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moonscriptsx · 1 year ago

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Daylight || 02 (M)

PART 1

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

SYNOPSIS: Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.

PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]

GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]

WORDS: 12.7k.

WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.

A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰

PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles

The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.

Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.

“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.

A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.

“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.

“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”

“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”

Sleeping in…?

Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.

10:45 am.

“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.

“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”

But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.

“Sir I’m —“

“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”

Your eyebrows furrow at that.

“No,” you reply, confused.

“So why the formalities then?”

“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”

“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”

Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.

“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.

“It wasn’t enough for me.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.

There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.

“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”

A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”

A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.

“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“

“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”

“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”

You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”

“Excuse me — hey!”

There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.

“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”

“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.

“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”

It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.

“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”

“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”

You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.

“My asshole boss.”

Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.

“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”

It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.

“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.

“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”

Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.

Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.

“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”

Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.

“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”

The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.

Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.

Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.

05:54 PM.

Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.

Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.

Ms. (Y/N),

Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.

P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.

Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries

Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.

Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).

“KIM MINGYU!”

You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.

“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”

“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”

“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”

“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”

“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.

“It’s not that big of a deal -”

“What’s going on?”

You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.

“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”

Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.

“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”

“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”

Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”

Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.

“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”

You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.

Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.

“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.

Wonwoo’s jaw sets.

“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.

“Jeon (Y/N).”

A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.

There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.

“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”

A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.

“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.

“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”

“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”

Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”

His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.

“Now.”

Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.

“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”

Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.

“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”

“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he corrects.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.

“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.

Wonwoo’s frown deepens.

“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”

Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.

“I – What..?”

Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.

You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.

“Answer me, (Y/N).”

Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.

“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.

“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”

A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.

“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”

“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”

“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”

Anger flashes in his eyes.

“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.

“Wonu.”

Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.

“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.

“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”

There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.

A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.

You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.

“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.

“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.

His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.

“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”

You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.

“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.

“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”

Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.

“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.

The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.

“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.

“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”

Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.

“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.

Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.

“Well, yes, but —“

“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”

“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”

“WHAT?!”

The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.

“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”

“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”

“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”

Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.

“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”

You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.

“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“

“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”

“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”

“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”

“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”

“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”

“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right.

“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”

Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”

“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.

“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”

Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.

“Alright, now who’s hungry?”

You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.

Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.

You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.

You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.

“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.

“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”

“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”

There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.

“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.

But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.

With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.

You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.

“How – how did you get my address?”

Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.

“You’re avoiding me.”

His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.

“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.

“You and I both know that that is a lie.”

Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.

“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.

“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”

There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.

“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”

Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”

The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.

“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”

Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.

“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”

A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.

“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”

“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”

Your gaze softens at his words.

You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.

With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.

“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”

A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.

Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.

Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.

Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.

“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”

You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.

A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.

A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.

“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”

There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.

Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.

You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.

“Down the hall to the right.”

It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”

Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.

“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.

“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”

You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.

“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”

Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.

“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”

A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.

“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”

Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.

“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”

You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.

A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.

“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”

Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”

Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”

The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.

Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.

He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.

Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”

Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”

A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.

“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.

Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”

A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.

Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.

“(Y/N)...”

Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.

Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.

“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”

The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.

“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”

A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.

“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”

A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.

“I’m the only one who deserves it.”

Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.

“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”

He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”

He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.

“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”

His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.

“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”

You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.

“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”

The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.

“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.

“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.

“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”

Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.

“Damn right, you’re mine.”

Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.

Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.

“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”

The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.

“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.

You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.

His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.

Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.

“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”

Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.

“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”

Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”

“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Even if I cost you your job?”

You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.

“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”

Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.

“That can be arranged.”

[15 new messages]

From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)

From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;

From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!

To: Gyu She’s busy

From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again

Epilogue

“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”

Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.

“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”

Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.

“I knew I could count on you.”

The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.

“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”

Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.

“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”

“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”

Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”

His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.

“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”

Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.

“Nothing I’m not already used to.”

It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.

In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.

Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.

You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.

“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”

Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.

“Noted.”

Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.

“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”

You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.

You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.

“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.

He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.

Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.

“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”

Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.

An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.

“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”

You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.

“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.

“I love you,” he corrects.

Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.

“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.

“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.

“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.

“But I only want to be around you.”

Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”

Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.

“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”

You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.

“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.

With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader

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jackiesnats · 7 months ago

Text

Different Mindset

pairing: scarlett johansson x reader

warnings: dom/sub, anal, mommy kink, verbal humiliation, spit kink, mentions florence x reader

summary: Trying to get into the mindset for Natasha before filming, you help Scarlett out.

this is a repost

You watched as Scarlett paced around your shared hotel room. The two of you traveling to London to film for her up and coming movie ‘Black Widow’, but she was having trouble getting into the role.

“Remember what I told you when you got the role for Lucy?” You asked, which got her to stop pacing.

“You would let me fuck you as hard as I could to get in the mindset of Lucy.” she answered, her face turning into a smirk. Looking at you as if you were her prey.

“Yes, and the offer stand for this movie too,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Scarlett sat down next to you, placing her hand on your thigh. “Are you sure? It’s okay if you don’t want to though,” she assured you, but you shook your head.

“I want to do this, I want to help.”

“What are your safewords?”

“Red to completely stop, yellow to slow down, and green tells you I’m okay. If I’m gagged, I pump my fist in the air.”

“Good girl.” she praised, kissing you on the cheek.

“Alright, I’m gonna go for my workout with my trainer. I’ll text you when I’m ten minutes away, and when I get home, I want you naked and on your knees. Understood?” she instructed, her voice stern as her hand travelled between your legs. Rubbing hard circles against your clothed cunt, she kissed your cheek. Only moving her hand away when you let out a whine.

“Yes, Mommy.”

Kissing you on the lips, Scarlett left for her workout. You knew she wanted you ready for when she walked into the hotel room, but knowing her, she’d take a shower first. But, as you got to thinking, you were contemplating on being a brat to her. Although, she needed this from you; usually you’d be all up for your attitude, but not this time.

It was an hour and a half later when you got the text:

Scar: Be there in nine, get ready for me princess.

You got to work, taking off your clothes and folding them neatly onto the chair next to the bed. You were excited, but nervous as to what she was going to do. You loved the thrill of not knowing what was to come. Getting down on your knees, facing the door to the bedroom, you waited for her to come back. After five minutes of waiting, you heard the front door open. Scarlett walked straight to where you were kneeling, not even acknowledging you. Wondering if you should ask her how the workout was, she began to undress. You watched as she threw her dirty clothes in the hamper, but when she turned to you, she spoke.

“Did I say you could look at me, slut?” she asked, looking for a clean towel in the closet.

“No-” you began but she cut you off.

“I also didn’t say you could talk. Eyes on the floor, Printsessa.” when the Russian nickname came out, you bit your lip to stop the moan that was forming. “I’m gonna go take a shower, want you to stay there until I tell you to move. Understood?”

“Yes, Mommy.” you answered, her face softening as she combed her fingers through your hair.

“Good girl.”

Grabbing a drawstring bag from one of her duffle bags, Scarlett headed to the bathroom. To keep yourself from rubbing your thighs together, you spread your thighs further as best as you could. The floor wasn’t as comfortable as you first thought, wishing you had put a pillow down for you knees. You just hoped that Scarlett would get out of the shower. Quickly.

What felt like hours, Scarlett was finally out of the shower. Hearing it turn off got you excited, knowing it would only be moments before she’d come out and fuck you, but she never came out. Contemplating on calling out to ask if she was okay, you stopped when the bathroom door swung open. Your eyes widening as you saw what she was wearing: combat boots, with a thick strapon that she must have bought before the two of you left for her to film.

“Eyes on the ground, slut.” she said, her attitude changed and you knew she was getting into the role. “You remember your safe words, yes?”

“Yes, Mommy.” you whine, biting your lip as she lifted up your chin.

“Good girl. You’re such a little slut for me, huh?”

You nodded, knowing she wanted you to only answer her safeword question. You knew better, and as she held your head still, you could see that she was contemplating on what to do. When you opened your mouth to talk, she slid two of her fingers into your mouth.“Suck.” was all she said, and you did as you were told. Running your tongue between her fingers, you sucked on them harder.

Slapping you lightly, Scarlett laughed, “You can suck harder than that. You want my cock don’t you?”

You hummed, making eye contact as you sucked harder. Earning a moan from Scarlett, you continued your movements until she told you to open your mouth. Doing as you were told, she removed her fingers and leaned down to spit into your mouth. “Swallow.” was all she said, and you did as you were told.

“Good fucking slut. I know you want my cock, don’t you? You want it down your throat, huh?” Scarlett asked, pulling your hair so your head was tilted back.

“Yes, mommy, wanna choke on it!” you whined, and she smiled, running the pad of thumb across your bottom lip. Her other hand gripping the base of her strapon.

Pulling you closer towards her strapon, you kissed the tip before wrapping your lips around it. Running both of her hands in your hair, she pushed your mouth down further onto it. Slowly moving her hips, making sure you were okay before picking the pace.

You relaxed your throat as each thrust went deeper down your throat, eyes watering as she never let up. Thankful that you were able to deep throat (the first time she fucked your throat didn’t end so well), finally as she pulled away you gasped for air. “Look at you, making a mess on my cock, and I haven’t even fucked that pussy yet.” she laughed, helping you to your feet.

“Bend over the bed, slut.” she said, watching you with hunger in her eyes. Doing as you were told, you heard her walking away. Her boots not allowing her to be sneaky. “I’m going to plug up your ass. My ass, because I’m going to fuck it. Color?” she asked softly, breaking character.

“Green, Scar.”

Walking back towards, you looked back at her as she got down onto her knees. You moaned as you felt both of her hands on your ass. “Remember the first time I ate this little ass of yours? You thought you weren’t going to like it, but now you beg for it every single time I fuck you.” Scarlett commented, running her tongue against your cheek. You wanted it, but of course, Scarlett wasn’t going to until you begged for it.

“Please Mommy, please.” You cried out, and she hummed. As you felt her tongue push against your tight hole, you jerked in response. “Keep moving and I’ll punish you.”

“Sc-” you began, but was cut off when her tongue pushed into you deeper. Her left hand moving to rub at your clit.

Trying your best to stay still as she fucked you with her tongue, sliding a finger into your soaked pussy. Jumping at the feeling, Scarlett pulled back. Smacking you hard on your ass. “Little whore, what did I tell you?”

“N-not to move, or you’d punish me.” you whisper, waiting for Scarlett to spank you again.

“That’s correct, ten spanks and then I’ll put this plug in. Understand? Color?”

“Yes, Mommy.” you took a deep breath. “Green.”

“Good girl. Now count, and do not mess up.” she warned, rubbing your ass.

Slapping your ass hard, you let out a sob. “One.” You cried, as she began to rub the spot on your ass. The next one came quick, on your other cheek. This one stinging a little more than the first. “Two.” Scarlett had a plan, spacing out each one to keep you waiting. By the tenth one, you were thankful that you didn’t mess up.

“All done, baby girl. You did so well for me, taking your punishment. Are you ready to get your holes filled up?” she asked, rubbing your ass lightly, waiting for your reply.

“Yes, Mommy.” you moan as she rubs her thumb against your tight hole.

You heard her open the bottle of lube she always packs with her. The squirting sound it made helping you prepare for the coldness you were about to feel. Feeling Scarlett’s middle finger push lightly into your entrance. “So nice and tight for me. Tell me, whose ass is this?”

“Y-yours, mommy. All fucking yours!” You cry out as her finger pushed further into your asshole.

“That’s right. Honestly, I think I love fucking your ass more than your slutty pussy. Should have Florence come fuck it while I watch, and honestly? I don’t even think you deserve my cock there.” Scarlett cooed, adding to your humiliation.

“Please, Mommy, want all my holes fucked.” you beg as she added a second finger.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.”

Adding a third finger, you hissed as she added more lube. You were close, and as you gasped, Scarlett pulled her fingers out. She wasn’t going to let you come that quick, and you knew that. As soon as her fingers left, the plug covered in lube took their place. When she finally got it in, you felt as if you were finally able to breathe.

“You look so nice and pretty. Are you ready for my cock, Princess?” she asked, and you hummed. Slapping your ass one more time before getting up, Scarlett laid down onto the bed. “Well come here, slut. I want you to ride it.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Crawling onto the bed without breaking eye contact, you were quick to straddle her hips. You gasped, the feeling of the strap stretching you taking over as you sunk down onto it. Scarlett held your hips, slowly guiding you down further. Once you were all the way down on it, she gave you time to adjust.

“Look at you, such a pretty little whore for me. That’s it, ride my cock.” she encouraged you as you began moving.

“All my co-stars would love to see you riding my cock like the good slut you are,” Scarlett said, her left hand wrapping around your neck. “All filled up, maybe they’d love to join. Take turns fucking you.”

You let out a choked whine as she thrusted up, meeting each of your movements. Slapping your face with her free hand as she squeezed your throat, Scarlett smirked up at you when you wrapped your lips around her thumb. “Dirty little slut. Want you to come on my cock.” she moaned, letting go of your throat.

Laying down on Scarlett, she wrapped her arms around your waist. Her thrusts becoming frantic as you sucked the side of her neck. Whispering, “I’m so close, Scar,” which only motivated her to fuck you harder and faster.

“Then do it, fucking come.”

You did as soon as the words left her mouth. Scarlett never letting go of your waist, she continued fucking you through your orgasm. Pulling you by your hair so she was able to kiss you, she smiled against your lips.

“Lay down on your stomach, gonna fuck your ass now.” she said as she helped you off her strap.

Grabbing the bottle of lube, Scarlett squirted some onto her hand. Watching you get on your stomach as she rubbed the lube onto her strapon, she chuckled. “Your ass looks so fucking pretty. I almost don’t want to fuck you, and just leave you there for me for later while I go get drinks.”

“No, Mommy. Please come fuck what’s yours!” you begged.

“That’s right your ass is mine, you’re all mine.” she said as she climbed back onto the bed. “Ass up, Princess.” You did as you were told without thinking, preparing yourself as she slowly pulled out the plug.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Good girl. Ready for my cock? Gonna fuck you so hard,” she moaned, pressing the lube tip to your entrance.

As she pushed in, you gripped the sheets. Making sure to keep your breathing steady, you relaxed yourself as she pushed into you some more. As soon as she was all the way in, she stayed still, allowing you to get adjusted to the size.

“So full, M-” you began, but cut yourself off with a moan. “P-please, move. Please fuck me!” You cried out, and Scarlett happily gave you what you want.

Her pace slow at first, making sure you were okay and comfortable. But as she quickened her movements, she pulled you up by your hair. Quick to wrap her left hand around your neck. Slamming her hips hard against you, Scarlett reached around with her free hand to play with your clit, keeping up with the pace she had. You were growing closer to your second orgasm when she pulled out, causing a whine to slip out.

“You want to whine? I’ll give you something to whine about, slut.” she said, slapping your ass.

Laying down on her side, you got the hint and did the same. With your back pressed to her chest, she moved down a bit so she could line the tip of her strapon at your entrance once again. Pushing in again, Scarlett picked up where she left off. Hooking her arm around your leg to make sure you weren’t able to close your legs.

Reaching down with your free hand to rub your clit, Scarlett stopped you. “You little whore, I never said you could touch yourself. Did I?” she panted, never letting up on her pace.

“No, M-mommy. Please, please let me touch, so fucking close!” You cry, and Scarlett hums.

“Hm, touch yourself for me and come while I fuck your ass.”

Scarlett didn’t have to tell you twice. You rubbed hard circles against your clit to match her thrusts. You turned your head so she could kiss you, only to break as your legs start to shake.

“I’m co-” you were cut off by your orgasm. Scarlett letting go of your leg to stick her fingers in your mouth - she had forgotten that the two of you were in a hotel. You came with a muffled scream, but as she was helping you through it, she stopped fucking you. Pulling out and moving between your legs, her mouth was instantly on your clit. Sliding a finger into your soaked pussy, she sucked hard. She continued to help you through your orgasm, but continued after, you whined. Too sensitive you called out “Red”, and she stopped completely.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Love how pretty you look right now,” Scarlett praised, going to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. Opening it up and guiding it to your lips, you drank half off it. “Love how good you are for me, to me. I love you, (Your Name).”

“I love you too, Scar,” you whispered, watching her take the strapon off. Setting it in the bathroom before coming to lay down with you.

Wrapping her arms around, he kissed you on the cheek. “Thank you for this,” she said, you turned to face her.

“It was no problem, plus, I got fucked so I’m not upset.” you smiled, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Mm, yeah you did.”

“Also, Scar?” you asked in a whisper, and she hummed. “You realize that Florence’s room is next this part of ours, right?”

Your cheeks heated up at the thought of her hearing what Scarlett said. Scarlett knew about the crush you had on her, and she loved teasing you about it in the bedroom. But the thought of Florence hearing it? Embarrassed you even more.

“Oh.” Scarlett smirked in faux innocence.

“If she heard us, you’re explaining it to her. Not me.” You rolled her eyes.

“Gladly.”

#scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson x reader #my writing #mine

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randomcreator-09 · 2 days ago

Text

Small Heath's Songbird: Christmas Eve Special (Thomas ShelbyxOCY/N)

(GIF ain't mine > I forgor ack pls dm me if it's yours)

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS SCENE MADE ME WANNA EXPLODE XD

Part One - Part Two

>>>MINORS DNI<<<

✨Pure fluff, Lil Angst, No Grace, Smut >:D [pnv (wrap it before you tap it), slight choking, bottom!dom Tommy, switch!dom reader, overstimulation(m&f)] Happy Ending ^^ (cuz I've had enough bad endings irl TvT)✨

🐧Hoe Hoe Hoe all of us HAHAHAHAHAHHA XD. I hope ya'll getting laid this Christmas Eve cuz, I aint X"D. Anyways you do not need to read part one... this can be just a one-shot itself, but fair warning you might not understand who our OCY/N is so... yeah... go read part one XD Tried to make it as short as possible since it's just a special but seemingly failed :"D but ey... Merry Christmas ^^!!!🐧

Own character description but it's Y/N POV

3.2k words

REBLOG TO SPREAD ADDICTION and kudos are appreciated too thank you ^^

Enjoy reading ^^

Part One - Part Two

-----

It has been more than a week since your last encounter with the owner of Arrow House, Thomas. Your first kiss with him last December 15th was something that kept you giddy to work as soon as the morning sun rose and before Miss Florence could knock at your door to wake you up, your room was already empty.

You went with your usual routine of sweeping off dust on paintings and sculptures, careful not to break or tear anything. This wasn't the first house you became a personal maid for someone, you've basically worked as a royal made once before getting kicked out by the head maid for "Eloping" with her man (which you didn't. The man was just accusing you because you said no to all his advances, which ended up with you on the whore house with 'Missus'). Humming as you cleaned and twirled, Miss Florence saw you and turned away with a smile.

-----

However, as fast as you were giddy that day, it was also punched right out you when you were called to attend to one of Thomas's whores.

"Ah! Y/N?" She slutterly (is that even a word??? XD) mentioned your name as she walked around you with the same dark coat Thomas had placed upon your shoulders to keep you warm yesterday.

"Yes." you muttered between gritted teeth, trying not to yank the coat away from her filthy body.

"Mmm... Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name in our session." She said with great despise. That information had your body in tingles. 'My name? in sex? in a normal convo? with another woman?' this came up to mind as the whore walked away after wafting her hair and up the stairs to Thomas's room, possibly to regain his favours to her.

Questions bursts out your mind to the thought that was left behind. "...Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name..." but why?

-----

After that day, you have never seen Thomas again in Arrow House. Miss Florence said he was on a business trip somewhere and would not be back till Christmas. That gave you time to think and to reflect on the kiss. AND to that whores last comment on their 'sessions'. Weird enough you thought that maybe she just heard it wrong, if not wrong then... why?

