Work Text:
Il Dottore. An ill-fitting name for an ill fitting man. He's... Eccentric, yes. But even that feels like a generalized statement, as if there's still so much to be said about him. He's dangerous, selfish, prideful, and so much more. Morality is lost on him.
And for certain, it's become less and less impactful on you. But this is different, right? You're not as depraved, not as filthy. You're a nice person, with a good head on your shoulders and a heart that's responsive to the trials and tribulations of those around you. You could never sink to his level.
You, who loves easily and cares what others think about you. You, who puts up with him, simply because he's the last person who has shown you any kind of attention. Pathetic, isn't it? Time and time again, the thought has crossed your mind; Just leave, he's bad for you.
Just leave, he wouldn't care. Why do you want him to care anyways? So you can keep clinging to him, having him toy with you while you blissfully pretend to be none the wiser, pretending he can change? So you can free yourself from sinking further and further into his abyss of depravity and corruption? No, no. That's not it.
That's nonsensical, thoughts born of your dissatisfaction. Your self-consciousness wanting to believe you're someone worth chasing after. And...
Even if that all were true, you're still the one who keeps coming back.
You're the one who's walking down these endlessly empty corridors for the thousandth time, you're the one who's so quickly wiped away the hot tears that spilled onto your cheeks, the only one who has to hear the echoing of your own steps as you speed walk down the poorly lit corridors. Anxiety and anger take root in your heart, but mixed in is just the slightest tinge of relief. It's enough to bring more tears to the corners of your eyes, but you shake your head and continue, the only sound to accompany the rhythm of your footsteps being the beating of your heart in your chest and the droning hum of the overhead lights.
And then you reach the door. Your hand reaches out, hesitating before the warmth of your flesh ever makes contact with the cool metal of the knob. Now that you've finally stopped moving, every sensation comes rushing at you at once. A shaky breath escapes your lips, one that you didn't realize you had been holding in all this time.
The silence is deafening, your heart races with anticipation, and your stomach twists in a knot.
You've come this far, why back down now?
You take one final breath and twist the knob, pushing the door inwards without bothering to knock.
The laboratory is still so familiar to you, so fresh in your mind despite it being months since you last stepped foot in it. The tables, covered in heaps of paper and various tubes filled with different reagents. The shelves, lined with boxes upon boxes of mechanical parts and wires, some strewn about the floor as if they were hastily tossed aside to find something more valuable. Something worth his time. You shake the thought from your mind again, walking further in. The cool air makes you shiver ever so slightly, but it's nothing compared to the sensation you get when you see him again. No, this sensation is chilling.
His back remains facing you, not a single sound coming from his person as he busies himself with his work. You'd have to be the first to speak. That's how it is, how it's always been. You've always been second place to his research. Even then, what could you say? You had a choice to avoid him, but here you are, your lips already parting, your tongue moving faster than your brain can work, a stream of emotionally charged words already spilling out. Oh, how you wish you had just kept your mouth shut. You could've left with your dignity intact, too.
"You've got some nerve, Zandik." You speak, your words icy. A pause fills the air, and he finally puts down whatever he's been working with to at least address your presence.
He turns around, never once rising from his seat, giving you a once-over before allowing you to continue. As you do, the faintest traces of a smile can be seen on his lips, tugging at the corners of his mouth. Red eyes watch you with feigned interest, before he cuts you off mid-speech.
"You're blowing this out of proportion. Do you realize how deranged you sound?"
That sends you into stunned silence. You weren't expecting that. You didn't think you sounded crazy. You were upset, and justifiably so.
"I'm not deranged, Zandik. I'm trying to-"
He waves a hand dismissively, cutting you off again.
"And there it is again. You're using that tone on me. You're too emotionally charged, dear." He speaks nonchalantly, as if this were a conversation about the weather or something equally menial. This time, he stands up, crossing the room to stand just in front of you.
"Honestly, you're not making any sense. Why don't you just listen to me and go to bed? You'll feel much better and we can laugh about this all in the morning."
He coos, reaching out to stroke your arm. Reflexively, you pull away from him, a scowl now present on your features.
"No. Hell no. There isn't going to be a tomorrow. I'm done!"
There, you had said it. The words that had been weighing so heavily on your mind, that you had pushed back time and time again if only to convince yourself that this man was worth all the pain and strife. Another pause lingered in the air, and he slowly began to chuckle, not taking you or your emotions seriously.
"Are you done now, my dear? Did your little outburst feel good? Are you ready to speak to me like an adult?"
"I'm serious. I will never..." You start, your words dying in your throat as that knot in your stomach builds up again, your face heating up, tears threatening to spill.
"I don't believe you. And if I don't believe you, then who would you have? You pushed all your friends away, deserted all your family... If anything, they'd see it as karma. No one will ever take you seriously. I'm all you have."
He smirks, turning back around and returning to his seat.
"But go on. You're very smart, I'm sure you've thought all of that out already, hmm?"
He speaks condescendingly, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he stares up at you, an expectant smile on his lips.
You stare at him wordlessly, an expression of pure shock on your face as you process his words, your lips parting as if trying to find something to say, only to come up with the simplest of phrases.
"You think this is all some joke...?"
He laughs to himself, shaking his head left to right, before finally speaking in that mockingly-sweet tone of his.
"Oh, no, no no. Not at all, dear. I just think you're too caught up in your own emotions to see how good I've been to you. Truly, I can't blame you. We've already had this conversation, don't you remember? We've danced this dance, sung this song, and had this experience presented to us before. Like always, I've fixed it. Your hysteria doesn't phase me."
Your stomach churns at his words, a hopelessly empty feeling overtaking you as he continues.
