead seat.

“Wait, what?” You stutter. “Aren’t I supposed to go on the back?”

“It will be much safer with you up front. You’ll be able to reach the handlebars and have better stability with me behind you,” he says matter-of-factly. 

Uh huh.

The bike reaches your mid chest. It would be like trying to mount a horse. You look to Victor helplessly when he suddenly grabs your waist and lifts you effortlessly. You let out a girlish squeal to his delight. 

When he places you between his thighs, your back to his chest, you feel utterly trapped. In the best way possible.

You’ve never felt more alive.

You grip the handlebars and set your feet on the pegs. His long legs flank you, reaching past your bent knees. 

God, he’s so huge. The thought makes your head swim with giddiness and lust. 

As you look over your shoulder, Victor leans forward, your noses almost touching, the cold metal of his headpiece contrasting the heated flesh of your cheek. His right hand clutches the throttle, boxing you in completely. 

He revs the engine and whispers against your ear, “Hold on tight,” a sinful grin slowly creeping up his face. 

The motorcycle lurches forward and takes off into the night, drowning out the echoes of your exhilarated laughter.

***

With the wind in your hair and Victor flush up against you, you can’t think of a better place to be.

The road you’re on winds up a small mountain, the headlight on the bike the only thing illuminating the dark asphalt. Giant pines line the way, the smell filling your lungs. A smile tugs at your mouth and you close your eyes for a moment.

Victor bends down next to your ear and says over the roar of the motorcycle, “Having fun?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding? Definitely.”

You angle your face towards his and boldness takes over. You move your lips to his cheek, kissing the cool skin. 

It takes everything inside him to keep his eyes forward on the road. His hands grip the handlebars next to yours, white knuckling the metal. 

Victor lets out a satisfied hum, the rumble of it washing over the length of your spine. Your body unintentionally leans into the feeling. His thighs squeeze yours as you hear him clear his throat. Yea, you’re having fun alright. 

“It’s not much further, just up this bend.”

After a few more minutes of driving, there’s a clearing that opens up at the top of a grass plateau.

Victors pulls the motorcycle off to the side, kicks the stand down, and rests his feet on the ground. 

“Would you like me to help you off?”

“Yes, please.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s sliding his hands over your waist, gripping you through your clothes. He gently lifts you in the air once more and places you down next to the bike. He hands don’t leave you yet though. 

You glance up and he’s studying you. Your brows raise playfully as you say, “Victor, I’m on the ground now.”

“Right.” He releases you quickly, color staining his face as if he’s embarrassed. You always knew he could be sweet, but this is making your heart swell. 

He jumps off the motorcycle unceremoniously, digging in the saddlebags. He hands you a flashlight while he pulls out an electric lantern, and a throw blanket. 

Your heart skips in your chest. Is he taking me stargazing?

“Follow me, please.” He leads you to a grassy, flat area where he rolls the blanket out, spreading it out across the earth. 

You’re looking up at the night sky spinning in a circle, and a sense of nostalgia for a place you’ve never been hits you. You always loved looking up at the stars. Space absolutely captivates you. There’s not a cloud in sight. It’s the perfect conditions for this. 

You’re smiling so hard your face hurts when you turn to Victor. He’s watching you with something akin to awe. You feel precious under his gaze. 

“In a few seconds, you’ll finally get your surprise.” You furrow your brows, confused at his comment. He smirks and points back to the sky, just behind your head and up. 

You turn, focusing on the stars. Suddenly, a meteor streaks straight across the sky, burning bright before it disappears. 

Your hands fly to your mouth, an overwhelming feeling rocketing through your body. You almost have the strange urge to cry when two more dash across your vision. 

An uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of you as you bounce on your feet. You swing your head to Victor who has his arms crossed over his chest, looking especially smug. 

“You told me long ago you had always wanted to experience a meteor shower, but never got the chance. I couldn’t let that happen, you see. So, here we are.”

