#victor von doom x plus size reader

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Victor Von Doom / Doctor Doom Masterlist

One Shots

Home — winter themed, fluff.

↪︎ female!reader ; 2.1k words. | modern AU | Your flatmate hates the holidays so he doesn’t celebrate them. You have to go home for said holidays, but maybe home isn’t where you thought it was.

Doom, Doom, Doom — angst, fluff.

↪︎ female!reader ; 1.2k words ; requested. | Your husband from an arranged marriage accidentally hugs you.

Join Me — angst, smut, fluff.

↪︎ female!reader ; 2k words ; requested. | You’re afraid Victor will find someone better, he’s afraid you’ll leave him. Both of you are dead wrong.

Secrets & Confessions — fluff.

↪︎ female!reader ; 1.2k words ; requested. | You’re dating Victor behind The Fantastic Four’s backs. Well, you were.

Always Welcome — angst, fluff.

↪︎ gender neutral!reader ; 1.6k words ; requested. | You go to your closest friend Victor for comfort, feeling like you’re about to lose yourself after a stressful week filled with nightmares.

For Your Own Good — fluff.

↪︎ gender neutral!reader ; 900-ish words ; requested. | Victor helps you make your period cramps all better.

Drabbles & Ficlets

All of them are written with gender neutral readers and all of them are requested unless stated otherwise.

A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss

“I never want anything. Anyone. Now I want you.”

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Always Welcome | Victor Von Doom

✦ pairing — Victor Von Doom x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.6k

✦ modern AU

✦ summary — you go to your closest friend Victor for comfort, feeling like you’re about to lose yourself after a stressful week filled with nightmares.

✦ request — Could I request a Modern!AU with Dr. Doom with prompts S5 and F6?

✶ S5 - “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

✶ F6 - “Every inch of you is breathtaking.”

✦ warnings — light angst, very light mentions of self-harm, fluff.

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At least it wasn’t raining, only a little too cold to take a walk in sweatpants and a hoodie. Unsurprisingly, you didn’t find the cold comfortable, not now, not alone — not after the shitty week you had.

You looked up at the bedroom window as you stopped in front of the familiar house. The lights were off. There was a possibility that Victor was still up, but you realized too late that you should’ve texted or called before appearing uninvited in the middle of the night.

You, however, rang the door and nervously waited. Playing with the strings of your hoodie, you wondered if you should leave now yet your other hand had a mind of its own and you pushed the doorbell again.

Guilt squeezed your heart as Victor opened the door, confusion and sleep clear in his face as he squinted to see who it was. “Shit, I woke you up...”

Relieved to hear your voice and not somebody else’s, he shook his head, inhaling sharply in attempts to keep himself from yawning. “You didn’t. Come in.”

He shivered as the cold temperature seeped into his house. You shook your head too. “No, no. Go back to sleep.”

Before you could turn around, he took you by the sleeve of your hoodie and pulled on it. “Please, come in.”

He tugged on your sleeve again, eyes on your scared face. He could tell you were hesitant, guilty even.

Victor managed to make you lose your balance as he pulled you into the house.

Placing your hands on his arms to steady both him and you, observing the bags under his eyes, you opened your mouth to make up an excuse.

Victor assured you, “I was already awake, I promise.”

Avoiding his eyes, you nodded lightly. He closed the door behind you, keeping his other hand on your arm and his eyes on your face. The light could have been tricking him, but he didn’t remember you looking so tired last week.

You timidly rested a hand on his side, taking a shallow breath in. You then sniffed.

“Hey,” he mumbled softly, “what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, breathing shakily as you avoided looking at anything close to him. “W—what if I—“ you interrupted yourself with another shake of your head. Yet you gave in and told him what you had been dying to get off your chest the entire week, “I’m scared,” you rasped. “So fucking scared, Victor... Nightmares are coming back.”

“Have you been stressed out lately?”

You nodded, almost shyly.

“Oh, (Name)” he sighed sadly. “It’s okay, darling, we knew it would happen while you get used to your new job.”

“I feel like I’m going to lose myself.” Your voice shook through the admission. “Again. We know how that went before.”

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Do what? Be realistic? Be ashamed of how much I’ve tried not to think about that again? I can’t help that.”

Rubbing your arms up and down, he said, “You are here. You could be anywhere else, you could be hurting yourself, but you are here with me. You did that, (Name), you had a thought and made a choice. That’s what matters.” Slowly, he trailed his hands up your arms and rested them on your neck, ready to hug you.

You didn’t make a sound nor push him away, you merely avoided his eyes. Not looking into his gentle gaze was the only thing keeping you from crying.

“I’m proud of you. And I wish you weren’t minimizing your progress because you’ve had a few bad days, but it’s okay. It’s normal, and you’re only human.”

Carefully, he hugged you by the neck. You hugged back, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He was warm, warmer than the pile of blankets you had used in vain to protect yourself from the cold. Your roommate had worriedly told you that you didn’t need that many blankets — they didn’t understand what was going on. They worried for which you were thankful, they didn’t want you to get sick.

But sickness wasn’t the issue. Unless loneliness and a mind that reels over the smallest things counted as a medical condition.

“Don’t let me go,” you pleaded.

He tightened his arms around you, chest to chest with you as you curled up around him. Your face found its place in the crook of your neck. “Never.”

You inhaled deeply, nuzzling onto him as you did so. Your forearms were firm against his back — for whatever reason, you clung to him like he would only ever be your source of comfort, as though nothing else could ground you.

Both of you knew such a thing wasn’t true, not to that extent — but for Victor, it was nice to be needed, and for you, it was nice to be assured that it was okay to need somebody.

You lightly parted from him, looking down. Your eyes finally fixed on his bloodshot ones. You wanted to oh so badly ask why he was so tired, but words got caught in your throat.

He was always so nice to you, uncharacteristically patient. And at this moment, he was looking at you with tenderness, seeking the assurance that you were okay, that you wouldn’t give up on yourself.

Unwrapping an arm from his waist, you curled the one still around his tighter on his form. Your free hand, angled so his cheek would fit on your palm, rested on the side of his face.

“Are you tired?” you asked, softly, afraid he would say yes.

“Not much. I’m sure you are.”

Abashed, you nodded.

Your thumb traced his nose, and you entertained yourself with following the movement of your finger with your eyes. “I don’t wanna go, though.”

Humming, he unconsciously nuzzled against your hand. “You don’t have to go. You know you're always welcome to stay.”

