#Master x Reader

[buggyboba]

✦ October 19th | Sharing

AN 𓏧

↳ ○ | Hi I don’t know how this got to be so long….it was supposed to be smut….and just smut….have a whole ass story….i guess...anyway I started writing this twice, and then changed my mind, anyway, I did steal a bit of it for the first Missy x Reader x Simm!Master one I promised, so that is still in the works, and that one is going to be a multipart, so there is also that. I am sure I used they/them for reader, but fem!anatomy. SMUT MDNI

SUMMARY𓏧

↳ ○  While Sharing isn’t in their nature, they have decided to play nice because you looked so cute

PAIRING𓏧

↳ ○ Missy x Reader x Simm!Master

TW𓏧

↳ ○ Established relationship/companion. Fingering, P in V unprotected sex, cum on stomach, eating out. Voyeurism from Missy.

WORD COUNT𓏧

↳ ○ 4000

A03 lINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

MASTERLIST LINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

It was tea time. She had very set expectations, and you were already in the kitchen preparing two cups of tea; it wasn’t a full afternoon tea set up, but she was busy, and with the appearance of her past self, the schedule had been thrown out the window much to your dismay. Her past self had made himself comfortable over the past few weeks since he had come ‘aboard’ as he called it. Uprooting the nice thing they had going, stealing you away occasionally, as an extra set of hands, you would catch him staring or muttering. He would watch you and banter with you; it felt natural, as natural as how you and Missy bantered; you felt drawn to him, just like you were drawn to Missy. 

It was interesting, to say the least, if you looked deep enough, you could see bits of him in Missy, some of her facial expressions, some of her habits. Regeneration was odd, she had explained it to you, and you understood the concept. It was like dying, but not really; a new person was just left—a new face, a new body. The personality was a bit different, but the core was the same; at least that's what you understood of it, like The Master was eventually going to become Missy, and Missy was once the Master; you could understand that. Sometimes you worried about the vast paradox they were causing like this, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t your problem—not really. If the universe was going to explode, what were you going to be able to do about it? So you just enjoyed it. 

Missy was protective of you, said she knew herself, and well, she did know herself, so you trusted her decision to be cautious of leaving you two alone too often, but you couldn’t just tell him, ‘No, I’m not going to help you with XYZ.’ So you were forced to interact with him. Sometimes he whisked you off all day, kept coming up with excuses to keep you around, and when he was out of excuses, he said it was just to piss lady him off. You didn’t like being a tool to aid in him annoying Missy. 

Another thing about him was he was cocky; then again, so was she, but he was something entirely else. It wasn’t terrible; you found him interesting, just like you found her interesting. He was a younger her; after all, even if he didn’t look younger, Time Lord's age was odd and sometimes didn’t reflect how old they looked. It just so happened you didn’t mind them looking more mature; it was thrilling. 

He looked so dignified; you liked his style, his salt and pepper goatee, his coffee-colored eyes, his silver hair, He was foxy, cheeky, knew he looked good, and you liked it. Of course, at first, you only recognized him as Harold Saxon, which was wild, but you chose to ignore it. You had mixed feelings about Harold Saxon’s run, killing the president, and all that, but that didn’t matter anymore because, at the end of the day, Harold Saxon was a disguise. 

He did confuse you though, because he could say something so vile and off the wall and then be a gentleman in the same sentence. He liked keeping you on your toes and was interested in what his future self saw in you. You knew that Missy enjoyed your company, that you were sassy, that you weren’t afraid of getting your hands dirty, and most of all that you felt something for her. What you didn’t know was that it had started as sole manipulation at first, but she felt something deeper than that now and was trying desperately not to let her former self say anything that would ruin what you two had now. Little did she know, right? 

Since it was tea time for today, you were in the kitchen of her Tardis making tea when you felt a familiar air behind you, and suddenly his arms were on each side of you, boxing you in against the counter.

“I think I’ve got it.” He started. “What she sees in you.” He whispered in your ear, You went to sidestep, but he kept you in place. His eyes were studying you; there was a mix of something behind his eyes, predatory but also like he was trying to figure something out like you were a bug to be studied.

“Okay, let’s hear it then,” you said, staying calm and keeping your body relaxed as you tilted your head to look at him. You knew you had to be careful; after all, Missy had hypnotized you a few times, so you knew he could do it too. 

He laughed a bit and tilted his head, studying your eyes for a moment. "Oh, don’t worry, pet, I won’t hypnotize you, not right now, though it could be fun, and I am dying of boredom here. Who knew I could be so boring?" He shook his head. “You think too loud, and you are so easy to read, my dear.” He grinned at you. You shook your head and pushed him a bit so he would move so you could finish making tea. “It’s not your fault; you are human... "It is fascinating that Lady Me finds you so worthy of keeping around,” he said but moved so you could make the tea. “It has to be what you give her.” He waggled his eyebrow, his smirk widening. “I mean, I smelled you the other night, heard you... heard her... It’s the sex right, and here I thought she was above it; she went on and on about how she was above primal needs... She’s a liar; wouldn’t you agree, my dear?” He nodded and watched as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“What do you mean you smelled me?” You asked carefully, leaning away from the counter and looking at him. Ignoring everything else, he said for a moment and zeroed in on that detail. 

“What I mean is—oh, did she not—Oh, you poor thing... Time Lords have a heightened sense of smell; we can smell the chemicals in the air; we can tell what time period and where we are just by smell. So of course, confined in this tardis, in the room down the way, I can smell your arousal. Just like I can hear every soft hitched breath, every moan you think is muffled enough.” He mused. “And you are so noisy; I can see why she likes you; I always did like screamers. Wonder what you taste like; it must be fantastic if Lady Me goes back for more.” He mused, and you felt scandalized right then and there. He had heard you two, smelled you two; you wanted to disappear right now; you wanted to cease to exist in the same room as him. 

"Oh, shy now? You weren’t shy last night,” he gave you that cheeky grin. “So I have to assume she keeps you around because you fulfill her needs and wants.” He looked you over; you tried to figure out what to say, and you found yourself suddenly wishing Missy would show up. “Which makes some semblance of sense; it is what you humans are good for, you know,” he teased, but it felt meaner than it should have.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I give stellar head and have a can-do attitude.” You muttered, turning back to focus on the tea. You were trying to stop yourself from burning up with embarrassment, not that you knew why it was embarrassing; it was clear you and Missy were entangled in some sort of relationship, ergo you two would be intimate, and like he was a stranger; sure, he was strange, but not a complete stranger.

“And you smell delicious,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “No, I am sure that’s what she likes of you." He tapped his fingers against his chin for a moment watching you, taking in your body language, seemingly pleased he put you on edge, got under your skin. “It’s not so bad, is it? I am very giving. So you aren’t wanting, I’m sure,” he said flippantly. You narrowed your eyes.

“It’s not just sex.” You muttered. Turning your attention to finish the cups of tea, you were already going to have to explain that her former self cornered you in the kitchen, which is why tea was late, so as revenge You had decided to only make yourself and Missy a cup of tea, but it didn’t matter because he ended up stealing yours and sat down to talk to Missy, who entered a few moments after the tea was ready, easily dismissing you. You went to talk back, but Missy held her hand up and motioned you away. You didn’t like this at all; you narrowed your eyes looking between them and definitely called them a bitch in your head before you headed to yours and Missy’s shared room. 

It felt like hours as you lay there quietly, upset at your lack of time with her and how he stole your tea. You sighed deeply and were almost about to get off the bed and go look for her when, speaking of the devil, or devils, she entered, followed by her male counterpart. You sat up and crossed your arms, looking between them; she had never let him come in. You paused and looked between them. 

“We spoke,” she started, “and we have come to an agreement.” She said with a final tone, and you shifted. My younger self understands now what you are to me and us, and if you agree, we would like to... share you.” She said, watching your face for any signs of what you were feeling. 

“Oh well, at least I get a choice,” or at least an illusion of one, you mentally thought. “And why exactly would I want to be shared? I assume you are not just talking about splitting custody of me." You joked a bit, trying to make your own unease go away. You thought he was handsome, and he was technically her, different but still her. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak, and he did; it didn’t take long, actually. 

“I know what you think; you are not good at hiding it, pet and I know you have thought about it once or twice, what it would be like, and what I can give you that she cannot.” He started and glanced at Missy, then back to you. “And while we are not prone to sharing what is ours, it’s only fair; if you are hers, you are mine,” he said casually. “So come on, live a little, let's play swingers,” he grinned at you in a cheeky grin that was oh so familiar. “Let me get to know who I apparently adore.” He rolled his eyes a bit but then looked at you studying you again, as if he were actually thinking about how Missy said she adored you to him. 

The statement made you blush a bit. You did know that Missy adored you, and you adored Missy; you also hadn’t been expecting such a proposition. You looked at Missy, who was watching you with an equally cheeky grin, nodding a bit as a go-ahead. You wondered if this was a ploy to get to you sooner by having her past self be involved with you too. It felt very convoluted, so therefore felt like a very ‘Master’ plan to you. 

"So, like, is this you wanting to sleep with me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at him. 

“Oh no, if I wanted to just do that, I would have told you, and we would have seen where the night took us, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a tempting thought; after all, you do make the cutest sounds,” he mused a bit. Right, god, you forgot he could hear you, that he could smell your arousal. Oh god, that meant Missy absolutely could too; that would explain the smirks and glances when you were turned on around her. You didn’t have time to unpack all of that right now; you had to focus on the question that was being asked of you. You had never been in a relationship with two people before, more so the same person. You had a lot of questions about the logistics of it but decided now was not the time for that either. 

