#Seriously I try to keep my fics accessible for guest readers because a couple of them asked

[foodsies4me]

So much fun to wake up to shitty comments on a fic that has a clearly stated « not beta read » tag.

[xenteaart]

Diplomacy Failure

Summary: The Master and you have an established friendship, a bromance - you’re basically partners in crime. One day the Master comes up with this grand robbery scheme but it takes him months to plan the whole thing out properly, and by the end of it - he’s getting way too impatient and reckless. That’s where you step in.

Warnings: none, pure fluff again

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Reader

Note: This was supposed to be a short thing so I decided not to create a whole ass backstory around it. The main reason why I wanted to write this was because I usually see MC being mostly submissive in fics (not that there’s anything wrong with it whatsoever) and I craved some diversity so here it goesss. 

Huge thanks and lots of love to my incredible beta @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ i love you to bits <3

The last few months have been hard to say the least. After years of knowing the Master you’d grown accustomed to his severe mood swings, but this was something else. 

Most of the time you never really bothered to get to know all the details of his typically complex and intricate schemes. You simply trusted him with those and did what he asked you to do, not taking any liberty to make your own decisions because he did know better. He was the one spending restless days and nights planning everything out after all, so you never really questioned anything. Until today. 

He was getting impatient and it wasn’t a good thing at all. 

The Master had an impressive set of skills, the ability to wait and execute slow-burn plans exceptionally well being one of them. However this time, he got way too invested in what he was doing, his near obsession leading you to believe it had something to do with the Doctor in the long run.

As for now, he needed to get his hands on something “very valuable and very important” and he was planning to steal it, of course. It was no common robbery though, the ship you were now finding yourselves on was huge. No, massive, so simply threatening a few creatures with his TCE and acquiring the object wasn’t a viable option. The ship’s obscenely advanced security systems were not working in your favor either.

The two of you were pretending to be a regular married couple, mere visitors to the event and so painfully ordinary in your nature as to not draw any attention. Keeping a low profile was essential.

The Master called from somewhere below the console where corridors led to the wardrobe room, and since you weren’t occupied with anything even remotely important you joined him right away. You were happy to merely see him and talk to him considering he now preferred the company of a thousand papers with all sorts of layouts, schemes, his own scribbles and something else in Gallifreyan that you had no way of understanding. 

“What’s that?” you asked, a little taken aback by his excessively fancy suit. 

“Your dress is right there, try it on and see if it fits,” he said casually as he looked in the mirror, ignoring your question and waving his hand at the sophisticated purple dress that was laid out on a nearby sofa. 

Ah. Matching outfits. He could never resist the drama of it.

You looked at the dress, the decoration on it exquisite and lavish. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you tried not to laugh too loudly.

“If that’s for tomorrow, we’re not wearing that.” you uttered, not even trying to hide your amused grin at this point.

“What? Why?”

“Because we need to be wearing this,” you pointed at a horrendous blue suit and a dress of the matching color, the shade and design of both so ugly and simplistic that the clothing wouldn’t look good on either of you. 

A displeased frown flitted across the Master’s features.

“Come on, we need to look pitiful. Men of wealth love playing charity and chatting with lower class people, helping them out with whatever. It makes them feel better about themselves, boosts their ego.” you elaborated, your words heavily accompanied by expressive hand waving and vocal shifts.

He blinked a couple of times and looked at himself in the mirror again, trying to make peace with the idea of this fashion crime you were both about to commit.

The first step of his plan was relatively easy - he was doing the networking and you were doing the smiling as the two of you were slowly getting closer and closer to higher rank guests that were usually a little too drunk and clueless to not accidentally give away the information you needed most, that being - where the security control room was located. Getting a sample of some rich and wasted guest’s DNA was also part of the job since they all had unlimited access to all parts of this ship. As of now, you were getting a feeling you were never even going to make it to that point. 

The Master wasn’t very good at tolerating stupidity, especially when nobody knew and feared who he was. To all of these arrogant and self-absorbed upper class assholes, he was literally a peasant. Little did they know. 