Your eyes fell on the smile he gave you, genuine and welcoming. Your gaze stayed there, mapping the stretch of his face, the shape of his lips — it wasn’t the first time you did it, yet it felt different.

Leaning down, he rested his forehead on yours. Gaze searching for his, curious as to what he was doing, you found yourself willing to get lost into his eyes and never come back.

“Just kiss me already,” you mumbled, gauging his reaction. The second the words left your mouth, you realized you could’ve been ruining the only relationship outside of your family and roommate that you had left — the only relationship you had built purely on your own.

He inhaled heavily. “Okay.”

His eyes lingered on yours, searching for doubt and nervousness but finding patience and a twinkle that hadn’t been there seconds before.

Victor slanted his head, nose bumping yours as he did so. You inhaled his breath as he softly placed his lips on yours. He wished the kiss could’ve been slow, perhaps romantic, but he couldn’t get enough of you, and he got lost in the passion that had swarmed around you both for a while now.

You gripped the back of his neck, wanting him even closer. The small gasp he let out allowed you to dive your tongue into his mouth and in return you whimpered. He was so warm now, almost burning you like the taste of coffee that lingered on his tongue coated your mouth.

Both of you pulled away from the kiss at the same time. Victor brought you onto his chest, hoping to savor the moment for a few more seconds.

Breathing in the smell of his deodorant, you hummed in appreciation as your hands traveled down his arms. Your own arms wrapped around his torso. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted, knowing there was no way he would ignore your comment. His warm shirt partially muffled your words, yet you knew he heard you just fine due to the change in his breathing.

“Because you knew I’d be a good kisser?” he teased in an attempt to not deviate from what had just happened.

You lifted your head off his chest, resting your chin on his sternum as you looked up at him. “And a cocky one, it seems.”

“I hope I’m not ruining anything between us.”

“Not at all. Unless you think so?”

“No.” Dropping a kiss on your forehead, Victor smiled against your skin. “Should’ve kissed you sooner, huh.”

“Much, much sooner.”

He agreed, “Definitely. I don’t know how I kept myself from doing it... “Every inch of you is breathtaking.”

A yawn interrupted your answer, making you blink rapidly.

“We should go to bed.” He untangled himself from your embrace, moving his arms off your body. “Do you need water before going to sleep?”

You shook your head. “Do you still have some of that coffee blend—“ you stopped yourself upon seeing him glare at you. “What?”

“Maybe the nightmares would get better if you stopped drinking coffee so late at night and before bed!”

“I’ve been stressed and I like the taste,” you defended yourself, motioning for him to lead the way already.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to stay over. And it wasn’t uncommon for him to sleep on your bed either. You wondered if this would change, if it would be awkward after that kiss.

He settled on his preferred side as though nothing had changed, sighing quite happily as your shampoo filled his senses.

His arm draped over your form as you got comfortable beside him, lightly bringing you closer.

“Sleep,” he told you. “I’ll be here. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

You hummed, eventually resting your head on you instead of the pillow. Your breath didn’t take long to fall into the rhythm it did when you were asleep.

He stayed awake for a moment, letting your presence calm you. Your breathing eventually lulled Victor into sleep too.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Hi, I hope that you're doing okay and I love your writing! Could I request “ i never want anything. anyone. now i want you. ” with Doctor Doom? ❤

Thank you so much! I hope you’re doing okay too, anon. Enjoy!

Your trips to Latveria were usually short, diplomatic visits and nothing else. This was the first time you had been summoned as a guest.

Doom’s Day was an important celebration, you had been told multiple times by Doctor Doom himself. You had never attended and you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

Outsiders didn’t have the privilege of being invited to the festivities, the only thing non-Latverians knew about such celebration was that the entire country enjoyed it.

Rumors said Doom forced every Latverian to attend, but you weren’t sure if you should believe every rumor.

He was a stoic man, hard to read. Everything was a security strategy, you supposed. He wanted to protect his people and himself.

He bowed his head as you approached him, prompting you to do the same.

“I am pleased to see you here.”

The comment took you aback. He was always polite, yes, and more respectful than any other man you had dealt with in the past, yet this was the first time he spoke in the first person.

“I am honored to be invited,” you replied curtly, hoping your voice hadn’t betrayed you by showing your surprise.

“Walk with me.”

You gave him the cue to lead the way. He walked past the front doors, guiding you into the city.

Doomstadt wasn’t what foreigners imagined. Everybody assumed Latveria’s secrecy to mean something wrong was going on there. The capital was clean, full of people either working or enjoying the day out.

They would stop upon seeing Doom and make a reverence only for him to greet them back and ask about their wellbeing.

A few children approached him too, gifting him flowers and pastries that he happily took as he reminded them not to eat too much so they would enjoy the festive dinner.

The children beamed at the reminder, as though the holiday was their favorite.

There was not an unhappy soul around you. A group of teens a few meters away were hanging decorations across the street, on top of each other’s shoulders, laughing and bantering.

Come night and the people’s mood only got better. They brought gifts to Doom and sang for him while others danced in gleeful delight. He clapped and drank the entire night, constantly asking if there was anything else you wanted.

Unable to keep it in, you marveled, “Your people look so happy.”

“I would hope so,” he said, amusement distorted by his faceplate.

The city looked different than it had earlier. Perhaps because the streets were now buzzing with music and people, or because the children were chasing each other.

It almost saddened you when the celebrations were over. You expected a tumult, protests because they had been having fun, but everybody happily found their way home.

As servants cleaned up the area, Doom invited you to take another walk. The peaceful atmosphere as the empty streets, lit up just perfectly, embraced you.

His steps were steady just like his breath despite how much mead he drank. He took the faceplate off, holding it in his hand as the stroll continued.

You heard him breathe in, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. He turned to look at you, gauging your reaction.

The only thing you did was stare. His eyes were warm which you had never noticed before.

“Would you be as happy as my people if you were to live here?”

You answered honestly, “I don’t know. What would I even do here?”

You had dedicated your entire life to politics and diplomacy, getting used to different types of government and their idiosyncrasies.

“Rule.”

“You want me to usurp your throne?”

“Rule with me.”

“Doom...” you trailed off, brow furrowed as you gazed at him.

“Victor,” he corrected you. “It’s Victor for you.”

“Where is this coming from?”

Victor offered you his hands covered by metal. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers on top of his.