“I mean, I guess... it's okay... I mean, you are the same person, just in different places in your timeline, I guess, so by all means it’s fine... as long as neither of you gets jealous of the other, which I know is a big ask.” You laughed a bit trying to lighten the very serious topic. 

The pair were silent. “I think we can manage, Poppet," Missy said and rolled her eyes, moving to sit next to you, her hand lightly patting your knee. “Plus, in the grand scheme of things, you are still mine regardless, and in an off way while we are vastly different, I can’t ignore my past, and he has become...” she paused to think of the correct word she wanted to use. “Smitten.” She settled on, “You are an interesting pet, and while he can be...” she trailed off for a moment once again looking for the right word. “Pushy, cocky…an idiot.” She smirked a bit when The Master bristled and made an annoyed sound. “I think this would be a good arrangement,” she said lightly. “We can try it, and if it’s not what we enjoy, no harm in it…right?” She urged you, and you nodded a bit, though you were almost positive it wouldn’t just go back to how it was if they didn’t like it. You shifted again, and Missy’s hand tightened on your knee. “Trust me?” she asked.

You sighed and looked at her. You did trust her, but it was such a turn-around from her wanting you to stay away from him, and now she wants you to sleep with him? Then again, you couldn’t even begin to understand what she was thinking, so you would go along with it; it was fine. He was right; you had been looking at him; you did find him stunning, and since he would eventually become her, you didn’t think it was too weird. 

“Good, perfect!” he clapped once and started over the bed, flopping on your other side, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you a bit closer to him. “You know something; earlier, when I said I knew why she chose you being strictly satisfying her, I was wrong, and I don’t often if ever admit when I am wrong, though we will see for ourselves, won’t we? I do bet it’s fantastic, from what I’ve heard anyway.” He smirked, and you wanted to die again. 

“Let’s not talk about it; look, Missy."You looked at Missy and said, “Didn’t explain that the Time Lords were basically fucking bloodhounds, pack hunters... Jesus.” You shook your head. 

“That’s not a bad thing, darling.” She grinned at you, moving her hand up to your thigh more. “And if I had told you before you would hide those beautiful sounds from me and freak out anytime you became aroused, it would have made it more obvious, and you would have hated that even more than you hate us talking about it now. I think it’s nothing to be worried about, plus your heart does this little racing thing, oh, like now,” she poked above your now pounding heart. "Yeah, that’s it, lovely,” she grinned. “I think deep down you like it because it is a turn-on, whether or not you know it.” She said her hand moving up to pull your shirt up, her nails scratching up your stomach, leaving little red lines as she did so. “And don’t worry, I’ll be here the entire time.” She practically cooed at you.

Oh, oh so this was happening now, of course, it was, you didn’t expect them to wait, not when you were there already warm, already thinking about how Missy made your body feel, and wondering how He would make your body feel, you felt your cheeks heat more as his hand slid down to undo your pants, pulling the zipper down his hand grazed against your hip as he pushed the fabric down your hips and past your knees, Missy pressed a soft kiss against your neck, as her hand caught the fabric of your shirt pulling it over your chest showing off your chest, which was covered by a black lace bra, his hands moved to pull the strap down over your shoulder so your breast fell free from the cup, his palm cupped the flesh and his thumb traced against your nipple, coaxing it to harden, you shivered, as you felt Missy’s nails against your bare thigh, trailing up towards the apex of your thighs. 

“They are cute,” he mused. He pinched your nipple a bit, rougher than Missy tended to be. You had a feeling where Missy was rough; he was going to be rougher. You were not getting out of this unscathed, you breathed out as his hand moved to kneed at your other breast, his mouth capturing your nipple; he drew long sucks against it; you instinctively let your hand grab his shoulder as you felt Missy shift to move up on the bed more, watching. The Master moved pushing your pants down and off, dragging you up more, his hand moved to your thigh, spreading you out for him more as he pushed you to lay down; his tongue flicked at your nipple before he licked down your stomach, nipping right above the waistband of your underwear, which caused your hips to arch; you felt Missy move to sit with your head in her lap, her fingers trailing through your hair, as she watched with interest. 

“She particularly likes the thing we do with our tongue.” Missy mused, smirking down at you, and you gave a soft sound as his fingers dragged your underwear down. 

“Who doesn’t?” He smirked. 

“Cocky.” She shot back, watching as he pushed your thighs up, so your legs were over his shoulders; she supported your neck more as he moved you; her fingers massaged at your neck; her other hand moved to trail her fingers up the valley of your chest; your hands didn’t know where to go, one gripped against Missy’s skirt, the other against the back of The Master’s head as his mouth made contact with your core. The sound that escaped you was sinful. Missy’s fingers trailed against your arm as it clung to her. 

His tongue curled and pressed before falling flat against your slit, licking a stripe up, before the flat of his tongue wiggled against your clit, pulling a breathy sound from you, your hips arching again, his hands having to grab your hips so you couldn’t squirm away as his mouth closed around the little bundle of nerves sucking and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His eyes watching you closely, taking in all your body’s cues. 

"See, I told you.” Missy spoke, “Putty.” She smirked, one of her hands fingers stroked against your cheek, almost lovingly. Her other hand cupped your breast, slowly massaging it. You jolted as he slipped a finger into you, thrusting it a few times before he added a second one to stretch you for him. “Making sure you are nice and ready, puppy.” She purred to you like you needed a play-by-play. Your hand moved to try and pull at her shoulder, wanting her lips on yours, which she obliged, swallowing a few of your groans with her mouth. 

“Oi, I want to hear them; that’s the whole point, isn’t it, the fun little sounds?" He pulled back, and you tightened your hand against the back of his head, whining about him stopping. “What a needy little thing we have.” He smirked a bit. “Then again, I don’t blame them, do you?” He smirked at Missy, who watched him and then looked back to you, nodding after a moment.

“All ours… I think we will keep them.” She mused though she said that every time you two slept together, ‘I think I’ll keep you.' It was as close to 'I love you’ as you were going to get. You felt him sit up, hearing his belt buckle undo and the swift sound of leather being pulled before he undid his pants. His hand wrapped around his length and stroked the already semi-hard member to life. He pressed the tip through your slick folds, rubbing against your entrance. “Deep breath,” he breathed out as he leaned over pressing against you, his chest against yours, as he held himself up with one arm. As he heard you breathe in he pushed in slowly, sinking in inch by inch, feeling your body stretch for him. “That’s a good pet.” he breathed out as he felt you flex and clench around him, “Oh yes, like a glove, like you were made for me.” he purred into your ear, you heard the annoyed tsk of Missy, but her fingers continued to play against your nipple and scratch the back of your neck, watching the pleasure split across your face, as he settled to the hilt, “There we are.” he breathed out, and slowly started to drag out, getting halfway out before he pushed back in quickly, his hand found your hip sliding down it and under your thigh keeping your leg pushed up and out as he rolled his hips, he felt your other knee against his hip as he set a steady pace. 

You groaned out, locking gaze with him as he moved, that grin spread across his lips, he liked eye contact just like Missy did, of course, he did. He felt better than any toy Missy and you had used, one hand moved to grab the back of his jacket pulling at it as he hit every right spot with the roll of his hips. You felt your head cloud as your pleasure started to build, you arched more trying to breathe and not let yourself cum, much like when you were with Missy, you wanted her to cum first, though with Time Lord's stamina you knew he would cum plenty of times before he was tired. You gasped out feeling your thighs strain and shake as he pushed as deep as he could with each thrust now. You groaned out his title, “Master.” there was a moment where his eyes darkened, and he gripped you tighter, the way you groaned out ‘Master’ clearly did something for him too, because he picked up his speed. He could tell you were close and he was close too. He growled out something in Gallifreyan, you had heard Missy say it before, in that same growl. Missy’s hands tightened against you as she heard his growl, her own eyes dark with possession, as she felt your body shudder and jolt as you slipped and screamed out as you came around him. 

You choked out, as he kept moving, Missy said something in very stern Gallifreyan, to which he replied, but slowly pulled out stroking himself as he splattered hot seed against your stomach, and looked at Missy with a look of ‘Are you happy now’, you couldn’t even form words for a moment, but you knew they must have argued about where he could cum, you felt Missy press a few kisses against your temple as you breathed trying to catch your breath. 

“I think it’s my turn pet,” she smirked a bit waiting for you to come down. It was going to be a long night between you three, and you weren’t sure about all the implications, but you didn’t care all that much, because this opened a whole new world for you, and you did want to explore more of it. 

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

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[tardistimes]

Fortune Favours

Part of The Master's Maniacal Misadventures series. AO3 link.

“You’ll be abducted by aliens – but don’t worry, they won’t carry out experiments on you.”

Setting down the paper you’d just read aloud from, you told O, “That’s a weird fortune to get.” So much, in fact, that you picked it up to read again. Maybe they were a joke variety, like the kind you get from a Christmas cracker. “What did you get?”

O let go of his chopsticks to pick up his fortune cookie. Slowly, purposefully slow you thought, he leant back, cracked it open, and slowly withdrew the piece of paper.

“Well?” You said.

He gave you one of those little smiles, the kind you were growing too fond of, before he bent his head to read his fortune, “Your short term goal will soon be realised.”

You read yours again. “Why’d you get a normal fortune and I got this?”

O shrugged. “Being abducted by aliens is clearly what the universe has planned for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Again with the aliens? They’re not real.”

“Stranger things have happened.” He insisted.

“Fine.” You huffed, sitting back down in your seat at the conference table. A mountain of paperwork was spread out between you, cartons of Chinese food taking up whatever space was left. “So I’m going to get abducted by aliens. That’s one way to start a new year, I guess.”

The Master grinned slyly, hiding it behind a mouthful of disgusting human food.

“So what’s this short term goal of yours?” You asked.

“I can’t tell you,” O said solemnly, “or it won’t come true.”