“Victor, I told you that one time. I’m pretty sure it was the first day we met, actually,” you say, astonished. That was over a year ago at this point.

He walks over to you slowly, taking your hand in his. Yours is barely the size of his palm. He brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips across your knuckles. 

“I happen to remember every single word you’ve ever said to me,” he utters, his breath ghosting over your skin. 

You swallow thickly at the tenderness in his touch, the words and their implications. I’m not just falling for him anymore. I’m tumbling through the air head over heels. 

“Come, let's sit. You’re missing the show,” he teases. 

Victor makes his way onto the blanket, taking up three quarters of it, spreading his long legs out in front of him, his arms supporting him behind his back. He pats the space next to him knowingly, a sliver of the cloth left. The only way to fit is to cuddle up close to him. But you have other ideas.

You smirk down at him, the top of his head just under your chin. You step over his leg right between his knees and plop down. You smile sweetly and spin your body. Scooting back until you’re snug with his torso. A surprised grunt escapes him, making you chuckle. 

You relax your body, leaning against him fully, letting out a contented sigh. You cross one ankle over the other and settle in. 

The underside of Victor’s chin comes forward to rest on the top of your head and it’s bliss.

***

It feels like a lifetime has passed once the meteor shower comes to an end. You spent the past hour gasping and pointing at all the ones you’ve seen, Victor all too glad to indulge you. Your enthusiasm making him snigger every once in a while. 

When you believe you’ve seen the last of the show, you sit up and spin around, cross-legged. Your knees resting on the tops of his thighs. 

“Thank you for doing this, Victor. Taking me here. It was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen,” you say timidly. 

The sound of his name on your lips has him reeling, but all he says is, “You’re very welcome, (y/n). I hope it was everything you imagined.”

“And more,” you mutter. “Now, I have a question for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“May I take off your goggles?”

Immediate apprehension materializes on Victor’s face.

You quickly blurt out, “If you’d rather not, it’s perfectly fine, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

But he holds up a hand, understanding etched in his features. “No, it’s alright. I just...” He trails off, trying to collect himself. “I’m not the man I once was. The physical changes have been startling to say the least, but you’ve grown accustomed to them it seems. But my eyes. You’ve never seen them. They may be the most frightening shift of all. That’s the only reason for my hesitation.”

“Victor, there is nothing under there that is going to turn me away. I just want to see you,” you declare with certainty. 

Maybe it’s the sincerity in your voice or the adoration in your eyes, but it makes Victor lean forward. He waves a hand towards the headpiece as if to say, go ahead.

You switch your position, now kneeling, sitting back on your heels. You steadily reach for the goggles, pulling them away from his face. 

He has his eyes closed and his breath shudders out of his mouth. 

Your palm lays softly on his cheek, letting him know you’re here. I’m not going anywhere.

Victor gradually opens his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the low light. 

Magnificent is the first word that comes to your mind. His sclerae are black, his irises a pale yellow. But with the lantern casting a faint light from across the blanket, his eyes look like they’re glowing. 

“They’re lovely,” you whisper faintly. 

Victor lets out the breath he’d been holding, a sense of relief sweeping over him.

The light dances along the planes of your face as you smile at him, genuinely and openly. 

Before you realize what’s happening, he’s taking a hold of you and his lips are colliding with yours. The kiss is dizzying, but Victor pulls away quicker than you expect.

“My apologies. I shouldn’t have seized you like that without asking your permission,” he mutters sheepishly. 

“Victor, shut up and kiss me again,” you exclaim with a shameless laugh. 

That’s all he needs to surge forward and bring your mouths together again. The kiss starts slow, exploratory nips and licks along his lips have both of you moaning in the stillness of the night. When his tongue runs along yours, you gasp. He swallows the sound, a growl rolling through him.

He pulls you into his lap, his arousal evident underneath you. The thought of fucking him out here sends you spiraling, thinking it would be a bit fast for a first date. The logical part of you makes you pull back, peering at him through your lashes. His eyes are hazy with lust and something else that makes your blood sing in your veins.