He gripped your fingers, speaking fervently, “I never want anything. Anyone. Now I want you.”

“So because you want me, you wish for me to abandon my life and everything I accomplished?”

He frowned for a moment. You saw the twitches in his face as he searched for the proper words to say.

“I wish for you to be by my side,” he said, with reverence in his expectant eyes, eager to hear your answer.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Join Me | Victor Von Doom

Pairing: Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 2k

Request: may I please request some NSFW with comic!doctor doom and a short plus size reader who is very sweet and motherly and she dotes on him and loves him deeply. But she is sometimes very self-conscious about her body and the fact that he is so much smarter than her and she is afraid he'd get bored of her someday?

Warnings: nsfw, light angst, reader is a little insecure and Victor kinda doesn’t understand why, smut, fingering, unprotected sex (please, don’t do this), vaginal sex, fluff

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Surrounded by open books and with a notebook resting on your lap, you found yourself enjoying the breeze of the night. You had the balcony all to yourself, your only company was the whooshing of the trees and the stridulating from the crickets.

The setup was comfortable, you had gotten used to doing homework outside. It helped you work quicker and understand clearer, to be the most efficient you had ever been — at least academically.

Flexing your left leg under your extended right one, you leaned over to take notes that would be helpful for your upcoming exam. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but making Victor proud was more important.

You weren’t at his level, a part of you was sure you would never be. Trying your hardest was your only option to not feel as though you were a burden. There wasn’t a thing Victor didn’t excel at — there was nothing about him anyone would qualify as a flaw, much less yourself.

The light of your eyes and compass of your life he had been since the day you met him. An enticing enigma you couldn’t help but wish to unravel. You thought yourself to be dreaming when he confessed his desires to court you, how a man as regal and powerful as him would ever grow interested in someone like you was a mystery you weren’t interested in solving when he made you so happy.

That was the main reason why you wanted him to be proud, to comfortably take care of his worries and businesses with the certainty you were as prepared to be whatever he needed you to be.

Steps behind you prompted you to close the notebook. You stacked it on top of the books and pushed yourself upward to stand up as the sound of metal clanking filled your ears.

Placing the books and pencil case on the desk near the French doors, you approached Victor. “Let me help you.”

He ceased his movements, standing still before you. He, however, briefly focused his attention on the books you had been lost in. “Are the professors overwhelming you with homework?”

You shook your head, standing on your tiptoes to unclasp the chest piece of his armor. “How was your day?”

Victor complained about the inanity of the American government’s existence as you placed the armor in its place, piece by piece just the way he liked. You were used to it, they weren’t as efficient as him. And even if they were, he hated them, it had never been a secret and no one could blame him — as complicated as Victor was, he had always been clear in his convictions.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as though you would escape if he didn’t keep an eye on you. He had been doing the same for the past two weeks which only made you feel more nervous.

“You’re busy all the time,” he observed.

Not sure how to take the comment, you handed him a pajama and changed the topic. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Victor frowned. His patience was wearing thin, every night you avoided his worries and instead focused on whatever he could need. Victor loved the attention, your love and care had filled a hole in him and made him find a side of him he had only seen while around little Valeria; but he wanted to give you the same, to have a normal conversation with you like at the beginning of your relationship.

Had he done something wrong? Was life in Doomstadt so boring you preferred focusing on getting a second degree?

“Are you leaving me?” He blurted upon seeing you come back from the bathroom.

You frowned. “Of course not. Come, the water is just the way you like it.”

Not taking his eyes off you, he stood. Offering his hand for you to take it, he stared so hard he ceased blinking. Your hesitation made him swallow harshly, your touch eased off the string of doubts and inquires simmering up his throat as the fear of being abandoned once again bubbled up.

His slow steps prompted you to check his body a third time in search of fresh injuries. You didn’t find any. He must have been tired, poor thing.

“Join me.” It wasn’t an invitation but a command.

A silent nod was your only reaction. Dropping his hand in order to get rid of your clothes, you heard him sigh. A splash then filled your ears — you almost giggled, you would have if the air between you wasn’t so tense.

His eyes were heavy on you, so deep you swore their warmth had been replaced by darkness. Steading yourself against the edges of the tub as you sunk into the water, you fully faced him.

Victor rested his cheek on his hand. He inhaled sharply, “I am aware of my failings as a partner, yet I foolishly assumed our relationship was salvable...”

Dropping your gaze, you bit your bottom lip. For a while now you had seen such words coming. You couldn’t fathom why he would ask if you would leave him when he was the one considering it.

“Could you please not dump me while I’m naked in the same bathtub as you?” you pleaded for your dignity.

“I am not dumping you, as you say.”

“Perhaps you should.” You didn’t mean it, but truth to be told, the weight of everyone’s —including your own— expectations were getting too heavy to carry. There were many people who would be better than you at loving him, at ruling Latveria beside him,

“I don’t understand what is it that you want,” he admitted.

You swirled the warm water with your finger, letting the bubbles brush your skin as the water ever so slightly rippled.

Victor took your silence as a sign of indifference. “In fact,” he continued, “I don’t understand how you can be so caring toward me and then...”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a whisper. “I am the problem.”

He scoffed. “How cliché of you.”

“Well, how insensitive of you!” you countered, setting your jaw when you felt him move. “I am honestly telling you there’s nothing wrong with you, or my affections toward you, or... I don’t know, anything that isn’t me, but you have to take it personally because you’re so perfect you can’t understand m—“

“(Y/N),” his voice changed, the cold tone went out of the window then, “breathe, love.”

You breathed in, nodding. His hands found yours underwater just as you were opening your mouth to continue explaining yourself. Victor squeezed them in an attempt to keep you from getting more overwhelmed.

“I’m not good enough,” you confessed, “not always.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He leaned over, dropping one of your hands to place his palm on your thigh. You tensed under his touch, making him tilt his head.

“I’m not smart like you, I can’t solve problems...” you bit your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes in attempts of keeping your tears at bay.

“Of course you can solve problems, simply not in the same way I do. You are sweet and kind. Everyone here loves you, my dear,” Victor slid his hand to your waist, fingers brushing your soft stomach in their way upward. Pulling you toward him, he rested his back against the tub again.

You carefully placed your hand on his shoulder. Splashing water as you fit yourself on his lap, you finally stared at him to asses what he wanted.

“You’ve made me a better ruler and a better man,” he fervently spoke, “I wouldn’t trade you for the universe.”