“Oh come on,” and before he could say it, “and no I’m not saying your name. That’s when you make a wish, not from reading a fortune. It won’t jinx it.”

“Well I’m just not going to take that chance.” O said, remaining firm.

“Hmm, well I hope – for both our sakes – it’s getting this work done and soon. At this rate, they’ll be no point going home. It’s a good thing we get paid overtime.”

He wouldn’t wish for any such thing, having contrived for C to give you this extra workload solely for the extra time together. But that wasn’t the plan. No such thing as aliens, he mused. How wrong you were; and how soon you’d find out.

*              *              *

The Master thought human food was disgusting, so you were surprised when the TARDIS landed on Earth and he ushered you into a restaurant. He had learnt his lesson that you needed regular feeding, but he never came to Earth unless he was up to something.

Eyeing him suspiciously, even more so when he pulled out your chair for you to sit, you waited for whatever plot was about to be unleashed. You were well familiar with his schemes, the lengths and breadth of his creativity never failing to astonish but you’d thought you were past the point of surprise. Until you cracked open your cookie.

“You’ll be abducted by aliens,” you started, raising your eyebrows at the Master, “but don’t worry.” You laughed. “They won’t carry out experiments on you.

“I should hope not!” You added.

The Master grinned wolfishly, waiting for a reaction that you hadn’t given him.

Meeting those brown eyes though, it did stir a memory.

Glancing back down at the slip of paper, you read your fortune again.

“I’ve had this before.” You realised. “Did you…”

His grin turned devilish.

“… of course you did. Did you keep them or something?”

He still waited.

“Oh.”

“Yes.” The Master taunted.

“You made the fortune? So that means… were you planning to abduct me?” You said, suddenly outraged.

“Love, I did abduct you. From the Doctor.” He reminded.

“Oh. Right.”

“Did you forget? Or did you consider it a rescue from the teensy goodie two shoes Doctor?” The Master teased. “Admit it, love. You were relieved when I turned up.”

Rolling your eyes, you had no problem telling him that wasn’t true.

“Hardly, you were trying to kill all of humanity at the time. Also, Master, you know the Doctor’s taller than you.”

He ignored that fact. “Or perhaps you were hoping I would experiment on you.”

“You did. You used that god-awful book to figure out how humans work. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that we’re burning that SOB’s house down.”

“Love, I would never settle for such paltry retribution. Think bigger, then we’ll talk.”

You pursed your lips, tempted but you had another question to ask first. “What was your fortune?”

Grinning ear to ear, the Master theatrically picked up his cookie from the plate and cracked it open so enthusiastically that pieces rained over the table. With a flourish, the slip of paper was produced and he held it up to his eyes with a teasing smirk.

“Let’s see here, what does it say.” He drew out. “Hmm, interesting.”

“Master.” You groaned.

“Yes, love.” He said as innocent as a python with a mouse in its mouth.

“What does it say?”

Clearing his throat until he elicited another groan from you, he finally pronounced: “Your long term goal will soon be realised.”

Frowning, you tried to think back to that lifetime ago when you sat with O at work and ate that meal together. You got the same fortune but, “That’s not right. It was your short term goal.”

“Oh, love. I abducted you a long time ago.” Waving his slip of paper. “You’ll just have to wait and see what I have planned next.”

That was a fortune cookie I got on NYE and it made my mind go to this fandom ofc. Sorry it's only a short one! Only proofed it once too 😅 Set after Guileless Guides.

[how-masterful]

Chaos

Missy X Reader, Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: It's a late night after an eventful day, and in your exhaustion you muse about the Master and his chaos. But the chaos is seemingly just beginning. Notes: Here we are! The fourth annual birthday fic in a row for @plethora-of-imagines! And my first fic in a while! It's been both fun and frustrating getting back into writing, but i'm pretty happy with how this turned out- and where i'm planning for it to go! Don't worry plethora, you'll get your joust soon! Enjoy! (Also reader note, there's mention of Delgado!Master X Reader in here too, just in case that's not your thing!)

To finally rest your head upon a pillow was bliss. The aches and pains of the day that held tight within your bones seemed to melt into the plush duvet, dispersing from your body and leaving you nothing more than an exhausted husk. Today, as ever, had been far more eventful than any plan the Master's brain (or brains? You still weren't so sure about that one) could create. 

It seemed these days, even the simplest of visits would end in a universe threatening scenario- whether it was indeed the Master threatening the universe himself was often a flip of a coin. Chaos trailed behind the Master like a shadow, a tangible shred in the fabric of the universe. No matter his reason for visiting, whatever planet he dared to step his foot onto could never be left in the same state. His compulsion for chaos prevented it. He left destruction like footprints in the sand.

You adored it. You adored him. But some days the chaos felt just that- chaos. A heavy weight that made you crave nothing more than a good night's rest.

You sighed deep into your pillow, turning onto your side as you let out a hefty sigh. Even today, what had started as a simple visit to a museum had ended with utter destruction and you being banished from a whole subsection of space. The Master had, perhaps overnight, developed a strong passion for the correct and morally appropriate relocation of artifacts to their home planets, instead of keeping them in museums on the opposite side of space. From memory, you recalled musing about how strange this new desire was, how… benevolent. The shelves in his own office were crammed and sagging in the middle from the weight of all his stolen keepsakes. Since when was he so bothered about things being where they belonged?

Then you noticed the dangerous twinkle in his eye, his hand stretching outwards to grasp hold of your own, his electrifying touch leading you down the exhibition hall and towards the large glass cabinet housing a weapon of, when put bluntly, targeted mass destruction on a single planetary scale. 

The Master's moral mission to return the artifact had been nothing more than a vehicle for destruction-the weapon was specially designed to implode the planet the moment it made contact with its unique outer crust, which was why the museum across the stars kept it in the first place. To prevent destruction. To show the universe such chaos must be prevented. Be contained. But with the shatter of glass, and a dastardly smile, the Master had taken it into his hands to wipe that planet from the map. 

“That's what they get for working with the Grand Serpent.”

He’d grinned, watching the fire from the safety of his TARDIS, one hand upon your thigh, another bringing his teacup to his lips. He’d never been fond of that slimy old copycat. You’d smiled and sipped from your own cup in return, the curl of smoke in your nostrils a familiar and oddly comforting smell. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, the darkness of your own head far more comforting than the darkness of the room. Sleep had begun to sink deep within your limbs, a welcomed relaxation as opposed to your mental debate.

The chaos, as he’d once said, was a wonderful thing. It was routine yet also unique, that strange unicorn of a lifestyle that tinged the edges of everything you knew. Chaos brewed itself in the smallest of fashions and grandest of scales. Cushions that didn’t match, eclectic mugs that filled up the cabinets, mountains of books yanked from the library and piled in precarious structures, minefields of abandoned and temperamental experimental devices that could go off at any moment scattered around the various labs in the TARDIS.

But it shone deep from within the Master's eyes, his deep browns a perilous vortex you could find yourself falling into at a moment's notice, never wishing to crawl free of him. He was a harbinger of chaos, a walking weapon of catastrophe, anarchy at his fingertips. He could send your body and soul into a frenzy as easy as destroying a dynasty. You could never want him any less.

Sometimes, however, it all became too much to handle. You needed much more rest than the Timelord could bring himself to want, need or take with the amount of adrenaline running through his system. With a kiss to your forehead, a promise to return, and a request to take full advantage of the luxuriously comfy hotel bed, the Master had returned to the labyrinth you’d lovingly called ‘The Timeline Club’- once more meeting with his former self to discuss new business. Business it was essential they’d both be able to remember.

The other Master had started to become a more prevalent part of your existence, arriving to join your plans on occasion, arriving to join your more personal excursions even more. The Master, your Master, with his wide smile and eyes that could soften to a dangerously innocent doe eyed look, had taken such pride in how willing you were to get to know his former self… intimately. A boost to the ego that could never be matched: No matter what body he was in, it seemed you were destined to find it ridiculously attractive- and you weren’t inclined to argue with his hypothesis, considering the other Masters' visits often ended in you providing damning evidence.

The long curtains that hung beside the wide window began to softly sway, caught in a gentle breeze as your brain began to slow, allowing your thoughts to soften. You’d once suggested to your Master, well, Masters now, that you'd felt an ‘off’ button to your brain would be far more effective in getting the amount of sleep you needed when running on such a tight schedule. Your younger Master (definitely younger, despite looking like he should have been the older Master- much like the brains, it was awfully confusing) had a penchant for that sort of thing, his words were able to guide you to such a wonderful rest in less than a minute. Hard as you tried, no sleep you could muster on your own had yet compared to his.

Making a space for him had been almost as easy as breathing. He was so different to your Master, so refined and stoic, yet the hold he had upon you was exactly the same. Your apprehension upon your first meeting had disappeared with the same ease that your mind had now disappeared into a needed slumber. 

That was, until, you heard it. Your eyes barely cracked open at the familiar groan. The groan of the TARDIS, wheezing and phasing into existence. The breeze upon the curtains had swelled into a storm, the fabric billowing as the furniture began to lightly rattle, the cool wind snatching away the warmth of sleep you’d worked so hard to find. 

You sat up slowly in bed, pushing the covers back with balled fists as the TARDIS finally materialized upon the far wall of the hotel room, taking the shape of an elaborate wardrobe, swirling carvings of hissing snakes deep within the mahogany wood.

“Master,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “You said you’d be hours, I've only just got in bed.”

The door to the wardrobe swung open, light piercing through the gap and bathing the room in a fierce purple glow. You squinted hard, your eyebrows furrowing. The Master's tardis had a red console unit light.

“Did you change the console room again?” You mumbled, rolling your shoulders. The ache from earlier in the day had finally returned to your joints.