That had your mind busy for the rest of the week. Although with all the chores in hand, it made you forget Thomas easily. Suddenly remembering that the audition to the Garrison bar was going to be held on Christmas Eve. You had asked Miss Florence to be excused for that day, which she allowed.

-----

"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out to you through the swirling snow. You turned and saw ‘Missus,’ bundled in her thick, patched-up coat, her breath visible in the cold air as she waved enthusiastically.

“Missus,” you greeted her with a smile, tugging your own coat tighter around you as the wind picked up. Despite the chill in the air, her warmth was contagious.

“Still don’t know why you’re wastin’ that voice of yours on dusty houses. Tonight’s your chance, love. Show ‘em what you’re made of!” she declared, stepping closer. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or the drink she’d likely had before venturing out, you couldn’t tell.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” you teased lightly, though you were secretly glad to have her there.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”

The two of you entered the Garrison, the warmth and chaos of the pub hitting you like a wave. The air was thick with smoke and laughter, and the smell of ale lingered heavily. At the center of it all was a rather tone-deaf singer, standing on the makeshift stage, belting out a rowdy tune. Her pitch was so off that even the drunkest men in the room winced occasionally.

The pub owner, Harry, stood near the bar, shaking his head. “Alright, that’s enough! Off you go!” he barked, waving her down.

The woman staggered off, her cheeks burning as the crowd erupted in laughter and went back to their conversations. Harry rubbed his temple, muttering to himself as he reached for another pint.

Missus nudged you forward with her elbow. “Go on, love.”

You hesitated, your nerves getting the better of you, but Missus had no patience for second-guessing. She marched you straight to Harry. “Oy, Harry!”

The man turned, clearly unimpressed. “What now?”

“She’s here for the audition,” Missus announced proudly, gesturing to you like you were already a star.

Harry raised a skeptical brow, his eyes raking over you lazily. “You sing, do ya?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice firmer than you felt inside.

“Sure, why not,” he said with a shrug. “You lot are all bloody awful anyway. The men are drunk enough, so go ahead—ruin my ears like the rest of ‘em.” He waved a dismissive hand toward the stage.

Before you could argue or even steady your nerves, Missus grabbed your arm and practically dragged you toward the stage. “That’s my girl!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the clamor of the pub. She plopped herself down at a table near the front, pint in hand, cheering you on with the enthusiasm of ten people.

You stood on the small stage, feeling the weight of every eye in the room—except for the ones you wanted most. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Thomas and his brothers seated in the far-right corner, engrossed in their own conversation. Thomas was leaning back in his chair, cigarette in hand, his expression unreadable. His brothers were equally disinterested, laughing at some joke you couldn’t hear over the din.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to the piano and sat, your hands trembling slightly as you placed it on the notes. The room began to quiet down, curious about the new face on stage.

>>>>MOOSIC<<<<

As the first notes of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” left the piano chords, the pub seemed to hold its breath. As you started to sing though that's when everyone was in awe. The soft, ethereal melody floated through the room, starkly different from the raucous atmosphere moments ago.

"It came upon the midnight clear,

that glorious song of old,

from angels bending near the earth

to touch their harps of gold:

"Peace on the earth, good will to men,

from heaven's all-gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

to hear the angels sing."

You glanced around as you sang. Some of the patrons were swaying gently, their mugs forgotten for a moment. Harry stood behind the bar, his usual gruffness replaced with a look of mild surprise. Missus was, of course, beaming at you, her pint raised high in salute.

And then your gaze landed on Thomas. He was no longer leaning back in his chair, his cigarette halfway to his lips, forgotten. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the pub had melted away.

His brothers seemed to notice his sudden silence, exchanging glances before following his gaze to the stage. But Thomas didn’t move. He simply watched, his expression a mix of curiosity and something deeper—something that sent a thrill through you as you hit the chorus:

"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,

from Heaven’s all-gracious King..."

Your voice grew stronger, more confident, as the room continued to listen in hushed awe.

"Still through the cloven skies they come

with peaceful wings unfurled,

and still their heavenly music floats

o'er all the weary world;"

Your voice rang clear and steady now, weaving through the smoky air like a hymn in a sacred hall. The clamor of the pub had ceased entirely, save for the occasional clink of a glass or the creak of a chair as someone shifted to get a better view.

"Above its sad and lowly plains,

they bend on hovering wing,

and ever o'er its Babel sounds

the blessed angels sing."

Your eyes swept across the room as the words spilled effortlessly from your lips, each note carrying a haunting beauty. The drunkards, their mugs poised mid-air, watched you with wide eyes. Missus raised her pint higher, tears glinting in her eyes as she mouthed along with the words, clearly as proud as any mother watching her child’s first recital.

But it was Thomas’s gaze that kept pulling you back. He was leaning forward now, his elbows on the table, his piercing blue eyes locked on you with an intensity that made your heart falter mid-note. His brothers were as amused as Thomas was, their quiet singing along going unnoticed by him as he remained transfixed.

The pub faded into a blur around you, and for a moment, it was just you and him. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but something softer, something rare. It made you feel both seen and exposed, like he was peeling back every layer of your soul with just a look.

You closed your eyes, letting the final verses of the carol guide you.

"For lo! the days are hastening on,

by prophet bards foretold,

when with the ever-circling years

comes round the age of gold;

when peace shall over all the earth

its ancient splendors fling,

and the whole world give back the song

which now the angels sing."

The last note hung in the air, delicate and trembling, before dissolving into the stillness.

The room erupted in applause, shattering the quiet spell you’d cast. Missus was on her feet, cheering loud enough to make up for anyone who wasn’t clapping. Harry nodded approvingly from the bar, a rare grin on his face.

And then there was Thomas. He didn’t clap, didn’t cheer, but his eyes said enough. There was something unspoken there, something electric that left you breathless as you stepped off the stage.

Missus grabbed you the moment your feet touched the floor, pulling you into a bear hug. “That’s my girl!” she hollered, spinning you around.

-----

As the noise swelled back into the room and the drunken revelry resumed, you glanced toward the far-right corner one last time. Thomas was no longer were he was, you looked around to see his brothers were eyeing you. John was grinning from ear to ear as he tipped his hat to you, you gestured with a soft smile. Arthur, visibly high from whatever he took, winked at you, making your soft smile widen a bit at the gesture as you shook your head continuing your drink with missus.

"Got a voice young lady, you ain't no whore like missus here ain't you?" Harry asked as he passed you your glass of water (you don't drink, taking care of your voice).

"No sir," you said in a hushed tone as missus and Harry glared knives at each other, clearly having a mental fight.

"Alright! you got the gig, every Saturday at noon. Don't be late." he huffed as he tended to other customers on the pub.

You beamed as you silently squealed with Missus. You now had enough jobs to be able to earn and go for an adventure; now it's just time to earn until-

Your reverie was cut short when a sudden familiar voice lingered behind you.

“Looking for me, darling?” His voice carried that familiar gruffness, the edges softened by something you couldn’t quite place.

You turned, startled but delighted. “Thomas,” you breathed, standing instinctively. His sharp blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the entire pub seemed to dissolve around you.

“You’ve got a voice, Y/N,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost reverent. “Had the whole pub hanging on your every note. Even Arthur stopped his nonsense to listen.”

A faint blush crept up your neck at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, your gaze falling briefly to the floor.

“I mean it,” he pressed. “Didn’t know you had that in you. If I’d known, I’d have dragged you to sing long ago.”

You smiled shyly but then felt the weight of a lingering question pull you back. Gathering your courage, you glanced up at him. “Thomas... about something the other day…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

You inhaled deeply, your words tumbling out before your nerves could catch you. “That woman. Back at the Arrow House. She said you... mentioned my name. During her... visit.”

For the first time, you saw Thomas falter. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat, glancing away. “Ah, bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well?” you prompted, your heart pounding.

He sighed, cursing himself softly before meeting your gaze again. “I did,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “She said somethin’ about loyalty or... some nonsense, and your name just... slipped out.”

“Slipped out?” you repeated, your brows arching.

“Can’t help what’s on my mind, love,” he said with a sheepish grin. “After our kiss in the kitchen that night I couldn't stop thinking about you, I couldn't possibly have you on your knees all of a sudden," he paused as he huffed another batch of his cigar. "You-your were a lady when I first saw you. Not a personal maid, so I fell for your soul and well voice now too and it’s going to be bloody distracting now that I have these in mind.”

He paused yet again, seemingly trying to recall all his thoughts, which were now visibly in jumbles. "I like to get to know you," he said as he stubbed his cigar dead on the ashtray. "It seemed like I've known you for years when we had just met that very day, and I won't be able to stop thinking about you now."

Your cheeks burned at his confession, and you averted your eyes, a small, flustered laugh escaping your lips. “Well, I... I suppose I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you confessed, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pub.

His grin widened, the rare softness in his expression making your heart stutter. “Then we’ve both been fools, haven’t we?” he murmured, stepping closer. “Let me make it right. Take you out. Like a real lady.”

Before you could answer, Missus yanked you back by the arm, her eyes narrowed. “Not so fast, lover boy,” she said, pointing a finger at Thomas. “I’m takin’ her home, since you two might start shagging when she goes back to Arrow House today.”

“Missus!" shocked by her boldness but not surprised as she was already dragging you toward the door.

“Tomorrow, then!” Thomas called after you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

-----(Present Day, December 25th)

The warmth of the fireplace cast a golden glow over the living room as your daughter sat cross-legged on the floor by the Christmas tree, her curious eyes fixed on you. “But Mommy! Missus says she did no such thing!” she exclaimed, giggling.

You shot a playful glare at Missus, who was sitting comfortably in the armchair by the fire, sipping her tea. “Oh, did she now?” you teased, shaking your head.

Missus laughed, her graying hair framing her face. “Don’t listen to her, love. I was just keeping your mother out of trouble.”

The room filled with laughter until a familiar voice interrupted. “Baby, Daddy needs Mommy for a while, yeah? Why don't you go and play with Missus for a while.” Thomas said, stepping into the room.

Your daughter lit up and nodded. “Okay, Daddy!” she chirped, running over to Missus with her toys in hand.

Thomas extended a hand to you, his expression as unreadable as ever but his eyes warm. As soon as you were in the hallway, he leaned closer. “What were you tellin’ her?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Just the story of how we met. You know, the softer version.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Softer version, eh? Did you leave out the bit where I killed Luca Changretta for your hand?”

A laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. “No, it’s a bit too brutal for a five-year-old, my dear Tommy.”

He smirked, his hands sliding over yours. “In time, then,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection. “But for now…”

Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you effortlessly toward the stairs.

“Thomas!” you squealed, laughing loudly as you clung to him.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered, his grin widening as he carried you up, your laughter echoing through the house.

-----(Thomas's POV)

Thomas scooped you into his arms, holding you close as though you were the most precious thing in his world. He started up the stairs, his steps steady yet unhurried.

“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Oh, I do. You’re my princess tonight—and every night.”

Your cheeks flushed as you playfully swatted his shoulder. “You’re so cheesy, Thomas.”

“Only for you,” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

As he entered the room, he nudged the door shut with his foot and gently placed you on the bed. The golden glow of the fairy lights illuminated your face, making you look ethereal. He slowly placed you down onto your shared bed and paused, taking you in as if committing the moment to memory.

“You’re staring,” you teased, your lips curling into a soft smile.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re breathtaking.”

Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of vulnerability. “You make me feel that way,” you murmured.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “That’s because it’s true,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.

He began to trail kisses along your cheeks and down your neck, his movements slow and deliberate. “Tell me if I ever do too much,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm and comforting.

“You could never do too much,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I trust you.”

His lips curved into a smile against your neck. “I’ll make sure you never regret that,” he said, his tone serious yet filled with love.

As your connection deepened, you let out a soft laugh. “You’re so gentle, Thomas. It’s like you’re afraid I’ll break.”

“I’m not afraid,” he replied, his voice a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “I just want you to know how much I adore you—every part of you.”

As he said those words, his lips were now down to yours. Tickling your lower abdomen with soft kisses and slowly licking your clit from top to the bottom, making you hiss in pleasure.

He couldn't get over the taste of you, finer than the whisky he drinks and the cigar he smokes. He can forget Ophium, when you are one addicting woman.

"Fuck... I love you Y/N" He mutters as he laps his wet tongue through your slit and holds your hips as you were twitching heavy. His thumb on your clit drawing circles slowly and at rhythm to his tongue.

When he hears you scream his name like a prayer his pants suddenly felt tight and he couldn't let it wait any longer, he had to make you cum on his mouth now or never.

"Cum for me baby. Please... Oh God Please let me taste you" as he enters his tongue in you and his nose nuzzled on your clit and fingers twisting your nipples, fast.

"Th-Thomas! I-I'm Ah!" and release you did. However that didn't stop him and he kept his ministering to you until you could feel that satisfying release on the depths of your stomach.

"Thomas! I... I might make a mess..." You plead him as you trashed on his grasp without avail for his biceps were locked on your hips and legs. "Then make a mess. I'd love to see you make a mess for me, love"

And you squirted on his mouth. As he slowly pulls himself away and smirks looking at your majestic image, "Fuck, love you look gorgeous".

He was about to come back down and devour you once more but you won't let that happen this Christmas day. So, when you took control, he couldn’t help but smile up at you as your fingers traced the sharp angles of his face. “You know, I don’t think I say this enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s that?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips as he gazed up at you, completely captivated.

“I love you,” you said simply, your words carrying the weight of your feelings.

His eyes softened, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “You don’t have to say it all the time. I feel it every moment I’m with you.”

When you finally lay side by side, your breaths still mingling, Thomas turned to you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re my everything, you know that?” he said softly.

You smiled, your eyes glistening. “You’re mine, too,” you replied.

He chuckled, his voice warm and low. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas,” you whispered back, as you kissed him softly on his lips.

Thomas groaned, a low sound of pleasure, as you shifted your position, straddling him. Inserting his cock to yours, His hands instinctively found your waist, holding you steady as you began to move. His breath hitched, and he looked up at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and adoration.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” he murmured, his voice strained yet teasing, as his hands tightened slightly on your hips, guiding your rhythm.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “I think you like it this way.”

A chuckle escaped him, though it quickly dissolved into another groan as you continued. His head fell back against the pillow, exposing his neck as he surrendered entirely to you. Your fingers slid to his jaw, tilting his face back toward you.

“Look at me,” you said softly, your voice firm but full of affection.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours as your hand moved to his throat. You applied the slightest pressure, watching as his breath hitched and his gaze darkened.

“Is this okay?” you asked, pausing briefly to ensure he was comfortable.

Thomas’s hands slid up your sides, his grip reassuring. “Perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

You continued, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the moment as much as he was. His hands roamed your body, occasionally tightening as he got closer to the edge.

“I’m not going to last,” he murmured, his voice strained.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips as you whispered, “Then don’t hold back, baby.”

Moments later, the tension in his body gave way, and he groaned your name, his voice heavy with release. You followed shortly after, your body trembling as you reached your peak.

Breathless, you collapsed onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. Neither of you spoke for a while, the only sound in the room being your steady breaths mingling together.

Thomas finally broke the silence, his voice soft and full of contentment. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You smiled against his chest, your fingers drawing lazy patterns on his skin. “Merry Christmas, Thomas.”

----

🐧Hopefully I ended that well :"D aha... mhen :"D I just wanted it to be cute and all since its christmas aha~ so merry christmas everyone ^^ have a happy holiday ^^🐧

Tags:

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts - @stardustandor - @tommyshelbysgoodgirl - @courtney5599 - @omgsuperstarg

- @exploringmycosmicsoul - @europixie - @josephine-02 - @n1ghtw1ngslvr - @angelicbabydolll -

@seraphine09 -

@dollsndesires @fabolily @nixsarson @bluerrie @lunxrstellx

@star01007 @floweradroble1123 @7seven-wonders

@scarlettlight06

@turkishgirlslife @jill7373883 @cillianinlove @cilly-murphy @sleepysnoofy

@tumbrburgerking712801 @yourstrulylve

@lvrsw0rld @lvrsworld @randomnamers @kimmifischersworld @sl-newsie

@shizpostluver @hagarsays @shannieshoo

@mysteriouslysweetmagazine @the-ruler-of-death @cillianmurphysdimples @hippiedippiekitty

@sl-newsie - @hippiedippiekitty - @tumbrburgerking712801 - @candlesenthusiast - @floweradroble1123

@dragonsneversharetheirtreasure - @wonderlanddreamer - @rogers060967 - @thomasfell -

@captainstank01 - @imdoingbetternow -

@dodicesimamas -

@shelbywhiterose - @savexsangster -

@stairwayto--hell

@feasibilities - @valeeeez -

@mythicalcowboyatheart

- @mistyorchid -

@luluartpop - @dr-helia2

@remembering-angels - @zanytalecherryblossom-blog -

- @thebunnybabyblog -

@shannieshoo - @athenakeene - @melissaspersonalblog - @jonathancarneswifey - @that-one-gothic-murder-of-crows

@pretty-little-sl4t - @random-weirdo - @asmutwriter - @sisterkait

@thebunnybabyblog - @tabbilee

@sleepysnoofy - @giulssssss - @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure - @wakasaswifee

Part One - Part Two

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daaydreamy · 2 years ago

Note

The Bobbie clip you should write about it with sub flo and switch y/n where they suck on eachothers boobs because why not and dom Harry sees them touching eachother but stroked himself by the sight

“oh, fuck.” florence gasped out, back arching up into y/n’s chest when y/n started toying with one of her nipples, licking over the other. she placed her hand on the back of y/n’s head, keeping her there, whilst moaning softly. she instictively spread her legs a little, and y/n took that as a chance to slide her thigh in between them, pressing it against florence’s needy cunt, making her whimper.

as they were having fun, they hadn’t realized harry had come home, too lost in each other that they barely even heard the front door close. they had vaguely heard their names being called, but ignored it, focused on making each other feel good.

so now harry had been standing in front of the door of the bedroom, the door opened halfway. he was leaning against the doorframe, watching quietly, and resisting the urge to touch himself from the sight of his girls. he watched for a little while, letting them have their fun.

#💌┊anonymous #concepts of harry #concepts of florence #sub!florence #dom!harry

10 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 1 month ago

Text

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 42

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks,

guess who's back! I don't know if I'm back to doing these consistently, but I have a hell of a list for y'all. Tags and summaries provided by the author, commentary provided by yours truly.

Mindfuck - Dave one shot by @whatsnewalycat

He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. So you did. And you do. Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays.

Hypnotism, hypnosis-kink, Imperfect Praxis of Hypnosis, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Praise Kink, Smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, Dom Dave, Mindfuck

One of the weirdest things I've ever read, but also one of the best. I was super into this. Mindfucking is WILD.... I'd read more of this universe in a heartbeat

Bittersweet Love - Dieter one shot by @ozarkthedog

Dieter is in recovery from drug addiction, the disease that cost him you. This is his first premiere after getting clean and his first one without you.

angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic.

This is such a sweet fic? That might be a weird way to describe it. I just love Dieter getting his shit together and all the good coming his way because of it.

Starlet - Dieter one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

PWP, threesome, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), lesbian fun, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, addiction talk, sober Dieter, Kit Kats, I wrote this for the bi girls.

This fic is a dream, seriously. I want a hot movie star husband to bring pretty movie star women into my bed please and thank you.

Pas de Deux - Din series by @burntheedges

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

This is one of the few modern Din AUs I've read, as I tend not to like them, but I can't recommend this enough. I was drawn in by the summary and hooked by the first chapter!

Never Let Me Go - Ezra one shot by @yopossum

Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra.

SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

SUBMISSIVE EZRA!!! I loved this. Such a gorgeous fic.