He had been a God and found it beneath him, but you? Oh, you were his equal, his queen, everything he had ever dreamed and so much more. Happiness hadn’t been in his vocabulary until he started courting you, now the world looked brighter with you by his side — worth saving instead of merely conquering.

“I’m afraid you’ll get tired of me,” you lamented, “find someone prettier, more attractive...”

“Such a person doesn’t exist, not in my eyes.”

“Bu—“ your words died in your throat, this time because Victor grew impatient and slammed his lips onto yours.

Kissing him back, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed. Your hand moved to his cheek where your thumb gently brushed circles around the tender scars under your fingertips.

His grip tightened on your waist. Victor deepened the kiss by prying your mouth open, relishing on your soft sighs as your body relaxed. One of his hands slipped down to your thigh, caressing it softly as you parted from his lips to get some air.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, inching his hand closer to your pussy. His hand stopped at your mount. “Is this okay?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nodded. Reaching your clit, he circled it gently with his thumb — pleasure ran through you and your head dropped onto his shoulder. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you mouthed at his skin as he gradually moved his thumb faster and applied more pressure.

A moan slipped out of your throat, making him smile as the hand on his chest traveled downward. You started stroking his cock when he slipped two fingers inside you. Whimpering his name, you gripped the base of his cock a little too tight which prompted him to whimper too.

As he felt your walls tighten around his fingers, Victor withdrew them. You groaned in annoyance, thinking it was one of his teasing games. On the contrary, he thrust up in your hand so you would get the hint.

His cock brushed your folds once you took your hand off it. Biting your lip, you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. He gave you a hungry look through his eyelashes and you couldn’t believe you had doubted his attraction toward you as his eyes then roamed down your torso.

Impatiently, Victor took you by the hips. Letting out a giggle, you placed both hands on his shoulders and eased yourself onto his cock. His threw his head back, humming in pleasure as you took your time.

The position wasn’t new to you, but the place was. You weren’t sure as to how to move so the water wouldn’t overflow. Asking would probably ruin the mood so you risked it and tentatively moved your hips.

The slow movements were nice, a difference from how sex was usually with Victor. You liked both equally, this one was simply more exciting because of its novelty. He seemed to think the same, at least that was what his expression told you as he uncharacteristically let you do whatever you wanted.

He grew bored of just watching and take it, though. One of his hands ran up your torso to your chest. He kneaded your breast, breath getting harsh as your hands went back to his neck where you this time gripped for more leverage. Thrusting up to meet your movements, Victor kissed his way up from your chest to your neck and then your mouth.

Your moans got louder when he hammered into you harder. The splashing water was the least of your worries, you were lost in the pleasure as now his hands roamed your body, and his mouth sucked on your nipples.

You released a long whimper when he started continuously hitting your spot. He took it as encouragement and quickened his movements. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, him following just behind in slow yet deep thrusts. You clung to him, breath unsteady and head buzzing with the intensity of your orgasm. Victor continued kissing your neck and face, breathing on your skin through his nose.

“The water isn’t warm anymore,” you told him, annoyed by the fact his warm bath had been ruined.

Grunting, he gently pulled you off his lap. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s take a shower and go to bed.”

You moved slowly, more tired than you anticipated. The shower was a blur, you didn’t recall which pajama you had put on or if you had dried your hair or not. It didn’t matter either, you were in bed with the man you loved, clung to his torso as your head rested on his stomach and his arms around you.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Hi, I love your writing so much!! ❤ If you're still writing the drabbles, can I request #2 with Doctor Doom?

Thank you, dear.

A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

It was a startling view. Victor never stayed in bed past sunrise, he always had things to do and plans to put in motion. Naturally, you assumed he was feeling unwell.

Sitting up silently, slowly to not wake him up, you leaned over his face. The back of your hand merely brushed his forehead — he didn’t have a fever, his face was dry and cool.

His eyes fluttered open. You immediately whispered, “sorry for waking you, my love.”

Victor slanted his head in search of your touch. Your thumbs caressed his cheek as you dipped your face, closer to his. Leaving a small kiss on his lips, you slowly withdrew your hands by dropping them to his shoulders first.

He held the back of your head, sitting up to reach for your lips. In contrast to yours, his kiss was hungry, deep, and heavy as his mouth swallowed your surprised gasp. Your hands went to his hair where your finger tangled, his unoccupied palm gripped your waist, desperate to have you flush against him.

Succeeding at pulling you on top of him, victor explored your mouth with his tongue. Hot puffs of air escaped his nostrils but didn’t give in to the need of taking a breath, the passion flowing through his veins was more important, kissing you was better than air anyway.

Turning your head sideways so you could get some oxygen, you asked in a pant, “don’t you have things to do?”

“Yes,” he admitted, rolling you both over. On top of you, he hid his face on your neck. “You,” he mouthed on your skin.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Secrets & Confessions | Victor Von Doom

✦ pairing — Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.2k

✦ request — I was wondering if you could write something where Doom and the reader are in a secret relationship since she is part of the avengers (or x-men or friends with F4 whichever you feel like writing) but they catch them together?

✦ warnings — fluff, maybe a hint of jealousy.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Saying you were running late would be an understatement. You were supposed to receive Victor at your place forty minutes ago. You had learned rather soon into the relationship that he hated when people made him wait and you weren’t an exception to it.

It was the third time you were late that week, all due to the same reason. Hiding things from highly capable people was getting tiring. Mostly when those people were your friends whom you loved.

Victor had made himself comfortable in the living room, plopped down on the couch with a glass of wine. shedding. Well, that was progress, he was wearing a hoodie for once.

You sighed, observing how annoyed he looked “I know, I know, I’m late.” You approached him to kiss him in greeting, hoping the show of affection would dissuade him into forgetting about your tardiness.

Víctor placed his arm around your shoulders. “What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t find an excuse to leave Susan alone, then traffic happened.”

“And whose fault is that?”

You closed your eyes, dropping your head onto his shoulder. You didn’t want to fight, and the topic of your relationship and its private status always lead to that.

Yes, it was your fault, but Víctor didn’t care what any of your friends had to say, he didn’t even like them. And seeing as they didn’t like him either, you were in the middle of something you hadn’t really chosen.

“How was your day?” you changed the subject.

His loud sigh wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by anyone, but you ignored it still. It was a skill you had mastered throughout the last three months, and Victor only complained when he was serious about what bothered him — he knew better than anyone how dramatic he could be.

