So, I think many of us are in mutual agreement about the idea of wanting the choice to agree with Dottore and begin working with him in light of recent lore events.
self indulgent bullshit below
What I think would happen in this instance, at least, is that he would have to succeed in breaking through your walls first. If we're in the point of view where we are the traveler/something similar, we're living it for the first time.
He'd sweet talk you first. He's studied your patterns, the way you respond to people, the interactions you avoid. After capturing you in one of his energy fields and creating his illusion, he lets you rage. He lets you try to strike him, but doesn't strike you back.
He'd look at you and tilt his head, his expression almost sympathetic as he addresses you. Once you've calmed down enough to listen to him, he points out the holes.
Your friends, your good deeds, your journey, everything you do to be given absolutely nothing in return for your main journey, for what you want. You've been working tirelessly for those who couldn't be bothered to ask you what you need help with, what you need consoling for.
People expect your help, expect your sword to draw against every enemy of theirs without faltering.
He watches your face slowly crumble as his words hit, stinging right where he wants you to feel it. You had a world full of friends, yet...he was right. What had anyone ever done for you to return the favors you've been giving out so charitably? Was the only point of your presence in Teyvat to serve its people like a mule?
He steps closer, and his knowing grin softening into a gentle, warm expression. He reaches out to you. You flinch but he catches your chin between his fingers anyway.
If you were to assist him in his own goals, he could bring you to your own in time so insignificant that It makes your entire journey feel meaningless.
He's offering his hand, his resources, his centuries old mind that knows things about Teyvat that no one else does.
He brings his other hand to his face and slowly removes his mask, tosses it to the side. A pair of striking red eyes meet your own, scarred and subtly aged skin not bothering to hide the time it's spent in this place.
You don't sense malice. Not really. He has his own goals, but he does not wish to sabotage you. Not even when he gets what he wants.
You don't pull away from him.
In fact, you start to cry.
As much as you loathed to admit it, he was right. About everything.
He let the choice stand there between you. Leave this place with him, let him nurture your power, bring you to the final destination of your journey if you will it so, or become his enemy once more right where you stand.
Your decision did not come from fear. It came from a deep, bone-aching exhaustion.
Running Into his arms felt easier than you'd expected, and he caught you. He caught you when no one else had been there to break your fall.
Warm arms enveloped your body and praised your decision and promised you a life of success and finally making progress in a journey that seemed unending.
When he felt the tension was just right, he went in for the kill and finally kissed you.
His lips were unbelievably soft, commanding, but not overbearing. It was the kind of dominance that provided safety. Your cheeks burned as intensely as your heart pounded, still processing the choice you'd made. Now, leaving everything behind, you were starting a new pursuit with The Doctor.
The fact that you'd teleported elsewhere hadn't even registered with you until you opened your eyes. You assumed it to be one of his multiple domains, perhaps a place to hide you away from prying hands until he needed you to do your part for him.
His gentleness still hadn't faltered, watching you dotingly with your reluctance to let him go. He didn't force you to.
The heat had been so intense, it seemed, that you were overwhelmed with the prospect of proving your allegiance here and now, to which a carefully guiding hand navigated you.
His kisses were still soft and careful, still treating you like delicate, dainty porcelain. Soft sheets hit your back before you knew you were moving.
He undressed you like he was unwrapping a velvet box with a precious jewel, keeping you latched to the moment with words that seeped straight into your soul with their sweetness, making a syrupy mess of who you thought you were.
Overcome by the want to please him, you rolled over, guiding him to hit against the headboard of the bed whilst you lay between his legs, she sheer size of his length casting a shadow over your face.
You wrapped your lips around the tip, letting the weight rest on your tongue as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, soaking in the feeling of having him like this. You wanted to be docile to someone else by choice for a change.
You didn't bother to rush it, letting more and more of him enter your mouth each time you lowered your head. His hand tangled in your hair, gripping the back of your head gently to guide you.
You moaned around his shaft, the vibration earning a small noise from him too.
Between his legs like this, bringing pleasure to the one that stopped sugarcoating your life and gave you what you actually needed from this world, you felt worshipful. Why wouldn't you revel in such a beautiful man's divinity like this? You felt incredibly lucky to be the one sucking him off like this.
His praises came in a slurry of sighs and occasional grunts, the muscles in his thighs twitching as his high crept up on him from the base of his spine and flooding your mouth with his essence, which you swallowed gratefully.
Still, he wished to break you in properly.
His skin was so warm, and with him suddenly on top of you, it felt like the softest embrace. Hands repositioned you, thighs over his hips, hands locked in his.
His mouth was a weapon of beauty, lips that had lured you here now sucking deep marks into your neck, your collarbone. His hips rolled slowly against yours, coaxing himself back to full hardness while you gasped and whined underneath him. Sounds he'd been yearning to hear for some time.
He'd really never meant to spy on you pleasing yourself whilst he was spying on you; it just sort of happened. The sounds you made while your hand toyed with yourself in ways that never left you fully satisfied made his chest ache with the need to fix that issue for you.
You only had inns, camps, and that teapot you carried on you to make do with. You didn't have a home to flourish in, to test the limits of your own body in a safe, unchanging place.
He bestowed that upon you to.
Feeling his tip push past your entrance for the first time filled you with an all consuming gratitude that knocked the air out of your lungs, your thighs tightening around him as he bottomed out.
What would your comrades think of you, getting nailed into the mattress by the man that you'd all sworn to end? Now, though, you supposed they weren't really your comrades anymore. Not when Dottore was dicking you down this good.
His fingers remained wrapped tightly around yours as his thrusts grew in fervor, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall each time he surged his hips forward, hitting the spots you couldn't hope to reach with your fingers alone.
You were unashamed of your own moans, vehemently aware of how you were loudly falling apart beneath him. Whoever might be around to hear, you didn't much care. His own groans of approval kept you anchored obsessively. Your body's ability to please him like this felt more rewarding than any mission or conquest you'd taken out of the goodness in your heart.
His hips stuttered at the same time as your stomach coiled tight, and the explosive release left you both trembling. You clenched around him in time with his release filling you, earning broken moans from him that only made you fall deeper into bliss.
He even went out of his way to love on you after the fact, keeping you warm and safe enough not to question what came next. If the price of The Doctor's love was your power and influence, you had an infinite amount of it to spare. Laying in his arms now, you didn't mind expending yourself to dust if it meant having this. Having him.