Stick Buddies - Frankie series by @auteurdelabre

You and Frankie find yourselves in a complicated situation when invited to Benny's wedding for a week in Mexico. Despite your strained friendship, you both pretend to be a couple to save Frankie embarrassment when seeing his recently engaged ex wife. However as you navigate through this charade, old feelings and unresolved issues resurface.

friends to enemies, angst, fake relationship, bickering, there's only one bed, destination weddings, enemies to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, revealed secrets, mutual pining, smut, HEA, so many fucking tropes.

friends to enemies to lovers??? Sign me the fuck up.

Where You Left Me - Frankie one shot by @chaotic-mystery

You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

This shit made me cry in the best way. Please read this.

One of Your Girls - Frankie one shot by @pedropeach

unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk)

Circle Jerk, Sub!Frankie, Bukkake, Facials, Cumplay, Cum Swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), Praise Kink, Pet Names, Dirty Talk, oral (m receiving), Deepthroating, Cock Worship, Use of restraints, Sexy Photographs, Sharing, brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf, frankie x all the guys individually, this includes tom but he's not part of the circle jerk, sry tom

Really was not expecting this to be as tender and soft and sweet as it is considering it's one of the more filthy things I've ever read. Absolutely love it.

I'll Carry You - Javi P series by @almostfoxglove

You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst. YEARNING!!!

The yearning is exquisite. The fic is exquisite. I'm in love with this fic

Remorse for Remedy - Joel series by @pedgito

Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

I haven't ever read a series about Joel immediately post outbreak, which is wild. It's always raider!joel or qz!joel or jackson!joel. I love this new perspective and I'm so excited to read more.

Biology - Joel one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship.

Well slap me silly and call me an uncle fucker because this fic was amazing. (they're not really related don't. look. at. ME.)

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

Protective Joel, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Joel is Bad at Feelings, POV Joel, Joel Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

So pumped for a new Kit fic. Super into bodyguard Joel. The angst right out the gate is so beautifully painful, I just know I'm gonna cry once a chapter at least. (i've only read one chapter, so I have some catching up to do!)

Professor's Pet - Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n

I cannot begin to explain how hot him helping her practice is. And then the smut.... I need a shower

Call It What It Is - Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

JACKSON ERA JOEL. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel.

We love overprotective Joel in this house

The Guard Dog - Pero Tovar one shot by @avastrasposts

Sent to your uncle's bleak castle in the north of England, you expect only a dreary existence until you meet his groundskeeper, a scarred, frightening Spaniard. But love in the Victorian era is not easy and life doesn't follow straight paths.

this is mainly all fluff with a bit of angst. Some of that casual racism and predjudice of the period rears its ugly head though. I've tried to keep the reader as blank as possible, but it's Victorian England and she's a lady so I have to presume she doesn't speak Spanish and has fair skin. No use of y/n.

This was so beautiful. I love the setting, I love the characterization, I love the story

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

I started reading this a while ago, but I never added it to the spreadsheet. I'm in love with how soft Tim is with Dio UgH

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

This pairing?? Obsessed. The feelings?!?!? Give me 14 more fics in this universe PLEASE

An End to Drought - Javi P one shot by @almostfoxglove

The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Javier Peña Smut, Soft Javier Peña, Sweet Javier Peña, Javier Peña Has a Big Dick, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Neighbors,Javier might be a god? who knows!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Sex, Vaginal Sex, unprotected piv, Freyr, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Post Season 3

I'm obsessed with the way the challenge was interpreted. Is Javi a god? We don't know... but he sure fucks like one.

Some shit I wrote:

Make it Hurt - Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader - sparring + pain kink

Morning Ride - Logan Howlett x f!reader - soft morning sex

You're So Dark - Dave York x f!reader - prof!Dave x student!Reader

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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blooming-violets · 8 months ago

Text

The Exhibit

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]

Warnings: use of pet names such as Daddy/Princess/Babygirl, BDSM in the form of dom/sub, bondage/spanking/blindfolds/nipple clamps/a bit of masochism, anal play, exhibitionism/voyeurism

WC: 8K

A/N: This was an anon request for window smut off of this prompt list but tumblr said a big no no to (what I'm assuming) was one of the gifs I used for the graphic and hid the post so I had to delete it. I'm reposting it again minus the very bad so naughty terrible gif I used. Porn bots can run free and terrorize the tags with their tits and wide open pussy on display but how dare a smut writer use a tastefully erotic, black and white, gif of a blurry couple making sweet, sweet love against a far away window. So naughty. Such a bad girl.

The elevator chimed with a pleasant musical melody as the doors slid open to their floor. There were only four rooms in this hallway. Behind each door held a luxury suit overlooking the busy streets of Florence.

Peter had gone all out for their honeymoon.

They’d spent the last week in Sardinia, making love on the beaches, drinking wine, making love on sailboats, drinking more wine, making love in their hotel room in the early morning with the windows open to enjoy the breeze…more wine…more sex…

They were struggling to keep their hands off of each other. Even now, as Peter guided her towards their room, his hand was slipped under her vibrantly red sundress and fingering the elastic waist of her cotton underwear.

They left the beaches of Sardinia to come to Florence specifically to see the art but she wondered if they would ever actually make it out of their room with the way Peter’s hands teased her. She was surprised that he wasn’t sick of her yet. Seven straight days of love making and he was still as rowdy as ever.

He let her admire the suite, watching her as he leaned against the wall, more interested in eying her legs in that dress than the luxury accommodations he had provided for them.

“Peter,” she whispered, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is gorgeous.”

Their beachside Sardina resort had a more airy and cool feel whereas this room screamed of sophistication and class. She knew Peter had been working like crazy leading up to their wedding but she had no idea this was why.

“Like it?” He asked with an arrogant smirk toying at his lips. “A room fit for a queen.”

She dropped her bag beside the bed and kicked off her shoes, flopping backwards onto the bed to stare up at the arched ceiling with thick, exposed wooden beams. Even the ceiling was stunning.

She felt the bed sink as Peter crawled on top of her.

His white, loose button up had the first few buttons undone so his athletic chest peeked through. She loved the sight of his chest hair being exposed. He looked so relaxed, laid back, and blissful with life. Filled with wine, good food, and love. The perfect blend of medicine for him to simply shine.

He placed a soft kiss against her lips, humming appreciatively, “You look sleepy, babe. Why don’t you take a nap while I unpack our things. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

A nap sounded wonderful after traveling between hotels. She rolled onto her side. It was warm enough that she didn’t need to snuggle under the covers. Peter ran his hands up her bare leg and slipped under her sundress to take one last squeeze of her ass before she slept.

She awoke to light kisses tickling her stomach. Peter was laid over her legs, her dress rolled up under her breasts so he could let his lips roam over her belly.

She stretched, a sleepy smile growing on her face, as she peered down at him.

“What time is it?” She mumbled through the lingering sleep.

“Time to wake up and play,” he said. He blew a raspberry on her belly with his mouth, making her laugh. “It’s about 4 in the afternoon. You slept all morning. I missed you too much to let you keep sleeping. Wake up and play with me. I’m bored.”

He had his shirt completely unbuttoned and was stripped down to his boxers to get more comfortable while he lounged around waiting for her.

Judging by the state of his hair, he looked like he might have gotten in an hour or so of sleep, too.

“Alright, alright,” she giggled. “I’m up. Let me go freshen up and then we can go explore the city.”

Peter pulled her up to her feet and gave her a quick spank as she walked off into the bathroom. That man always needed to have a hand on her ass in some way.

By the time she came back out, she was surprised to see that he had yet to get dressed and had actually lost an item of clothing.

His shirt was now thrown onto the bed, cast aside without a care.

“Underwear is a bold choice to go walking around Italy in but I admire your confidence,” she said with a teasing smile.

Peter didn’t smile back. He had a look in eyes. A look that she knew very well.

It wasn’t the “making love” look.

It wasn’t the “quickie” look.

It was dark, ravenous, and screaming of dominance.

He had yet to give her that look on their honeymoon. So far, he'd been more playful and loving. This evening, he had other plans.

They were not leaving this hotel room any time soon.

A shiver of excitement shook off whatever sleep might have still been clinging to her mind.

She blinked and he was pouncing on top of her.

Her back hit the wall but his hand slipped protectively behind her head before it slammed, instead, falling into the cushion of his palm.

Her breath exhaled from her lips at the force but, before she could catch it, he was attacking her lips with hungry, demanding kisses. His tongue pushed possessively into her mouth at the same time he slid a hand over her breast to fondle her over her dress.

Taking what was his.

“‘Can’t stand the sight of you in this dress.”

He moaned into her open mouth.

“Makes me want to rip it straight off your body.”

He grabbed at her breasts, aggressive and horny, rutting his hips against her.

“Do you know how hard it was not to fuck you while you slept?”

Her hair was being violently pulled, head crashing against the wall, her mouth falling open into a cry.

“Laying there, all innocent, legs spread open and begging for me to touch them.”

He clawed down her bare legs. Nails dragged against her skin. Feeling like she was getting attacked by a raging bear with the force of power behind each of his movements.

“Teasing me even in your sleep. A foxy, little minx, aren’t you?”

She shuddered, lowering her voice to a whisper, ready to play along, “I picked this dress just for you. I knew what it would do to you.”

He grabbed her wrists, slamming them above her head against the wall, and holding them in place. He let out a groan, grinding his stiff cock into her thigh.

“Daddy knew his babygirl was a little tease.”

A trickle of wetness soaked into her panties at the use of her favorite pet name for himself.

What had started out as a joke early in their relationship, quickly became a genuine kink to turn them on.

With that name on his lips, she could guess what kind of torture was held in store for her. It was going to be a dizzying whirlwind of fast, hard pleasure.

Peter’s voice lowered to a near growl.

“Pretty, little thing like you shouldn’t be traipsing around in a dress like that. You don’t know who might snatch you up.”

With both her wrists bound tightly in his one hand, he lifted her off the ground, dragging her up the wall, blatantly showing off his inhuman strength so she knew exactly what he could do to her if he wanted.

To him, she weighed nothing. This was a man who had stopped moving trucks with his bare hands and thrown cars around like a kid with a ball.

He let go and she dropped the few inches back to her feet with a surprised yelp.

“You’re lucky you have me to protect you. Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to his little princess, will he?”

She was shoved straight back against the wall, getting off on the feeling of being handled so roughly.

He nipped at her ear lobe, sucking it into mouth the sounds of her tumbling whimpers.

“Do you like to show off when you wear dresses like this? Do you like having men look at you? Do you like that they imaging fucking you when you walk by?”

“I only want you to fuck me. Only you,” she whined, trying to free her hands from the hold he had on her.

“Of course I’m the only who will ever fuck you, princess.”

He tugged her hand back down to flash her newly placed wedding ring in front of her face.

“That right there means that my cock is the only one that will ever split you open again. But that doesn’t mean others can’t look. People have eyes. They can see what I’ve got hanging off my arm.”

He brushed her hair away from her neck so he could lean down to graze his lips along her pulse points, murmuring against her heated skin as he continued to taunt her with his words.

“How do you expect anyone to keep their thoughts pure when you’re walking around in this?” He pulled at the bottom of her sundress. “You’re putting on a show for them, babygirl.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she cried. “It's hot out! I wanted to stay cool.”

Strong arms twisted her around so she was facing the wall, cheek shoved against the rough wallpaper. The force knocked the air from her lungs.

He bent both her arms behind her back and a strong, sticky substance shot out to bind them in place. She knew the feel of those webs well and a smile danced on her lips.

She loved being bound.

The pressure of being restrained was like a tiny slice of heaven.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you show off, princess.”

He flipped up the back of her dress to palm at her rounded cheek, giving it a harsh slap to the sounds of her delicious yelp.

“Do you look at other men, too, when they’re looking at you? Do you imagine yourself with them?”

She gasped in horror at the thought, “Of course not! I would never!”

No other man could ever compare to her husband. Not even in the game they were playing. There was always only Peter.

He hummed like he disapproved of her answer, “Well…just to be certain...I think we need to make sure you can’t let those eyes wander.”

Something smooth slipped over her eyes, leaving her in the darkness, while he tied the blindfold tightly behind her head.

Leather.

She smelled leather.

She couldn’t remember them ever owning a leather blindfold before. It must have been something Peter picked up when they arrived here but she couldn’t recall a time when he left her sight.

She liked how heavy it felt against her eyelids. There was no way she could peek through this one.

“There,” he whispered. “Perfect. Blind to my advances. Lost in the dark. Never knowing when or where I will touch.”

He gripped her hips and spun her back around to face him.

A wave of dizziness over took her and she swayed on unsteady, bare feet.

“Careful, babe,” he whispered with a tenderness to his voice, breaking his haughty charade, and reaching out a hand to steady her. “I got you.”

Peter teased a finger under her chin, leaning down, to kiss her again. Soft and gentle, filled with the love and joy only a newly married man on his honeymoon could give.

A coil of tension spread throughout her stomach as she melted into him.

Her mouth opened to willingly accept his tongue past her worshiped lips to kiss him with all the passion she could muster with her hands bound behind her.

Peter’s own hands couldn’t stay still for long before they began to wander.

He squeezed her breasts through her dress, molding them to his palm, and rutting his hips into her.

She moaned, long and drawn out, leaning her head back against the wall so he could attach his lips to her neck. He sucked on her pulse points like a vampire draining blood and she wished he had fangs so she could feel the sting of pain as he sank into her flesh.

And then he was gone.

She stumbled forward, nearly losing her footing without him to push against.

Her head whipped around in the dark to try and find him through sound.

It was useless.

He was as silent as a spider.

“Look at the sight of you,” he chuckled, his voice dark and deep, dripping with desire. From the sound of his voice, he was across the room near the window.

“You have no idea what you look like right now, do you? Don’t fret, I’ll describe it for you.

He was moving. Pacing back and forth down the length of the room against the far wall.

“The strap of your dress is halfway down your arm. The nipple of your left tit keeps poking over the fabric, desperate to be sucked upon. Your hair is already a damn mess and I’ve barely touched it. Your mouth keeps parting like it’s just waiting for a cock to fill it up. A horny little thing, aren’t you?”

“Mmm,” she moaned, only getting more turned by his descriptions. “Peter. Come back. Touch me.”

“That’s not my name, princess,” he shot back.

His voice sounded different now, like he was up on the ceiling.

“Daddy,” she begged, craning her blind head upwards toward the sound. “Touch me, Daddy.”

He gave a quiet laugh, “Come get me then.”

He was back on the floor. In a different corner by the bed. Jumping around the room. Silent. With only his voice to guide her.

She took an unsteady step forward, blindfolded with her hands bound behind her. She didn’t know this hotel room very well. He knew that.

Which was why he kept moving. Teasing her. Making her work for his love.

She kept inching ahead, little by little.

“Tick tock, princess. Daddy doesn’t have all day.”

Behind her.

She gasped, whirling around, stumbling back the way she came only to find nothing but air.

With another step, her body bounced against the wall he had pinned her to and she staggered backwards.

She tried to spin back to the way she started but was getting all turned around.

He laughed at her pitiful efforts.

In front of her again.

Near the windows.

Or maybe the beds?

Was he at the door?

She was spinning in circles. Getting disoriented.

This wasn’t a fair game and she was getting frustrated. Her foot stomped angrily against the rug with a grumpy whine to accompany it.

“Is my poor princess getting dizzy?”

She had half the thought to plop herself onto the floor and stay there until he came to her.

But she didn’t want to lose the game.

She was too stubborn to give up.

“Watch out,” he warned. Still by the window. At least…she thought that was the direction she was facing. “If you move any more, you’ll run straight into the side of a table. Wouldn’t want my baby girl to get hurt.”

The table. She remembered where that was in the room.

He was by the windows. He was close.

Excitement tumbled around in her stomach as she tasted her nearing victory.

She shuffled to the left, feeling the table at her hip, and kept going towards the last place she heard his voice.

Blind and bound until she heard his soft breaths directly in front of her, thankful that he hadn’t moved again.

“Good girl, you made it,” he whispered. A soft kiss was placed on her lips as a prize. “As a special reward, Daddy’s going to take your dress off, okay, baby? He’ll be really gentle even though he wants to rip it to shreds.”

She felt him snake an arm around her waist to rip through the webs binding her wrists. She immediately went to reach for him but he slapped her hands away.

“Hands at your side or else I’ll spank you,” he ordered. “I’m taking my time. I’m in Florence. I’m here to admire the art. Don’t rush me.”

The zipper at her side slowly inched down until it rested at her hip.

His big, warm hands slipped under her straps, fingers scraping along her shoulder, as he pushed them down her arms. His head fell down to kiss her shoulder, dragging his lips across her heated skin.

Her breasts held the dress up but the moment he gave a light tug to the bottom, it yielded quickly and pooled around her ankles on the floor.

His shuddered breath told her that he was enjoying the view. Bare chested, nipples taut, and in nothing but her underwear and blindfold.

The underwear didn’t last long.

Peter slid them down straight after the dress until she was completely nude.

“More beautiful than The Birth of Venus. We should put you in a frame and have tourists come to gaze upon that instead. Maybe I should dangle you from the wall…all tied up with nowhere to go…I’ll start my own museum right here since you love to be such a tease. I’ll put you on display and have everyone see the kind of beauty I married.”

She was surprised to feel a wave of appreciative tears dampening her lashes. There was genuine love and admiration behind his words.

Married. They were married. Finally.

Her husband.

She loved that she got to call him that now.

Cool air breezed against her throbbing clitoris, halting the tears, to remind her how horny he had made her before she was chasing him around the room. She was too hot and eager to think about where that breeze was coming from. Drunk on her love for him. She bucked her hips to try and find some kind of friction for her to grind on.

She squeezed her thighs together, rubbing them back and forth.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Peter teased. “Need a hand?”

“Please,” she gasped.

“Hmm,” he pretended to think about it.

She wished she could see him.

She hated that he was so close but she couldn’t see exactly where.

“I don’t know. With the way you were strutting around in that dress, showing off to the boys, I don’t know if you deserve my touch. Maybe you deserve to be punished instead? What do you think?”

He didn’t wait for any answer.

Thwip!

Her left wrist was encased in a sticky, impenetrable substance and she jumped in surprise.

She was yanked forward until she felt the cool breeze against her bare chest.

The wind was softly blowing.

She could feel it rustling through her hair and dragging up the goosebumps along her flesh.

For the first time, she questioned exactly where in the room she was.

Why did it feel like outside when they were inside?

“Pete?” Her voice wavered. “What are you-”

Her arm was dragged out to her side and lifted high above her head as she gave a yelp of fright.

“Not my name, princess,” he chastised from up on the ceiling above her.

Thwip!

The same treatment was done to her right arm until she was bound, outstretched, and helpless.

Her fingers wrapped around the thick web, holding onto it for purchase, as her toes just barely scraped along the floor.

Peter chuckled to himself in amusement at her struggles, the sound coming from the ground behind her.

Always so damn silent.

“You look like a sexier version of Jesus on the crucifix. I want to drive nails through those dainty little hands of yours and listen as you cry out for mercy.”

If her eyes weren’t confined under heavy leather, she would have rolled them in response to his dirty talk.

“That sounds very appealing. Thank you,” her voice was dry and full of sarcasm, refusing to take him seriously.

Slap!

Her entire body jerked forward from the force of his blow against her ass.

Strong. Stinging.

Done with direct intention to cause pain.

Punishing her for the sarcasm.

She shrieked, mostly from the shock than the hurt, but immediately felt a trickle of wetness run down her thigh.

“Won’t you be a good girl and remind me of my favorite rule?”

His hand spread out over the stinging, hot skin of her cheek, giving her swift, hard pats to make sure the pain didn’t disappear too quickly as he spoke.

She shivered under his touch, “Don’t talk back to Daddy. Ever.”

“Good girl,” he cooed. “Next time use that pretty, little brain of yours and think before you speak.”

Her hair was tangled in his large hand as he shook her head back and forth to further his point.

“Otherwise, I’ll be forced to ball gag you.”

Fingers slipped between her thighs.

She parted her legs the best she could for him to get better access to her core.