You could see his hand playing with the TCE in his pocket as he was seriously considering whether to take it out and end this shitshow here and now. That would probably feel really good for a couple of minutes but then both of you would be captured and very likely executed on the spot because no matter how intimidating and dangerous the Master was - the quantity of creatures on the ship would be an undeniable advantage on their side. Plus, he’d spent so much time on plan A, there wasn’t any room for plan B, you figured.

Granted, dying wasn’t something the Master was ever afraid of. But you were human with no spare lives, so his impatience would mean very bad news for you.

“Don’t you want to take a break from this?” you asked timidly, standing in the doorway and not daring to let yourself into the Master’s working space just yet since knocking on the door did nothing to catch his attention. 

He was rapidly glancing all over the papers, his mind being evidently busy with something of more significance than your presence. 

“I can get you some coffee if you like? Or... anything at all, really,” you made another attempt at starting a conversation but it was met with silence once again, except this time you noticed hints of irritation in the way he was making notes and moving things around his table, mercilessly digging his pen into his notebook and purposely making a lot more noise while searching for something buried under these piles of paper.

“Yeah, no worries then.” you sighed as you saw yourself out of the room. 

You were getting fed up with this.

As you were standing next to him and contemplating your options, you felt the air around you change a little. It was an insignificant shift but you were particularly sensitive to emotional fields people and other creatures tended to create, and right now the atmosphere did not feel friendly.

You looked at the Master and then back at the greenish humanoid looking creature he was talking to. The conflict was clearly starting to develop, filling the space around you with tension and unease. 

You were so close to the control room, you couldn’t let that happen. There were only a few more floors you had to pass in order to get to the royalty hall where your main mission would be taking place. 

“For Christ’s sake.” you thought to yourself, recognizing the familiar burning anger in the Master’s eyes as he was slowly losing his already weak grasp on his temper and reaching for his pocket, his actions now fuelled with proper intention of making the man pay for his disrespect and bad manners.

The problem with the Master was - no matter how brilliant and clever his ideas were, his emotions and temper would always get in the way. You had to learn it the hard way by nearly getting killed a couple of times because of it in the past. But pissing off a few soldiers and running away was one thing, and acting hostile on a space station sized ship with no quick way out was a completely different story. 

“I am so sorry, sir, my husband suffers from this terrible condition,” you spoke as you looked at the Master intensely, doing your best to wordlessly communicate with him and beg him to stay silent, “where he gets unreasonably aggressive when he’s upset.”

The man’s expression was now plagued with confusion but it was a good sign, you thought. He was paying attention.

“He’s just frustrated we can’t yet afford to lead a life like yours, sir. Isn’t that right, darling?” you patted the Master on the back, your voice now so sugary sweet it made you want to vomit, but you were committed to your little act and nothing could stop you.

“Please forgive our jealousy, we simply wish to be more like you but it pains us to realize we’re a long way away from that,” saying this made your skin itch, and you were pretty sure the Master’s eye was twitching a little. You looked at him briefly and noted he was indeed… puzzled. 

Your flattery seemed to work wonders on the man’s self esteem, though, his facial expression momentarily switching to pity and its default arrogance mixed with pride. 

You tried not to make eye contact with the Master as you were escorting him away, your hand wrapped around his elbow. Your heart was beating a little too fast for your liking, and your main concern for now was peacefully leaving the floor and avoiding any more fuss on the way because, honestly, you were getting angry yourself.

---

“What the hell was that?” was the first thing he asked you as soon as you both entered the TARDIS safely, the two of you still slightly out of breath from your usual cardio on your way back; the desired object sitting securely in the Master’s pocket.

“I was actually going to ask you this exact same question, how convenient.” you snapped, kicking off your heels and making your way to the console barefoot, the cold metal floor having a soothing effect on your aching feet.