There came no reply from within. Except for the slow click of high heels upon metal inching closer and closer.

“Master?”

“Not quite.”

A figure emerged, bathed in shadow, breaking the glow of the TARDIS with her silhouette. Her voice, a Scottish lilt, made your eyes snap wide open.

“But you’re not far off.”

The other wardrobe door opened, and the figure stepped out of the TARDIS and into the light. Her long brown hair was fashioned into a messy updo of curls, her piercing eyes precisely lined with deep black liner. A pale broach sat perfectly within her white collar upon her throat, her long purple skirt covered by a matching purple jacket, the tops of her sleeves puffing out like a victorian. She smiled darkly with her red rouged lips, brandishing a slender black umbrella in one hand, its metal tip digging into the carpet.

“My my, what big eyes you have.” She teased, stepping closer in her black leather heels.

“All the better to gawk and say ‘what the hell is going on?’ without actually saying anything.”

You inched back slowly, hand carefully creeping towards your phone on the nightstand. The intruder's gaze caught you immediately. She tutted lightly, before raising the umbrella in her grasp and aiming it at your phone. With a loud hiss, the phone jumped from the table and clattered to the floor, an involuntary yelp escaping you.

“That’ll do you no good, dearie.” She teased, shaking her head.

“There's no use calling him, there's no danger. He wouldn’t be so self sabotaging. I should know.”

“Who are you?” You snapped.

The intruder giggled, raising her free hand teasingly to her lips.

“Oh, he hasn’t told you? Typical men, always wanting to keep their shiny things to themselves. Such a boys club, isn’t it?”

“Answer the question.”

“I am!” The intruder replied, gesturing exasperatedly.

“No, you’re really not.”

“Uh, I really am. I’m providing indirect answers through context clues masked with sarcastic commentary! C’mon poppet, you’re letting the side down here.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, narrowing your gaze towards the strange woman.

The intruder sighed dramatically, placing her hands on her hips.

“Wow. He really didn’t tell you who I am? I’m offended. Seriously, totally offended. You’d think after promising to let you meet me A YEAR AGO he’d fill you in on the deetz- but no, you’ve been running around making whoopee with the silver fox for months, far too distracted to come and visit little old me!”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, when memory got to you first. It was a partial haze, the image muddied by alcohol and exhilaration, yet you could still make out the shapes. One year ago you’d visited the Timeline Club for the first time- a year ago, you’d met your other Master for the first time. After your… antics… the Master, your Master, had carried you out and mentioned something about-

“Workshopping…” You said aloud. The intruder tilted her head like a curious cat.

“He’d said he’d be workshopping it… he said I needed to meet…”

The intruder stepped forward, reaching the edge of the bed and smirking expectantly. You looked up, awe slowly spreading across your features. You gasped softly, the tension falling from your shoulders.

“You’re… Missy?”

The Timelady hummed in approval, her hand reaching to cup your chin with her fingertips, lifting your face to meet her gaze.

“That’s Mistress to you right now, pet. We’re still getting to know each other.”

You gaped up at her, unable to pull your eyes away. You could see it within her eyes, that familiar twinkle of danger. It was the same one you saw in your Master's eyes.

“Now come along, we’ve much bonding to do, so little time.”

Missy preened, bringing her face closer to your own, leaning across the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been so looking forward to getting my hands on you, poppet. Those boys have been keeping too short a leash on you.”

The Mistress chuckled, booping the end of your nose with her fingertip.

“Now it’s my turn to have some fun.”

Missy grinned down at you. And in that smile, you saw the familiar storm of chaos.

[notes-of-the-behemoth]

In the role of a parent

(I think I outlined the psychological problems of the characters themselves more, but so be it)

Master:

• He needs help

He has no idea how to raise a child.

• clumsy and awkward with a child, but it's a matter of time

• really loves her child and his love may sometimes be too much. It belongs to the type of parents who can love their child "to death" (it seems to me that because of his closeness, the master cannot openly show affection, as a result of which it all falls out on the child, which leads to its redundancy, excessive guardianship and care)

• there are also many sweet moments. For example, he can start coming up with cute stories so that the child falls asleep faster.

• spoils the child too much. But it's justified!... In his opinion. How can he refuse him if he asks... Besides, he is so charming ...

• it is difficult to cope with a child in adolescence. Considering that the master is overly attached to his child, it is a little frightening for him to have a child's desire for freedom. However, it is also passing.

• he is in a difficult position when it comes to everyday life

Marghorita :

• For her, this is probably a desirable child. So, too, in a sense, to take too much care of the child, but definitely less than the master.

• despite the previous paragraph, she is sometimes strict with the child. She wants to give her child the best upbringing, so she sometimes shows restraint and perhaps even rigidity.

• tries to instill in the child a love of literature and it is not easy for literature but for good literature. She understands that books have a lot of influence on the child's worldview, so she monitors what her child reads.

• in adolescence, she tends to become more of a friend to a child than a mother. And because of this, problems may arise.

• One of her favorite activities with her child is watching movies. Or rather, the time after the film when she can share her impressions of the film, express her opinion about the plot and characters and hear the opinion of her child as well. She listens attentively and respects the child's opinion. However, sometimes it can turn into a rather heated discussion.

Woland:

• not too strict, not overprotective, the golden mean

However, sometimes it can be frightening even for your child. And Woland is trying to get rid of it.

• one of the reasons why a child will be afraid of Woland is that he always knows when a child is lying or hiding something from him.(However, in some cases Woland prefers to pretend that he does not know about the misconduct) Therefore, we can say that the child will be partially deprived of his personal life.

• The character is tolerant of the child's hobbies. It is rare to hear prohibitions from him regarding a child's hobby, only if it is harmful to the child or society.

• his offspring has an excellent upbringing. Perhaps we can say conservative. Voland's child has many positive qualities. For example: creativity, self-control and calmness

• However, the flip side of the coin is that the child is quite closed in the manifestation of emotions.

Koroviev:

• severe clinical case

• you can hardly wait for real emotions from Koroviev and this greatly affects the personality of the child.

• there is a high probability that the child will be a copy of a man.

• also, for a child, Koroviev is more a friend than a parent. However, for a man, his child will be an excellent companion for practical jokes. The perfect duo.

• However, despite the fact that Koroviev wears the "mask" of a buffoon, his real essence sometimes speaks in him. And it is these moments that become important for his offspring, they largely shape the child's personality.

• despite all of the above, the man is quite savvy in everyday terms. That is, he can easily lull the child to sleep or help him do his homework.

Koroviev is very attentive to his child, despite his external carelessness, he is sensitive to the external manifestations of the offspring's emotions. To some extent, a man is gentle and affectionate with a child.

• he is also very tolerant of the child's hobbies. However, there is a high probability that he will send the child to a music school. Perhaps his child will play the piano, he would like to play a duet with his child (I have an assumption that Koroviev can play the violin)

Behemoth:

• unexpectedly, but one of the best parents

• conservative upbringing.

• since he has a so-called "sixth sense" (It's easier to call it intuition), he is also acutely aware of changes in the child's mood. He is also shrewd in terms of the child's misdeeds

• one of the few disadvantages of a Behemoth as a parent is his pickiness and criticality, it puts pressure on the child.

• prefers that his child be engaged in everyday life. Of course, he is not against the child's hobby, but I do not prefer that the child help with housework.

• despite his strictness, he sees the child primarily as a child, does not dump responsibilities on him.

• Clear separation of roles. Like, "dad is dad, friends are friends," That is, the relationship between a child and a Hippo does not turn into a friendly one.

• despite the previous paragraph, he sees in the child an excellent companion for practical jokes.

Azazello:

• Oh, just as unexpected, but one of the best parents

• definitely gets softer when it comes to his offspring, but tries not to spoil him.

• he would probably prefer that his child practice some kind of martial arts, and it does not depend on the sex of the child.

• despite the fact that Azazello tries not to spoil the child too much, he can overwhelm him with gifts. He just can't do anything about it...

• short-tempered and stubborn, which also causes conflicts with the child. Especially if the child has inherited his character

• it is also likely to be overprotective at times. But he does not seek to control the child too much.

• his child will DEFINITELY not become a household invalid. He'll take better care of it than anyone else. In this regard, it can be said that at times he is quite strict with the child.

Wow, it was quite difficult but interesting. This paper presents a subjective opinion, it may be inaccurate or incorrect. In any case, I have a couple more ideas for similar works. Orders are open.

[misstycloud]

Yan! Sick Young master x caretaker reader.

Yandere!Young Master who you were brought in to care for. He was known for being exceedingly difficult; his family never managed to hire someone for more than three months, they all got fed up at some point and left as soon as they received their last pay check.

Yandere!Young Master who has a lot of conditions that leaves him unstable. He is not even able to go outside and he rarely eats. Luckily he has his old-money family who cares about him just enough to hire help instead of letting him slowly rot away in a secluded part of the mansion.

Yandere!Young Master who screamed and threw stuff at you the first few times you met. He said he wanted you to leave him alone, that you could even skip work but receive the paycheck anyway(his family wouldn’t notice if you neglected your duties) if you so wished. All he wanted was to be by his lonesome. He never had anyone in his youth and it would remain that way when he was an adult and until the day he died.

This young master was truly troublesome.

Yandere!Young Master that you decided to care for despite his bad temper and hurtful insults. He called you foul names, compared you to filth and made your job a lot harder than it needed to be. Even physical violence like pulling your hair and throwing(more) objects in your direction was not off the table. There was no one to aid you during the especially difficult days since the already-limited staff the house had avoided both you and the young mater like the plague. Staying clear of him was understandable, he had tormented them as well, and they refused to interact with you in fear of you requesting back-up. When they saw a way out they took it, it was as simple as that.