A squelching of wet, soaked squishing sounds followed as two long fingers sunk inside of her.

A low, deep moan of approval rumbled out his throat at the sounds.

“You are absolutely drenched, my little whore. Something tells me you liked the pain. Maybe you were using that brain after all. Did you like it when Daddy spanks his naughty girl?”

Her tumbling whines followed as nimble, expert fingers stroked at her pussy, drowning out any worded response she might give.

Coaxing her to life.

Waking up all her senses.

She tried her best to hold her legs open for him despite feeling unsteady in her web binds. She wanted him to give her as much pleasure as he could and that meant letting him have easy access.

“Does my baby like the pain?” He asked again, running the hand not buried inside of her against her still stinging ass cheek. “Come on, I asked you a question, use your words, pretty girl.”

“Mmm, yes, Daddy. I like it. I like it!”

Smack!

She yelped, throwing her head back as waves of arousal washed over her. The pain from the spank mixed with the pleasure of his touch was enough for another gush of fluids to soak into his hand.

“Look at how hard your nipples have gotten,” he gave a dreamy sigh. “Oh wait, you can’t. My sweet, blind baby. All lost in the dark with nothing to look at.”

Her breathing was becoming ragged in her ears. Her body swayed against the webs.

Knowing hands wrapped around her stomach, leaving the warmth of her cunt, much to her displeasure.

They trailed upwards, through the valley of her breasts, until they gripped around her neck.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“Guess where I went today?” His voice was nothing more than a low, darkening whisper.

She couldn’t respond. His hand had tightened around her, softly squeezing, using a mere feather touch of his strength but still able to restrict her air flow.

“While my princess was napping, Daddy slipped out to buy you some presents. Found myself a little sex shop. You would have loved it,” he mused. “They had vending machines full of toys. Picked myself up a few fun gadgets to play with.”

He released his hand from around her neck, never wanting to hold her there for too long, and admired the way she gasped for breath.

Fingers tweaked at her nipples. He hadn’t been lying before, they really were rock hard. She could feel how tight they were from his rough menstruations.

She could hear him rummaging around behind her when something cold dragged across her breasts.

“Deep breath, princess.”

Following his warning, the cold, grooved metal clamped down over her left nipple.

She let out a genuine cry, her back arching from the pain.

It gripped her tighter than his teeth ever had, dragging her nipple out from her body, and squeezing down painfully hard.

The groves made it feel like little razors digging into her sensitive flesh.

Peter huffed out a laugh in a sadistic amusement at her reaction, “You know, when the woman running the store saw these come out of the vending machine, she looked over with a nod and said something like ‘molto doloroso’. Now, I don’t speak much Italian but I’m going to assume it translates to ‘Those hurt like a bitch and your pain whore of a wife will love them.’ Am I right?”

She choked out a sob, squirming uncomfortably against the webs, “Ow. It hurts…too much…hate ‘em.”

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s another one right here! It’ll help balance out the pain so both those beautiful tits get a turn.”

Another agonizing clamp bit down against her other nipple. The sharp, grooved metal felt like it might rip her nipple straight off her breast.

The nipple clamps they had at home were capped with a smooth rubber. These were bare and ready to grip on to her tender skin with the strength of a fucking bear trap.

She let out a full scream the moment it bit down, thrashing her body in an attempt to get away from the clamps. Crocodile tears rolled down her cheek from under the blindfold.

“Shh, shh, shh!”

A heavy hand cut off her cries by wrapping around her mouth. His breath was against her ear, hushing her, soothing her, running his lips over her forehead with quick kisses.

“Not so loud, baby,” he whispered. “You’ll draw a crowd with those cries.”

“What?” She gasped through heavy, pained breaths. “Crowds?”

Peter’s hands reached up to slide the blindfold up off her eyes and tossed it onto the floor.

He took a step to the side, watching her blink in confusion, as her tear blurred sight came back into focus.

She had forgotten about the breeze.

He had distracted her.

Kept her mind occupied so she wouldn’t ask questions.

She was tied up, stark naked, and splayed out directly in front of the arched floor to ceiling window overlooking the streets of Florence.

The top half of the glass was pushed open, letting in the cool evening summer breeze, and making sure nothing muffled the sounds of her screams.

And she had been screaming.

“Peter!” She cried in horror, paranoid that anyone could look up and see her. They weren’t that high up in the hotel. Any curious person who decided to glance upwards would certainly catch her out in all her glory.

Wack!

The sound of her sore ass being slapped filled her ears.

Nothing could hurt more than her breasts at the moment and she welcomed the familiar pain his hands brought.

She also couldn’t deny that growing, aching pressure happening between her legs. Her masochistic tendencies had yet to fail her.

“Not my name,” he scolded.

She whined, bouncing her leg against the floor in protest, and trying to tug at her bindings.

“Let me down!”

She knew full well that those webs would never give but it didn’t stop her from giving it a shot.

He leaned against the wall beside the open window, arms crossed, a prideful smirk sitting on his smug face, watching her struggle.

“I told you I was going to put you on display.”

She never thought he meant it literally.

Tears burned in her eyes at the wave of shame at being so exposed.

At least the shock helped to dull the pain in her breasts.

She scanned the tight streets below and was thankful to see that no one was stopped and staring.

Yet.

Her watchful eyes followed Peter as he pushed off from the wall and moved behind her.

Breath caught in her throat as his fingers found a home back inside of her drenched pussy.

“Still as wet as ever, I see,” he noted. “You can cry and beg and plead all you want but Daddy knows the truth. He sees behind your tears.”

Slick fingers circled around her aching clit.

Toying with it.

Teasing her.

“You like being held up on a pedestal.”

A long, skinny middle finger sunk inside of her.

Her head rolled back. Eyes closed.

“You like people hearing you cum.”

His thumb on her clit.

Brushing. Stroking.

Building her pleasure.

“You like having others watch as your Daddy pleasures his princess.”

In and out.

Slowly penetrating her with his finger.

Tending dutifully to that tiny bundle of nerves.

“You like the pain.”

He flicked at her nipple clamps.

Sending shots of pain throughout her breasts.

Electrifying her.

Soothing it over with those wonderful ministrations at her pussy.

“You love me and you’ll let me do anything I want to your gorgeous body…isn’t that right?”

She whimpered.

Eyes closed tight.

Feeling that build of orgasmic pleasure rising.

“I love you,” she breathed back, tears in her eyes. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He practically purred in her ear.

Or maybe it was a growl.

Whatever it was, the noise caused her cunt to gush in reply.

He chucked, “That’s it baby, you’re so close. I can feel you tightening around my fingers. What do you say we give the people a show?”

He was gone.

Leaving her empty.

Dripping.

Pathetically whining and begging for a finish.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he called from the other end of the room. “Daddy bought some more toys. He’s going to treat his baby tonight.”

She listened to the zipping of a bag as he rustled through to find what he was looking for.

Her chest rose and fell in anticipation. Each breath brought back the dulling sting from her nipples. She tried to keep still, terrified more movement would draw attention upwards toward the window.

She gave a quiet shudder at the thought and tried to imagine what she would look like from down below.

The image brought a glint of a wicked smile to her lips.

Something small and chilly brushed against her back door and she yelped in surprise.

Slap!

“Hold still!” He scolded.

The sound of a bottle squirting caused her to try to careen her head around to see what he was doing behind her.

She managed to catch a glimpse of the butt plug he held in his hand.

It looked a bit bigger than the small one they used at home but had the same metal teardrop shape. A red jewel flattened out the end.

“Figured this was the next size up from your old friend. You leveled up from girlfriend to wife. Time to level up in other areas, too.”

Lube smeared over her tight hole as the cold, rounded point pushed against it.

Not even a warm up with his fingers first.

Peter really was in a dominant, pent up mood.

Her eyes slipped closed and her head fell back against her arched spine. She let out a deep breath, relaxing her body as much as she could, so it could slide in easier.

“Ah, ow,” she gasped, hissing in pain. “Oh, fuck.”

Slow and steady he sunk it into her.

He held it there, stopped in place, over the thickest part of the teardrop. Forcing her body to stretch to the foreign object.

She tried to control her whines from being too loud. Her thighs trembled under her. Her face contorted into pain and her jaw clenched.

More lube trickled down between her crack to help the little device along as Peter took note of her tensing body.

“There you go, baby,” he encouraged. “Nice and easy. Breathe through it.”

He teased it through her ass, pushing it in a little ways and pulling it back out, making her continue to take on the thickest part of the plug just to keep up to torture a bit longer.

“Please, Daddy,” she whimpered. “Just put it in. Please.”

“Aww, does my sweet baby need her ass filled? You’re Daddy’s little fuck toy. Daddy’s going to have any hole he wants. You have no say in where he ends up.”

He refused to move it past the diameter, holding it steady.

“Did you happen to catch the color of that tacky, little jewel they stuck on the end?”

He pulled it back out.

Teasing just the tip.

Exciting the bundle of sensory nerves around her anus and making her wriggle around.

“Spider-Man red. Just for you.”

Finally, he eased the entire thing inside of her.

“Ahhh!” She wailed. “Fuck!”

Filling her up.

Swallowing the plug.

Feeling it heavy inside of her.

“So you’ll always remember who owns this ass.”

Smack!

His hand came down hard against her bruising cheek.

Ecstasy coursed through her veins at the sting.

She was so full. Stretched and heavy. Uncomfortably aroused.

An arm snaked up her own outstretched one to brush his fingers over her wedding ring, lacing his fingers with hers.

His bare chest pressed against her back, grinding his hips over her ass.

His face fell against her neck, inhaling her scent, nuzzling his nose against her.

“My beautiful wife,” he breathed. “All tied up. Horny for her husband. Put out on display for all of Florence to see.”

Fingers wrapped around her waist to dip through her pubic hair, finding her heated crevice, needy for his touch.

Palming. Flicking. Penetrating.

“Nipples clamped. Ass filled. My name, cursed forever on your lips. All you need now is a cock to fill that empty cunt.”

He fished it from the confines of his boxers.

Dragging it along her soaked valley.

Feeling it pulsate against her waiting lips.

“No!” She gasped, staring down at the people below.

She knew once he started to fuck her she couldn’t keep quiet. Her voice would soar out the open window and onto the people below.

They would look.

They would see her.

“What if-” Her breath quickened. “What if someone looks up? They’ll hear me. They’ll look. I know they will.”

She didn’t need to see his face to know Peter had a cheshire cat grin growing. The sound of his voice was enough to hear his rising libido.

“Then they’ll see a little princess fucking herself on her Daddy’s cock.”

The bulbous head of his thick rod pressed between her folds.

Sinking in.

Stretching her out.

He hesitated there. Stilling behind her.

“Go on, baby. Fuck yourself. Let everyone see what a whore you can be.”

She almost didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to give in. She could play games, too.

Her breath held in her lungs. Closing her eyes. Biting down on her bottom lip.

Peter waited.

The crown of his manhood nestled patiently in her pussy, being squeezed by her heated walls, kissed by her slick.

Letting her throw her silent tantrum.

She hung there, counting the seconds, fighting the urge to move, trying to breathe through her body’s desires.

Her legs were trembling. Her toes ached from holding her weight.

It would be so easy to just…ease back…impale herself on his sword…give up.

She could hear his labored breaths behind her. Smelled his cologne. Felt him twitching inside of her.

“Close the windows,” she struggled to whimper out through her held breaths. “Let’s go to the bed. Take me there. Fuck me there. I’ll let you do anything you want. Just…not…not in front of the window.”

Peter tutted his tongue, “Since when has Daddy ever let you make the demands, hmm?”

He reached his hands up to her shoulders and gave a gentle push, getting tired of her defiance, “When I tell you to fuck yourself, you fuck yourself. I’m not going to do it for you.”

Even the smallest of shoves from her shoulders was enough for her tiptoed feet to give out. She stumbled back, feeling his cock sink deeper.

She let out a strangled cry.

“No! On the bed. Bring to me to the bed!”

Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to see the window in front of them, torn between finding it extremely arousing and positively mortifying.

“I’m sorry, princess. The bed is for good girls. The bed is for well behaved women who don’t wear little dresses and shake their ass as they walk for all the men to stare at. The bed is for lovers.” His hand gripped around her hair and shoved her face towards the window. “The window is for whores who get off on pain and love the attention their Daddy gives them.”

His voice lowered into a commanding, deep tone, “Open your fucking eyes and look at your audience.”

She blinked through the flow of overly emotional tears clinging to her lashes and forced her eyes open.

People lined the tight, winding streets, walking lazily to their destination. Not one glanced up at them. Not one seemed to notice her out on display, front and center, above their heads. Peter was protected behind her body. She would be the one they see.

Framed by the window.

Art.

That’s what he called her earlier.

She was art and Peter, the artist.

Helpless to whatever ways he wanted to exhibit her

Little by little she sunk back onto his cock. Taking him into her. Eyes rolling back. Submitting to his demands until he bottomed out.

His chorus of pleased moans let her know he had won.

She let her body get used to him inside of her. Her pussy knew his cock well by now but she liked to reacquaint them carefully every time they would meet.

Peter was always a bit of a stretch.

With the girthier plug shoved in her ass, her arms bound and outstretched, and her nipples screaming in pain, she felt the need to move a little slower with her pussy today.

Gradual, small movements, easing herself up off his cock and then impaling herself back down.

Slow and steady.

She shifted on her toes, rocking her hips back and forth, taking him with longer and longer strides as her shameful whimpers grew into desperate cries.

“There you go,” he murmured, brushing her hair back off her shoulder to nip at her skin with his teeth. “Ride Daddy’s cock, babygirl. Show everyone how good you can take it.”

Her own slick coated his shaft, making it slip through her without resistance.

He stayed fairly still behind her apart from making sure his hips were pressed forward enough for her to have easy access to his body.

She was getting into a rhythm. Starting to get lost in the feelings.

But, the harder she fucked herself, the more her breasts would sway.

The more they moved, the more pain the clamps created as they bit down like they might cut clean through her flesh.

It was getting to the point where it might be too much pain for her to enjoy and ruining her momentum on his cock.

She hissed, biting down on her lip, trying to endure it the best she could manage.

Peter shifted behind her, bringing his lips to her ear, and whispering for reassurance, “Color?”

She swallowed, trying to decide exactly what she was feeling, “G-green?”

He stilled her by gripping onto her hips, keeping himself buried inside her warmth, but moving his head around in an attempt to better see her face.

“You sure? You don’t sound sure.”

She nodded, breathing heavily, “Almost yellow. Not quite though. But almost.”

“Which part?” He trailed loving kisses of safety along her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist to hug her sweetly from behind.

“The clamps.” When she saw his hands immediately move to take them off her, she hurried to add. “Not yet! I…still like them…but soon, okay?”

“Soon,” he agreed, giving her one more adoration infused kiss to her cheek, before slipping back into character. “Daddy never told his little princess to stop, did he?”

To shove her back into the role, he slapped her ass with three hard, lashing blows of his open palm.

Each slap caused her breasts to bounce, sending shooting shocks of pure, agonizing pain through her body and a rush of warmth to her cunt.

Pain and pleasure. Her favorite combination.

“Looks like the sweet little angel is getting quite the bruise back here. If you keep misbehaving, you won’t be able to sit down for our breakfast tomorrow. Then everyone will know what a bad, little whore you’ve been.”

She whined in response, bucking her hips backwards to find his cock again, needing more pleasure to balance out the scales.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

He soothed his hands over her shoulders, pushing her down, sinking her onto his length.

“My pain hungry baby.”

It wasn’t difficult to fall back into her previous rhythm. Her cunt was soaked and starving for its lover to come back home.

“Fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Let those people down there know how much you love me. Be louder, princess. I want them to hear.”

She whimpered out a tiny cry.

Her motions grew frantic the more he continued to talk dirty in her ear.

That tiny cry grew into loud, unadulterated, guttural moans.

The sounds of a whore taking her favorite cock.

She struggled against the webs binding her. Her shoulders were starting to ache. Her arms were losing feeling.

Her body was stretched tight. Nipples crying. Ass sore. The weight of the plug was even more noticeable with his cock pushing in and out of her.

It felt like it was bouncing inside of her each time he pushed under it.

Her toes hurt from being hung up on such an unsteady height.

“Peter- Daddy,” she gasped. “Daddy, please…”

She didn’t know what she was asking for.

Some kind of relief.

Something steadier. Something more concrete.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s got you.”

He reached around to her chest with both hands, simultaneously unclamping her nipples from their prison.

Fire erupted in its place as the blood rushed back.

A new kind of pain bloomed.

Searing and hot.

Her breasts were in flames.

She cried out. Loud and sharp.

At the same moment, Peter ripped her down from the webs, still embedded on his cock as he wrapped her up in tight arms and pushed her flat against the window.

Her hips pressed against the cool glass but her torso nearly bent out the opening.

Her anguished nipples happily sought out the cool breeze. Soothing over the sting. Settling her inflamed body. Not caring who looked up.

Peter gripped onto her hips so he could better ram into her. Her job was over. She had done what he wanted.

Now it was his turn to take over.

Her body surrendered to him.

“Ugnnn,” she whined. “Fuck!!”

Her hands clenched into fists against the glass. Her back arched.

Eyes wide.

Taking his thrusts with near drooling moans.

His rigid shaft drove into her, surging deep up inside, stretching her walls and drawing out the most luscious rumbles of pleasure.

His balls slapped up against her. The sound echoing around their vaulted ceiling.

Filling her. Stuffing her full.

Both holes used and defiled.

She couldn’t stop the noises she was making. Throaty moans, shrieking cries, babbling coos.

He was getting it all out of her.

Someone was watching. Looking at them. Spying them from down below.

A young couple.

“Daddy!” She sobbed. “They’re-”

“Shh,” he hushed her. “I know, baby. I see ‘em, too. They like what they see. They’re talkin’ about us. Enjoyin’ it.”

A broken cry fell from her lips and she stared down through her tears at the couple.

Her eye sight wasn’t the greatest. She couldn’t make out their faces very clearly but neither of them looked horrified.

They looked…giggly…

The woman was running her hand along her partner's arm. His hand disappeared behind her back and traveled down to her ass.

Harder and harder Peter slammed.

She was being ravaged by his strength. Losing the ability to make any noise.

Nothing but silent, open mouthed gasps and a raining of tears were all that came out.

“Too-” He grunted, crashing into her again. “Hard?”

Through a shuddering, gasping breath, she managed to choke out, “Don’t you fucking stop.”

As long as Peter was fucking her like this, he could do it any way he wanted. He could drag her out onto the streets and fuck her at that nosy couples feet if he pleased.

It was his art show. He held the control.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Didn’t pause.

His finger marks would be bruised into the soft flesh of her hips for the upcoming days with how tightly he gripped them.

She held eye contact with the watching woman down below. Stared straight at her. Sizing her up, silently challenging her to get as good a fuck from her partner as she was from Peter.

She wanted to make her jealous. Or horny.

Either was fine as long as the woman was thinking of her.

“Yes, Daddy!” She cried, loud enough for her voice to carry down below. “Feels so good! Making your little girl feel so good!”

She knew damn well Peter’s face was cast in the shadows behind her. The idea of this couple truely thinking she was being fucked by her own father made her laugh under her breath.

“Somethin’ funny, princess?” His voice was getting strained and she knew that meant he was getting closer to his release.

“Just enjoying my fans,” she gasped back. “They love what you’re doing.”

Her eyes were wild as she breathed in the fresh air.

She felt free.

She was married and in love. They were on their honeymoon in Italy.

She was getting absolutely pounded by her husband in full view of a watching, interested couple.

She should be embarrassed, ashamed.

But all she felt was bliss.

That plunging, relentless cock, massaging her channel, thick veins grazing over that tender g-spot whenever she angled her body correctly, the weight of the plug in her ass, her aching nipples…

Everything was pushing her straight towards her final hurdle.