The Master gave you a grim look as he took off his ridiculous and evidently uncomfortable jacket, and swiftly marched towards you. His intimidating aura rarely had any impact on you and you didn’t even flinch at his intrusion of your personal space. You knew all too well he would never hurt you deliberately. 

“I did not allow you to intervene.” 

“You should have seen your face, darling,” you said mockingly, maintaining intense eye contact as if it was a competition on who looks away first. 

“You should have heard your voice, such sweetness and flattery I was worried you were gonna kiss his ring at the end of your speech or something,” he spat out his words with grimaced disgust. 

The two of you stared at each other in complete silence for about half a minute, and your facade dropped first. You burst into laughter, giggling obnoxiously at the memory of the Master’s pure and sincere confusion. You’d never seen him so baffled and mad, the funniest thing of it all being the fact that he had to comply and play along. It made you a little proud of yourself.

The corner of the Master’s lips twitched, his stubbornness and denial still fighting his urge to crack up, but a couple of moments later he finally joined you. Any trace of annoyance was long gone, and a wide smile took over his person as he laughed out loud with you. 

“Idiot.” he commented, still chuckling and grinning while also unbuttoning his lousy shirt. You both wanted to get out of those trashy clothes as soon as possible. 

You suddenly went quiet. With no further talking you simply stepped forwards and hugged the Master tightly, burying your nose in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you.”

He hugged you back, resting one of his hands on your head and ruffling your hair, so very aware of how much you hated it. 

“Missed you too, fool.”

[kylorengarbagedump]

Unprofessional Services: Chapter 3

Read on AO3. Part 2 here. Part 4 here.

Summary: You don't know what the hell Kylo Ren is talking about. So what if he can read your mind? He's full of shit.

Words: 2500

Warnings: None

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Eee! Hello! Thank you all so much for your feedback and support! This story is moving much slower, relationship wise, than my other fics, but I promise it'll pick up soon, for all those concerned, haha.

The next couple weeks may be kind of sparse, writing wise. I've fallen behind because of stress at home that hopefully will be taken care of shortly, and I'll be able to write properly, again. I hope this isn't too much trouble for y'all. :3

Thanks so much! I love you <3

“Anti-therapy?” Rue stabbed at her plate of Finalizer mess-hall slop. “Sounds like bullshit.”

You sighed, mimicking her movement. Your utensil was buried in the soft excuse for food. “I know, right?” Reluctantly, you stuffed a bite into your mouth. “Even worse, my client is… not cooperative.”

She huffed. “That’s not a surprise. He has to be some kind of special for Hux to make you do anti-therapy on him.”

“Accurate assessment.” You hadn’t told Rue that your client was, in fact, Commander Ren. Not that she couldn’t know--she had access to all the same information that you did. It just wouldn’t have been appropriate to divulge in the middle of the busy cafeteria. Another sigh. “And now Fent’s all… frustrated and stuff. It’s annoying.”

“Isn’t that how he always is?” Rue grinned. Her cobalt eyes glimmered with mischief.

“Ha-ha,” you said. “Very funny. No. He’s… he’s getting a lot better, actually. We just need to get off the ship. Y’know.”

She nodded, stiffening. “Sure.”

“Really, though.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

The air was thick with words unsaid. You scrambled internally. Was she still mad at you for the last time? “Um. Anyway.” Shoving another mouthful of food past your lips, you shrugged. “It’s total bullshit, yeah.”

“Today’s your first session?” Rue took another bite herself.

You nodded with reluctance. As you stared at your food, it was looking less and less appetizing. There’d only been a few bites out of it, but the reality of facing the Commander again was making your stomach gargle your courage. “Heading there right after this. Woo-fucking-hoo.”

“Hey,” she said, and reached across the table. Her hand, soft and warm, enveloped yours. Blood rushed your face. Did this have to happen now? “You’ve got this.”

“Thanks.” Your chest tightened, and drew your hand back, tossing your utensil into the gloop. “I think I’m gonna go, actually.”

Rue frowned. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You haven’t finished your… uh, food. Yet.”

