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fxlling13 · 8 months ago

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I do, Not.

Whittaker!Master x (fem)reader

Synopsis: The Master joins you as a plus one to your cousins wedding, unaware of how awful your family actually is.

Warnings: Body shaming, bad language, suggestive content, homophobia, bullying behaviour.

WC: 8.5k

Light glided up and down the pillar in the centre of the console, moving at a regular pace, an indicator that you were adrift in space. There was a steady rumble in the air, the ships engine on auto. The Doctor was rambling, you weren’t sure what about as you had zoned out many minutes prior. But he was exited. Maybe it was your next trip? Or a new planet? Perhaps he’d found an ancient artefact and wanted to dissect it. Either way, you hadn’t been paying any attention. Your eyes were fixated on the metallic floor, brain going at a thousand miles per hour.

“-don’t you both agree?” The Doctors voice slowly filtered back into your head. Blinking a few times, you looked up, trying not to make your confusion obvious.

“Oh yeah of course. That was the best option, right (y/n)?” The Master looked over at you from her seat by the console, her face unreadable.

“R-right. Yeah.” You said unconvincingly, playing with your fingers. She raised her brows, looking you up and down as if to scan you. You just averted your eyes.

“Good. Good. So, I’ll drop you back off at home, (y/n)? Or should I wait till after you’ve slept?” The Doctor asked, smiling at you warmly. Your heart sunk a little at the idea, time was not on your side at all.

“After I’ve slept. If that’s alright?”

“Of course it is. You go and rest okay?” He grinned, patting your shoulder affectionately. You gave him a tight lipped smile, turning and heading up the steps, to find your room. Thankfully, the tardis had moved it closer for you. Once inside, you sat yourself on the plush bed and put your head in your hands. With your anxiety through the roof, you let out a shallow breath and gripped the roots of your hair hard. You really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to force yourself to act a certain way, just to appease your family. If you thought too hard, you knew you’d get overly emotionally and tried to regulate your mind. It was one day. You could survive one day. Right? Out of nowhere, hands landed on your own, carefully pulling them away from your head.

“Are you trying to pull your hair out?” The Master sounded both concerned and amused, looking down at you. Not having heard her come in, you gaped at her for a moment. She ran her fingers through your hair, straightening it out. “What’s wrong?” Her question caught you even more off guard, forcing you to smile.

“Nothing.” She just looked at you with a straight face, clearly seeing past your lie.

“You’ve been out of it all week. You nearly got lost yesterday because you weren’t listening to us.” The Master started, taking a seat beside you. “And I know The Doctor loves to chat, but you always listen. You’re always engaged. You’re far too nice not to be. So what’s wrong?” Knowing you had been caught out, you stared down at your lap in defeat.

“It’s stupid.” You muttered, thinking that the Timelady would just laugh at your woes.

“That’s for me to decide.” She replied, golden eyes never leaving you. Slowly, you turned yourself to face her, sitting criss-cross and occupying yourself with a loose thread on your navy sheets.

“I have to go to my cousins wedding when I go home.” You begun, nail catching the thread right to pull it out.

“Right? So what’s the issue?” The Master pressed, observing your body language.

“We don’t get along. At all. It’s complicated.”

“I see. If you don’t get on, why are you going?”

“I’m in the bridal party. Her mum, my auntie, practically forced her to put me as a bridesmaid.” You explained, straightening your back and looking at the blonde once again. “She’s really difficult to deal with. And really old fashioned. She even tried to force me to wear a really ugly dress but I fought her on that.”

“Have you tried hitting her?” The Masters question made you giggle, shaking your head. “It might work.”

“Yeah I’ll keep that in mind.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Can’t you take someone with you?” The Master asked, trying to bring light to your situation. You just groaned, flopping back against your pillows.

“That’s the problem. I can bring a plus one, I just don’t have anyone.”

“Why not take your precious Doctor. You know he loves a wedding.” She grumbled pointedly.

“First of all, he’s not ‘my’ Doctor. Secondly, no. He’s far too boisterous, would cause more issues.” Your voice grew quiet, closing your eyes and being saddened by the situation. Raising from spot, The Master walked around the bed and sat on the free side. She leant closer to you, admiring your features silently.

“What about me?” You shot up, peering at her a bit baffled.

“What about you?”

“Well. I’ll go with you.” She said calmly, as if it was easy. As if it were a normal thing for a woman like her to do.

“You’d go? To a human wedding?”

“Why not?” She almost seemed offended, putting her hands behind her head.