Without much warning, it suddenly became all too much. No build up.

Just explosions.

A wave of ferocious, intense pleasure roared over her, sweeping her up, taking her by surprise.

She came hard and fast.

Sheiking. Crying out.

Thrashing against the window, leaning half way out of it, trying to gasp for air.

Peter grabbed at her hair to yank her back inside like he was terrified of losing her over the edge.

“Fuck, princess,” he grunted. “Where ya goin’?”

Her ears defended under the rush of blood swelling to her head but she was certain she was screaming in ecstasy from the way Peter’s hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her sounds.

She contracted tightly around his cock, squeezing him, using him to further her explosion of pleasure, still feeling the stinging pain of her breasts to only shove her deeper into subspace.

On and on her orgasm went. Unstoppable. As Peter kept driving into her and furiously rubbing his fingers over her clit.

He kept her heightened. Overloaded. Knowing that it would destroy her.

She had the brief sensation of feeling him cumming inside of her. Feeling the spurt of warmth. Feeling full.

But her agonizing long orgasm only served to weaken her rational thinking. She no longer existed. She was no longer on solid ground.

Floating. Drifting through space.

Lost amongst the stars.

Finally, her body gave up.

Finally, the orgasm came to a simmering hault.

She was done.

She hung limply against the window pane. Eyes rolling in her head. Twitching and whimpering.

Peter scooped her into his protective arms, cradling her against his chest, peering his face to see their onlookers.

“Shows over!” He called down to them. “Fuck off!”

Without his raging, pent up, sexual energy to seize control of his brain, he no longer liked the idea of anyone getting to view his naked wife besides him. His protective nature spiked to replace his dwindling arousal and he turned his back to the window to shield her with his body.

He carried her away from their stares back into the safety of privacy where she belonged.

She made no protests or struggles as their game finished. Her head hung limp against his shoulder.

“My sweet girl,” he murmured in her ear. She was being placed on their bed. “Daddy’s going to clean you up. Wait here.”

Time wasn’t real.

She blinked and he reappeared holding a warm, wet cloth to her legs.

Over her thighs.

Spreading her open.

Cupping it against her used and battered sex.

Gently cleaning away their mess.

“There,” he whispered. “All better.”

Peter crawled into bed in front of her, wrapping an arm over her waist and kissing at the tip of her nose.

Gradually, she returned to her body, her mind drifting slowly back into her skull.

“Mmmm,” she groaned. “Everything hurts. Think you broke me.”

He chuckled to himself, soothing a hand over an abused nipple, “Sweet girl. I’ll try to find you some ice in a minute. But, right now, I’m not leaving your side until you fully wake up. Rest, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

When she adjusted herself on the bed, sliding a leg through his, she took note of the fact that the plug was still snuggly lodged inside of her.

Their night was only just beginning.

He had left it there on purpose.

She kind of liked it.

Maybe she would wear it out to dinner…

#andrew garfield #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x reader fic #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader fic #spiderman #spiderman fic #the exhibit #blooming violets fic #blooming violets

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 4 months ago

Text

The Mermaid

Dhawan!Master x Fem!Reader

A/N: This started out as an archetype character study. And now, a year and three months later, its one of the best stories I've ever written, with some of the best smut I've put to the page. Oh how the turn tables. Vibes: Mermaids and Cassandra by Florence + the Machine, and Abstract (Psychopomp) and DeSelby (Part 2) by Hozier Also, I want to give a huge shout out to @insane-brit for beta reading this for me! She was the biggest support as I was writing this story and I can't thank her enough for her feedback!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: You and the Master are visiting a human colony far, far in the future. But there’s a species native to this planet which plagues the small ocean-front village. Mermaids they’re called. After the old Earth myths. When the villagers attempt to separate you and the Master, they realize all too late the mistake they've made. When a storm rolls in and and an eerie shape crawls up the shore, the village shuts it's doors and you and the Master must face the consequences of their actions. Will you and the Master reunite? Or will the Mermaids take a bite out of the old Timelord's hearts?

Warnings: 18+, No Minors, Explicit Sexual Content✨if you’re younger than 18 or have no age in your bio, I will not hesitate to block you.✨ Sexual Warnings: Porn With Plot, Sex + Telepathy = Needy Whiny Timelord, So Much Kissing, Dry Humping, Clothed Sex (sorta), Thigh Worship, Licking, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, So Much Praise, Switching/Undefined Power Dynamics, Eventually Service Dom Master, Fingering, Nipple Play, Unprotected PIV Sex, The Most Reverent Smut I’ve Ever Written, Post-Sex Cuddles Warnings Unrelated to Smut: imagery of drowning/character nearly drowning; storms, thunder and lightning; alien possession; blood/bloody imagery/mild gore; minor character death; the reader is described as having hair, though length isn’t specified; the reader is described with a certain eye color, but that’s the result of an *ehem* temporary condition and isn’t meant to be the reader’s real eye color; characters considering their death; pining; angst with a happy ending; this man is whipped for you. I think that's all, but let me know if anything else needs added!

Word Count: 17.1k

Masterlist!

His fingertips barely brushed yours. It was enough to feel your touch, but not enough to take hold of your hand before the village men dragged you out of his reach.

The Master’s hearts plummeted, adrenaline raged through his veins as he tried to run after you. He jolted hard to break the grip of his captors, but the village men held strong, keeping him in place as the others dragged you to the edge of a nearby cliff.

The Master cried out your name, still trying to pull himself free from the hands digging into his shoulders and sides. His hearts were racing, he couldn’t breathe, images of you falling into the sea played over and over and over again, jolting through his mind in a blind panic.

“Throw me over instead! Throw me to the Mermaids! Do anything you want with me! Just let her go!” He demanded of the villagers.

“Hush, heathen!” One of the men admonished, slapping the Master across the face. “The Mermaids are hungry and the woman is unimportant! You are all we need tonight!” The man approached the Master, his hot breath dragging across the timelord’s face, “And believe me alien, were it not for the request of our gods, you would both be over the cliff tonight! There is no place for your godless practice in this settlement!”

The villager’s face contorted with the deepest, most seething rage he could muster. His face reddened, eyes wild and mad, and his fists clenched white. And yet it paled in comparison to the budding fury searing hot across the Master’s face. This growing, heaving anger blooming in his chest would squash the villager’s life force like the tiny, insignificant insect it was.

But then he heard your voice, your scared, strained voice, crying out for him and it all died in an instant — his rage fizzling out until only concern remained.

The Master’s eyes snapped to you, but it was too late. He only got a glimpse of your terrified eyes before you were thrown over the cliff side, crying to the gray foaming ocean below.

“No!” The Master yelled, trying once more to pull himself to the edge. He managed to break the villagers’ hold on him for a second, budging a few inches closer to the cliff. He wanted to see you. He had to see you. Certainly you’d caught a rock on the cliff side, or you were able to hang onto the edge somehow. You just—you had to. You had to have survived. You couldn’t leave him. Not now. Not when—

–he heard the splash of your body landing in the cold waves below. He froze. His mind went blank and all the seaside fell silent. There was no more hungry wailing. No more pleas for help. Even the drums were quiet for a moment.

Pain shot up his knees when they hit the ground. The grass beneath him was cold and hard. The Master’s eyes were still fixed on the edge of the cliff as a massive, heaving weight settled in his hearts. Even the dusky sky, with all its cloudless stars, couldn't console him. The comfort he usually found in the endless night sky was hollow and empty as tears pooled in his eyes. He didn’t fight when the villagers started to drag him away, staining his billowing linen shirt with the dirt you’d been standing on. He just kept staring at the spot, hoping mindlessly, begging for you to reappear or for him to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.

But nothing happened.

And the only thing he felt was the gravel beneath his feet as the men dragged him away.

The water hit you hard. The cold cut through your clothes, your skin, your muscles, all the way down to the bone until you were sure you’d never move again. Your eyes burned in the saltwater. The sky was blurred beneath the waves. Even the brightest stars didn’t make it through the blinding waters.

You felt somewhere between life and death. The waving, lapping surface above slowly disappeared as you sank into the deep blue vignette below. You wanted to swim to the surface - every synapse fired, jolts of electricity begging you to reach out, to grasp at the water until you found air, but your limbs wouldn’t move. They hung at your side like lead, dragging you down toward the sea floor. The water was cold and pain screamed throughout your body and you just kept sinking.

And sinking

Until something brushed against your leg, trailing behind it a melodic hum.

You jolted - your body awakened from its frozen stun. Your lungs burned and your body ached, but despite that, you fumbled with your floating linen dress to find the knife you’d strapped to your thigh.

In a matter of moments, you were swarmed by ravenous, hungry beings — native aliens if you remembered what the Master had said. Their huge eyes shined shades of blue and silver in the shallow water, their gray bodies slim and gaunt with hunger. Their thick, long tails glittered when they got close enough to the surface and—

The Master!

What—what had happened to him? What did they do to him after you fell? You remembered hearing him cry your name as you fell, but after that, there was only the cold, wet sea. You didn’t know where he was. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as if trying to beat its way to the surface. You had to get back to him. You had to find him. You—

You jolted as a searing, stinging pain stabbed through your shoulder, waking you again from your panicked recollection.

You shook your head and swung the dagger, slashing blindly at the aliens around you. The blade slashed something - one of their tails if you guessed - and a dark, thick substance bled into the water.

The melodic humming wrenched into screeches, scraping dissonance in your ears. It hurt. You wanted to run away, far away, and never hear that awful screaming again. But the water was so thick and you were so tired and your shoulder hurt. The pain was still coursing down your arm, thick and burning in your blood.

The mermaids still swarmed, biding time to see if you were prey they could ravage for their hungry, bloody mouths to feast upon. They swam around you like a frenzied beast made of so many hungry, bloodthirsty things. They moved in some undulating shape surrounding you, growing ever closer, still screeching into the waters.

You lashed out again, slashing what felt like one of their gray, lifeless faces with your small knife. For once, you were glad the Master had insisted you take some sort of defense with you. The thick, bloody substance was warm against your hand, distracting you from the wailing uproar.

With one last slash, the mermaids broke apart their frenzy and dove to the deep, leaving you to float among their blood. Perhaps they were too weak to fight for their food, or they saw you as too much of a danger to hunt. You didn’t care.

Your shoulder burned, but at least it was keeping you awake. You did your best to right yourself in the ocean and tread the darkening water. The cold night air nearly took the breath from your lungs once you broke the surface, but that didn’t matter. You could see the shore. You weren’t too far off. You just had to make it to the sand, then you could rest. Then you could breathe.

You tried to swim. Despite your shoulder and your aching muscles and the ever-biting cold, you tried, but with every move you felt that horrid pain seep through your blood again. It burned worse and worse with every movement until everything felt ablaze. Your throat, your fingertips, your ears, even your skin felt like it was seizing with white-hot pain. You did your best to stay awake, but by now you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even breathe. You only felt the raging, convulsing pain twitch through your body before you succumbed to it and the dark waves surrounding you.

The grainy sand was rough against your face.

The sand?

When had you…?

You blinked. The breeze was cold. Icy waves stung your body as they rolled onto shore. You shivered as you tried to lift yourself off your stomach. Your whole body ached from…from what?

The Mermaids. Right. You’d been thrown into the ocean and they swarmed you. You fought them off with a knife and then…

Your shoulder burned and you were quick to press your hand to it, trying to remember why it hurt so much.

Night had fallen since you blacked out, the jeweled sky winked and blinked down at you. The moon shone beautiful and alluring in the corner of your eye. It reminded you of someone.

Who…who was it? Who did it remind you of? It was right there on the tip of your tongue. He was your friend….Your best friend…someone you—

You felt something change - something tick, and suddenly, blooming hot across your chest was a seething, thundering, rage.

And then the rain began to fall.

The villagers didn’t worry about the rain. They lived by the shore. Storms were common; even more so at this time of the year.

But some who lived closer to the shore noticed a shape crawling its way up the sand towards the village. It pulled itself from the water like it was made of the water, dripping muddy sand and salt from its long, clawed fingertips.

As the creature drew closer to the village, the more curious residents tried to get a better look, and those with a strong will to live drew themselves and their children back into their white, wooden, thatched houses.

As the shape drew closer, those curious few noticed, as it stood, that its silhouette was vaguely human-shaped. It seemed like…but no, it couldn’t have been…but anyone who saw the shape approaching, they could tell you: it looked like a woman. Like a human woman. She wore a linen dress, stained by the ocean water and what looked like blood. Her floating gait dragged her up the shore, closer and closer to the cast-iron gateway that separated the village from the sea. But there was no way a person could come from the sea like that. This small village was the only human settlement for miles in any direction. Any islands off the coast were too far to swim from. This woman’s circumstance should be impossible. There was no feasible way unless…

Some who were watching turned their eyes to the cliffs, then to the sea, then to her, and a shiver ran down their backs. The moonlight seemed to haunt the cliff side and gleam off the waters, and when it refracted off the sea, every beam of light seemed to point to her. Just steps away from the gate, she stepped into the full moonlight, bearing to anyone watching what happened when their ritual went wrong. The woman glowed in the cool light, and something petrifying, something terrifying seemed to roll off her with every rise of her chest, as though every breath she took was stolen from the lungs of those watching her.

The whole village saw her. From their windows they watched her trudge through their home in some otherworldly, inhuman, alien fashion. Parents covered their children’s eyes for fear of her. Others shuttered their windows. Yet there was some beauty about her. Something alluring, tempting, despite the trail of blood down the back of her dress and the long claws overgrowing the ends of her fingers. Even as the rain muddled her shape and she stepped further and further up the hill, the villagers continued watching as though they couldn’t stop.

One villager, enchanted by her sublime beauty, did not hide as the others had. He stared from his front door as she walked up the cobble road to stand beneath the village’s arched gateway. Her skin was dappled with scales glinting silver in the moonlight. Frilled fins peeked through her wet hair, dripping a halo of droplets to her shoulders. She stopped beneath the archway, closing her eyes and turning her head to the bleak sky. She smelled the air, looking for something, or someone. After a second, after listening to the breeze, she seemed to find what she wanted, turning her head to the church at the end of the road, atop a hill.

The villager was drawn to her, and when he took a step down the stairs of his porch, the stairs creaked – a whining cry for the shining storm ahead.

Her eyes snapped to him, and the villager met the piercing, glowing color of cresting waves and sea foam. Her gaze was made of the sea - just as cold and empty and inhuman as the waters on the horizon. When she looked at him, lightning cracked across the sky, pinning him where he stood.

He stumbled back up the steps and scrambled his way through the door of his home, trembling as his hand gripped the doorknob. Part of him longed to step back outside and run to her, but the fear with which she had bewitched him trembled in his heart and he settled on watching her through his window. He sent a prayer to his gods in the hope she might pass through their village and cause no harm. Or that the gods might smite her before she could ruin the ritual.

Either way, while she was here, in his line of sight, he would watch her shape disappear through the village, dripping saltwater and seaweed in her wake. He would admire her beauty, and dream of falling to her feet with the rain.The rain itself healed at the tips of her toes. A wall of it as far as the eye can see all falling in line with her every step. She was walking rage, making her way up the main road, prowling to the church like a funeral procession. Her glowing gaze cast only to the stark white steeple. To him.

There was a landing on the way up the hill; A small plaza decorated with white flower garland and a mosaic tiled floor. And on that plaza, there were guards meant to protect those in the church this night. They were little more than regular villagers with guns and spears. Still, they blocked the path to the stark, white building.

The flower garland was heavy, drooping under the weight of the rain, and still it drooped further. With every step she took, the rain fell harder, smattering against the mosaic floor in a sheet of palpable rage. Rainwater puddled in the grout, spilling up and over the tiles until it flooded the plaza. Roaring thunder made the ground tremble. Lightning wailed across the sky. Her eyes flashed silver upon her prey, breathing heavy like some feral creature, hunting, hungry, licking her teeth, yearning for the taste of sweet blood.

One guard, someone she recognized from before, came to stand in her way, blocking her path to the church. He raised his rifle, something threatening in his eyes despite his trembling hands.

“You will not pass us, girl! The ceremony must go uninterrupted! It is the will of our g—“

She ripped her claws through his soft belly, snarling as his eyes widened and slowly glazed over. His throat bubbled with a painful groan, and blood seeped from his lips before he slumped and fell off her claws to the wet mosaic floor.

The rest of the guards were too scared to move. They stared as she tasted the warm blood from her claws and heard her pleased hum as a twisted smile curled onto her face.

One of the guards whispered, quiet as he could, to the other beside him while the creature was distracted, “This must be one of the mermaids come to shore. I’m sure of it.”

“No,” the other guard refuted, “This is the woman we threw over the cliff! The mermaids must have changed her.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know. Though, rumors say only a bite—“

Thunder cracked above them, lightning flashing as she pinned the guards with a wrathful glare, her claws licked nearly clean. Any other remaining guards had run off as soon as they snapped out of their shock, leaving these two to the woman.

They looked to one another and backed away, turning and running and almost tripping over themselves to get away from her. They didn’t even look back to see if she was following them.

She wasn’t. She didn’t care about them. Instead, she wiped any remaining blood from her claws on the dead man’s coat and turned toward the church. Up the hill, she could see faint light shining through the windows and the warm glow from the lamps that hung just outside the front doors like beacons.

She went to them. Her eyes never left the shuddering old door or the warm halo of light from the oil lamps as she stepped over grass and gravel to reach the church. The rain grew heavier and heavier - a near whiteout by the time she reached the worn, wooden doors. It pummeled her shoulders and thumped angrily against the church’s roof.

With a crack of thunder that shook the small building, she slammed the door open and lightning struck behind her, flashing the small chapel in white-hot light - her warning to all in the small room.

Through the group of men who had turned to gawk, she saw him – someone…familiar. Someone she knew…someone she—

“We know not what you are, woman,” one of the villagers spat, “but you will not stop the ceremony! The gods have demanded he—“

Once again, she ripped through this villager’s belly, grabbing at his throat to watch him die before dropping his body to the ground.

Some men ran. The others died. She rent their bellies to ribbons, spilling blood from their throats, breaking delicate skin, biting with sharpened fangs, all until the villagers were motionless puddles of blood and viscera, their weapons strewn across the ground, glinting at her feet like seawater.

When all was still, she breathed in and let out a calm, relaxed breath, looking down at her blood-soaked hands and the smatterings on her dress. Rain still pattered on the roof.

A quiet voice called her name. Her name?…She’d forgotten she had a name.

How do you forget a thing like that?

She turned to find the voice’s owner tied to a post, shoved down to his knees on the dirty wooden floor. His pants were dusty and stained from the ground. He was looking at her. For a brief second, she smiled at the sight of him. She didn’t know why, so she shook the expression from her face. What was he doing to her? Why had she come for him in the first place?

She knew him. It bothered her. Something about him was familiar to her…somewhere, hidden deep within her, she knew he was important, but despite the feeling of familiarity that bloomed warm and soft when she met his charming, brown eyes, she didn’t know why. Some other part of her mind urged her to kill him like the others, but the only thing she could focus on was the red stain across the chest of his linen shirt. A stain she hadn’t caused.

He called out her name once more.

Her eyes snapped, piercing and unnatural, to his. His voice was honey-smooth and just the sound of it sent waves of calm across her body. With apprehension, she approached him, slowly stepping towards this familiar man. His eyes were wide, staring into her own with something like disbelief in them. Something pulled her to him. Something inside her. Something fond, and happy. Something like–

She couldn’t kill this man. Never him.

She kneeled in front of him and reached one of her bloodied hands out to hold his face. With the other, she grazed his shirt’s bloody, torn fabric.

She didn’t know why she reached out to hold this man. Her hands moved on their own. The skin she felt through the ripped linen was cold and cut, but the wound was warm - wet with spilled and still-spilling blood. He was still bleeding. She looked into his eyes for a moment more, then they drifted and followed the dried tear stains on his face down to the wound across his chest.