“Yeah,” you said, standing. “Talk to you--”

“Wait.” She paused, sighing. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

Clicking your jaw, you looked to the side. “It’s fine, Rue.”

“No, no.” She threw up her hands. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have tried to push you like that--”

“Just. Drop it.” You huffed, rubbing your temple. “I know you hate Fent. I get it. Okay?”

Rue’s eyes widened. “C’mon. No. It’s not like that.”

“It kind of is, though.” Grimacing, you shrugged. “Look. I have to go. We’ll… we’ll talk later. Okay? Okay. Bye.”

You pushed forward, chin jutting out as you marched out of the cafeteria and through the halls of the Finalizer. Your cheeks were hot. It’s not that you were mad at Rue, perse. You just hated how every discussion that mentioned Fent had to become a snide way to insult him. Rue had never been through what Fent had been through--it was totally unfair for her to keep taking shots at him. It wasn’t as if you had a choice, anyway. He was your boyfriend. Your partner. You had to support him.

Chest still tight, you arrived in your office, snatching your datapad and smashing your fingers onto the glass. Oh, you’d make this a productive meeting, you were certain. Ren would regret ever trying to mess with you. Now that he was your only client, you had no reservations about spending as much time as possible on his casefile. And you’d do this to ensure that Hux could never blame you for this assignment’s inevitable failure. You checked the chronometer. His appointment time--as delivered to you via Hux--wasn’t for another fifteen minutes. You could guess, then, that you had at least thirty.

Yet, as you started typing--Client is an adult male of questionable age and maturity…--your door swept open, the client in question stepping through and blocking the threshold as the hatch shut behind him. Glancing up from your datapad, you scanned his frame--bunched shoulders, tight fists--and set your pad on your desk.

“You’re early, Commander.”

“I wouldn’t want to disrespect you, officer.”

So that’s what this was. “Oh, of course, Commander,” you said. “Nevermind that by ignoring the set time--regardless of your lateness or lackthereof--you’re still demonstrating your disregard for myself and for this process.”

He tilted his head. “I believe I’ll survive.”

Ren strode into the room, glancing at the chair across from you, but then deciding to forgo sitting altogether. Instead, he crossed to the corner of the room, standing there and shifting on his feet, as if to indicate it was your turn to speak. You raised your eyebrows, cutting off a sigh in your throat and sitting forward.

“Would you like to get to work, then?” you asked. “I imagine you don’t have the patience for anything else.”

“You’d be right.” His voice was still unnerving to you, still evoked something inside of you that you weren’t able to identify. You wished it would go away. “I have little time.”

Biting back your sarcasm, you nodded. “Sure.” As if you had time. All you wanted to do was to get back to your room and check on Fent. He was probably lonely. “The first thing I want to do is to have you pay attention to your thoughts. We have a thousand of them every minute, so a lot of the time, we don’t even know what’s going on in our head.” You paused, waiting for a response. He said nothing. “So, in order for us to know where to take this, we need to know where we’re starting.” When he still didn’t respond, you blinked, cocking your head. “Uh. Okay?”

Kylo Ren shifted, the wake of his disgust cast around the empty room. “This is all you have to offer?”

You blinked. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect you to snap your fingers and Force him to improve? What a shame he’d never hear that great joke. “Uh. Yes.”

Silence. He was thinking. “I’ll be meeting with the Supreme Leader, then. This is a greater waste of my time than I previously thought.”

Your stomach flipped. Your first instinct was to leap up and urge him to wait--you could do better, really. But this was quickly followed by the idea that if he cleared you of any responsibility, you and Fent could be off the damn Finalizer tomorrow. So, you threw your hands up, rolling your eyes.

“Be my guest.” You gestured toward the door, and he started toward it. “I have no interest in wasting my time on you, anyway.”