Still, you felt sad for the young master. He had not had the easiest life and was shunned by everyone around him. It really did seem that money could not truly buy everything one needed; the deprivation of support had created his sour personality. While it seemed nice, you didn’t feel like it was right to leech of money you didn’t earn. You wanted to help the broken young man, maybe he would be able to live a somewhat earnest life.

You weren’t sure if you did it because you had somehow come to care for the ill-mannered man, or if it was to satisfy your own need to feel like a good person. Whatever it was, it drove you to try harder than ever to win the young master’s trust.

Yandere!Young Master who was stumped. He did not understand why you treated him so kindly after all the abuse he put you through(yes, he knew he acted horrible but didn’t find it in himself to care). It didn’t make any sense. Why were you approaching him and asking him personal questions while the rest of the staff avoided his room like a bomb had been planted inside? Whenever you’d ask about his hobbies and tastes he’d simply respond with a snarky, “Why the hell do you care?” But no matter how rude he was to you, you never buzzed off like he’d so desperately wanted in the beginning.

Yandere!Young Master who didn’t want you to leave anymore. Truth be told, you made his days feel a lot more worthy than they should’ve been. You're like a breath of fresh air. No servant he's ever had was in your likeness. It seemed like you genuinely cared for him, which is in big contrast to the others.

Yandere!Young Master who began to treat you more kindly. It was subtle in the beginning; he didn't insult you as much, until it stopped all together; he no longer tried to hurt you during his tantrums; the young master eventually started to compliment you at times wether it be your clothes or how you did your hair that day.

Yandere!Young Master who now regarded you as irreplaceable. You had bursted into his monotone life and brought light with you. He could actually smile for once. With you near he didn't feel like he was constantly rotting and had been encouraged enough to wander outside- something he hadn't even though about doing prior to your encounter. You helped him of course and provided safety and stability. He adored getting to cling to you with every finer of his being. Thanks to you he regained his appetite and was growing stronger every day. The young master wouldn't admit it to anyone but his favourite time of day was now mealtime, it was because you would feed him yourself. He would often stare into your eyes without breaking eye-contact whilst you fed him. There was just something so sensual about it. Just the though had him shiver in delight.

Yandere!Young Master who went absolutely ballistic as he suspected you might have a lover. He had overheard you speak to the only male servant right outside his door when you thought he was asleep. He made you laugh- HIM, the good-for-nothing servant boy who never did his job right! What did you see in him? Well, you saw enough to want a date with him. The young master could not stand for it. His blood boiled, how could you seduce him and become the most important person in his life if you were just going to whore yourself out for mere peasants? Did you think you could simply leave him like nothing had happened? Fuck that made him furious.

Yandere!Young Master who reverted back to his old personality, without you understanding why. Now he was mean and ill-mannered again. Every ounce of respect you had earned through hard work and long months had flown out the window in an instant.

Though it stung to see your hopeless expression when he swore at you, he knew it needed to be done. You had to be taught that you couldn't mess with someone's life and abandon them easily. You belonged to him now and he will keep you even if that's not what you desire.

[fear-is-truth]

TALKING YOU THROUGH IT — KANG DAE-HO

warnings — soft dom!dae-ho. smut. MDNI !

dae-ho is so patient with you. too patient, really, considering how you’re squirming in his lap, thighs trembling where they straddle his. he’s already given you an out, asked if you were sure—twice—but you’d nodded, eyes shining, and he just… couldn’t say no. not when you looked at him like that.

“slow down,” he murmurs now, hands firm on your hips, steadying you as you try to sink down too fast. his thumbs rub circles into your skin, and he can feel how tense you are.

“you’re doing so good, but you gotta breathe, okay?”

you whimper, fingers digging into his broad shoulders. despite the gentleness of his actions, he’s stretching you open, every inch of him a slow burn.

“i know,” dae-ho soothes, voice soft and almost apologetic, “i know, baby. let me help.” his hands guid you, easing you down until he’s fully inside, sheathed deep to the hilt. you’re so tight around him that his jaw clenches, a slow exhale pushing past his lips. still, he doesn’t move, doesn’t rush you, just lets you adjust.

“there we go,” forehead pressed to yours, his voice thick with something like awe. “see? you’re perfect. taking me so well.” you shiver, clutching at him, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“just stay like this,” he murmurs, stroking your back. “breathe. let me feel you.” you do as he says, melting against him, and he groans, wrapping his arms around you. “fuck,” he breathes, nosing against your cheek. “so good for me.”

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[frost-queen]

Player 001 / Young-il x Player!reader

• One more game // part 1

• Choices // part 2

• Six legs // part 3

• X or O // part 4

• Mingle // part 5

• Gimbap // part 6

• Friend or foe // part 7

• Aftermatch // part 8

• Human chess // part 9

• Frontman // part 10

• Fevers // part 11

• Coming // part 12

Salesman / recruiter x reader

• Russian roulette

• Touch so foreign

Hwang Jun-ho x Reader

• Noisy cop

Thanos x reader

• Give you everything

Jun-hee x reader

• Forming bonds

[crushmeeren]

﴾ Trying something new! Everyone is aged up/18+.

Master List Link

﴾ Texting the boys and telling them it’s their fault your back hurts.

Note; written with FEM READER in mind, but I think Eijirou is the only one who says baby girl and Shouto mentions you being Fuyumi’s sister in law. If these suck I’m sorry I tried my best. (✿◠‿◠)

❥ ❥ Bakugou Katsuki

❥ ❥ Todoroki Shouto

❥ ❥ Kirishima Eijirou

❥ ❥ Todoroki Touya

[luvlyycy]

his body quivers .

lin purses his lips in a thin line, cursing himself as he fists his own cock. it's wet, loud— and his ears are ringing. you're stuck in his head, his brain stuck on earlier in the day when he walked in on you in the shower, well, you coming out the shower.

thick drops of water traveling down the valley of your boobs, swaying down your stomach and dripping from your hair. he moans, pupils dilated and blown out as he whispers your name into the empty air of his room. his hand slows around his tip, curling— similar to what he's seen in porn. he's sort of innocent in the sex department, but he's always been awfully sexually driven.

this is the third time he's jerked himself to the thought of you.

he's not bold enough to ever say what he is, which is in love. but he is bold enough to thrust his hips up into his fist and moan shamelessly into his room. his eyes squeeze shut as he imagines your beautiful lips wrapped around his cock— sucking— your eyes pleading for him to cum in your mouth.

"i- i'm gonna— gonna cum. for, for you— fuck."

audio + video >:3c

[buggyboba]

Hi! I know I vanished for so long but I'm back with Doctor Who brain rot. I've been messing around with the idea of Thochei and Master x Reader (probably more Missy x Reader. Because the world needs more Missy.) Anyway, like maybe I'll start doing some drabbles. Some good angst stuff.

-buggy.

[tardistimes]

Apt Apology

Part of The Master's Maniacal Misadventures series. AO3 link.

Cape Canaveral. Florida, November 1967. What you asked for, the Master delivered.

You still eyed him with suspicion as he joined you in the doorway of his TARDIS.

“There you go then. Your pea shooter launches in an hour.”

“Pea shooter?” You said, a frustrating fondness seeping into your tone. With a sharp reminder, you remembered your vow that this was a one-time trip. A trial run he had called it, but it wouldn’t last long. A few hours at most and you’d be able to let O go once and for all. It would be easy – he’d never existed to begin with.

“A launched Saturn V rocket is the loudest sound humans have ever produced.”

“Have ever produced so far.” The Master corrected. “You’ve never heard 10 billion of you screaming in harmony.”

Resolve hardened, you replied acerbically, “Yes. I remember how much you like to torment my species.”

It’s why you were here. His plan to kill humanity thwarted only by the Doctor. A plan she’d unwittingly pulled you into, though you suppose you were always in it. You just didn’t know you were a pawn at the time.

With a small sigh, you looked back at the scene before you. It really was 1967. You were going to watch the first launch of the Saturn V rocket that was sitting across the bay. Hear that almighty boom with your own ears and shield your eyes from the dangerously bright flair on its five F-1 rocket engines igniting.

You started to step out of the TARDIS, drawn by the sight, when a hand stopped you.

“Already losing points in the intelligence column.” The Master snarked. “Forgetting something?”

Glancing down like you would suddenly be missing trousers, you accidentally stumbled across his point. Rather than giving him the satisfaction, however, you used an excuse. “Did you see me pack a change of clothes? In fact,” turning to face him fully, you crossed your arms, “I remember you specifically telling me not to pack.”

“Cast your mind back with greater care, human.” He retorted, careful to say the name of your species with extra derision. “I told you not to pack as the TARDIS has a full wardrobe.”

Letting your lip curl back a fraction, you eyed him slowly before saying, “No offence. But I don’t think dressing as a colourblind geriatric on day leave from the care home is going to help me blend in.”

You didn’t know whether he’d scowl or smile and waiting to see gave you an odd thrill. You didn’t enjoy this. There was nothing of O’s sweetness here, nothing of his kindness, his charity, his passion for the greater good. But when the Master grinned you still saw him, even if his teeth looked a little sharper.

“You know you love it really.” He said, turning sharply so his coat tails would billow.

“Such a drama queen.” You muttered.

“What was that?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Lead the way.” You said theatrically, emphasising each word with care. “I don’t suppose this wardrobe of yours has a hearing aid to complete your look?”

With a shove, you went into the TARDIS ahead of him.

Both looking appropriate for the decade, you stepped back out into the sunshine.

Really, you would’ve been happy living in that wardrobe but you weren’t passing on the chance to get your own back. After spending eighty years trapped on Earth, this location was just as good as any to give the Master a little retribution for all the suffering he’d caused you. He’d be miserable here, you were sure of it. Watching subpar technology in the most insufferable place humanity had to offer – Florida. The humidity had already ruined his coiffure within seconds; that would drive him to new levels of madness in no time.