The Master shuddered. Your hands were cold, touching his skin in ways you never would. You were lifeless behind the glowing eyes that bore into his own - their unnatural shade so unlike your own. Every move you made was stiff, every time you blinked he felt a moment of relief. You were not you. He knew right away. And any time you looked at him, he felt a shiver of the cold ocean ripple down his back. And yet, he still felt the tiniest second of relief when you’d slammed open the church door. Not all was lost. At least not yet.

“Darling, what's happened to you?” He whispered once more, something fearful shaking in his voice.

Without a word, she rounded the post and cut his ties.

The Master’s arms fell to his side and he took a second to stretch them, touching the burns the ropes had left behind. His eyes never left her though, and he noted the long, talon-like claws that you’d used to cut his ties.

You rounded the post again to face him and offered a bloodied hand to help him up.

He hesitated, but took your outstretched hand, standing as you turned and led him out the chapel door.

There was no other option, really. He never would have left you. Though he hesitated in taking your hand, there was no universe in which he didn’t. You were his companion and you’d been by his side through so much. Even now, you still came to get him. Even when you weren’t entirely yourself. Even when he’d failed you.

It made him shiver - just the thought of it. He’d failed you. Not even the cold, needle-prick rain falling against his face could shake the thought from his mind. He had watched you fall over the cliff and done nothing to stop it. His mind replayed the splash over and over and over and over and—

The blood on his face was still warm. It was an odd turn of thought, but a breeze kicked up and he felt the chill of it drying on his cheek. Your bloodied hands were an image he couldn’t get out of his head either. He remembered the faces of the men you’d killed - their surprise, their lifelessness. And with their faces came the same thought: He’d failed you. Hell, he could hardly get you to carry more than a pocket knife with you - you weren’t a killer. And yet, because of his failure, you had slaughtered those men in a fashion too similar to his own - all blood and guts and ribbons of unrecognizable flesh. Even now, as you guided him along the cobble path, down to the plaza, he could see the gutted body of another you’d killed and the bloody footsteps you left in your wake. For once, the sight of death and destruction made him nauseous.

He had imagined dying here. Another odd turn of thought as he followed you down the hill. He would have let it happen. The villagers could have finished their ritual and his body would waste away to nothing under the sandy soil. In Time, even his bones would rot away and feed its ever-churning, ever-ravenous appetite. Or perhaps he would have rested with your body, in the sea - torn apart and eaten by the Mermaids. All in all, dying to the sound of the rain after all these years? It would be an okay way to go. And if you were gone, he was fine with dying. There wasn’t much of a point in traveling without you. You’d changed so much in his life, and all for the better. He was happier now. He saw new beauty in the universe. And you, by the stars, you, were like some sort of…beacon for him. Someone that reminded him what it was like to enjoy life again. You centered him. Grounded him. Even something as simple as your shoes at the TARDIS door were enough to calm him. He couldn’t bear it if you were gone. Those little reminders of your absence – your shoes, your sweater in the library, your favorite book. They would remind him how he failed you; how he never told you he loved you. He couldn’t face it again without you.

He shook away those thoughts. He had something to live for right in front of him. You’d saved him and he had to return the favor. You had smiled when you first saw him - when he said your name. It was just a tiny thing, but it was there for a fraction of a second. That meant you were still alive in there. You had to be. He knew that if you were still alive, you were fighting tooth and nail against whatever was in your head. He knew you wouldn’t give up, so he wouldn’t give up. And goddamnit, he would not fail you again.

The sound of a creaking porch pulled the Master from his thoughts. He felt the villagers’ eyes watching. He saw quick movements in his peripheral - people hastily shutting window blinds and slamming front doors shut. He saw recognition in their eyes. They were practically broadcasting their fear. You must have come this way before.

He couldn’t help but wonder what the villagers thought of you. You weren’t a monster. You could never be a monster in the Master’s eyes. But all these people knew of you was what the Mermaid had wrought upon you. He was tempted by the thought of setting the place ablaze. It was the villagers’ fault that you ended up like this. Why not make them pay for what they’d done to you?

He knows why though. You would hate it. And then you’d give him that look that punches a hole through his hearts and he’d never be able to recover from that.

So he had to find another way to make it up to you.

But how?

He considered for a moment whether you might remember something about it. He hadn’t considered asking you until now. You hadn’t said anything to him since finding him in the church. He didn’t even know if you could talk. But anything was worth a shot right now. He’d take any idea or scrap of information he could get.

So he asked you, squeezing your hand like he usually did when he wanted your attention.

“Darling?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t acknowledge that he’d said anything. You didn’t squeeze his hand back like you usually did. You just kept walking. The villagers, in their homes, kept staring through their peep-hole curtains, following the two of you with haunted, fearful eyes.

“Love, can you tell me what happened to you? Do you remember anything?” The Master pleaded.

Nothing once again. Just the sound of the ocean and your dress dragging along the pathway. The Master was beginning to wonder how much of you was left, or if there was anything left of you at all.

He could feel the tiniest sting of rage bloom in his chest. It urged him to fight – to kick, scream, and claw at you until he figured out what was wrong. He wanted to rip the mermaid from your mind and salvage what was left of you.

But he never would. He could destroy civilizations, he’d burn this village to save you, but in the face of potentially hurting you, he deflated. Any thought of rage fizzled out and he was left with a heavy weighted sorrow lodged in his chest.

“Please darling.” As quiet as his voice was, there was no mistaking that the Master was pleading with you.

At some point, a few steps beyond the white cast-iron gate, the Master stopped asking questions. He’d wait to see where you were leading him. He couldn’t take your silence. The weight of your hand, still holding his, was heavy enough.

The tide was high, lapping hungrily at the sandy beach and the bitterly familiar cliff face on the shore. The rain had started to lighten up, but it still drizzled down onto the shore, still healing at your feet like a loyal dog. From where he was, just beyond the gate, stepping into the sand, the Master heard something from far off the shore. It drifted up into the air, harmonies building and mounting on one another as they glide across the breeze, right to the Master’s ears. The melody tempted him toward the water, bright, alluring, hypnotic.

And you were walking straight toward it, as if there was nothing in the world that could stop you.

The wind picked up, whipping your frilled fins and hair in every direction. The howling breeze grew stronger and stronger as the Mermaids’ song grew louder and louder. More harmonies, and a mounting dissonance clawing through the tone, and in a moment, the Master found the answer to all the questions he’d been asking.

“They bit you.” He stopped dead in his tracks and didn’t move when you continued to pull on him. His voice was quiet. Beneath it though, at the sight of the puncture wounds and the red trail of blood down the back of your dress, was the same heating anger from before, urging him to loose his rage upon the alien inside of you.

The Master quelled his bristling anger. This wasn’t the time. He had to focus on the problem at hand: you. You didn’t stop. You kept trying to pull him to the sea, uninterested in his observation or in stopping.

You stared at the ocean with glazed eyes, listening to the mermaids’ harmonies. You couldn’t tear your eyes away if you wanted to, as if there was something magnetic in the alluring tones. You started walking again, and this time, the Master followed until you’d nearly reached the lapping tide.

“That’s not the direction of the TARDIS, love.” The Master whispered, pulling on your wrist to keep you from stepping into the sea.

Something about that clicks and you turn to him, slowly and hesitantly. The Master sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face.

Nearly your entire face is blank and emotionless. Nearly. It's your eyes that are different. Your strange, alien eyes are brimming with tears. They’re wide and scared and lined with the trails of tears already shed. The Master could see you in those eyes. They weren’t the right color. They weren’t human. But within them, beyond their seafoam color and unnatural glow, he saw you. He saw fear, he saw fight, he saw the eyes of his companion, doing her best to fight for her life, even as she was trapped in her own mind.

You’re still alive.

The Master slowly approaches, testing the waters. He holds your face in one of his hands, the other coming to rest along your neck. When you don’t react, save for looking into his eyes with something deep and pleading, he lowers his head and touches his forehead to yours, releasing a deep, shuddering breath before letting his hands slide from your cheeks to your temples.

In your head, he hears you crying out for help – your pleading voice screaming out for him to hear you.

“--Please! Please Master! I can't stop it! It's gonna drag me into the ocean! It’s going to turn me into a mermaid! I don’t want to become one of them! I wanna go back home to the TARDIS! I wanna go back home with you!!! Please Master! Save me!”

The Master pulls away from you in shock - his hearts plummeting to the gritty sand. Had you been screaming in your head like this the whole time? Guilt shot through his hearts and if it weren’t for his desperate need to protect you, he might’ve died on the spot. He presses his forehead to yours once more, fingers to your temples, and in a matter of seconds your sleeping body drops into his arms. The Master clutches your limp body close to his to keep you from falling to the sand as endless waves of relief and guilt and heartbreak flush through him. He kisses your forehead and as soon as he stands with you, he’s off like a shot, sprinting to his TARDIS as fast as his legs will carry him. Never mind the Mermaids’ melody turning to ravenous screeching. Never mind the village’s hunting party gathering together to avenge their dead. Never mind the painful whip of tree branches as he ran to the bordering forest. The Master had to save you, and nothing in all the universe could stop him.

The first thing you notice is the weight of something cool in your hand. Cool and smooth. When your eyes crack open, the world is blurry and you can’t quite tell where you are. The room you’re in is warm. The ceiling is white.

And next to you is the Master, resting his head on your lap, his cool hand in yours. His usual purple jacket is thrown over his shoulders, barely hanging onto his back with how he’s lying now. He’s snoring softly, and he’s thrown an arm over your legs as if he’s protecting you. It’s odd to see him sleep. In all your time traveling with him, you’ve only ever known him to sleep when he absolutely had to, and never while you were traveling with him. Getting to see him look so peaceful is a treat - one you intend to savor.

You want to kiss him.

The thought comes out of nowhere, but you don’t deny it. It's been a tempting image for months now - the first thing on your mind for weeks. You’re not surprised that it pops into your head.

You shift, wincing at the soreness that weighs down your whole body. You notice that you’re no longer wearing your ruined linen dress. Instead, you are wearing your pajamas, and your personal pillow is supporting your head. Your head hurts a little and you hope that readjusting will help ease the pain.

It doesn’t. All it does is shift the Master and jostle him awake. He startles a little and sits up, but the moment he lays eyes on you he relaxes and smiles, “Ah. There are those beautiful eyes. Back to normal, as they should be. How are you feeling?”

You struggle a little to sit up, pulling the blanket up with you as a comfort. You don’t fail to notice that although you’re in the med bay, you aren’t lying under the scratchy blankets that usually covered the beds here. Instead, the Master had brought your favorite blanket and draped it over you. Your favorite book was lying on the table beside your bed too, next to a book about the planet you had visited. You smile when you notice the Master’s sweet gesture.

The moment sours a little though, when you try to think of why you were lying in the med bay. You shift a little, turning to look at the Master for answers.

“I’m feeling alright, but what happened? I remember standing on the beach screaming in my head, and the next thing I know, I’m here, in the TARDIS med bay. What happened to me? What happened to the Mermaid?”

The Master tenses, not sure how to explain in any casual way that he’d rushed you back to the TARDIS at inhuman speeds because he was afraid he was going to lose the only person in the universe he actually loved anymore. That was too much to explain right now, so he decided to stick with the facts. Taking his hand from yours, he started to wring his hands together, trying to figure out where to start.

“Well, after you saved me from the church, you uh—you blacked out on the beach and I brought you back to the TARDIS. The Mermaid was a more complicated affair. I had to reach inside your mind to get rid of it. It was a nasty fight, but it was well worth it. You’re you again, and you’re safe now.”

You nod once again, doing your best to connect what you remember to what the Master was telling you.

“How long did it take?”

“Hmm?”

“Getting rid of the Mermaid? How long did it take? It feels like I slept for years.”

The Master hesitates again. There was more weight behind that question than you could ever imagine. Of course, he would never mention how hard of a fight it had really been. He’d never tell you how he had gone blind with rage, burning the mermaid until its crisp ashes faded away from your neurons. He’d never tell you how delicate he’d had to be, or how fragile your mind was afterward. And he would certainly never tell you how scared he really was when he saw the extent of the mermaid’s attachment. He didn’t care how long it had taken, not noticing or caring about the hours he’d spent burning the Mermaid from your mind. He was determined to keep going until the Mermaid was gone, his own exhaustion be damned.

He also couldn’t begin to explain the fervency with which he’d tried to remind you of yourself. He brought in your blanket and pillow and read your favorite book to you – the whole thing, even the annotations and drawings you’d left in the margins. He spent hours telling you stories of your travels - the ones that hadn’t gone terribly wrong of course. He had done everything in his power to make sure you survived. He’d even sat beside your bed and outright begged you to remember who you were when you woke up. But he’d never be able to tell you that.

And yet, when you reach out and run your thumb under his eyes, no doubt soothing the heavy bags that were bound to be there, he had a feeling that somehow you knew. He didn’t have to say anything, and he could admit that right now he didn’t really want to. He just wanted to sit in this moment and bask in the warmth radiating from your hand and the comfort it brought to have you touch him.

After a moment though, the Master startles away from your touch. He had leaned too far into it, starting to lose himself in the feel of your hand on his face, and he very well might have kissed you if he hadn’t stopped himself. He stood quickly and stepped away to pace around the med bay.

You were startled by his reaction, but nevertheless brought your hand back to your side and changed the subject. “Thank you for bringing my book and blanket. They make it more bearable in here. Do I need to stay in the med bay or am I good to leave?”

“No, you’re clear to leave, but you’re welcome to stay here until you feel comfortable getting up. The Mermaid was a force inside your head. And quite a powerful one at that. You might be dizzy for a little while, but that’s all. Any physical effects - your scales, fins, etc – dissolved while I was taking the Mermaid apart. It didn’t leave anything physical except for the bite wound, but I was able to heal that up. Your book and your blanket were meant to help kick you back into gear - remind you who you are and all that.”

A small smile crosses your face and your eyes light up a bit. “Does that mean you read to me while I was passed out?”

The Master gave you a look. “Shut up.”

Your smile shifts - far more mischievous now than before. “Never.”

There you are. Back to teasing him and being a general pain in his ass. An endearing pain in his ass, but a pain in his ass nonetheless.

The Master leaned against the counter opposite you, feeling a little bit better after seeing you return, for the most part, to your normal self.

“I will admit, seeing you let go, letting the rage inside you loose, getting to see you rip your enemies apart - that was something beautiful. Something awe-inspiring, really. I’ve seen stars collapse with less fury than was in your eyes. Truly inspiring.” The Master lied, hoping you wouldn’t notice, hoping he sounded like his normal self and not like he’d been horrified, worried beyond belief, and physically exhausted for hours on end. If you were back to normal, teasing and laughing at him, then he could play normal too.

But of course that backfired, and it seemed you believed his lie a little too well. Your face fell, and then your brow quirked up.

“Then why did you change me back?”

His reply is instant.

“Because you asked me to. I would do anything you asked me to do.”

The Master pauses - it only takes a second to realize what he had said. Your wide eyes suggest you are doing the same. He hadn’t thought before he spoke and the words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. For a moment, the Master had let his hearts do the talking for him.

He takes a deep breath.

“I would have changed you back regardless. That thing - the Mermaid that was possessing you - wasn’t you. I’d rather travel with you and all your boring human morals than watch some alien walk off to destroy worlds with your body. I never would have let that thing take you. Really I should go back and kill the lot of them. Every last one of those things should die a slow, painful, death, drying out in the dead grass above them for what they did to you.” He was offended that you’d so much as considered him leaving you to the Mermaid’s whims.

You just look at him for a moment before uttering a quiet “Thank you.”

The Master nods, a sincere look glinting in his eye before he lets the matter rest. There is silence for a moment. A heavy silence. You play with a loose thread on the blanket’s stitching, and the Master watches you. Despite answering your questions, the Master felt like there was still something left unsaid. The room is still tense and you seem lost in thought.

There’s something you have been avoiding, he could tell. Something is lingering in your mind and he figures he knows what it is. The Master steps towards you, stopping beside your bed. You still don’t look up at him. He sits in his chair and takes your hands in his.

“Darling, how much do you remember?” The Master asks, taking a tentative step to understanding your experience in all this.

You hesitate before answering and find yourself unable to meet the Master’s eyes.

“All of it.” You pause, swallowing nervously. “I killed people.”

The Master hears the guilt heavy in your voice and completely abandons his chair, shifting to sit next to you on your bed, squeezing your hands tighter than before.

“No, No. Remember Love, that wasn’t you. The Mermaid was using you. Feeding on any little emotion that would give it an excuse to kill. It took your wants, your anger, and twisted it for its own. It was hungry and it used your body to hunt.”

You’re quiet, stewing in guilt for another short moment. You gnaw on the inside of your lip and stare at the Master’s hand holding yours.

“I remember wanting them gone - the villagers and the guards.” Your voice cuts through the silence, something heavy weighing in your tone.

The Master’s eyes bore into you, “Why?”

You finally look up and let your eyes meet his.

“They were blocking the path to you.”

A beat passed. Time slowed, or maybe it stopped altogether. The Master’s eyes lock with yours and you’re not sure what you see swirling in them.

And then before you know it, he’s kissing you. Full body, hands cradling your face, pressing as much of himself against you as he can kissing you. His lips almost bruise yours, you can’t kiss back for a few seconds he comes on so hard —

— but he pulls away for a second, breathes heavily, and stares at you. There’s a millisecond between you – only the sound of your heaving breaths in the air. You look at him and give a small nod and he dives for you, leaning over the bed, ramming your back into the sheets, all but climbing on top of you. You kiss him with the same fervor as he had before, hands slipping to his back to pull him even closer until you can feel his body against every part of yours. His hands pull at your waist and rake up your sides and he shivers when you moan against his lips. His whole body can feel it rumbling, his mind can feel it, it’s stronger than the drums and he’s addicted. He needs to feel it again.

His kisses slip from your lips down your cheek to the column of your neck. They’re sloppy and desperate, penning his ages of yearning along your skin. The hitches in your breath are like prayers to an old god and he’s reveling in the worship. Your hands in his hair fire pleasure down his spine and it curls hot in his stomach. He grows more and more desperate, more and more ravenous as he kisses you faster and faster, making his way back to your lips like a man starved. He cradles your head in his hands and pulls away with a low growl.

“Darling.“ He pants hard, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He feels you catch your breath, the thump of your one heartbeat echoing in his ear again. Your breathing becomes smooth, steady, and it soothes something within the Master.

You start to leave little kisses in his hair and a couple on the shell of his ear and he feels like melting right into your lap. You’re so soft with him in this moment. He nuzzles into your neck and wraps his hands around your waist. The Master stays there for a minute, content to let you press soft kisses to his hair and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

Eventually, though, he has an idea. You know he does because his head whips up fast and he looks you dead in the eye. There’s something soft in his eyes though, and his gaze warms as it settles on you. He brings his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and gently nuzzling his nose against yours, “Let me in?”

It’s a question, not a demand, whispered to the vulnerable space between you.

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately. The Mermaid was in your head, and then I dug around in your mind for hours. It's okay if you don’t want to let me in.” His voice is the gentlest whisper, and he leaves the gentlest kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You don’t answer with words, but he can feel you opening your mind. He’s flooded with a wall of hot, heady lust at first, but it ebbs into something gentle and soft and so, so warm. He felt safe - your safety, and your confidence in him to keep you safe. He feels the way your heart tugs you toward him at every moment, and there’s a heavy, weighty, yearning want that curls around him and settles in his hearts. The wave of it crashes over him and he has to pull away for a second, the force of it overwhelming his senses. He leans his head on your shoulder once more, biting the skin there to keep from whimpering. Even then, he still lets a quiet whine slip through his teeth as he shudders against you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, leaning down to look him in the eye. You can’t remember another time you’ve seen the Master like this. He looks at you, transfixed in your eyes for a moment before responding.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s…it’s just…,” He pauses, looking off to the side like something long past is lingering in the corner of his eye. After a moment, he meets your eyes again and his voice shudders a small bit, “I-I can’t remember the last time someone wanted me like this.”