Kylo Ren stopped, his shoulders drawing back. Inside of your chest, your heart cowered, and you swallowed, crossing your arms. You weren’t going to take it back. If he didn’t want your expertise, then fine, you weren’t willing to give it to him, anyway. After all, you hoped he’d reject the idea of working with you so vehemently that you’d be granted freedom. But maybe you hadn’t needed to be that aggressive. He was still your Commander. Even if he was an asshole. Eh, oh well.

“Wasting your time on me?” That voice, like a deep-space tremor, quaked through the floor up your toes. “You believe your time is valuable enough to be wasted at all.”

Frowning, you replied, “Sure I do. I’m a professional. My time is worth just as much as yours is.”

He whirled, his cowl a tattered black wing spinning behind him. “A professional who’s offered me nothing in terms of professional services. The worth of your time is meaningless to me.”

“I’ve offered you nothing because you’ll accept nothing.”

“Then what worthwhile work have you done, officer?”

He was trying to bait you. It was working. “You want me to get mad at you,” you said, “but I won’t. Your manipulation tactics are old and tired.” You grinned. “You can’t stand if something doesn’t go the way you want it.”

“I told you to stay out of my head.”

“You want something worthwhile, don’t you?” You tapped your chin, scanning his frame. Stars, he was big. Really big. Dammit. What were you thinking about, again? Oh, right. “You’re a control freak, Commander. Everything has to go the way that you expect it go--or you act out. See here, storming out of my office.”

“Enough.”

“Or insulting me when I tell you that you’re wasting my time. The thought that someone in this situation other than you might have value would be a factor out of your control.”

“Enough.”

“Even now, you can’t bear to just leave my office, because it would be akin to letting me win the argument.”

Kylo Ren stomped forward, his fists tight. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Escalation,” you sighed. “Classic tactic of--”

Ren threw out his hand, and the rest of your words choked in your throat. A foreign pressure stalled your breath, forcing blood into your cheeks and lips. You squeaked, a puff of air escaping into your office as the pounding of your pulse beat like a bass in your temple. With no other option, you grappled at your neck, glaring at Ren through the fuzzing perimeter of your vision.

“Remember what I said.” The words were like a mechanical purr. You should have been terrified. You weren’t. “This isn’t a game you want to play with me.” He advanced, his voice somehow louder than the shrill ringing and throbbing in your head. Someone was taking an invisible machete to your skull. “You’ve been desperate to leave. To escape. You’re running… alone.”

Your face scrunched. He was in your head. What was he talking about? Alone? No, that wasn’t right. You were running with Fent. You were with Fent…

“Alone,” he repeated. “Free. You need relief. Release.” The pressure tightened. “And you want me to give it to you.”

Fear and excitement sunk into your skin, something buried in the deepest recesses of your brain sending an electric pulse through your thighs. Empty gasps leaked from your lungs, and you fumbled on your desk, looking for something to hurl in his direction. Your fingers closed around something hard, smooth--and as you gripped it, he released you, the air cracking, and you collapsed into a heaving heap.

You snapped up, still scrambling, drool spilling down your chin. “I don’t want anything like that from you,” you spat. “That’s entirely unprofessional.”

“Hm.” It sounded more like a chuckle than a reply.

“What?” you groaned, wiping your face clean. “What is it?”

“That’s not what I was implying at all.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared through the door.

You spent the rest of the time you’d blocked off for your session recovering from whatever-that-had-been. Certainly, it wasn’t arousal that had awakened inside of you. Because you absolutely, positively had no intentions of breaking an ethical code with a client. Even if that client had spent his time breaking every known code of ethics with you. Well, then again, you couldn’t be sure of that. There was some possibility that a planet on the Outer Rim considered choking an acceptable activity during therapy. But then--did they even have therapy?

“Ugh!” Who cared. You shut down your office and made your way back to your quarters.

Fent would be sleeping by now, but he’d be hungry, soon. You hoped to prepare his food, feed him his meds, and wait to hear the inevitable news that you two were being discharged. Your hand hovered over the ghost of the Force-print. That’d been the one positive outcome of today. You’d been able to excuse yourself from this terrible mistake of an assignment. For once, your fuck-ups were creating consequences in your favor.