Clapping your hands together, you looked around gleefully as he locked up.

“Where shall we start? Should we get a spot now or is there time to visit those stalls over though. Oh, that one has ice cream. Have you got any money?”

“Does it look like I’ve got a wallet on me?”

You definitely weren’t going to be tricked into scanning his trousers for a bulge, but you did shoot him an irritated look.

“Again, you told me I didn’t need to bring anything.”

“I can get us money, human. But you won’t like how I do it.”

With a sigh, you figured that was true enough. “Fine, let’s find a good spot. I want the best view.”

“Go back into the TARDIS then. I’ll pilot us to ride alongside the thing.”

Instead you marched forward, toward the crowd of people already gathered on the shoreline. Like you they all had sunglasses on, the Master the only one ridiculous enough to go without. Apparently his superior alien eyes didn’t need them. That or he couldn’t find a pair large enough to fit his head.

You were able to find your own little spot further along the island that sat across from the cape. Unsurprisingly, for the time period, there was no crowd control to push you back.

Unlike the other spectators, you had the foreknowledge to take some ear plugs. Luckily the Master’s TARDIS had some in the wardrobe. His precious alien ears would probably be fine, but you’d like to live to hear another day.

Before you could sit on the grass, the Master put his hand out to stop you again.

“What now?” You said, rolling your eyes.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he somehow produced a fully sized picket blanket.

Staring at him blankly, it took a minute to form words. “How did you fit that in there?”

“The pockets are bigger on the inside.” He answered. “Obviously.”

Laying it out, he gestured for you to sit first then followed you down to the ground. Carefully spreading your skirt over your legs, you glanced at him a few times. You had plenty of questions. How was something bigger on the inside? How did he travel through time? If he was an alien, why didn’t he have spookily long fingers and big eyes? You didn’t ask any of those.

“You said you were planning on coming back. To see me. Once you’d finished your plan.” You started, keeping your eyes on the horizon. Little figures flocked around the rocket, like ants on a leaf from such a distance.

“That’s what I said.” He agreed, unbuttoning his jacket so he could lean back on his forearms.

“But what was the plan, exactly? You were going to turn up on my doorstep, me the only human left in existence, reeling from everyone I’ve ever known dying and… were you going to be O?”

The Master sighed. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his recent failure, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around his return. You could be mourning O; the Master a distant nightmare. Instead he was back and, despite what he said in your kitchen, you still didn’t know why.

“You might have been more amenable if I was O.” He said eventually, once he sensed you wouldn’t let the conversation go. “So, yes. For a time, I would have continued the ruse.”

“And then, at some point, you would have revealed that you’re a time travelling alien? With a spaceship.”

“I always planned to tell you who I really am.” The Master answered carefully. It was a complicated plan and in a way the actual turn of events had made things easier. Even if it meant conceding to the Doctor yet again. Of course, he could’ve taken you but that wouldn’t be interesting. This, this was interesting. You had every reason to turn from him, but you were here. That was interesting, which made you interesting.

“You said. That’s why you gave me those files about the Doctor.”

“Precisely.”

“And you thought that’d work?” You said incredulously, turning to face him. “That I’d be totally fine with everything and we’d – what? Travel together.”

“Actually I thought we’d leave Earth immediately. You knew enough to be exposed to alien technology and there wasn’t much point staying in a wasteland. I mean,” he turned to look around him, “look at this place.”

The sun shone bright overhead, the brilliantly blue sky was lightly dusted with the faintest of clouds, and there was an excited hum in the air as humanity waited for history to unfold before their eyes. You thought it was beautiful. Was he missing something, or were other worlds truly more lovely than your home?

Shaking your head, unable to believe your planet was anything like a wasteland, you asked, “Do you really hate Earth? Or do you just hate anything and anyone that isn’t you? Do you want the universe to yourself?”

His eyes flashed and with a moment of clarity you realised that the thing he hated above everything was himself. And the Doctor, you amended. But there was self-loathing that you could only believe he had let you see. He was too good an actor. Or was this an act for your sympathy? He could be playing you again.

“Did you come here for the history or the bang?” The Master asked, leaning toward you as a darkness fell over his face. “Better yet. Did you come here because you wanted to or because you wanted to punish me?”

It was his turn to see something in your eyes and with a smile he knew. “We’re more alike than you realise. Different enough to make things interesting. Maybe we’ll learn to love it. Maybe we’ll grow to hate it.”

“Not knowing.” You said slowly, realising why he wanted you here.

“Even as O you saw me better than most. And the people who do see already hate me.” He sat back, resting on his arms again. “This is different. Live long enough, different becomes interesting.”

“Why, how old are you?”

“That, human, is a very rude question. According to your culture anyway.” He deflected.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So you hate Earth, hate humans, but you want to follow the standards of polite society?”

He shot you a dirty look that had you laughing even harder.

“I get it, I get it. You only like rules when they work for you. That’s right.” You grinned. “And if I ever try to hide between the same rule, you’ll ignore it. Like a hypocrite.”

“Don’t try and guess the future, love. This will only end faster.”

You felt the joy drain from your eyes but it quickly recovered when you heard a murmur pass through the crowd.

“It’s time.” The Master said ominously. “Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

He started to lay back but you thwacked his knee with your hand. “You’re not sleeping through this. It’s the loudest noise.”

“Says the woman who’s never heard it.”

Shushing him, you were still pleased when you felt him sit up and rearrange himself to rest beside you on the rug with thinly veiled impatience.

“Fine. Just you wait. Once you’ve seen the stars, you’ll realise how dull…”

Whatever he was saying, not that you’d been paying attention, was drowned out by the most deafening roar you’d ever heard. And that was with your ear drums safely protected. Smoke billowed out, stretching to the banks opposite your side of the river and flames shot out from beneath the rocket. Inexplicably, this giant vehicle was propelled up, the force of the explosion outweighing its vast size. Eyes wide, you followed every second. You knew what was going to happen, but feeling the blast ripple through your bones was entirely different. You were really here.

The Master watched the side of your face, not in the slightest interested in primitive Earth technology. The delight in your eyes, that was interesting. Very interesting, he mused to himself.

When the rocket passed out of sight and the crowd finished clapping, when your heartrate steadied and your hands stopped shaking, the Master ushered you off the blanket.

“Right. Off we go. Time to go see some real planets.”

He left the blanket on the ground and you started to protest.

“You can’t just leave it here, it’s littering.”

“Oh come on.” He said, snatching your arm to drag you along. “The TARDIS has everything we need.”

Well, in that case, you guessed someone else would find use for it. Dropping your arm, the Master walked without a backward glance to unlock the door. He left it wide open – infuriatingly confident, you could tell, that you’d follow him. And, as you stalked after him, you found that your irritation was nearly nothing next to your excitement.

The trail run might last longer than one trip after all.

[kpop-otome-yandere-here]

Mammon: I cut my finger

Mc: I can kiss it, so it'll get better

Mammon: That works?

Mc: Yeah, my mum used to do it when I was little

*later*

Mammon: I need you to punch me in the mouth

Levi: Fucking finally

[sleepy-fiction]

Fists In The Backline.

iron fist x fem!reader SMUT

Lin Lie fucking the shit out of the enemy healer. "You're not going back to the mission area. Ever."

tgs: exhibitionism, voyeurism, watersports, minor breeding kink, ironfist physically overpowers reader, dubcon, wrestling, bdsm, unbalanced power dynamics, prey/hunter, compassionate hard dom lin, fem reader, bunny nickname, no romance pure fucking but a lot of sweetness from them

an: i loved writing this, I'm even considering a pt 2 w them as undercover fckbuddies. Also, time works diff here than playing a marvels match. BARELY proofread

4.9K WORDS

"Fuuhh fuh-Uck! Lin... Lin, we gotta goo back," you can't even manage a full sentence underneath the barrage of thrusts. Lin Lie has you bent over a broken pillar in the Royal Palace, his thick cock berating your hole as you grunt and dig your nails into the ridges.

You were 20 meters away from the mission area, your radar pinging your teammates' dangerously low health. With the leader board showing 68% to 43% of mission area captured, the latter being your team's.

It was quick how Iron Fist noticed how your heals carried your team hard. You were all in the lead for the first half of the battle, dogging them with an amazing 30% to 1%, and for hellish minutes, not a single member of his team could land a step on the mission area.

That was until he devised his plan, rounding up all his team to attack you, and you only with him hounding them to trust him. It was an even bloodier battle, but he eventually got you, but he got crushed by your team's Panther right as he did so.

This wasn't the last you'd see him. As right as you spawned, you saw the terrifying sight of an enemy IronFist, standing directly in the backlines, ogling you in spawn. At first, you were prepared for another battle, but a passionate zeal fell upon IronFist, his powers spilling out a green mist, and he incapacitated you within seconds.

His strong punch flung you into the cracked pillar behind you, the grand marble caving in under your weight. You spat out, "Augh," as gravity carried you to the floor, your ribcage and arm slung over the broken piece.

Dammit.

He was going to kill you and send you back to spawn after you tried your best escape.

You heard the familiar crunch of heavy shoes on shattered marble, and in a last ditch effort, you threw out your final weak attack. It did nothing. In fact, Iron Fist simply side stepped it. Wild feral anger crossed your eyes as you flipped to face him, legs too weak to stand.

You growled with a boom, "You back-lining asshole! You think this is a fair fucking fight? Huh? Think this is righteous?" You stated up at him, as his large muscular body casted a shadow over you.