“What are you thinking?” You say.

“I’m thinking I want to watch you come undone under the stars. If you’d allow me. We don’t have to do anything else. I just want to make you feel good.”

Can he read my fucking mind?

Grinning, you say, “That’s very generous of you.”

“I am a gentleman, after all.”

Your laugh cuts through the silence. You nod and he motions for you to turn around, spinning his finger in a circle. 

Heat pulses through you at the thought of him making you come.

You sit back down between his legs and his arms slide around you. His hands rest at the button of your jeans. “May I?”

“Yes, yes Victor, please.” 

He chuckles darkly, “So impatient, my dear. All in good time.”

Your arms hook under his and your fingers grip his muscular arms through his jacket. 

He unbuttons your pants, slowly dragging the zipper down. He pulls at your shirt, revealing your stomach to the cold air. But you’re so turned on, it’s hard to notice the bite of it. 

His hand covers your lower abdomen, the mere size of it making your mouth water. He toys with the waistband of your panties, slipping his pinky under the fabric. It brushes the top of your clit, making your hips push up into his hand. He pushes the rest of the way in and groans.

Victors panting lowly in your ear, loving the sounds that escape you when he touches you like this. His middle finger leisurely glides down to your slit, gathering the wetness there. He thrusts into you with his finger, your pussy clenching him tightly. He moves in and out, the pace maddeningly slow.

He starts alternating between fucking you with his finger and rubbing your clit. You whimper loudly grasping at him.

“I could listen to you for hours,” he growls deeply next to your ear, his voice like gravel. 

You can feel the familiar tightening low in your belly, the spark of pleasure gushing through your limbs.

You’re so wet, Victor’s finger slips over you with ease, picking up speed in time with your moans. 

“Come for me, (y/n). I want to know what my touch does to you.”

His words send you over the edge, your orgasm shattering your body and mind. The pleasure is so intense, your eyes screw shut and you cry out. He works you as you come down, gently coaxing you to the end. 

Victor tugs his hand out of your panties and brings his finger to his mouth. He sucks it in between his lips and licks it clean, humming gratifyingly.

“Next time, I want to taste you,” he announces.

You hear a knock on your door, which isn’t just strange, it’s down right alarming at this time of night. 

You're not sure what compels you to walk towards it, especially at this hour. You peak through the peep hole anyway, and all you can see is a hulking figure on the other side, silhouetted by the light.

The only person you’ve ever known with that stature flashes in your mind. The memories of him crash into you like a freight train. 

No, it can’t be. I thought he was dead.

You step back from the door, not quite believing your own eyes. 

You don’t remember the last time you saw him. Was it really so many years ago?

“I know you’re in there, (y/n). Please answer the door,” the raspy voice calls out.

You slowly lower your forehead to the cool wood, your heart rate picking up at his pleading tone. He had never sounded like that in all the years you’d known him. 

Your morbid curiosity and something else you can’t quite name tells you to grab the handle and swing open the door. 

Dr. Victor Gideon is standing there, hunched over, breathing heavily. He’s bruised all over and bleeding from the side of his head. His long jacket is ripped to shreds. Is that snake skin?

But he’s not the man you knew, not even close. His skin is grey and pale, a scar bisects his entire chest from his bottom lip to his lower abdomen, and his eyes, his eyes are black with light yellow irises. You can see his teeth from the way his labored breaths pass his lips. They’re gold. 

You had heard rumors after you left Umbrella. That Victor had experimented on himself. You’d seen pictures of him, blurry and unfocused from your own research, when you were trying to keep tabs on him. So you’re not surprised at his appearance, even if it is unnerving. 

About a year ago, it was as if he fell off the face of the earth. Just disappeared. You’d assumed the worst. That Umbrella tied up that loose end. 