"You know deep down, you need me. I'm in your every waking thought. You adore me and you couldn't fathom losing me. You'd crumble without me. So, like the good person I am, I take you back each time. I'm your saving grace, dear."
With each word, his voice grows more insidious, and your heart beats louder in your chest, the tears you've been trying so hard to hold back all this time finally cascading down your cheeks.
"Ah... Do save your tears, my angel. I'm afraid my patience with you is wearing thin. Truthfully, I've gotten bored of entertaining your antics. You never appreciate anything good I do for you, you're too focused on always pointing out my flaws. What reason do I have to keep someone like that around, hmm?"
His head tilts to the side, eyes fixated on your tear-stained face as he awaits your next word.
"I...I'm sorry."
His eyes widen for a moment, before returning to normal as he laughs again.
"Oh, no dear, we're very much past the point of using our words here. Sorry won't cut it. I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness, and I'm no longer something worth your time."
His words are cruel, and they cut deep. All the confirmation you needed that you're disposable. A plaything. Even more painful was hearing your own words used against you.
You hate this. Hate him. Hate the way he twists your words every time to make you seem like some horrible person. How you fall for it, and come back to him like some dopey, lovesick puppy. Maybe it's because deep down, you do care about him. Maybe it's pity. After all, what would that say about you if you just walked out? Maybe, despite it all, you just like the attention, the compliments, the praise, as rare as they are.
Or maybe it's the fact that you've finally sunken to his level. He's completely ruined you; warped your perspective on everything, lifted you up only to tear you back down, drove you to the edge, and pulled you back just before you could fall more times than you could count. But you already know this, don't you? You're not as innocent as you portray. It's always been this way; back and forth, doing just enough to have him believe you, but never too much much that he catches on. Even if he did, you suspect he enjoys this sick game just as much. And that's what keeps you coming back. The prospect of being completely ruined is enticing in a way you can't even begin to describe.
"Useless? Oh no, that's not true. I'm sure I can prove just how much we need each other."
The words leave your lips quickly, as you wipe the remaining tears off your face.
A raised eyebrow from him, then a mildly unamused smile as he watches you walk closer to him, stopping only to drop to your knees in front of him. A hand rests on his knee, and he gives you an unimpressed glance.
"Ah, where have I seen this before? You can't possibly think this is all it will take to win me over." The Doctor sighed, casting his gaze back down at you.
"But.. The look of humiliation in your eyes will be well worth it. Go on, attempt to please me."
Your hands work their way to his belt, undoing the buckle, and moving every piece of cloth that covered his cock. One hand wrapped around his length, you felt it twitch ever so slightly. You ran your thumb upwards, gently massaging the head as you felt it stiffen. You glance up at him, gauging his face for any sort of reaction. Still nothing noteworthy. Hesitance isn't going to change that.
"Is that all? Pathetic. You're wasting my time."
"And yet, you remain here. You're lying to me."
"Me? I wouldn't say lying, more so... Giving you my precious time. Please don't waste any more of it teasing me. The least you could do is get me to finish."
Without another word, your lips part, gently taking the head of his cock in, warmth and wetness enveloping enveloping it as you sucked slowly and deliberately, your tongue caressing his shaft with every movement. The taste of him was addicting, blossoming on your tongue and spreading to your throat. With each passing moment, you took more and more of him in, giving attention to every vein and square inch of his dick. He raised a hand to your chin, gently lifting you off his cock as a trail of saliva left your lips.
"Ah, ah. So greedy. Try again. You're going to move slower, and only take more of me when I'm ready. Think you can manage that, angel?"
You nod, letting him guide you back to his dick, your mouth focused entirely on the head this time. The softest of sighs escape his lips, and his hips buck slightly, shoving more of himself in your mouth, rubbing against your tongue slowly. All the while, a very familiar heat began making itself known in the depths of your stomach. A droplet of your arousal slowly trails down your inner thigh, landing in a pool below you.
"Enjoying yourself? I didn't know you had a thing for being used." He mumbled, trying to keep his composure as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, a slight gag being heard from your end. A slight chuckle left his lips in response, his breath getting caught in his throat as he spoke again.
"Taking me so well... Maybe I was..." He trailed off, never completing his thought as a breathy moan escaped his lips. His thrusts became faster, more desperate as he shoved all of himself into your mouth, pushing you to your absolute limit.
"Right there, just like that... You make me feel so damn good, sweetheart."
A muffled whine from you, struggling to breathe as he holds you in place, every jerk from his hips sending his cock deep inside, producing a gag from you with little opportunity to catch your breath. Your arousal had now condensed into a small pool on the floor beneath you. A slower, rougher thrust catches you off guard, making you moan out around his cock. Your head feels warm and you're in a state of pure bliss, the only thing on your mind how big he feels in your mouth.
"...Say my name." He whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear. Another sharp thrust, another mumble from around his cock. His breath hitches in his throat as he repeats himself, commanding you to be louder.
"Perfect, let me hear your cries. Let me hear every sweet groan and gag while I use you like a toy."
His hands held your face, moans freeing themselves from his lips as he orgasmed, hot, slightly salty semen coating the walls of your throat, his cock softening as the last bits of his seed were emptied into your mouth. Only then did he let go, pulling out, giving you a chance to breathe.
"Swallow. All of it." He commanded, watching you lick up and swallow every last drop of his mess. He smirked in approval, looking down at you between his legs.
"Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe keeping you around will prove beneficial in the long run." He chuckled, running a thumb across your glistening lips. "Keep proving yourself useful, and I promise this little game of ours can continue."
And for the slightest moment, you're almost tempted to believe him.