When you arrived at your quarters, to your surprise, Fent was awake, sitting up in bed, his vacant eyes trained on you. Your insides sunk into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped forward, cracking a smile.

“Hey, sweetheart…” you said. “How are--”

“Why did someone come by looking for you?” His voice was hollower than his gaze.

You blinked. “Huh? Uh, I don’t know.” You wondered if it had to do with Kylo Ren. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” he replied, and raised an eyebrow. “How did you know it was a man?”

“Oh.” Dammit. “I’m sorry. It was a thoughtless assumption.” Swallowing, you moved toward the kitchen. That stare clung to your back like slime. “What did you want to--”

“You’ve been acting really weird, lately,” he said. “Something’s going on.”

You stopped, observing your toes, wiggling them inside your shoes, and drew a slow, quiet breath into your nose. “Are we doing this again, Fent?”

“Doing what?”

“Accusing me of--”

“I’m not accusing you,” he said. “I haven’t said anything.”

Facing him, you sighed. “Come on. You know what you’re doing.”

“What are you talking about?” He was standing, now. “I just asked a question.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said. “You were insinuating--”

“It’s just really weird that every time you’ve come back from work this past week, you seem all paranoid.” There was no flexibility in his tone. “Like you’re doing something wrong.”

Sighing again, you held up your palms. “I’m not doing anything.”

“I heard you moaning in your sleep,” he said. “You said a name. It wasn’t mine.”

Hot shame shot through your spine. You wanted to bury yourself in your own bones. Not only did you have no idea what he was talking about, you had no way to defend yourself. How were you supposed to know you were acting weird? And now there was moaning happening? How did you even know he was telling the truth? All of your thoughts congealed into a massive wad of spit-anxiety. Spitxiety. You couldn’t swallow it. You’d just been stressed. Kylo Ren had barely left your mind.

A live spark still bit at the back of your brain. Maybe that was the problem.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can’t really defend my actions, because I haven’t known I’ve been doing them. But I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m doing everything I’m doing because I love you. Because I want us to get out of here.”

“Okay. Sure. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes.

Was he serious? “Don’t roll your eyes at me!”

“Who the fuck are you yelling at?” Fent puffed out his chest, his face twisted with rage. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

You needed to bow out. This wasn’t worth it. “Sorry, Fent,” you replied. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to. I’m just really stressed. Sorry.”

Fent watched you, holding you hostage in his stare, and you waited--waited for his wrath to break, waited for him to return to the man you’d known. Then again, you weren’t sure how long you’d be needing to wait for the latter.

A buzz at your door, and you jumped. Fent narrowed his eyes, challenging you to answer. As if you’d expose yourself by doing so. Shrugging, you unlocked the hatch, and it slid open, revealing an officer. High-ranking. You hoped it was the same man from before--at least then, you’d be able to prove you hadn’t been doing anything wrong.

The officer glanced between you and Fent. “You must be the Commander’s doctor.”

You sighed. “I’m not a doctor--”

“The Supreme Leader wishes to meet with you tomorrow.” He might as well have been replaced with a droid--the delivery was incongruous with the meaning of his words. Meet with the Supreme Leader? Why? To say that you’d been released, perhaps--that you were free? “Location will be sent to your datapad.” And with that, he spun on his heel and was gone.

Blinking, you faced Fent, your face blank as the door slid shut behind you. He was silent--which, for some reason, pissed you off. You at least expected an apology.

“Well?” you said. “Does that answer your question?”

Fent’s eyes fell to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m a piece of shit.”

Your heart seized. “No!” You rushed over to him, wrapping him up in your arms. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling good. I get that. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll do better,” he said. “Once we get off this ship.”

A soft breath escaped your nose. You nuzzled into his neck, closing your eyes. Behind your lids, the image of Kylo Ren flashed like an alarm. Your fingers curled into Fent’s shirt. “We will,” you whispered, hoping you’d believe it by tomorrow. “We will.”