Now looking at him though, you had the sudden urge to throw your arms around him. He’d been your colleague, your friend, and something more at one point. You weren’t afraid of him. But you still needed to rationalize with yourself about what his visit meant. 

You're staring into his eyes now, your head tilting back almost completely. Had he grown taller?

“Victor, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?” You hiss with bewilderment. 

“It’s good to see you again as well, (y/n).” He utters softly with a quirk of his lips. 

“Why do you look like you got into a fight with a grizzly bear?”

He lets out a low chuckle at this, the sound going straight to your core like it always had. Victor’s eyes snap to yours, like he notices your slight arousal. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. What the fuck, is it forked?

“If you would please allow me inside, I will explain everything. Clearly, I need your help,” he murmurs, gesturing to himself.

“Do you really think you can just show up here, out of the blue, and think everything would be okay? That I’d welcome you with open arms? That’s not how this works!” You say, your voice rising with every word. 

“I…apologize. I understand how this looks. But I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Another surprise. Dr. Victor Gideon had never apologized to you, or anyone for that matter.

He’s looking at you with something so vulnerably genuine that it catches you off-guard. It’s enough for you to give in. What the fuck am I doing?

You swing the door open stepping to the side as you say, “Come in.”

Victor slowly moves through the doorway, ducking slightly to accommodate his size. His steps are just as steady as you remember. 

You shut the door and turn to peer at him, only to find him staring down at you intently, studying you. His yellow eyes are blinking lazily, and you feel completely exposed. 

“Come on,” you mutter, “let’s get you patched up and we can talk.”

You lead him to your couch which he absolutely dwarfs. Victor was always a big man, but now he just seems massive. He takes off his duster, the fabric sliding off his shoulders with ease to reveal his chiseled upper body clad in a leather vest. He tosses the coat on the back of the sofa. You can’t help but swallow at the sight of him.

Focus. You reach into your cabinet to find a first aid kit. 

Victor sits down with a groan. You make your way over to him and position yourself between his long legs. You're actually eye level with him because of the low profile cushions. It feels like he’s consuming you, surrounding you at every angle as your thighs brush against his. 

He leans forward so his face is mere inches from yours. His large hands rest on his knees, but his fingers twitch, almost as if he wants to reach out and place them on your hips. You’re glad he doesn’t, because the tension would snap and you’re afraid of what you’d do. What you’d do to him more specifically. 

You lift your eyes to him from your first aid supplies in your hands, and there’s that stare again. Exploring your face openly, cataloging all the things about it he used to know. 

You try not to let it distract you as you bring your hands to his face and begin to clean and dress his wound. You’re so close you can feel Victor’s breath on your neck and upper chest, the baggy t-shirt you’re wearing hanging low enough to expose your collar bones. It makes you shiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but the way his hands tighten on his knees, you know he does. 

“So, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

He tells you everything. About Umbrella and The Connections. The care center. The DSO and FBI agents. Elpis. Spencer. By the time he’s done, your head is spinning. 

After you’re finished with his wound, you place your palm against his face. Victor’s eyes flutter at the touch and shut while he takes in a deep breath. His hand comes up to lay upon yours. It’s twice the size and cool on the back of your hand. 

“Do you regret any of it?” You whisper, tears clinging to your lashes from his revealing story.

“Yes,” he admits resolutely. “I was blinded by my ambition, my devotion. It didn’t mean anything in the end. I let them take advantage of me. I did terrible things to innocent people. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

The heartbreak in his voice is almost your undoing. Then he asks, punctuating every word, “Why did you let me in?”

Why indeed.

Because I’m an idiot. Because I was curious. Because you’re the only man I’ve ever loved, and I didn’t want to turn you away. 

“Victor…”

His name on your lips has him wrapping his arms around you slowly, sliding his hands along your waist and pulling you close so your noses almost touch. 

“Do you want to know why I came here tonight?” He murmurs. 

You nod your head. It's the only thing you can do being this close to him. 