You give him the kind of look that would normally annoy him. There’s something pitiful and sympathetic in your bright eyes, and he can feel your oncoming heartache. Heartache for him. For the years he spent alone. For every moment he spent trying to show someone he was worth the effort. That look was one he would generally turn away from, but in this moment with you, he didn’t say anything. He just fell further into your arms and pressed his forehead to yours again, yearning to feel your mind wash over him again.

“Oh, Master.” You whisper in the crack of space between you before cradling his face and bringing your lips to his again.

Your kiss is warm and comforting, encompassing the Master in a feeling that’s entirely you. He felt your warmth and the absence of it between kisses, and realized he never wanted to be without it. It drew him in, roped and tied his soul to yours, and he never wanted to be free of it. He clung to you. His kisses grew frenzied, frantic as his hands grappled at every curve of your body, trying to pull you closer, closer, closer to him. You couldn’t be close enough, he could never pull you close enough.

Your mind tingled on the edge of his, sending shivers through him. For a second he’d forgotten you had let him in, and now you were pushing yourself against him in the most intimate of ways.

He could hardly describe the soft way your mind flooded into his own, caressing every corner, passing every locked door, loving every winding turn–

Loving?

You loved him?

He could feel it in your mind – that strong, gentle pull. He could feel it when you embraced the parts of his mind he bared to you, and when you passed by the things he hid without a word. He could feel it in the way your hands held him, the way they drifted over his body and touched him with reverence. He could feel it in the little moans you made when he kissed you, like a dam of yearning, of pining, being released between the two of you. It sent jolts of electricity down his body and straight between his legs.

It was all too much for him.

“I love you.” The Master all but sobs into your ear, “I love you. I love you. I love you. By the stars, Darling, I love you.”

“I love you too, Master – love you so much.” You whimper into his neck, biting down on the skin there to ground yourself.

The Master groans, climbing on top of you, pinning your body further to the bed. He kicks his shoes to the floor and pushes your blanket aside so that no part of you is hidden from him. He presses his body against you and you can’t help but moan when you feel his hard cock pressing against your hips, lightly grinding, begging for some sort of friction between you.

“Darling, you have no idea what that does to me.” The Master’s voice is ragged, his breathing heavy as he drags his cock against your hips rougher than he had before, “You can’t just bite a man like that.”

“What if I want to find out what it does to you?”

The Master pauses all movement for a moment and meets your heavy, half-lidded eyes. He feels his whole body warm at your implication, the temptation in your eyes pulling him closer and closer to you.

“You're sure you want that love?” He whispers against your lips.

You nod enthusiastically, wrapping your arms around the Master’s neck to pull him closer to you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Master.”

He shudders at the way you say his name, then nods, pulling himself off of you before helping you sit up.

“C’mere,” The Master picks you up off the medbay bed and wraps your legs around his waist, “Let’s take this somewhere more appropriate.”

The Master had every intent of taking you straight to his bed and ravishing you on the deep purple sheets, but as he passed through the console room, he saw the briefest image flicker up from your mind. It was a positively wicked idea, and he loved it. He felt the wave of lust that bloomed through you as the image appeared and, with a grin, he changed directions.

“Master? Aren’t we going to your room? What are you doing?” You ask, pulling away from his lips as he sets you on the center console.

“What you want.”

He leans close, kissing you again before pressing his hips to yours. His hands wander as they please and it’s only after a few moments that you feel the Master softly grinding against you. You pull away from his lips with a small gasp.

“H-How did you–”

“I can see it in your head dear. I could feel how much you wanted it.” The Master smiled, shifting you so you’re comfy on the console. “Why not treat you? Who am I to deny you?”

And there he was. The Master. Your cocky, confident, tease of a traveling companion. He smirked at you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. His breath fans across your skin, and he’s delighted by the little shiver that shudders through you.

“Do you like that love? Hm? Feeling me? Feeling what you do to me – what you’ve done to me for months aboard this ship?” He kisses you again, groaning against your lips with every new kiss. He grinds his hips against yours and you revel in the feeling of his cock, heavy between your legs. “Do you have any idea how many fucking times I had to fuck my hand and pretend it was you? You lean over the console and I can’t think! You hug me and there’s this stupid warmth that blooms from my gut to my hearts and I just want to kiss your face—Fuck, I can feel how much you want me…Is this why you haven’t let me in before? Afraid I’d see all these secrets you’ve been keeping from me?”

The Master’s questions didn’t even process. You were too lost in the feeling of his body against you, the way he grinds himself against your cunt, the way he makes you melt into the console, letting yourself feel the waves of arousal from both your minds wash over you - tingling every one of your nerves until all you felt was sweet, sweet pleasure coursing over every part of you.

Until that pleasure stops, and you feel the Master’s cool breath against your ear.

“I need an answer dear.”

Your eyes widen and you pull back to look at him, surprise written clear on your face. He’s got a stupid, smug look on his face and you hate how much it turns you on.

You keep staring for a second. You can’t make yourself speak, so caught off guard by the loss of sensation and the frustration that follows that words are impossible. So instead, you claw at the Master’s shoulder and tug him back against you, locking him in place with your legs around his hips. He lets out a surprised sound, catching himself on the console.

You all but growl, fisting a handful of the Master’s hair to pull him up to look at you. You delight in the moan that tumbles from his lips and pull him close to you so you can growl in his ear.

“I want you. Now.” You demand. You tighten your legs around him and start to grind yourself against him on your own, his plans be damned.

The Master breathes hard - a laugh breaking through as he catches his breath. Tipping your chin up with a finger, he looks at you with such hunger, “Oh Love, I didn’t think I could be any more attracted to you, but look at what you’ve done to me…how can one person be so, damn, enticing?”

Each word came with short, heavy thrusts against your sex. The Master was starting to breathe heavier and heavier, and with every drag against your clothes, he felt himself melting further against you. He felt heavy with the way he yearned for you; the warmth between your legs lured him closer and closer to you until nearly all of his body was pressed against yours. Every movement, every thrust, every touch of your skin against his sent sweet pleasure tumbling through his body, begging for more, more, more. And he lost himself in you. Nothing mattered in this moment besides the bliss that bloomed through him every time he dragged himself against you. His body sang for you, and you sang back in sweet, dulcet whimpers against his neck, your fingers digging into his sides, pulling him ever-closer until he was barely standing anymore.

It’s not long before his weight is leaned on you almost entirely. His eyes close, his head falls to your shoulder, and the Master moans- a deep, yearning thing – before whimpering into your ear, “You’re so warm, Love. So so warm.”

You can’t even think about replying. The cool touch of his lips against your neck, and the warm, fuzzy pleasure between your legs leaves you feeling brainless. And with every wave of arousal through your mind, the Master lets out moans and whines that grow more and more pitiful as he continues to grind against you. His noises are irresistible. Your body is all but limp against the console and the only thing that grounds you to the world is the feeling of the Master’s hair in your hands.

Your mind is intoxicating. The Master can’t tell where he ends and you begin anymore. Everything is so blurred and connected and warm and soft. You are soft, and he wants to stay here forever, melting into your body, feeling your kisses against his neck, until the only feeling he knows anymore is you.

It’s not enough though. He can feel you yearning for more even if you aren’t saying it. He feels the sharp want for more on the edges of your mind and the Master growls. It isn’t enough.

You gasp when the pleasure stops again, whining as you feel the Master’s hair slip from your grasp. You’re going to protest until you hear a thump on the floor and a blinding, beautiful, tingling sensation races from your clit to the tips of your limbs.

The Master drops to his knees, knocking himself against your own knees as he scrambles to shove himself between your legs. He nuzzles his nose against your cunt, and drags his tongue flat against the fabric of your sleep shorts, digging his nails into the skin of your thighs. The feeling of his wet tongue through the fabric is like heaven. Finally getting direct attention to your clit after all this build-up is like breaking a dam inside of you and you’re greedy, keening, back arching off the console to press your weeping cunt harder against his face.

The Master groans, clawing at your sleep shorts as he continues laving his tongue over them. He’s starving for you and anything he can get he’ll take with greedy abandon. He’s waited so long; he needs to worship you, needs to taste you, needs to please you, and his impatience is getting the better of him.

He leaves your pussy for only a moment to rip your shorts from your body, dragging your underwear away with them and throwing them somewhere behind him.

His first thought was to dive right back into your waiting, weeping pussy, but he had just enough clarity left to wait and play with you.

He instead takes hold of your calf, gingerly lifting your leg so he could place a kiss on your knee. Then another. Then he licked a stripe up the side of your thigh, delighting in the surprised gasp that flew from your lips.

He did it again and again, dragging his tongue up and down your thigh until the skin was wet and you were squirming above him.

Your hand in his hair pulls him from his worship, distracting him with your half-lidded, pleading eyes.

“Please Master.” You whine, tightening your grip on his hair.

“Please what, dear?” He responds with a renewed air of mischief in his voice.

You couldn’t answer, unable to find words for what you want. You whine at him, hoping he would get the idea. Instead, he gives you a devilish smile and a downright cruel look in his eye.

“I’m not sure what that means darling.”

Before you can reply the Master leans down to your other knee, giving it the same attention he had given your first thigh, dragging his face up and up, leaving kisses and licking stripes until the skin was slick and wet.

You whine again, keening, in hopes that the Master will have mercy on you and give you what you want. You know he knows and it’s frustrating you to no end that he won’t just give in and give it to you.

Instead, the Master laughs and bites down on the meat of your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth in the soft flesh. Your sharp yelp sends a shockwave of pleasure through his body right down to his aching cock.

“I need you to use words, love. I don’t know what you want unless you use your words.” He rasped against the skin of your thigh.

You groaned, “Touch me.”

“What? Like this?” The Master brought his hand up to your sopping pussy and ran his fingers through your folds, dragging them ever so slowly from your hole to your clit.

You shook your head, meeting his eyes with something desperate and feral.

The Master, however, remains infuriatingly calm, toying with you with such ease it makes you want to slap that cruel smile right off his face.

“What is it you want dear?”

You huffed, frustration fuming from your lips.

“Your mouth. Use your mouth.” You beg, finally voicing your desire to the Master.

He grins, dragging his hand away from your pussy, turning to soothe his bite mark with his tongue.

“See, wasn’t that easy love?”

The Master places a delicate kiss on your clit before ravaging your pussy, licking and lapping like he had been when your shorts were still on.

You gasp, heaving in a breath as the Master drags his wet tongue through your folds. You’re so sensitive after all his teasing that you tremble at even the lightest touch. The feeling of his cool tongue between your thighs is overwhelming, drawing coils in your guts and dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

The cherry on top of it all comes when you look down through hazy half-lidded eyes. The Master’s eyes are closed, his hands grasping the meat of your thighs like they’re a lifeline. He’s razor-focused on memorizing the taste of you. You can feel his focus in your mind, and the slow way it melts into nothing but sweet pleasure. The feeling bleeds between your minds and for a moment it feels like a hazy high - your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your head falling back against the console as the Master fucks you with his tongue. Moans tumble from your mouth as he builds a steady rhythm, and you can feel the Master preening from your praising noises.

But then you hear the Master whine into your pussy and a new, stronger wave of pleasure overtakes you. It washes through you over and over again; pleasure mounting on pleasure until the feeling is nearly unbearable.

You crack your eyes open to take a peek and what you see sends a hot flood of arousal through you.

The Master had slipped one of his hands between his legs and was now furiously grinding his weeping cock against the heel of his palm. He all but melts into his own hand, his moans rumbling through you, his tongue pushing further into you than ever before. Through the connection you could feel his own pleasure growing - the same coiling heat in his body that you felt in yours.

“Master.” You call out breathlessly.

The Master kept lapping at you. Your arousal flickers through the connection, flooding his mind in a tidal wave and he can’t stop himself. He needs more.

“Master, dear.” You call again.

The Master’s moans slip into whines, his hips roll hard into his hand. His whole body is tensing, wrapped and tied in the bliss he feels from the both of you. It builds and builds until he’s right there on the edge, his body begging for sweet release. Just a few more strokes and—

“Master.”

Your voice cuts through his haze and it takes every ounce of self-control the Master has ever had to stop.

“Yes love?” His answer is a ragged moan, betraying his displeasure as he pulls away from your pussy. His face is sopping wet and his eyes are heavy-lidded.

You smile at the sight of him and his fucked-out eyes.

“Are you gonna make it to the bed dear?” You whisper in his ear, a husky, sultry rasp edging the low tones of your voice.

The Master breathes heavily and considers your question for a moment.

“Fuck.”

He stands and yanks you up off the console, onto his hips and rushes down the hall, carrying you through the twisting, winding halls to his bedroom.

The Master’s room was elusive. In all your time on the TARDIS, you’d found a library, a swimming pool, a billiards hall, an observatory, and countless other unique rooms, but you’d never stumbled upon the Master’s room. Naturally, you were curious, and to tell the truth, you’d gone looking for the room a few times before, but by now you figured that the room was hidden in some deep, far-away corner of the TARDIS, never to be found by simple exploration.

Which is why it came as such a surprise to you how fast the Master found his room and threw open the door. Not even a minute after hoisting you onto his hips, the Master dashes into his room, closes the door, and slams you against it. You barely get a second to see the room over his shoulder before his lips are on yours, kissing you with new fervor.

“You’ve got me weak in the knees darling. I can barely stand.” The Master mumbles against your throat as he plots fevered kisses down your neck.

“Maybe we should move to the bed then, dear. Get you off your feet.” You gasp out through a moan.

“Mmmmm I like that idea.”

Without giving you time to think, the Master pulls you off the door and throws you onto his bed. Literally throws you. The little ‘oof’ you let out as you land makes him laugh a little.

But in the space of a second, in the movement, you were no longer in the warm, safe confines of the Master’s oversized bed. Instead, you were landing in the ocean. Your back stings. Pain shoots through you to every nerve end and in an instant, you’re shivering. Freezing. You don’t dare move until you see movement in the corner of your eye. It takes a moment for your vision to focus, but once it does you see the Master hovering over you, calling your name. His hands hold your face, delicate and centering. The purple drapes above his bed remind you of where you are, and you’re finally able to take a deep breath.

You shake your head and come back to reality, putting on a smile to brush off the whole episode. “Sorry, I just…landing on my back–it reminded me of landing in the ocean and the Mermaid, and I just…”

The Master can feel the fear rushing through you as your sentence fades off. It’s bolting behind your eyes even if you say you’re okay. Without a second thought, the Master pulls you to his chest and cradles you in his arms. His breathing is a bit heavier, and his arms are tight around you. When he speaks, it’s a whisper in the shell of your ear - something fervent and sincere.

“Never again. Never again, love. I promise I’ll keep you safe. You’ll never have to feel that scared again.”

You nod into his shoulder, letting yourself curl into him for a moment. The comfort of his arms does wonders to ground you and bring you fully back into the present. As he holds you, he nuzzles his nose against your neck and softly kneads your body’s curves. He breathes against your skin for a moment, enjoying the feel of you in his arms.

After a moment, he pulls back to look at you.

“We can stop for tonight if you want. We can rest. I’ll watch over you while you sleep.”

“No. I want this. I want you.” You insist, fiddling with a corner of his shirt collar. “I just needed a second. Please keep kissing me.”

He nods with a warm smile. “As you wish, love.”

As the Master kisses you, your hands wander from the back of his neck down to the buttons of his clean shirt. You fiddle with a button and eventually get it undone, letting your fingers slip just under his shirt to feel his cool skin. You’re rewarded with a stunted breath and the Master’s hands gripping your body tighter against him.

You slowly work at the buttons until his shirt is completely undone, hanging off his shoulders, framing his chest in a way that tempts your hands to roam across the new expanse of skin. But as your hands wander, you pause, pulling away from the Master with furrowed brows.

“You had a cut on your chest. I remember, in the church; I could feel the blood on your shirt. I saw the cut.”

The Master takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest right over the place he had been cut.

“It’s okay love. I used the same medicine to heal this wound that I used to heal your bite. Fixed me right up. I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod, taking a minute to admire the Master’s chest while you have the chance. And damn, the medicine worked. There wasn’t any trace of the cut. No scars, no lumps, no faint line to trace. Just his smooth skin, glowing under the room’s warm lamplight. Instead, you trace the lines of his muscles, from his pecs up to his collarbones, over to his shoulders to push his shirt off his back.

“Like what you see there, love?” The Master coos, shrugging his shirt the rest of the way off.

“Mmhm.” You hum, leaning forward to kiss along the Master’s collarbone, “I’m excited to see the rest.”

The Master doesn’t get the chance to respond. Try as he might, the light laugh in his throat dies when he feels your fingers slip beneath the waistline of his pants.

“Can I see the rest?” You ask in the small space between you.

The Master swallows hard. For once he’s at a loss for words. He’s too preoccupied by the tingling sensation left in your fingers’ wake to speak. He nods and suppresses a shudder.

His eyes close as you continue to kiss his collarbones. He basks in the feeling of your soft lips peppering kisses from his shoulder up to his neck, and he startles a little when he feels your warm, wet tongue lick a stripe up his neck. You seem to pay no mind, contentedly kissing him and licking him.

He tracks the movement of your hand, lazy though it is, as you slip further into his pants. Curiosity teeters in your mind as you wonder just how far you can go and, as you place a kiss just under the curve of the Master’s jaw, your hand slips below his pants to cup his cock through his boxers. The Master lights up with pleasure, and the noise he lets out as you grind the heel of your palm against his cock is decadent. You look up at him for a moment, admiring the way his face scrunches up as if he’s overwhelmed by the feeling. You watch him for a moment, appreciating how beautiful he looks before a sinister idea pops into your head.

The Master feels you shift, turning yourself and him so you can lay him down against the countless pillows at the head of his bed with nothing but a gentle push to his chest. You pull your hand from his bulge and begin to wrestle with his boxers’ elastic waistband. His body jolts when a rush of cool air meets his skin, and his body tingles as you pull his cock from his boxers. It springs free and all that aching pressure from before releases like a deep breath. The cool air in his room is a nice wake up call, but what really gets him going is the look in your eye as your gaze settles on him.

“Darling, what are you—“

“—You’re so pretty…” you trail off in hypnotic admiration, dipping your head to kiss the soft tip of his cock, giving him a little suckle.

The Master keens. He outright whines and fists his sheets in his hands as you continue to kiss and suck at his tip. Feeling adventurous, you take his head into your mouth, dragging your tongue slowly over his slit.

And this is the day you learn that the Master, at least this version, can’t keep quiet when your mouth is on him. The moment your tongue traces his slit he moans, and he moans loud. He’s a mess of whines and whimpers and delectable throaty noises. You’ve completely disassembled him and left only the malleable, vulnerable parts of him on this bed. All with a couple licks of your tongue.

But there’s something at the edge of the Master’s mind that keeps him from falling into the dreamlike haze he’s so close to. Something that’s been on the edge of his mind since he threw you on the bed. Something that’s eating away at him from the inside out.

You almost died.

There’s a slight tremor in your arms as you’re holding yourself above him. You’re exerting more effort to do so than you should, and in that instant, any trace of a haze snaps away and the Master resolves to himself that he’s going to take care of you tonight. After everything you’ve been through, it’s the least you deserve.

The Master reaches a hand down to your shoulder, gently squeezing to grab your attention. You pull off his cock with a questioning look.

“Darling, as much as I love feeling your lips around me, you need rest, and I can’t wait to fuck you. Save that for another night. Come up here and kiss me.”

You have half a mind to protest and insist that you’re fine, but your muscles are aching and you know your body is tired even if your mind is racing, so you place one final kiss on the Master’s cock before crawling up his body.

