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Summary
Pantalone glances towards the thick wooden doors that lead to his bedroom, and imagines Dottore above him, those gloved hands around his throat as they fuck each other senseless. Maybe he would get to see beyond that mask, finally.
Tsaritsa, it was a tempting decision. It really was.
But he’s so afraid of regretting it. What if he wakes up tomorrow, and it was the wrong thing to do? What if Dottore holds it over his head, blackmailing him into doing whatever he wants him to?
What if he finds out that he likes it a lot more than he thought he should?
Or, in which the Regrator finds that his frozen heart might not be so frozen after all.
Bookmarked by Gaslo
26 Jan 2026