“Because out of all the regret and devastation, I never felt that regarding you. You’re the only thing in this life that is worth having. And I’ll do anything to regain your faith in me. So I had to find you before it was too late. I was absolutely mad about you, (y/n).”

His declaration has you weak in the knees. “And now?” You ask lowly. 

Victor’s mouth lifts on one side, his head tilting into your hand still on his face. 

“I very much still am, yes.”

He barely gets the words out before your grabbing his face and kissing him. It’s slow at first, your lips exploring each others. His feel different now, scarred and cracked, but the heat is still there. The languid way his tongue strokes yours sends jolts of pleasure through your body all the way to your toes.

Your hands move to circle his neck and your fingers run through his greying hair behind his head. He moans into the kiss like he’s a man starved. You feel yourself smile against his lips when his hands slide under your shirt, feeling your hot skin contrast with his cool touch.

The smooth metal of his rings drag over your skin making you gasp. You haven’t felt like this in a very long time. Not since being with him all those years ago.

You pull back to look at him, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide. A moment passes between you, a question in Victor’s eyes, an answer in yours. 

He scoops you up unceremoniously which earns him a startled yelp from you. His one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back. You grab at his neck and push your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. He smells like the rain. Earthy and musky. 

“Upstairs?” He asks in a playful tone. Full of surprises tonight. 

“Upstairs,” you giggle, feeling remarkably light. 

Victor bounds up the steps two at a time carrying you. For a man that’s seven feet tall, he’s surprisingly agile and graceful. 

In your bedroom, he sets you down on the mattress near the bottom of the bed and kneels between your legs. His forked tongue makes another appearance as it slips past his lips. His eyes practically roll into the back of his head. 

“Let me taste you (y/n), please. It’s been so long.”

Heat surges to your cheeks and you nod. 

Victor grabs your shorts and panties together, looks to you for confirmation, then slides them both down your legs. He grins with pleasure as he gazes at your core, your arousal glistening on your pussy lips. He glimpses your hard nipples through your shirt and clenches his jaw. You lay back, the expression on his face making you nearly burst into flames. 

He leans forward and licks you in one smooth motion, ending at your clit where he circles his tongue. 

A moan escapes you suddenly and your back arches off the bed, pushing your hips fully into his mouth.

Victor growls low in his throat, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. 

He’s gripping your hips, your legs hanging over his shoulders when your knot your fingers in his hair and pull. He watches you with a satisfied smirk from the junction of your thighs. He’s right where he wants to be. 

Victor whispers against your slit, “You taste absolutely divine. Just like I remember.” 

As he continues to lick and suck at you, your orgasm builds so quickly it's all you can do not to scream as you find your release. Wave after wave of pulses wash over you as you slowly come down, Victor still lightly kissing your sensitive skin. 

You come up on your elbows, face flushed, goofy smile on your face, hair mussed, and he thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You can tell by the look in his eyes. Pure adoration. 

God, I love him fiercely.

The thought springs into your mind loudly, your eyes going wide. You can’t believe you didn’t blurt it out. But you can’t hide anything from Dr. Victor Gideon. He regards you closely as if he can read your mind.

He unhurriedly stands from his position and starts to undress. One by one, the clasps of his vest become undone, his torso on full display. He’s still just as magnificent as the first day you laid eyes on him. 

He toes off his black boots and pulls at his belt buckle, an ouroboros. Destruction and rebirth.

As he steps out of his leather pants, his cock comes free. It's thick, long, and incredibly hard.

A snake tattoo wraps around his enormous thigh, curling from knee to groin. It makes you extremely wet, the only word coming to your mind to describe it is hot.

Never taking his eyes off you, he crawls onto the bed. Victor bends down until your lips touch.

“What is it you like? The same?”

You raise your arms above your head, crossing them at your wrists to answer his question. 

A wicked grin flashes on his face as he grabs where they cross with his giant hand. His fingers dig into your hip with the other.