“It doesn’t matter.”

You shifted, opening your eyes to look at him. He looked down at you, mouth twitching upwards as he placed his hand on your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you nuzzled your face onto his palm. Victor twisted his body, withdrawing his arm off your shoulders to wrap it around your waist.

You reached for him in order to cup his face, thumbs softly caressing his cheeks, following the length of one of his scars, as you stared at him through your eyelashes.

Loud knocking interrupted the moment. Smiling apologetically at Victor, you shimmied yourself off his grip, slowly withdrawing your hands from his face to walk toward the door

Swinging the door open, you couldn’t help but screech, ”Johnny! What are you doing here?”

“Sue said you needed me to pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

Johnny nodded. “We’re babysitting, remember?”

You didn’t remember any of that. You were supposed to babysit Valeria and Franklin on Saturday, but not on a weekday.

Oh, Sue and her adamancy on fixing your love life.

You wished you could tell her every single one of your secrets. Not only because she was your best friend, but because she was getting annoying with the topic of who would be a good prospect for you.

You knew Johnny was great, you had known him for years. Sue telling you anything about her brother was redundant at that point in your friendship. You had known she was close to suggesting that you should date Johnny, but never in a million years would you have imagined she had it all planned already.

The idea wasn’t outrageous, and the crush you had harbored on him years ago couldn’t have gone unseen by either Sue nor Johnny. But the crush was gone, you weren’t interested anymore; you hadn’t been interested in him for months now.

You looked down at your outfit. You were still wearing your work attire.

“I can wait for you to get changed,” Johnny assured you.

Fuck, you had to let him in now...

Nodding, you motioned for him to enter the apartment. It didn’t take Johnny more than two seconds to catch Victor’s gaze.

“What is he doing here?”

“Well, I could ask the same,” Victor retorted pridefully, as if he hadn’t heard the exchange Johnny and you had seconds earlier.

“I—“ you stuttered. “Victor and I are dating...”

Johnny waited for you to tell him you were joking, staring intensely in search of hints that you were only messing with him like you used to when you were teenagers. But you were being serious, and by the way Victor was standing behind you, both of you were willing to face a confrontation.

“Does he at least treat you right?” You had never heard such a hard tone in Johnny’s voice.

Nodding, you admitted, “Victor makes me happy.”

Johnny didn’t know if he should’ve been annoyed or relieved. He blurted, “Well, thank God — well, not really because Sue tried to set us up and you’re with him and he’s objectively bad.” He turned to look at Victor for a moment before making a gesture with his hands, “but... we’re good friends, and I’m kinda into someone else.”

Placing a hand on Victor’s chest to keep him from attacking Johnny, you asked, “Peter?”

“Peter,” Johnny confirmed.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, it was so obvious that you wondered why they weren’t together yet. Turning serious, you asked, “Are you telling Sue?”

Johnny shook his head. “But I won’t cover for you so tell her soon.”

You were eager to do it as soon as possible yet you were far from looking forward to her reaction. Or Reed’s. Oh, God, what would Ben say?

Johnny gave you a sympathetic smile, as if reading your mind. You patted his shoulder as he announced he would get going, thanking him for being so understanding.

A strange silence lingered between victor and you as soon as the door closed, not uncomfortable but nothing like the peaceful moments you had shared multiple times in silence. It was heavy, and you broke it clumsily.

“That went well...”

Victor clearly didn’t think so. Grabbing him by the waist to gain his attention, you looked up at his frowning face.

“You said you didn’t like him anymore.”

“I don’t.”

“Why would Susan want you to spend time with him then?”

“Johnny and I are close in age,” you guessed, “she must’ve followed that logic.”

Victor winced at the sound of the first three words. It caused a bitter taste to appear in his mouth, probably because his stomach had regurgitated its acids.

You called his name, realizing the comment sounded like you agreed with Sue. He refused to look at you in the eye as he hummed in acknowledgment. “I didn’t mean it that wa—“

Lifting a hand to silence you, Victor nodded. Fighting was pointless now. He rested his hands on your waist, inhaling sharply — your perfume filled his nostrils as his body gave in and ever so slightly slumped.

You continued your explanation, “You heard him, we are good friends, he’s into Peter and I—“ you interrupted yourself, embarrassed by you were milliseconds from confessing.

“And you what?” Victor pressed.

You mumbled, “I’m in love with you.”

He slanted his face in attempts of finding your eyes. You bashfully stared into his warm eyes, forehead twitching in the brink of forming a frown.

“You mean it,” he marveled. You nodded, confused but too scared to ask where did such reaction come from. Victor granted you a smile. “I feel the same.”

You let out a relieved exhale, smiling back at him. He pulled you in, hugging you tightly against his chest. Gripping his hoodie from the back, you nuzzled against his chest, feeling the ripple of the vibration of his deep chuckle.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Doom, Doom, Doom | Victor Von Doom

Pairing: Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: your husband from an arranged marriage accidentally hugs you.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: light angst, arranged marriage, crying, Victor speaks like his dramatic self as he should, mentions (literally only that) of torture, mentions of sex, a sexual innuendo, fluff I think, language probably.

Based off this YouTube video

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Your husband groaned upon facing you. “You’re upset, again?”

You considered not answering him so he wouldn’t hear the hoarseness in your voice or how clogged your nose was, but he hated being ignored. “It’ll pass,” you rasped.

“It better pass.” He turned around and walked toward his standing desk where the prototype for his newest invention laid.

Your bottom lip trembled as you hung your head and attempted to work in your own project. You had been working on the update for the diplomatic doombots for weeks now with no success. A sob escaped you, prompting you to cover your mouth with both hands.

He sighed in annoyance, “If you’re keeping on crying, go somewhere else. You’re making Doom feel... weird.”

Tapping on the button that would save your notes, you scurried off to the laboratory’s exit. Your husband spoke again, “wait!”

You rotated on your spot to not give him your back and stood there in expectancy.

“What is it? The doombots?” Seeing you nod in confirmation, he groaned again, “of course that’s the problem. Doom knew it. Updating them is the easiest task anyone could have. Does Doom have to teach you about Latverian technology again?” His voice somewhat softened as the question slid past his masked face, muffled due to the plate.

He motioned for you to follow his strut toward your desk, instructing you to type in your password. He knew the code, but you had to appreciate the gesture. However, you hesitated on opening the file and he soon found why — the little progress you had made the last time the two of you worked on the project together had been undone, he didn’t know how you had managed to turn it into something worse than the current model.

