#dottore fic

no i feel u soooooo bad 🤤🤤🤤🤤 i cant wait for his boss to come out so i can do it every night before bed

dubious consent warning!

ugh just the idea of him grasping you in larger than life hands and claiming what is rightfully his after your fight... you're left broken and bloody as you're scooped up, barely left with the resolution to fight back against the god that defeated you!!! you can only hang limp in his hold while he pushes his thick cock inside you :(( and it's just so shattering, especially with the pace he immediately takes! you think he would go slow?

god forbid you try to squirm (if you even have the strength left to) because he'll just laugh and go harder. there's really nowhere you can go anyways, do you realize how pathetic you look? aw, it's a shame you can't answer his questions past the whines and moans he's wrenching from your broken vocal chords, voice shot from the viciousness of the battle prior. the situation is just so demeaning, especially when you recognize the warmth in your stomach from a nearing orgasm :( your body betrays you so easily and you can only weep at the explosion and his refusal to stop.

dottore is a god and will be treated as such. maybe today will serve as a lesson for you when you crawl back to him next week. do not look, speak, or move without his permission, and maybe he'll let you take what you want. what a shame you just always try to fight, though it doesn't put him out too much. dottore likes making you submit - he likes fighting you until your weak arms can't even hold your sword off the ground. the defiant look in your eyes every week almost makes him want to take pity, but it's much more fun making you break.

[Dottore x Reader]

heh this is a one shot so be cautious of any mistakes traveler!

Summary: a late night attempt of affection to your distant harbinger husband.

Frost laced the windows of the bedroom, the whole space dim and dull, the only source of light was the soft glow of the moon above. There was naught but ashes in the fireplace, not a single candle lit or lamp to fill your and Dottore's shared room with warmth. It was frigid, and your thin silken robe and solitary blanket was of no help.

hands trembling, you reached out to the harbinger whom you called your fiancée, a guarded man who had a sweet spot for you. Right?

You listened to his tenfolds of plans and schemes and tended dearly to him and his projects, in exchange for what could be deluded as affection.

The second the tip of your index finger made contact with Dottore's back you were met with a whip of blue hair then sharp red eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dottore hissed. You could see his disapproving scowl even in the darkness.

Not an uncharacteristic reaction from your dearest.

"It's so cold.." you said softly, meeting his glower with a pair of melancholy eyes. "..I was merely seeking warmth my love."

"It is not your affection I seek, woman."

It was times like this that made you wonder if Dottore even cared for you.

It was all the accumulative times like this that made you increasingly desperate for his attention.

You exhaled, closing your eyes for a few seconds, and tried to interact with your fiancée again.

"It's been a long day, hm?"

Silence answered you.

You hated the silence that constantly enveloped you when you were with him.

"Pantalone mentioned you were working on some lightning prisms—"

A large scarred hand clamped around your mouth and irritated crimson eyes met your tired (eyecolour) ones.

Dottore glared at you with his brows knit tightly.

He was appalled by your inability to take a hint. He did not want to be poked at and annoyed during prime ruminating hours, or any hour for that matter.

You were startled, but at your core you weren't shocked.

"It's 12am, I advise that you rest your mouth." He seethed, only inches away from your face.

There was a lump in your throat that couldn't quite be swallowed, and a burn behind your eyes that you ignored.

Pushing off of the spot directly beside your head, Dottore grunted as he left your bed, storming off towards the balcony with a book.

Your fiancee left the door ajar, and you felt a wave of chills ripple across your body.

With bleary vision, you pulled the thin blanket over your face leaving your legs somewhat exposed to the frosty air.

Perhaps you pushed him too far tonight; perhaps tomorrow night he'll accept your affections like he did in the earlier days.

- Dottore values his work sm more than the reader

- The readers neglected and not in a good place

- Dottores like deranged (shocker)

- The readers goodbye gift is burning his work and papers with her inside the building too

Please help yall🥹

I remember eating it UP like 4 years ago

~Legend~

fluff- 🌕

angst-🌑

angst to fluff-🌒

fluff to angst-🌘

💫Dottore

1. Cold Shoulder 🌑

a late night with your distant fiancee

Cyno had returned from the desert briefly, feeling unrest settle in his veins. There were whispers in the wind, rumors in fact. And while rumors would consist of lies, all of them start from something. The base, the truth. It happens those rumors consist of a certain expelled scholar.

aAaaa this is a whole 1000+ more words then my usual oneshots holy crap, aAaaa