“Humans?” You chortled, shocked at her laid back approach to it.

“I don’t care about them. I’d be going to keep you company.” The Master propped up the pillows behind her, sitting back comfortably. Preying that your cheeks were staying their natural colour, you glanced at her again.

“You’ll dress up?”

“Come now, you know I love to do that.” Okay, she had a point there.

“You’ll follow the time schedule?”

“Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.” The Master turned her head to look at you with a smile. Now you were blushing, swallowing hard.

“You’d have to go in alone, because I’m in the bridal party. So you’d have to get ready and find your seat without me.” You told her, settling down once again. She hummed and nod, lying on her side to face you.

“That’s fine.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?” You were unsure, thinking maybe she was just pulling your leg. The woman reached across, brushing your hair behind your shoulder.

“Of course I will.” She tapped your nose softly, earning a bashful smile from you in return. “So tell me, what’s the theme sweetheart?” Her hand caressed your cheek, your breath catching slightly. The Master had always been touchy with you, and it was no secret that you loved it. At home, you had always felt touch-starved, coming from a more private family. From people who kept themselves to themselves, and their emotions under lock and key.

“Hm? Winter wonderland.” You said, gazing up at her happily. “I think she’s having it in a country manor. From the pictures, everything was white and covered in fake snow.”

“Sounds tacky.” The Master muttered, thumb rolling over the apple of your cheek slowly. Your skin went warm beneath her touch.

“The inside looks nice, it’s really old. If you ignore the plastic winter creatures she’s going to put up.” You both laughed.

“Dress code?” She then asked, remembering what you said earlier.

“Obviously it’s evening wear. Suits, dresses, whatever you feel comfortable in.” You let yourself consider the woman next to you. “It’s winter colours. So reds? Maroon? Plum? You’d look pretty in plum…” you trailed off, thinking out loud. She smirked, noticing your mind slipping elsewhere. Gripping your chin between her finger and thumb, she brought your attention back to her.

“Oh? Would I now?” Her smug tone made you realise what you had just said, your eyes growing wider. “Are you flirting with me, love?” The Master chuckled, leaning inanely close to your face. Panicking slightly, you scooted away and got up off the bed. She looked at you bemused.

“N-no of course not.” You looked down at the carpet, scared of the disgust that would be sent your way if she thought you were. “I wouldn’t..don’t worry.” The Master just looked at you with pure confusion, sitting herself upright.

“You know it’s okay if you were right?” She reassured. You just nod, grabbing your nightwear and heading into the bathroom to change.

———

You had given The Master all the information she needed. Time. Date. Place. Everything she needed to know. You were half convinced she wouldn’t even show up, but held out hope regardless. Once The Doctor had dropped you home, you gathered everything you would need and called a cab.

The manor was indeed already decorated, fitted with fake holly along all of the windows. Pine trees lined the drive in, the ground covered with white stones. Lifting your duffle bag, you walked inside and up into the bridal suite. You knocked, a younger blonde woman letting you in. You recognised her to be your cousins long time friend.

“Oh there you are. Hurry up and get dressed.” Your cousin, Beth, hardly looked at you, motioning to a door at the back of the room. She was in the middle of having her long, mouse-brown hair curled. Doing as you were told, you stepped into the lavish bathroom, admiring the floral wallpaper. Carefully, you pulled out your dress and stepped into it. The deep red satin fit you perfectly, the zip easy to fasten. With off the shoulder sleeves, the front having a v-cut neckline. There were lace details lining the long dress, the satin material flowing down your body perfectly. Even with a slit up the left thigh, the dress was classy and sweet. After fastening your heels, you left the bathroom. Beth turned, jaw clenching as she saw you.

“Sit. You need your hair done.” Her voice was dry, the lady doing her makeup having to stop momentarily. Sitting yourself down, you chose a simple style and let the worker do your hair. Everyone was chatting, a clear excitement floating around the room. You didn’t know any of them, only your cousin who was ignoring your presence. Already, you felt so out of place, sitting in silence whilst your face was made up.

“You look really pretty.” The lady applying your lipstick spoke quietly, your eyes growing in surprise. You smiled at her,

“Thank you.” Your voice was low, but clearly showed your emotions. Beth stood, two friends helping her into the oversized gown she called a wedding dress. Another bridesmaid handed her a bouquet of bright red roses, a stark contrast to all the white, but matching her lips. You were handed a bunch of poinsettia, tied with white ribbon.