He was tall and intimidating, his broad shoulders steered the sun away, and his proud biceps flexed in his crossed arms. The way his mask hugged at his eyes mysteriously, the way he stood strong with confidence- wisdom; something you haven't quite cracked yet. You were a new hero on the scene. You weren't accepted by all yet.

You had too much to prove and too much to lose in this fight. Not him, though. He was one of the many glorious Iron Fists. If it were any other circumstance, you would have given up, talked nice, and at least admire such an inspiring hero. But not here, not now.

Not when he was playing so fucking dirty, and ripping your precious moment from your claws.

Your eyes gleamed with spite.

Skkrt!

Your radio buzzed. Starlord's voice interrupted your stare down, "Where the hell are you, kid? We need those heals now!"

Your heart sunk to your core.

You shouted, "Well?" Grabbing up chunks of broken marble rocks and throwing it meekly at Iron Fist. They seemed to ricochet off his stature, but finally, finally, he moved.

Iron Fist sunk down a bit, grabbed your shoulder and kept you in place on the ground. "Hey, what the fuck," you spat. You thrashed around, but he sunk on one knee between your legs and raised his other mighty hand on your shoulder, clamping you down in place. You cried, but his face shot close to you.

You gasped in the closeness, you could see the beads of sweat that plagued his face and neck, how his shiney spikey hair absorbed the sunlight and reflected dark colors of husky brown. How his strong jawline complimented the structure of his masked eyes. How the tip of his nose was just as pink as his plump lips. You gulped.

He finally spoke.

"You're not going to back Mission Area. Ever," he hushed. The command sent shivers down you.

"W-Why not," you still growled at him.

"You're too good. You're the only thing keeping your uncoordinated team alive. The only one reminding those guys to stay on checkpoint. And I wanna win... So," he grins, it's devilish the way it makes you stir in fear. He's so confident, so precise, it steals your breath from under you.

An established hero recognized you.

Sskt-- "I need backup dammit! Where are my god damn heals," Winter Soldier booms.

"Hey hey! Take your time! Or don't. But listen could'ya uh... At least make it quick! No worries though," Spiderman buzzes in.

You glanced down at your Radar, the enemy team has completely caught up. They managed to tie in the 12 minutes you've been away from the battlefield.

You whimper, "Fuuck- Oh no." Despair strikes your face, but it's drowned out by the humored laugh Lin Lie releases.

You whip at him, "You can't keep me here forever! I'll notify Black Panther on my Rad--"

Within seconds, your radar is snatched, "Hey--", and crushed in-between thick hands. Your coms buzzes before blinking off. Lin, all the while, is smiling dangerously hard.

"Hehe! No can do!"

You launch forward in a rage, "You stupid fucking asshole," grabbing chunks of his uniform and sending him to the floor. You straddle his body, desperately trying to rip and claw at his face. His laugh turns into chuckles as he blocks you, eventually grabbing your wrists, stuffing a leg under your chest, and flipping you over him and onto the floor.

You crash land on your back hard, but before you could even gather out a groan, he's onto of you. Ironfist drops his weight on your hips, catching your arms above your head in a quick biff.

"You've got such fire! Such passion--"

"Die! Die, you backlining freak!"

"--You're truly one of a kind. You'll be a great hero when you're ready. No. You already are," he smiled too fondly.

You gasped, your chest heaving as your anger suddenly dies down.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can make this hard," He leans down, his free hand against the floor beside your head. He took up all your view. Despite it all, your eyes flickered from his lips to his masked face.

You whimpered. Awe as terror mixing a dangerous concoction on your face.

This was too intimate.

Even Lin hesitated, simply staring at your face.

There was no doubt in his mind that the newest hero on the scene was gorgeous. Especially to him. You were a true strategist with an empathic heart and a pretty face. Cute eyes with tulips for lips. You trained hard, deep into the early morning when he began his training, and he always caught you staying longer than you should just to admire the way he fought.

Most heros become recognized and lose their precision. Not you, you were sharpening the arrowhead until the oil burned.

He admired you so damn much he even switched his usual spot in the after-match lunch room just so he could have a clear view of you over through Rocket's short head. Even the way you ate was cute. You were always so starry-eyed and excited when conversing with your mates, Storm and Squirrel Girl.

He'd be a liar to say he wasn't taking advantage of it all right now.

"Pretty thing," he mutters. It's loud enough for you to hear. It's sadistic, the way he chuckles a little before continuing, "Got no where to run." He wants to see those glossy eyes brim with anger, just one more time.

Where's your zealous spirit?

You can feel your face warm. You know you shouldn't, but somewhere you got lost in his presence, lost gazing between that mysterious mask and those deliciously soft lips. Those plump, full lips of his. Just as pink as the tip of his nose. You whimper ever too submissively, "What're you 'gonna do to me..." You can't even mask your desire, your tone pleading and desperate. The sort of pleading, desperate tone that drowns in sensuality, as your voice is reduced to a breathy, stammery mess.

He disrespected you but...

You didn't get angry. Hell, that's far from anger.

You're panting a little too heavy, you're staring dead at his lips, you're drowning in his presence, melting like butter, yet as alert as a rabbit in the snares of a fox.

He's losing his fucking mind.

You are totally into him. You like him.

He's overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, the shockwave of seduction that blows in from those rabbit breaths.

He should do the right thing.

But god, he wants to take advantage of this.

What other time would he ever get you this turned on, and be in position to be the lucky one who gets to please you?

But should he do it here? Out in the open, where prying eyes could disrespect you? Holding you hostage, overpowering you physically?

Why did all these factors make it impossibly hotter?

Was it worth risking it all for a once-in-a-lifetime erotic escapade?

And with those sweet eyes shifting from pupil to pupil, you really did look like a tied up rabbit.

Fuck it.

Let's fuck like rabbits.

He raises back, his hand testing the waters, releasing your wrists, and clamping a strong hand on your neck. You call out and whimper, yet never look away, eagerly awaiting, your heart drumming in your chest. His grip is tight but not suffocating. His hands are so damn large, and your neck almost feels like nothing to him. And fuck you're so turned on. You shut your eyes, limp your head back, and ease tense shoulders, flashing him the underside of your chin.

He feels himself harden in his pants, his eyes widening in disbelief and jaw falling slack.

You moaned so sexily and fell limply in his arms like a fainting princess.

Yeah no.

That's one gigantic green light. He pulled you off the ground by your neck, raising your body up to meet his, you gasp out, meekly throwing your hands on his forearms, your grip almost nonexistent.

"I'm going to realign your guts," he smiles wistfully, a hearty and amused laugh leaving him.

There you found yourself, your pants bunched around your knees, your elbows on the broken pillar, and your drippingly wet ass perked up in doggy. The rest of your clothes are disheveled and barely put on right, as Lin's egerously largest hands were, just minutes prior, groping you everywhere on your soft body. It didn't take long for either of you to get deathly aroused. In fact, half the foreplay was skipped, per your request, just so you could feel him.

"Hurry-hurry-hurry," you ramble out, shaking your ass with a delicious whine. He catches it immediately with his bandaged hand, his fingers itching with the addiction of feeling your skin. "I can't take it anymore Iron Fist," you say.

He winces hard. You're so shameless, so bold. It's driving him insane. He shakes, desperate to keep control of himself, as he slowly slides his giant cockhead against your lips. You moan, arching viciously. His thickness peck and slip through your folds, collecting your slick before finally dipping in.

His head is fat, his whole cock itself was 8 inches long. Bulky and burly over skinny. It's fatter towards the center, perfectly straight and just as pink as his lips. Your hole chokes up on his head alone, stretching to meet his plump demands.

Bzztk-- "Iron Fist. Keep it up! Whatever it is, it's working," Hela's voice breaks through the slience. You moan at the lewdity of it all, your toes curling.

Bzzt-- IronFist holds his radar, buzzing it on, "Mmf- Thanks! The fight hasn't been easy! We've been battling it out nonestop," he suddenly plunges in, his cock now halfway in.

You abruptly groan out, "G-Gaa--"

"--Oh no! You're not getting away! Get over here," but he covers it up smoothly.

Bzzt-- "Good work, Lin. Keep it up," Cloak's voice slithers out.

Lin snickers, "You know I will," and the radio shuts off.

You finally moan out all that you couldn't before. "It's soo b-big Iron Fist," you mewl, dropping your chin to rest against the pillar.

"M'hehe," he pushes in more, "Just call me Lin, okay?" His voice is gentle and sweet, both of his strong hands securely gripping your hips. You can feel his blazing warmth not only from his piping dick but from his palms. Combined, it all brings aroused tingles to your brain. "It's Lin Lie, hero."

"My name is--" He slams into you, bottoming out.

You groan out, but he shuts you up quick by leaning forward, reaching, and stuffing your mouth with two of his fingers. His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb resting by the corner of your eye. "Hey, you're still new okay? You gotta protect your identity. Don't give it up for sex," he scolds.

"You'thh thdid itt," you manage out.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing this for a while," he says. He rubs circles with his palm on your juicy ass, admiring every part of how his cock feels in your velvety walls. How you pulse around him and invite him in so nicely. He's thrusting slow into you by now, only taking himself out an inch before sinking back in. He looks from your ass to your face as he does so. "Is that good," he asks, eyes lidding behind the mask.

He sighs out deeply the way a man would after cigarettes when he's finally able to start doing some sort of moving. His grip tight, his restraint dwindling. It's not his fault your tight walls suck him back as he pulls out, not his fault your cervix likes to kiss his tip so nicely. Fuck, all he wants to do now is fuck you like a dog and play with your clit while doing it. All he wants is to make you lose yourself again and get the pleasure you were begging for.