“Victor, fuck me, please,” you gasp. 

He doesn’t hesitate as he pushes forward, his cock filling you entirely. The stretch is overwhelming, but not new either. Your body remembers him.

Your eyes roll and you moan into his mouth. He seizes the opportunity to kiss you, biting at your bottom lip. His mouth moves to your jaw down to your neck, his gold teeth latching onto the delicate flesh there making you whimper with need.

Once he starts moving, it doesn’t take long for Victor to start pounding into you. The long pulls and pushes of his cock over and over again make you feel wild, your orgasm tightening at the base of your spine. 

His hand on your wrists squeezes tighter, making your pussy clench around him.

“That’s it, make a mess of me, pretty girl,” he growls above you. 

Stars burst behind your eyelids as you cum, his words and his cock sending you into oblivion. Your walls flutter around him almost violently, causing his thrusts to stutter. The moan that escapes you is so lovely, Victor can’t hold on any longer.

He roars with release, cumming so hard it steals his breath, his vision nearly going black.

Your wrists are released, your arms feeling like jelly. As you place your arms around his neck, Victor rolls so you’re laying on his chest. You can feel his erratic heartbeat under your cheek. He runs his fingers through your hair, his nails dragging along your scalp. You’re practically purring.

You pick up your head and prop your chin on his sternum. He has his eyes closed and a slight smile on his face, the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

“Because I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you,” you say into the silence. 

His eyes fly open, the yellow irises almost aglow. “Pardon?”

“Why I let you in.”

He sits up quickly, grabbing your face in his hands. He’s smiling, gold teeth and all.

“Forgive me, I didn’t quite hear you. Say it again.”

“I love you,” you say freely with a chuckle. 

“Again.”

“I love you,” you exclaim. 

“One more time.” 

You let out a small laugh as his lips brush your cheek. 

“Dr. Victor Gideon, I love you.”

He kisses you softly then, your heart ready to explode in your chest at his gentleness. He rests his forehead against yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I love you, (y/n). With my entire being. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

The idea had come to you when Victor let it slip what he liked. 

You’d never done anything like this before, and it made you feel powerful. Like you were the one who was 7 feet tall.

Victor’s sitting on the couch in his office, legs spread, the leather of his pants stretching over his massive thighs, his obvious arousal straining against the fabric at his groin. His arms lay across the back of the couch, hands clenching the cushions. His snake skin jacket is gone and only his vest remains.

You stand before him in just your cami and panties, staring at each other. 

As his yellow eyes start to wander down your form, your stern voice calls out, “Eyes up here big boy,” as you point to your face.

Victor’s eyes flash up holding your stare. The look he gives you can only be described as pure need. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

You slowly approach his form and set your hands on his knees. You start sliding them up his legs, all the way to the junction of his hips. 

Victor lets out an exhale as he leans forward and starts to reach for you with his arms. 

“Uh uh, no touching.” 

He smirks at that, letting out a low chuckle, as he leans back and places his arms back on the couch, hands grasping the cushions once more.

You proceed to climb onto his lap, straddling him, and sit back on your heels. Even in this position, Victor’s looming over you, the top of your head barely reaching his chin. You straighten up, trying to get eye level with him. 

You grab at his vest and undo the clasps one by one. Once it’s open, you spread your palms against his cool skin and lightly drag your nails down his chest all the way to his waistband. Your thumbs meet in the middle and caress his scar, earning a low moan from him. You glance at Victor’s face and his eyes are fluttering shut. 

You dip your head down and lick the scar from between his pecs to the bottom of his neck.

Victor’s eyes snap open. His pupils are absolutely blown. “Please, let me touch you.”

“Not yet. You’re being a very good boy for me.” That earns you a toothy gold grin. 

His eyes begin to wander again, taking in your form. He notices your nipples are hard and he can smell your arousal. His snake-like tongue slips out between his lips to taste your scent. You grab at his throat, pushing his chin up to look into your eyes once more. 