“Don’t slouch or anything, (y/n). I don’t need you ruining the aesthetic.” Beth drawled, allowing someone to clip her veil in. You said nothing, just watching her and waiting. You knew eventually it would start, the insults and jabs. “Then again, you’re looking a little peaky. Lost weight?” The girls all laughed, apart from the stylists that was. Your hands moved to cover your middle self consciously.

“Maybe?” You mumbled, trying not to show any effect. Beth giggled patronisingly, making her way over to you. She looked you up and down with disgust, sucking on her teeth slight.

“I’d say just sit still and look pretty, but you can’t even do that.” Again, her little tribe began to laugh, as you stood there with shame. From the corner of your eye, you could see the make up artist looking at you with pity. Just then, your auntie burst into the room, a big smile on her face as she rushed to her daughter. You could hear her saying how beautiful she looked and had an internal conflict. It wasn’t your aunts fault, she didn’t know how Beth acted towards you. Still, it annoyed you.

“Oh and (y/n) don’t you look nice. I’m happy you’re here.” Your aunt gave you a quick hug before checking a message on her phone. “Twenty minutes people. Shall we head down and wait in the lounge?” She ushered everyone down the stairs, through some double doors and into a well decorated room. There were three couches and two chairs, all black velvet. Taking one of the chairs, you pulled out your phone, seeing that The Doctor had been spamming you with wedding themed gifs. You just scoffed to yourself, scrolling through them. Then your phone pinged, The Master.

Master: though I don’t like this stupid human technology, I’m going to use it for your sake. How is everything this morning?

Even her texts were formal, you thought whilst quickly typing a reply.

Me: stressful but fine. Just waiting for the groom I think. Are you here?

Master: of course I am. Right at the back of the hall. There’s an old man next to me. I don’t like him.

Me: what why?

Master: he smells like an old shoe cupboard. I’m thinking of spraying him with my perfume.

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head as your thumbs moved across the keypad.

Me: let’s not. I’m sure you can cope for an hour.

Master: an hour?! No, I think I may have to douse him in the stuff.

Me: as funny as that would be, please don’t.

Master: very well. The things I do for you, right sweetheart?

Her message made your cheeks grow red, your lip catching between your teeth.

Me: I am your favourite, right?

After the previous night, the way she had responded to your accidental flirting, you decided to test the waters. Just to see if she’d play along or be put off by it.

Master: but of course my dear, why else would I surround myself with silly little humans.

Your smile grew embarrassingly large, watching the small bubbles on screen. Who knew The Master could be so charming?

Master: besides, you don’t smell.

Me: that’s good to know.

Master: why do the women here wear such odd hats?

Me: it’s British wedding attire, they’re called fascinators. I don’t get it either

Master: they’re bigger than them. And so brightly coloured. Why do they have such big feathers and round things on them?

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, a hand coming to cover your mouth.

Me: sounds like you’re having fun, judging everyone.

Master: well, you’re not here so how else can I entertain myself.

Me: you make me sound like a toy.

Master: not at all, sweetheart. I merely enjoy your company, is that such a crime?

Again, you were blushing, staring at the black text dumbly. How could she have such an impact on you, when she wasn’t even with you.

“Who you texting, (y/n)? Your boyfriend?” One girl jeered, the entourage cackling in unison. You peered over at them, your mood souring in a second.

“Don’t be silly, as if anyone would ever date that.” Beth taunted, earning more laughs from her minions. Hastily, you put your phone into your bag, sitting yourself straighter. Seeing the time, Beth made everyone stand heading towards the doors. Giving you one last glare, she muttered “don’t walk too fast, your scrawny legs might snap.” With a sickening smile, she stood by her father and linked his arm. He was always a silent man, he saw his daughter’s behaviour but never cared. You got in line, holding the flowers so tight you thought their stems might break. Alas, they did not and you followed the other bridesmaids down the aisle, classical music guiding everyone along. You stood in formation, listening to the exchange of vows doing your best to keep a smile plastered on your face. It seemed to go on for hours, their self-made vows boring you half to death. Eventually, they said ‘I do’ and sealed their marriage with a far too long kiss, walking back down the aisle hand in hand.

———

Your aunt and uncle stood with you, waiting by a set of white French doors, for the happy couple to come along. It was freezing outside, but you three were forced to endure the November wind. All the guests were inside the main hall, being shown to their seats and allowed to get drinks.