“How did you— forget it! Doom doesn’t understand, Doom can’t believe this...” your whimpering caught his attention, making him tilt his head so he could look at you. “Don’t cry! Doom can fix it. Doom is however baffled with the results when the only reason Doom married you is your genius intellect.”

His comment made you cry harder. He constantly reminded you that your marriage had been arranged because he had a whim. Victor had been visiting your nation for political reasons and your father had been giving him a tour of your laboratory back home when you met him; your now husband had threatened to take the power away from your father if you didn’t marry him upon finding out your intellect could be a match to his.

He extended his arm, “Doom will fix it right now, stop crying.”

Before you knew what was going on, you were against a hard surface with a heavy and cold metal pressed on your back. As the realization hit, your crying abruptly stopped. Unconsciously but quite happily, you leaned onto the hard surface.

“You’re hugging me,” you marveled, the words escaping your mouth as your giddy brain failed to filter them.

Your husband cleared his throat and faked a cough. “Doom is not. Doom— well... look! There it is, yes!” his armored arms unwrapped from your chubby form. Victor quickly picked up the first tool he found behind you and putting distance between his chest and your face showed it to you, a digital sketch pad, “Doom is after all going to fix the design, yes. Doom—“ he uncharacteristically stuttered, “we will redo it from scratch.”

Giggling, you looked downward at your shoes to try and keep all your burst of emotions in.

“Why are you laughing? You were crying a minute ago! Are you about to have a panic attack?”

You shook your head, trying to stop laughing and failing.

“What is so amusing then? Have you forgotten how much delay we will have on our updated doombots now?”

“I finally got you to hug me.”

“Doom didn’t hug you!” he insisted, “Doom was grabbing the pad.”

Victor got closer to you so you both would be able to see the tactile screen while he projected the model you had ruined against the wall. Pointing at said model, he explained what it was that needed to be completely scrapped.

“Doom doesn’t understand how you could mess up something this easy.”

Feeling guilty for making him lose his time, you confessed, “I ruined it on purpose.”

His head whipped to the side. “Why would anyone ever do that?!” He didn’t let you answer the inquiry and continued speaking, “does Doom need to call a doctor? Maybe Doom should contact Strange after all,” he mused, “Doom must speak with the head cook, they could’ve put something in your meals...”

“It’s the only way you pay attention to me. You even hugged me this time around!”

“Fine,” he defeatedly accepted, “Doom hugged you, so what? You were upset and crying, it bothered Doom.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is the point, my queen?” He mocked you by using your title.

He was so exasperating sometimes! How could he not see you felt lonely when he couldn’t even speak about himself in first person while in your presence? You didn’t have anyone but him, and when you two weren’t fighting or having sex, he didn’t bother speaking to you — you didn’t even know if he found you attractive or if it was the accessibility what prompted him to have intercourse with you. It wasn’t fair.

Your mouth felt dry all of the sudden. You had to actually tell him all of that, but it wasn’t easy. Victor had never been violent towards you, but you had seen his torture methods.

“I didn’t choose this,” you dared to answer him, it was now or never, “you only pay attention to me when I cry or when we fight, sex is a chore, I don’t have friends, all my days are spent in a laboratory or in a court... I need love! At least some attention. I’m human, Victor.”

The tension fogged the room, thicker than the curtains hiding what you could only imagine to be a beautiful sunset. He took his mask off, the clank of the metal against the floor making you jump.

You had thought he would say something, but he continued undoing his armor, hurriedly and not caring how much noise the metal pieces made as they fell onto the floor.

His warm hands sent shivers down your spine upon making contact with your shoulders. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands sliding up to rest on his biceps. It was without a single doubt the most intimate moment you had shared with Victor. You were scared of it not being real.

“I will do better, my queen,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your neck to pull you in. “I isolate you to protect you, you know how many enemies we have. I trust you with my laboratory, with my nation, with my life.”

You fully leaned against his chest this time, nodding against his shirt. “I get frustrated sometimes, that’s all.”

Victor hummed in acknowledgment. He let a moment of silence to be cast upon you, mulling over his thoughts. Determined on actually doing better because Victor Von Doom always kept his promises, his embrace tightened. “I do love you,” he confessed, it was the first time he told you those three words. “I simply fail to show it.”

“I do love you too,” you assured him. “I never thought I would but here I am.”

Chuckling, he lowered his hand to your ass where he let it rest. “Why don’t we do something productive and show it to each other? I’m sure from now on it won’t be a chore.”

Lifting your head off his chest, you craned your neck to cover his mouth with yours as an answer.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Home | Victor Von Doom

Pairing: Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Request: Can you write something with victor doom? It can be holiday themed or not I don’t care

Summary: your flatmate hates the holidays so he doesn’t celebrate them. You have to go home for said holidays, but maybe home isn’t where you thought it was. Modern AU.

Warnings: slight mentions of fat-shaming, mutual pining, shitty family members, kissing, slight fluff.

A/N: this was fun to write, I don’t think anyone will like it but I enjoyed it.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

Victor had rolled his eyes for the hundredth time a certain afternoon. He didn’t see the point of decorating the apartment for Christmas when he wasn’t even Christian and when you wouldn’t spend the holidays there.

He remembered crossing the living room to enter the kitchen, the sound of your humming making him wonder why had he agreed to live with you in the first place. Contrary to everyone’s belief, you two were just friends. He tolerated you the best, though, his spectrum normally went from you being the easiest person to deal with to Reed being an utter pain in the ass, Tony fell in the perfect middle.

He had heard that stupid carol you were humming so often lately that he had it stuck in his head when you weren’t around. In retrospective, it was the least annoying of the carols and he should be thankful that you weren’t obsessed with the same Christmas songs Stark was. Tony’s taste in music sucked in general, but not even Steve could put up with his weird Christmas themed tastes.

Snatching an apple from the basket, he had leaned onto the counter to watch you from afar. Your chubby form stretched to hang ornaments on the tree was amusing, he had offered to pay someone to do it but you told him that wasn’t the point. He didn’t care for the point, or for holidays in general, the only reason he hadn’t fought you on the topic of ornaments around the house was that he was trying to be nicer and he knew he had to start at home.

Home, he had never had one. Not until you two started working at the same company and bonded over your hatred of overly sweet desserts at a work party. None of you were happy with the place you were living in but it was what you could afford at the time, upon touching the subject you had the idea of being flatmates. Victor had been skeptical at first, but the idea became less annoying when you offered to make a list of pros and cons.