“Focus on me, baby.” You’re starting to really like this as he tilts his head and looks at you with half-lidded eyes, a small smile of his face.

Realizing you need this as much as he does, you reach up. With one hand on his face and the other on the back of his head, you kiss him. Victor opens his mouth and darts his tongue over yours. You hollow out your cheeks and suck on it. His guttural moan vibrates in his chest against your nipples making you gasp.

You bite at his bottom lip, harder than he expects, drawing some blood. His eyes are wild as he looks at you. Your mouths crash together again as his arms start to move around you. 

You immediately stop and give him a scolding look. 

“I said no touching.”

“My love, please. You’re driving me mad.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” you say with a wicked grin. 

You decide to stop torturing him somewhat and slide your body up his thighs. Your clothed pussy lands on the bulge in Victor’s pants.

You both groan and he bucks his hips up into your damp core. You can see his big hands clasping the couch like a vice, the muscles in his bare arms taut with concentration. 

With your fingers in his hair and your nails dragging along the base of his skull, you kiss him again while grinding your hips over his cock.

Victor pants into the kiss, both of you lost in the pleasure of your movements. You feel the familiar tightening in your core as your orgasm builds. It just feels so good, the friction of your wet panties, the slickness of his leather pants. 

“That’s it, use me, you greedy little thing,” Victor growls. 

His voice is enough to send you over the edge, the waves of pleasure rolling over you as your pussy dampens his lap through the cloth. 

“That’s what good boys are for,” you murmur against his lips, smirking at him.

Still reeling from your pleasure, you push yourself back on his thighs and undo his belt. 

After sliding down his zipper, Victor lifts his hips so you can pull down his pants. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. It’s thick and long, the scar that bisects him running all the way down to his head. 

You wrap your hand around him and stroke, hearing him hiss above you. He’s hard as steel under the soft velvety skin of his shaft. You keep working him as you see a bead of precum leak out of his slit.

He looks into your eyes with so much desire that you finally, finally, pull forward, move your panties to the side, and sink down onto him slowly, letting his cock fill and stretch you deliciously. 

You roll your hips forward and his head tips back to the couch with a curse. 

With his neck exposed, you reach up and bite him hard. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he howls as you lap at the mark now marring his skin. 

“I love what you do to me,” Victor whispers as you continue to roll your hips back and forth. You feel another orgasm building as you increase your pace. 

His moans and your gasps are the only thing you hear in the quiet of his office.

“Let me touch you, darling. I need to touch you, please.”

You pull back from his face and see the pleading in his eyes. You nod your head and his arms swing around you, one hand landing on the back of your head to tangle in your hair, the other grasping at your hip as his fingers dig into your skin. His rings cut into your flesh making you whimper.

“Fuck Victor, you feel so good.”

You quicken your pace when you feel Victor’s hand slide around your front where his thumb presses lightly on your clit. 

“Be a good boy for me and make me cum,” you say against his ear, grabbing the lobe with your teeth.

“Yes, anything for you,” he whines desperately as his thumb works you faster and faster. 

It’s no surprise you come again from his words, your pussy squeezing his cock so tightly it’s almost painful, your moans the only thing he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. Your pleasure, your voice, your body, your mind. All of it’s his in this moment with you.

Victor practically roars as his release tears through him with all of these thoughts and feelings of you. His cock explodes as his cum fills you, hot and thick. The aftershocks of your pleasure mix with his pulsing cock and the sounds he's making have you coming undone a third time. 

As you both come down from your highs, your panting breaths are the only sounds in the room. 

You open your eyes to find Victor’s yellow ones looking at you as if you are the only person who ever mattered, who ever will matter. It makes you feel so loved, so cherished, it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“I love you, more than anything,” you whisper as you stroke his face. His eyes drift closed as he leans his head into the touch. He angles his head to kiss the inside of your palm, making your heart flutter in your chest.