When you’re level with the Master you nuzzle your nose against his.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hi.” He smiles back.

You let out a chuckle and dip your head down to kiss him. Your free hand tangles itself in his hair and his hands roam your back and sides. He takes a mental note of the spot you flinched at - seems he’s found a ticklish spot. Could be useful in the future.

You, on the other hand, are fighting the urge to jolt away from the Master’s ticklish touch while trying to admire the man - the alien - beneath you. You still can’t believe that you’re here, in bed with an impossible man who just so happened to tolerate you out of everyone on earth. After so many months of yearning, you’re here. Spiced honey and the smell of cloves drift up to your nose and you feel the Master breathing beneath you. It’s almost too much for you to take, so you lean forward and slam your lips to his.

He makes a surprised noise but quickly falls into the kiss, letting your flood of emotion rush through your connection. He moans as the feeling wades through his mind and sends aching want through every muscle in his body.

The feeling deepens when you drag your tongue along his bottom lip and nip a little at the wet skin. He keens and opens his mouth, reaching out to meet yours. You gasp the moment your tongues meet and for what feels like ages, it’s a dance of your tongues licking into each other's mouths - kissing and sucking and little bites on one another’s lips, all the while your calming weight rests on the Master’s hips and his hands rest on your sides and the both of you are lost in the feel of one another as it flows through your mental connection.

You’re the one to break off first. You take deep, heaving breaths and you close your eyes for a moment, just trying to focus on getting air back in your lungs. When you open your eyes, you see the Master watching you. He looks at you like you’re the last star left burning in the universe.

And for another moment you sit like that. You catch your breath and the Master plays with the hem of your sleepshirt.

“Love?”

“Hmm?” You recognize the gleam of an idea in his eye.

“Let's get this shirt off of you.”

You nod with a smile, holding your arms up so the Master could drag your shirt over your head and off your arms. He throws it to the side and helps you out of your bra, adding that to the pile of clothes at the end of the bed.

When you’re finally undressed, the Master lets his hand rest on your hip and rubs his thumb in soothing circles. He takes in your naked body and admires the sight before him. He drinks in the sight of your skin in the warm light and the way the gold reflects in the color of your eyes.

“You’re beautiful love.”

You feel your cheeks warm and there’s something about the way the Master looks at you that floods molten heat between your legs.

You lean back down to kiss him - feel his cock twitch against your ass when your lips meet and you let that molten heat between your legs do the thinking for you.

You start to grind your hips against him, slowly inching back until you’re grinding against his cock.

You start to get lost in the feeling, letting go of your inhibitions to focus solely on your pleasure and the Master’s, but just as you’re starting to fall into a haze, the Master’s voice reels you back to reality.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

“What?” You’re genuinely confused - completely clueless at the edge of your haze.

But soon you’re letting out a surprised yelp as the Master rolls, flipping you under him with a joyful laugh. The sound of your laugh rings through the room soon after, and the Master swears he’s never heard anything so beautiful.

“I guess I should have seen that coming.” You say, adjusting to be a little more comfortable under the Master.

“Probably, but you’ve had a long day, so I’ll let it slide.”

You both chuckle a little and the Master leans back down to kiss you. He’s sweet and soft and there’s no place in the universe more comfortable than this.

As the Master kisses you, he sneaks a hand down his body and starts to work his pants down his legs, taking his boxers with them as he goes.

“Won’t be needing these now will I?”

“Certainly not.” You reply with a light laugh.

His pants and underwear end up in the pile at the end of the bed, and when he climbs back up to you, he’s caught off guard by the look you’re giving him. It’s warm and happy. You’re admiring him.

The Master hovers over you and watches as your eyes and hand trail over his chest and abdomen, “You look so pretty,” you whisper up to him, “Where have you been hiding all this, hmm?”

There’s a sharp inhale and the Master feels something deep within him ache. Something good. Something long neglected. And like letting go of the deepest breath, his next words flowed from him.

“Oh darling, I love you.”

The Master presses his body against yours as he comes down for a searing kiss, nearly losing himself in the comfort of feeling his skin on yours; in the ambient heat that radiates from you. It doesn’t last long though, as the Master quickly refocuses on his goal - nay, his job - this evening: making you cum. He pulls away from you, running his nails along your scalp and delighting in the happy noise you make.

“It’s about time you got your reward huh, love?” The Master prompts.

“My reward?” .

“Mhm.” His nails continue to rake across your scalp.

“What for?”

“Oh you know,” he starts, feigning nonchalance. “surviving a freezing cold ocean and an alien possession, saving my life, being the most beautiful woman in the universe. Seems deserving of a reward to me, don’t you think?”

You look surprised for a moment, but eventually agree, a bashful warmth heating your cheeks as hot arousal floods your pussy again. “I’d like that.”

“A reward it is then.” The Master smiles.

He wastes no time shuffling down the bed until he’s between your legs. He lets his hands glide over the tops of your thighs before gently coaxing your legs further apart. He settles there and admires your pussy, running his thumb along your inner thigh, just off to the side of where you really want it. You’re not entirely certain, but you think you hear a breathy “beautiful” slip under the Master’s breath.

“Do you want me to touch you love?” The Master teases, letting the edge of his nail ghost along your folds.

He delights in your shiver and the eager, “yes” that barely makes it past your lips. He considers teasing you further, but what kind of reward would that be? You’ve worked hard enough for it as is.

“As you wish, darling.”

The Master delves a finger between your folds, feeling the leaking pool of arousal that’s been flooding your pussy since he sat you down on the console. His cock throbs as he smears your arousal all over your cunt.

He’s a little greedy. He can’t help himself. He gathers some of your arousal on the tips of his fingers and brings them to his mouth, tasting you once again. Your taste sends a jolt right through his cock and he moans loud around his fingers.

“Mm, I’ve missed that taste.” The Master groans, “So tempting. So sweet.”

Your own moan brings the Master back to you and your hips as they start to cant against the empty air.

“Oh I’m sorry love, got a little lost there. I’ll give you what you want.”

The Master runs his fingers through your folds and your body lights up, every nerve crying, begging for more as he teases the edge of your hole.

His fingers run up the length of your pussy until he finds that sweet, beautiful bundle of nerves that makes you cry out for him. He rubs circles on your clit, adjusting his technique until he finds the perfect rhythm to make you whimper and buck up against his fingers. His hand sends sparks through your body - quick laps of pleasure along your skin so good they almost sting. His other hand is running up and down your thigh, slow enough so his fingernails leave tingling trails in their wake that make you writhe. Your hands grapple at the Master’s sheets, needing something to ground you in the moment.

“Master, please—“ you beg as his fingers continue to work your clit.

“Yes love?” He waits for your response with a knowing smile.

“Fuck me.” you gasp out, “I don’t wanna wait any longer. I want you.”

The Master huffs a laugh and gives you a warm look, “As you wish, love.”

He pulls your legs up and wrestles a soft pillow under your butt, making sure you’re good and comfy before settling between your legs. He takes a moment to drag himself between your folds and listen to your needy moans as his tip rubs against your clit. He doesn’t play around too long though. He’s determined to give you everything you want tonight, so he notches his cock at your entrance and slowly starts to work himself into your weeping hole.

“By the stars love, you’re so tight - hugging me so tight I can barely move.” The Master groans as he starts to gently thrust into you.“Look at the way you gush over me. You’re getting me all wet darling.”

You can only whimper in response, too distracted by the stretch of his cock and the wonderfully full feeling to form proper words. That’s not a problem for the Master though. He can feel it all flowing freely through your mind to his and it washes over him like a shower of compliments.

He practically preens, feeling your pleasure and satisfaction wave over him like high tide - licking at every nerve, every exposed inch of skin until he feels hot. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you. Your hands are clutching the bedsheets for dear life as you writhe under the Master’s body. You hear a groan from him and something else unintelligible before he pounces on you.

“Stars, you’re so fucking hot.” The Master growls.

He leaps forward, slamming his lips to yours in a searing kiss as he begins to thrust his cock into your needy pussy. You moan against his lips and press your body against his - one of your hands tangles in his hair and tugs. He thrusts at a brutal pace, toying with that sensitive spot inside you.

The Master breaks away from the kiss to trail countless wet, sloppy kisses down your throat. His tongue laps at your skin, leaving cool, wet trails in his wake. He works his way down to your breasts, punctuating every kiss with a thrust of his cock.

He gives an experimental lick to one of your nipples and the breathless moan he gets from you is enough to quell his curiosity. He takes your nipple in his mouth and runs his tongue over it, paying close attention to the way your body shivers in response.

He cradles your other breast in his hand and toys with your other nipple - tracing around it with his nail until you whine - a breathy “please” falling from your lips. He rewards you with a pinch and works your two nipples until you’re writhing beneath him, thrusting your hips up to meet his own.

The air shifts a little. You can feel something heavier and weightier starting to bleed through the Master’s mind into yours. You can’t place a name on the emotion, but you think it has to do with the Mermaid and everything that happened before you woke up in the TARDIS med bay.

The Master pulls away from your breast to rest his chin on your chest. His hips slow. He holds one of your hands in his.

“Look at me love. Let me see your beautiful eyes.” He smiles when you look at him with bright, gleaming eyes. His voice is adoring when he speaks to you: “That was the Mermaid’s worst crime: changing your eyes. Changing you.”

The Master starts to lay reverent kisses on your chest as he slowly grinds into you, letting your pleasure build subtle and slow.

“Look at you. So strong. So beautiful.” The Master murmurs, “You deserve this love. You’ve done so good today.”

He seems like he can’t stop. All his emotions from earlier today are pouring from him like some stampede of thought.

“You saved me. In more ways than one. More than just today.” The Master admits against your warm skin, “How did you do that? How did you save a thing like me?”

You don’t have a response; the answer is as much a mystery to you as it is to him. But you can move your hand down from his hair to hold his jaw and run a thumb over his cheek to acknowledge him. You can smile up at him and draw him in for a kiss, and let all your emotions flood through his mind until all he feels is the depth of your love for him.

The Master moans and pulls himself up from your chest. His hips pick up pace again, grinding into you harder and faster until he builds a steady rhythm.

“You’re perfect y’know that?” He groans out with a renewed vigor, “Absolutely perfect.”

He listens to your moans and feels your body’s reaction. He adjusts his thrusts until you’re a writhing mess beneath him, whimpering and whining as you listen to his ceaseless praise.

“You beat the odds and bent that fucking Mermaid to your will. You brought it up the hill. You slammed that church door open. You’re the reason I’m still alive, love.” The Master has to pause, fighting off his release. The sight of you practically glowing in the lamplight below him is too much. All your soft warmth and quiet strength is overwhelming. He’s so proud of you that it overflows both of your minds and cascades through your bodies. It’s too much all at once.

“You saved me.” He whispers against your lips.

“And you saved me.” You respond, leaning up to kiss him.

It’s like a switch is flipped, and now the Master is frantically kissing you and thrusting into you like an animal, desperate to give you everything you want and more.

“I’m yours, darling. Entirely yours.” He pants into your ear. “The universe is yours if you so wish.”

Your moans are music to him; every thrust he gives is punctuated by your sultry, fucked-out voice and he’s convinced it’s the only sound that matters anymore. That is, until you card a hand through his hair and groan into his ear.

“Master, I’m close…”

He groans, and takes that as a challenge of sorts. He won’t finish until you do, but he’s so damn close it’s getting hard to hold on.

You notice his erratic thrusts; his shaking arms; the way he holds his breath and does everything he can to stave off his own release until you’re satisfied.

In an effort to help you, he reaches a hand down to play with your clit like he had before, drawing the most beautiful gasps and moans from your lips as your pleasure mounts - building into something tight and unbearable.

It only takes a couple more thrusts and one last circle on your clit to��

“Master! Don’t—don’t stop, I—please don’t stop! I—I’m—“

Your vision whites out. Your body writhes beneath the Master and wave after wave of pleasure slams through you until all that’s left is a boneless lump on the Master’s bed. For a moment, you’re entirely wiped out. You’re unable to move or think. You’re vaguely aware of the wetness between your thighs and the Master shuddering above you, heaving his breaths as he recovers from his own release.

You come down slow, enjoying the light airy feeling and the hazy pleasure that lingers afterwards. You twitch as the Master pulls his cock from you and leaves a little kiss on your clit. He quickly crawls up the bed to check on you.

“You alright there, love?” He smiles down at your fucked-out face. He’s still breathing heavy and the sight is beautiful to you.

“Mmhm.” You nod and smile back up at him.

“How are you feeling? Done for the night or do you want more?” He asks, wiping a stray drop of sweat from your face.

He can feel your slight hesitation and quickly tries to reassure you: “It’s okay, love. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

You nod, pulling a pillow into your arms.

“I want more…” you admit into the pillow, a bashful tone overtaking your voice.

“And how do you want it?”

You look up at the Master to see him smiling. You return that smile with wide, excited eyes. His question is enough to reassure you and you answer him with one hundred percent sincerity:

“Fuck me into this mattress, Master.”

His cock twitches and he takes a shuddering breath.

“As you wish, love.” The Master purrs.

A few rounds later, you feel very thoroughly fucked into the mattress. Your bones feel like they’ve dissolved into jelly, and you’re little more than a puddle of hazy, happy pleasure.

And then there’s something warm and wet between your legs, reeling you back into reality.

The sheets are askew, the support pillow is halfway across the room, and you’re certain your nails left scratches all over the headboard.

And then Master is there, between your legs, cleaning you up with a warm washcloth.

“There you go, love. Comfy?”

You nod lazily and make grabby hands at him with the most convincing pout you can muster.

The Master laughs. “Alright, darling. I’ll be right there.”

He sets the washcloth aside and returns to his bathroom for a short moment, coming back out with a couple glasses of water.

“You don’t have to drink this now, but you’ll probably want it when we wake up.”

You look straight past the glasses on his bedside table, focusing on him, how he moves, and how he’s joining you in bed.

You scramble under the soft purple duvet and hold up the other side, inviting the Master in. He chuckles and slides in bed to be immediately smothered by your clingy cuddles.

He cuddles you right back, tangling his legs with yours and holding your body close to his. He covers the both of you in his deep purple duvet and turns to tell you goodnight.

You’re already passed out though, clinging to the Master’s body and using his chest as a pillow.

He laughs to himself and turns off the bedside lamps, then settles himself in the bed and falls right asleep with you.

The Master wakes a few hours later to the feeling of your body moving. You’re still asleep, just adjusting a bit. The room is still dark. He can see you well enough though, and takes this time to admire you and everything you had done yesterday.

He’d meant every word he said last night. He was astounded by your strength. He was proud of you for surviving. For saving him.

But there was still this little voice in his head telling him that none of it should have happened; that you shouldn’t have had to save him; that that’s not your job when you’re traveling with him.

It’s not long before guilt starts to settle in, ruining what sweet afterglow he could have had as he admired you.

A small rustle next to him reels him back to reality.

“G’mornin’” you yawn and stretch out against the Master’s body.

“Good morning, love.” The Master says as he turns away for a moment to switch on the bedside lamps.

He laughs a little when you scrunch your eyes closed, and fight to let your eyes adjust to the new light. He gives you a warm look, taking in the features of your face as you slowly open your eyes.

“Have I ever told you how much I love the color of your eyes?” He whispers.

“I think you’ve mentioned it a time or two.” You smile up at him before noticing that something is just a hair off in his expression, “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing’s wrong. Just enjoying my view.”

“No. You’ve got that look on your face. The one you wear when something’s wrong, but you don’t want to scare me so you pretend everything’s fine.”

“You really do know me, don’t you, darling?”

“That I do.” You give a little sassy nod and wait for the Master’s explanation.

“Fine. It’s the trip. Yesterday.”

“What are you thinking about?” You sit up, giving the Master all of your attention.

“I just…yesterday was supposed to be a fun, seaside trip. I wanted to take you to the ocean and watch your face light up when you saw the beach - you’re always talking about how much you love the beach - and I just wanted to make you happy. But instead, I got it wrong. I almost lost you.” The Master reaches out to hold your hand - like he’s making sure you’re still here.

“Master, that isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.”

His gaze focuses on your fingers as he quietly inspects them.

“Isn’t it? If I had got the date right, none of this would have happened. You would have stayed safe.”

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Even with a time machine and your Time Lord super powers, you couldn’t have known.” You insist.

“I should have turned us around the minute I felt suspicious–”

“It’s not your fault, Master.”

“–but you looked so happy when you rushed out the TARDIS doors–”

“Master, it isn’t–”

“–and the way your face lit up when you heard the sound of the waves? How could I ever say no to that face? I couldn’t, so–”

“Master–”

“–so I let you go. I let you explore and I–”

“Master.”

“I put you in danger. Like I always do.”

The look on the Master’s face was a punch to your gut. You could see tears starting to well in his eyes and a look in them that said he was trying to fight them back. You wrap your arms around him, bringing his head to rest on your chest before any could fall.

“It’s not your fault, Master. It’s not your fault.”

“I–I could have done m-more to save you. To keep the villagers from harming you.”

“But you did save me. I’m still here. I’m right here, holding you, running my fingers through your hair – the same old me it’s always been.” You pause to rake your fingers through the Master’s hair, “Neither of us could have known how the villagers would react to us. Neither of us were prepared for anything like it. But we survived. And I’m still alive because you saved me.”

He nods into your neck, hugging you closer to him as his body shudders.

After a moment, he looks back up at you, wiping his eyes and cheeks before you say anything. He just keeps staring into your eyes, looking at you to make sure you’re really still there - making sure he really had gotten all of the Mermaid out of your mind.

You notice the bags under his eyes. They’re still there despite how long the two of you slept. It makes you wonder.

“Master, how long did you spend removing the Mermaid from my head?”

He hesitates a moment and a guilty look starts to overshadow his eyes.

“Ten hours.”

Your eyes widen - practically popping right out of your head.

“Ten hours? Straight?”

The Master nods, solemn.

You are silent. Dumbstruck. You give the Master a look that pleads for an explanation or some rationale to explain what he was thinking. Ten hours straight to remove the alien in your head?

“It was a delicate process. One wrong move could have killed you and there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. I thought I lost you once last night, nothing in the universe could have stopped me from trying to save you.”

“Master I–” The Master isn’t done.

“Losing you, love, for however brief a moment, shattered me. I thought you were dead. Really, truly, there’s-no-coming-back-from-this dead. I didn’t even fight the villagers when they dragged me to the church. Or when they restrained me. Or when they were setting up that stupid ritual. I could only see the terror in your eyes as you were pushed over, and I could only think about how I couldn’t save you. I didn’t try hard enough to save you. I got distracted and I—“

“Master.” Your gentle voice pulls him from his rambling. You pull him into a hug, hoping it will help ground him.

“I’m scared of losing you.” The Master admits in a whisper against your neck. “I’ve never been more scared than I was last night.”

You place a kiss on his cheek and cradle his neck in your hand. You know there isn’t anything to say in response.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he sits back up and cradles your head in his hand.

“Yknow, this whole traveling thing…I need you with me. It’s not worth it to travel the stars if you’re not here. If I had lost you last night…I’d–I’d lose myself. I don’t know what I’d become.”

“You didn’t lose me, Master, you saved me. We saved each other.”

The Master nods, pulling you back into his arms. He places a kiss just under your ear and nuzzles into your neck, taking a moment to appreciate how it feels to hold you.

You almost miss it, but right as you close your eyes, there’s a mumble against your ear.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Star and Mood Dividers By: @cafekitsune

Ocean Divider:

#dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master x fem!reader #the master x reader #the master #doctor who #I’m unhealthy about this fic #This is my Moby Dick #but in a good sorta way #did not think I’d ever compare myself to Ahab but here we are #is it weird that I'm not ready to publish this? Like #I've been working on it for so long and now that it's done #I'm not ready to let her go #is this what its like to send a kid to college? I feel like I'm sending my kid out to sea and I have to wait on the shore til they come bac

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