Now the apartment didn’t feel like home, the Christmas tree was adorned perfectly— he even admitted it looked pretty. The gifts you bought him were around it, yet he found himself preferring for you to have been there. He would trade all the gifts of the world for you. You, the person who not once had ever judged him or considered him weird.

Flipping on the tv channels, he groaned every time something Christmas themed appeared which was too often. He was starting to regret telling Tony he would be busy or telling you he was sure he didn’t want to go with you to visit your family. Victor switched the cable programming for Netflix and distracted himself by searching for something to watch, not by watching it because he was indecisive.

Taking his phone, he started typing. His thumb hovered over the send button before deciding that there was deciding wrong with what he was saying.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

You were listening to your mom complain about everything you hadn’t accomplished in life when your cellphone buzzed in your coat pocket. Withdrawing it, you felt your stomach churn for some reason.

Do you have a recommendation for a NON-CHRISTMAS movie on Netflix?

Just re-watch The Office like any normal human being.

Locking the device, you turned your physical attention back to your mom and dad although your mental one was far away. It was back at home, where Victor was probably sprawled on the couch wearing that soft-looking sweatshirt that made him look so damn approachable with a scowl on his face because he didn’t find anything worth his time on Netflix.

The first time you watched a movie with him had been somehow the best and worst experience of your life, he complained about everything and had stupidly high standards. He did that in general too, but you weren’t too different— however, you loved crappy movies.

Another notification broke through your phone. You found yourself eagerly unlocking it to reply.

Are you calling me average?

You chuckled. The truth was you could call Victor many things, average would never be one.

That’s exactly what I’m calling you.

The three dots signaling he was already typing an answer appeared immediately on your screen, making you miss him even more.

You really missed him, how interesting he was, how respectful of your boundaries. Victor had given you in six months the respect your family hadn’t in your entire life, he was supportive in his own way, he hadn’t once made a crude comment about your weight or judged your body type, he listened to you when you needed him, and if he couldn’t help you he would tell you so openly and honestly

“(y/n), are you listening to me?”

You shook your head at your mom’s question without even thinking.

“You never listen to me, that’s why—“ your mom sighed when your phone dinged again. “Tell whoever is interrupting your quality family time to quit it or I will throw that phone through the window.”

Would Lightning McQueen buy car insurance or life insurance?

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from cackling.

Who are you and what have you done with Victor Von Doom? Also, are you watching Cars?

Perhaps.

You tried to imagine him watching Cars, the annoyed sighs that would leave his lips every few seconds, the smartass comments he would make regarding how the world in the movie functioned... it would be funny, and way better than seeing your family glare at you like you had done something wrong.

You had arrived three days ago and the entire time they had thrown every critique that came to their minds at you. They found the fact that you didn’t have a partner insulting, constantly comparing the lives of other family members to yours; they hated your line of work, they explicitly told you you should lose weight and insinuated you would finally be happy that way.

But you were happy. When you were not around them.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

Unceasing knocking woke Victor up, his neck was rigid and his lower back hurt like a bitch. The TV had turned itself off, he didn’t know what time was it and he didn’t care because the knocking was getting louder.

Fixing his hair as he walked toward the door he fiddled with the lock so whoever was knocking would stop. As he swung the entrance open, he couldn’t hide his shock.

“What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head sideways, “I live here?”

He rolled his eyes, moving to the side so you would get inside. You didn’t bother to carry your belongings to your room, not yet. Victor repeated his question.

“I didn’t feel comfortable.”

He hummed, entering the kitchen to put the kettle on. From there, he spoke some more. “So what will you do on Christmas Eve?”

You followed him, leaning on the wall to watch him. His movements usually calmed you in a very weird way. “Annoy you, I think.”

With his hands flat on the counter, he craned his neck to look at you. “How are you going to annoy me? That’s pretty vague.” There was a hint of teasing in his voice, something he reserved for you, he trusted you that much.

You annoyed him with icing cookies and Christmas carols, you made him watch The Grinch and laughed when he agreed with him, you kept the tree lit up the entire day, and you actually made his favorite dish for dinner to not be an asshole. You wanted him to enjoy himself that day too, to find the holidays at least tolerable no matter the type of holiday it was. You knew he never had something similar and it broke your heart.

Putting two glasses of eggnog down onto the coffee table, you sat down on your favorite side of the couch. Victor glared at you, dying to get rid of the ugly sweater you had bought just for him. He had said it was a waste of money, but you saw him hide his laugh.

You were watching Nightmare Before Christmas, Victor insisted it was a Christmas movie and who were you to argue with that? His eyes would shift from the screen to your side profile, catching the twitches on your face when a scene you enjoyed was playing.

There were things he liked too much about you, details he observed in you that he didn’t care for in anyone else. He was unsure about you thinking the same of him, Tony being his helpful self told him a few weeks ago to simply tell you— yet it was far from simple.

He wasn’t being self-deprecating, and he knew he was attractive so he wasn’t scared of rejection because of any type of insecurity and more because you two were flatmates, close friends— was ruining that worth it? Hearing you sing Kidnap The Sandy Claws under your breath, he told himself it was more prone to be worth it.

Victor paused the movie, to hell with subtlety. “Hey!” you complained, glaring at him, “you chose the movie, remember?”

He nodded, “you don’t annoy me, you know?”

“Thanks?” you laughed at the, oh so funnily ironic, annoyance clear in his face. “You don’t annoy me either, Victor.”

He considered the possibility of you playing with him to not acknowledge the meaning of what he had said then immediately discarded it when you continued to gaze at him. “I like you, (y/n).”

“Did Tony pay you to be this emotional or is— oh!” You felt like an idiot for undermining the meaning of his comment at first, it wasn’t until you opened your mouth that you saw the shift in his eyes while waiting to see your reaction.

Oh, wow, now you needed to say something before he thought you were rejecting him. Had you even understood him clearly? Did he mean it as a friend? He had never told you he liked you before! Victor didn’t like people, he either tolerated or despised them— it was one of the things you found so interesting about him.

“When you say like, do you mean it as in ‘I don’t want to kill you in your sleep’ or ‘I would literally kill for you’?“ you half-joked to not embarrass yourself in case he didn’t mean it past something platonic. “Those two are kind of two opposites of the liking spectrum so you should probably consider it, maybe?”