You cry, "Mmyes, morr' Lin. I canh'take morr' than this." Your voice vibrates around his fingers. His hands have you leaned up, your fingertips being the only thing keeping you connected with the pillar. And you find how befitting the blue sky is with an ass full of cock.

"Ffu-- Good," he moans. Lin starts to let loose, starting paced. His dick bangs into your stomach, the fulling sensation of him smothering your hot insides, releasing sloppy, loud squelches into the air.

Your senses are immediately overidden, as you bite down onto his fingers, and move back against his cock. "Ooh'ff! Ooh," you moan blissfully. His lips clench in concentration, as you feel him dig and dig, until finally- your hand slams against the pillar with a loud, "Ff-Yeessh'!"

He laughs sweetly, "Oooh yeah? That's your sweet-spot? Huh, beauty?" He groans breathlessly, precusely digging and fucking his tip into that spot.

His large dick is fucking against your bladder, your toes squeeze ice tight, your moans echoing across the palace walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, your back drowing in sweat already, annoyed by your superclothing that restrain you. "Gotth'a pee," you mutter against his fingers, his thick digits familiarizing itself with your drool.

"Go'n'head 'n release. Ffuck... nobody's gonna see you anymore today," he groans. Your walls spasmed in fear and anticipation at his devilish sugarcoated words. Lin's hand finally slips from your mouth, and you fall back onto your elbows. His other hand, join him in holding your hips. He lifts your hips up more, your knees now hovering an inch off the ground. Your weight meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Keep an eye on the score, would you," he says as he tosses his radar infront of you. You sloppily turn it over, shock filling your soul.

You first cry out in despair, "Fuck it's at sixty-sev-- Oooh! Yess," but the sound quickly morphs into pure bliss. Your head drops down dumbly as Lin's pace turns into madness. No longer did the sweet, consideriate, paced thrusts exist, as now he fucked you expeditiously. His stout cock was rapid and precise, its unrelenting speed just as inescapable as his zealous fists.

Your hand reach out into the air around you, gripping at absolutely nothing to anchor you to this world and not the galaxy of stars behind your eyelids. His grunts and groans got louder, the stuttering sounds ever so deep and blissful. He fucked you so hard you could feel your elbows slip forward on the pillar, until you were no longer holding onto it, but your stomach rested on it, and your hands planted into the dirt.

Your toes curled, as your greedy pussy clenched down on him. The sloppy wet sounds combined with the intense clapping of skin to skin competed against your wailing cries. Your bladder gave out within seconds of it all, squinting hard as your bladder was pressed by both sides. On the inside, it was battered by Lin's passionate head, but on the outside, it was smothered by the broken pillar. Your legs twitched and jerked, hands deep in the dirt.

You cried, "L-Lin! Oooh fuck! Mmff' let's go baack." The only thing else to look at was the scoreboard, watching helplessly as the enemy team reached a terrifying 78 percent, ten more gained in the three minutes from last time you checked. They were kicking your team's ass, hard.

"Nno can do bunny-- Haa... I've 'gotta- wwin-uh," he moans out. He suddenly stops, forcedly adjusting himself, as he lays a foot down on the pillar, his body leaning down towards you, as he forces your face into the dirt; large hand pressing the back of your head down. In this new position, your knees slipped up to catch yourself, now finding themselves on the pillar, your pants now barely held on by your feet, and Lin stood in the calamity, a perfectly smooth transition, as his left hand stayed put on your hips.

He asks, "You 'kay?" But barely waits as he instantly begins to pound you into the dirt. By now, all of his thrusts are sloppy, his grunts loud into the air, curses flying off his lips like a mantra, "Ffuck-fuck-fuck-- mm."

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum!

He's still going full steam ahead inside of you. You were overstimulated beyond compare, your poor sweet clit was swollen and enlarged, pulsating hard for friction. The slightest touch of it would send you flying to heaven and back. No way we're you gonna be left high and wet without a mind-fucking orgasm.

"Mmm- My Clit," you screeched like a parrot, your moans filled with more light headed gasps than sounds.

Lin released your head, leaning all the way up, and using his hand how to reach between you and spin your clit. The muscle was pre-drenched in the downpour of your lust. And in your wake, "I'm cumming!--", you ripped chunks from the earth, squirting out one final time.

"Aaa-haah, me too," Lin could barely laugh, as he was overtaken by mindless groans as he slammed rough into you for the final time, shooting his first ribbon deep inside you. He pulled out, shooting his second, before roughly slamming balls-deep in for the third. His moans were feral and mindless, only caring about dumping his hot load into your cervix.

Shit. That totally wasn't good but you'd take care of--

Bbzzt-- "Another Amazing Victory!"

Your eyes popped open to the radar.

The scoreboard: 100% to 49%

Your knees slipped back onto the dirt as he pulled out, your stomach back resting on the pillar as you stared at the results with angered eyes.

"See, what'd I tell ya, bunny," his cock rudely finds its way back inside, he continues, "You carried your team." He leans down on you, his chest on your back as he hooks an arm under yours. It slots between your breasts and grabs your neck, pulling you completely off the ground as he stands up with you, his hard dick still inside. Your legs twitch, and a sultry mewl leaves you, your piss drenched pants slipping to the ground.

You can hear Lin groan deep into your ear, "Sorry, bunny, just one more round. I promise it'll be just one more... I need this, please. Trust me," and it sends delicious tingles down your spine.

It's only then, from this sight of him holding you, that you can see your surroundings and really focus in on the fact that you were on royal grounds, fucking where any unlucky bastard could see.

And oddly, your eyes kept glancing to a crow perched up on a pillar in the distance.

Fuck.

Eeh.

Well.

"Okaayy," you mewl braindead-ly. "Mmh, make it rough Lin pleasee," you whine, clenching tight around him in anticipation.

"Your wish is my command, bunny," he whispers fiendishly so.

read part 2?

[sleepiedahlia]

HIS WINGS

FEATURING: LUCIFER,MAMMON,ASMODEUS,BEELZEBUB,DIAVOLO,SIMEON

TW: some suggestive things in some but mostly fluff:)

HIS WINGS (YOU ARE HERE)|HIS TAIL

LUCIFER

-it would take a while for him to show you his wings let alone touch them

-but when he does please be gentle! and make sure it's in private because his pride will get destroyed

-but his wings have this soft feeling and they look very clean from all the care he puts into them

-later on he'll let you help preen them because four wings is a lot for one person

-but it's also a way for him to show how much he loves you and it's good bonding time too!

-his most sensitive place with his wings is where his wings meet with his back

-he really likes when you take your time with each wing because to him it shows you care and are willing to put the time in to help

-and sometimes at night when he lets his wings unravel and let them be out he'll wrap them around you when you cuddle with him

-and the same goes when your in bed too when in the heat of the moment he'll wrap his wings around you to pull you in closer to him

MAMMON

-like lucifer it would take him a bit to let you see his wings but not as long though

-his wings have a leathery feel to them and the ends of his wings like the spikes almost feel like plaster but a little stronger

-he may not put that much care since there not feathery either but he still cleans them once in a while, enough to look like he cleans them more often then he does

-he does let you touch them often though after he gets used to you which is pretty quick and he also likes the attention when you touch them

-his most sensitive area would be then end of his wings

-a lot of times when you cuddle he will also keep them wrapped around you

-his wings are also very useful in the hot summer because he can move his wings around to give cool air:)

ASMODEUS

-he will just ask you to touch them straight up after a week of knowing each other

-his wings look leathery but they don't feel like it they kind of feel like a thin blanket but that still feels really nice

-he will not let anyone else touch his wing except you, he can't have his pretty wings dirty and who know where other demons hands have been!

-he definitely has his wings out around you and he has special masks for his wings to keep them the way they are

-when he cuddles with you it's him laying his head on your chest and his wings wrapping around your waist and his hands around your neck

-he also has his wings out in bed too because he likes to use them to toy with you when your under him

-or it's a situation with you on top and his wings keeping you close by wrapping them around your waist

BEELZEBUB

-he refrained from showing his wings as well because of his sensitive they are and how easily they could get teared up because of how close they are to bugs wings

-but when he does he warns you on how sensitive they are but he will let you touch as much as you want as long as he trusts you

-again his wings are closed related to a flys wings or a bugs wings so they are very thin so they could easily rip apart

-he sometimes has his wings out but not often but he won't cuddle with them out either

-but if you like insect anatomy he will gladly let you look at them to study if you wanted!

DIAVOLO

-so help lucifer if he ever saw you touch diavolos wings he would about be in his grave

-but diavolo would love when you touch his wings!

-his wings are like mammons and feel like leather but around the spikes of his wings feel like silicone or plaster

-he would love if you decorated his wings with things that match him

-but his wings have a decorative shape on the base of his back that goes up his wing and like lucifer where his wings meet his back is his most sensitive place

-he'll cuddle with his wings around you like a protective sheild

-it's a 50/50 if he had them out in bed it's not a total yes or no but when he does he uses them to fan you firming it to cool you both down

SIMEON

-you would have to ask first but you must wash your hands with holy water before touching, ever touch had to be pure

-his wings aren't to sensitive but his wings feel soft and silky every time you touch them

-sometimes his wings feel like a really fuzzy blanket so they are nice to lay on if you have trouble sleeping

-he will let you preen them but again wash your hands with holy water and after you finish cleaning he puts some holy water on his wings

-he will gladly have them out around you and he would love to cuddle you with his wings and the hugs are literally heaven too because his wings are so soft

-he will never have them out in bed his wings need to be pure he needs to feel pure when doing the do

@SLEEPIEDAHLIA

- PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK! BUT PLEASE ADD CREDIT IF YOU USED MINE AS A REFERENCE FOR A POST! PLEASE AND THANK YOU! -

[mallowsweetmiri]

Hogwarts in Spring 🌷✨🌱📚