Fluff, angst, character x Reader (Y/n)
NO SMUT
*Cover is not mine, I found it on Pinterest*
*None of the pictures are mine either, I found them all on Pinterest*
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Female reader
TW ⚠️: Overworked Dottore Fluff, kinda short, not proofread
Dottore was tucked away in his lab, engrossed in his research and experiments for a change—though the sarcasm in that statement wasn't lost on me, as he seemed perpetually chained to his work.
I didn't mind his dedication; after all, it granted me an abundance of free time to pursue my own interests. However, my concern with his relentless commitment was rooted in the fact that he neglects basic self-care: meals go unprepared, sleep becomes a distant memory, and showers remain nothing but an afterthought.
My worry churned within me like a storm cloud hovering overhead, always reminding me of how little attention he pays to himself amidst his tireless pursuits.
Eventually, I reached my breaking point—I could no longer stand idly by while he sacrificed his well-being for the sake of science.
With determination coursing through my veins, I made my way into the kitchen and set about preparing a beautiful tray laden with all of Dottore's favorite foods, hoping to coax him away from his workbench long enough to remind him of the simple pleasures he so desperately needed—and perhaps even draw him back into some semblance of balance between labor and life.
I approached his lab, a space brimming with the scent of chemicals and the faint hum of machinery, and gently rapped my knuckles against the door.
"What do you want? I have no time for this," he snapped impatiently as soon as I knocked, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the stillness of the room.
As I grasped the handle and pushed open the door to his lab, I stepped inside with an air of confidence that suggested not just familiarity, but a sense of purpose. My strides echoing softly against the polished floor, my gaze swept across the cluttered workspace filled with intriguing inventions and bubbling experiments.
Dottore was seated at his cluttered desk, one hand cradling his forehead while the other rested wearily on his cheek; scattered piles of paperwork loomed around him like an impending storm that threatened to engulf him whole.
"Not even for your own wife?" I replied, daring to challenge his icy demeanor.
It took a moment before he lifted his gaze from the chaotic sea of documents that demanded more than just attention—it devoured what little patience he had left.
Finally, despite every intention to maintain a facade of cold indifference towards everyone surrounding him, my presence proved irresistible; it was impossible not to feel something soften within him at the sight of me—a mere flicker of warmth beneath layers built on distance and detachment.
"I suppose I have time." "You better. Here. Eat. Now."
I insisted with a firm expression, placing the tray overflowing with all his favorite snacks carefully on his desk while being extra cautious to ensure that no chemicals accidentally spilled from their containers.
"It's important for you to eat something, especially with all the work you're doing."
Dottore cast a piercing glance in my direction, one that unmistakably conveyed the unspoken message of, 'I have no need to eat.' as if his very being was immune to hunger's call.
"Dottore, I'm warning you. Either you eat and I leave you alone, or you eat and stop working for the night. I'm fine with either. It's your choice."
With a muffled grumble that was barely intelligible, Dottore sighed in frustration before his gaze fell hungrily upon the delectable piece of cake resting enticingly on the tray, prompting him to snatch it up with an eager hand. "Fine. I'll eat this. Now go, I'm still working."
I let out a weary sigh as he redirected his focus back to the unending tasks before him.
"Dottore," I murmured softly, placing my hand gently on his shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort, though he flinched slightly at the sensation of my touch.
"Please, baby, you need to get some sleep. You're incredibly jumpy; it's clear that exhaustion is taking its toll on you. When was the last time you allowed yourself even a moment's rest?"
His crimson irises locked onto mine, radiant even against his mask; within them, I discerned both exhaustion and an unwavering resolve to accomplish his task. I settled onto the adjacent desk and clasped his hands in my own.
"Dottore, honey. Please come to bed." My voice was soft and pleading, wanting desperately for him to rest.
After what felt like an eternity filled with heavy silence, during which Dottore's gaze drifted thoughtfully from my eyes to the neatly organized papers scattered across his desk, as if he were weighing the gravity of his next decision or contemplating the repercussions of each possible course of action, he finally gave a slow but deliberate nod.
I gently urged him to rise, guiding him to stand up slowly and cautiously. As soon as he found his footing and took a hesitant step forward, he lost his balance and began to stumble. Reacting swiftly, I caught him just in time before he could sustain any injury, draping his arm over my shoulders to provide both support and stability as we moved together into the uncertain depths ahead.
"Let's get you to bed." "Y/n?" "Yes?" "Thank you." "That's why I'm here, Dottore. Now let's get to sleep."
A/n Another Dottore one, cause I love and hate him at the same time. Sorry this is so short, I ran out of inspiration, plus I need to study.