Victor exhaled heavily. “Both, honestly.”

Mouth bobbing open and closed, you fully faced him. “You don’t sound convinced...”

“You’re a little annoying, actually, and doing that thing that everyone finds funny but for some reason I find attractive.”

“Ask a question?”

“Talk too much.” You pursed your lips, nodding. He got closer to you on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. “This is when you tell me you like me back.”

Nodding again, you got closer to him to narrow the space still existing between his and your thighs. “I like you too, and you’re a little annoying too.”

He hummed, the tip of his tongue coming out to lubricate his lips. “I should’ve let you buy that mistletoe, shouldn’t I?”

You giggled, taking him by the neck to place your lips on top of his. Victor reacted quickly, twisting his body to hug you by the middle as the kiss continued. He was so warm, his familiar smell hitting your nostrils as it mixed with the cinnamon-apple air freshener you sprayed earlier actually warming you in the inside. Soft sighs escaped you both, oxygen getting more needed as the seconds passed. You need to breathe properly as much as you wanted to continue kissing him— realizing that, he pulled away enough for you both to catch your breaths.

His hand skimmed the right side of your torso, the other still placed on your back. The way he was looking at you felt more intimate than anything else you had shared with someone before him, maybe because he wasn’t too touchy-feely or maybe because you liked him too much to not appreciate it. He granted you a smile, so charming and so rare, making you smile back. Victor sighed, the warmth of his breath hitting your face, he truly felt home now, peacefully so.

You kissed his nose, one of your hands moving up to play with his soft hair. “Do you still hate the holidays?”

He snorted. Home or not, the holidays weren’t his cup of tea. “Yes.”

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

For Your Own Good | Victor von Doom

✦ pairing — Victor Von Doom x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 900-ish

✦ request — i was hoping if you could do a plus sized reader on their period, always have bad cramps & maybe victor could make it all better?

✦ warnings — mentions of food, a tiny bit of comedy, Victor is petty but loving, fluff.

════════════════════════

You scrolled down your phone, looking for something that caught your eye and finally drove you to switch to another TV show.

The one playing on the flatscreen bored you half an hour ago, and you weren’t about to move to go back to the menu where you would have to make a choice.

The door was softly pushed open. It could only be Victor or a servant, and by the weight of the steps against the carpet, it was your partner.

He set a tray on the bedside table, prompting you to lock your phone and look up at him. Since when did he carry trays to the bedroom?

He knew you well, he could read your body language and every little nuance in your face. “I brought you food, my love.”

“I don’t wanna move.”

“It’s soup,” he said, as though the fact that it was soup would automatically make you change your mind.

Victor placed your lap desk on the empty side of the bed —his side— and caressed your cheek with his knuckles. “I’ll help you sit up.”

“I don’t need soup, Victor!”

He sighed. “It’s nutritious and hydrating.”

“It’s hot, I don’t want hot soup.”

“Stay here.”

As if you had any desire to move. You picked your phone up again and continued idly scrolling down the same app.

Victor was back rather quickly, with a bigger bowl in his grasp.

He held the big bowl between his forearm and chest and took the bowl of soup with his other hand. Slowly, he set the bowl of soup inside the big bowl.

The sound of the ceramic setting against ice made you drop your phone and sit up. He rested the bowls on the bedside table and offered you a spoon. “Let me—"

“Victor... oh my God.” You twisted your body and pulled the bowl of soup out of the ice. “Are you crazy?”

“You didn’t want hot soup.”

”You’re so petty.”

Victor set your lap desk on your lap and gently took the bowl of soup from your grasp to set it on the desk. He reached for the napkin and cutlery in the tray and offered them to you.

Resigned, you took the napkin and unrolled it. Dropping the spoon in the bowl of soup, you set the napkin on your thigh.

“I could spoon-feed you...”

“I’m not a child.”

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate you were one.”

He sat across from you, making you company in silence. His intense gaze couldn't be counted as silence, not to you — the worry in his gaze felt heavy and you almost snorted. It wasn't the first time you had your period around him; it wouldn't be the last.

The soup was delicious, you would mention it to the chef later. You refused to swallow your pride and tell Victor so, yet you couldn't possibly be ungrateful. "Thank you," you mumbled. “Can I lay down again?”

Frowning, he stood up and moved the lap desk away. “Are the cramps that bad?”

“Yeah. I took painkillers earlier, but you know...”

His low hum let you know he would say something you wouldn't like. “Would you like to take a walk?”

It would be good for you, walks were little blessings most of the time, but realistically, who wanted to go on a walk when they were on their period? Certainly not you. “Later?”

He was happy it wasn’t a no. “May I lay down with you?”

“Yes.”

He took off layers of clothing and his shoes, softly sitting on the bed. His attempt to not disturb you was endearing, but you would have understood if he moved more.

“Would you like a massage?”

“I just ate...”

He hummed. “I'll just put my arms around you, then.”

You could work with that. Leaning into his touch, you found the warmth of his embrace soothing.

It would be his fault if you fell asleep yet you didn’t voice such a thing so he wouldn’t stop you from taking a nap.

"Where's your heating pad?"

You whined. "I don't know."

"Love..." He withdrew his arms from your body, making you whine again —this time louder—, and swiftly left the bed.

You followed him with your eyes, wondering what he was up to.

He opened and closed drawers, huffing to himself and mumbling things under his breath. "Ha," he exclaimed once he found what he was looking for.

His broad back didn't let you see what it was, but you didn't need to be a Victor-level genius to know it was a heating pad. It couldn't be yours, though.

"Good thing I bought two," he said in a chastising tone as he plugged the heating pad into the outlet between the bed and your bedside table.

You looked away from him. "I think I left it at my mom's."

"It's fine," he assured you, handing you the control so you'd set your preferred level of heat.

Victor came back to bed, laying on his side as he caressed your arm. "You need to stay active once the cramps get better," he reminded you. "It's for your own good."

With a sigh, you admitted, "I know."

He kissed your arm before getting closer to you. "May I hold you?"

"You don't have to ask."

He draped his arm over your front, careful not to touch the heating pad, while his other forearm rested near the back of your head against your pillow.

"Was your day okay?" you asked.

"Would you like to hear about it?"

You hummed. "I might fall asleep, but yes."

"That's the idea," he softly said.

You both met your end of the deal, he went on and on about everything he did and you fell asleep with your back against his chest, soothed by his voice and the heat from the pad.