
(Sorry)
You lift Dottore's mask slightly, pressing your lips against his with a slow, deliberate motion. His hands move to your neck, pulling you into the kiss as if you're the only thing grounding him. The warmth of his tongue against yours sends a shiver down your spine as your hands glide down his sides, feeling the firm lines of his body beneath the fabric.
“Hehe… Do you treat all your subjects like this?” you murmur, sliding your hands beneath his top, rolling it up slowly to reveal his chest.
His smirk remains, cool and collected. “You're the first to find such joy in being here,” he replies. “But hurry up. The cleaning team will arrive any minute.”
You glance at him, hands pausing just under his mask. “I don’t think I can wait.”
Taking off his mask, you finally have a look at his face. His red eyes pierce through you, glowing faintly with an unsettling intensity. For a moment, it feels as if those crimson irises are analyzing your every thought, your every movement.
"Hehe, surprised?" The Doctor grins, revealing his sharp teeth. You had assumed this man was just a brilliant scientist, but seeing those eyes...
"Ah... you're pretty impressive~," you compliment him cheerfully, planting soft kisses over his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.
His expression falters for a second, as though genuine affection is foreign to him. But before either of you can act further—
KNOCK KNOCK
“SIR DOTTORE? WE’VE COME TO CLEAN UP.”
Dottore chuckles, slipping away from your grasp with ease. “Too slow,” he teases, adjusting his mask and clothing before striding to the door.
“Damn it,” you mutter under your breath, sitting on the edge of the table, frustrated at the interruption.
The cleaning crew enters without question, gathering the remains with a practiced efficiency. The sterile, mechanical nature of it all makes the room feel even colder. No one acknowledges the mess you've made of the room… or the stains of your earlier activities.
You glance at Dottore. “What happens to him now?” you ask, still irritated by the interruption.
“He’ll be recycled. Organs stored, eyeballs sold to collectors,” Dottore says nonchalantly. “His death was inevitable. Unlike you, his enhancements were temporary.”
The conversation carries on in the background, as you listen to Dottore's pride in his scientific achievements. It’s strange, but hearing him speak about his work with such enthusiasm makes you feel... something. Satisfaction, perhaps. Or maybe it’s just another layer of your growing attachment to him.
...
Once the room is cleared and silence falls again, Dottore crouches, inspecting a bloodstain. “We don’t want this to mold,” he mutters to himself.
Worrying aboht mold... It is somehow adorable of him. A bit of a suprise that this man isn't afraid to make such a giant mess out of the laboratory, then to have a whole crew that would clean it up sparkingly blank afterwards.
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
Once the cleaners left
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
You step back into the freshly cleaned test room, inhaling deeply, the sharp scent of disinfectant filling your lungs like a bitter reminder of what just transpired.
Your hair has dried by now, but the chill in the air makes you shiver. To keep warm, you wrap yourself in a white coat that had been carelessly left around the lab. The fabric feels stiff against your skin, and you cross your arms tightly over your chest, trying to regain some sense of control over your otherwise nude body.
YOU ARE READING
-PURGATORY-: Il Dottore X Male Reader, GORE & SMUT
FanfictionYou wake up in Dottore's lab, destined to become another of his subjects. While he is working on a powerful medicine that shall allow the vessel immortality, you find yourself being part of some of his most gruesome experiments, pain and gore becomi...