“Oh my love!” Your aunt sounded happy, hugging the newly weds. You said nothing, just following your family inside when they were announced. Beth was making a scene for herself, waving at the crowd as if she were a celebrity. Rolling your eyes, you checked the list for your table number. Of course, you were with your family, on the main round table in the centre of the room. You spotted that your ‘plus one’ assigned the seat next to you, thankfully. Beth passed you, her hip budging you harder than needed. You stumbled to the side, allowing the taller to gaze at her guest list, as if she needed to.

“Don’t rush, you won’t be missed.” She spat, walking off without a care. Even though you’d always been treated that way from her, it made your chest hurt. You were growing tired of it. A hand landed on your shoulder, making you turn on the spot. You instantly relaxed, seeing The Master. She was looking you over with worry, a scowl on her features.

“I’ve been looking for you, did she really make you wait? Just so she could make that lacklustre entrance?” She scoffed, shaking her head. However, you found yourself thoroughly distracted, her appearance shocking you. Her usually straight hair had a slight curl to it, done with precision. She wore a crimson suit, with wide-leg pants and blazer sleeves turned up twice. Her shirt, crisp and white, was fastened with a loose red tie. More to the point, her lips were tainted like a candy apple, tempting you cruelly. “Love?” She trailed her hand down your arm, brining you out of your trance.

“S-sorry, what?” You stuttered, blinking quickly. The Master smirked, stepping closer and letting her eyes wander over your figure.

“Wow, look at you.” She grinned not shy about admiring you. You averted your eyes, looking to the side to escape her vision.

“Beautiful.”

“Awful-“ you both spoke at the same time, coming to look at each other with surprise. The Master frowned, tilting her head a little.

“What?” She half laughed, looking you over once more. “Awful? How can you possibly think that? You look gorgeous.” Her manicured hand cupped your cheek, lips curling up. You blushed, leaning into her touch naturally.

“I don’t agree, but thank you.” You mumbled, causing the woman to raise her brows.

“Would I lie to you?” She asked.

“Well, no but-“

“Exactly, you look devine. And I’ll give hell to anyone who says otherwise. Okay sweetheart?” The Master finally made you smile, nodding your head shyly. “Let’s find our seats shall we, I’m parched.”

After finding your seats, The Master looked around the room with a judging gaze.

“Everyone’s so…chirpy.”

“I think you mean, happy?” You laughed, facing her properly. She just rolled her eyes, leaning back on the mahogany seat and resting her hand on the top of your chair. For a moment, The Master just looked at you, her eyes softer than normal.

“What? What is it?” You felt small, like an ant compared to her. She exuded confidence and poise, making even the toughest men tremble. It was one of the things that drew you to her, her almost protective aura.

“I’m just admiring you, love.” She murmured, moving to twirl the front strand of your hair. Your face felt hot suddenly. “I like your hair, and your make up, it looks good.” The Master continued, not helping your racing heart at all.

“A stylist did it.” Was all you could get out, unsure of how to react to her compliments.

“Well, they did an amazing job. It’s hard to make perfection more perfect.” Your hands came up, covering your face in an instant. How could she say something like that so casually? She chuckled, stroking the back of your head.

“You can’t just say that.” You whined, peeking out at her.

“What? The truth? Of course I can, in fact, it’s very easy.” The Master grinned, giving you a cheeky wink. You just laughed, hitting her arm playfully. “I’ll go and get us a drink, okay love?” You bobbed your head, watching her leave your side and head across the room. A witch-like laughter drew closer, almost making you wince. It was Beth, and her poor husband, taking their seats two down from you. Her voice was loud and obnoxious, like nails on a chalkboard. She was boasting about her big day, clinging to her partners arm as if he’d vanish. Though, you wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Enjoying your afternoon alone?” Beth asked, leaning over to you with a false smile. Ignoring her, you looked back into the crowd for The Master. “It’s a shame you didn’t go with the dress I picked for you. It would have given you a figure.” She said, grimacing as she looked at you. Sighing, you faced her with a blank expression. Beth put her hands up in defence.

“Look, I’m just saying. You look like a twig. That dress would have given you hips.” She exasperated.

“It was poofy and ridiculous. Plus, it was bright, bright red. I would have looked stupid.” You huffed pointedly.

“You don’t need any help there.” Beth spoke under her breath, crossing her leg and leering at you. “I think you look stupid in that dress if I’m honest. Why wear low cut when you have no tits to show off?” She laughed, pointing at you as if you weren’t there. A lump formed in your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “(Y/n) you look like a little boy. I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just facts. You should really gain weight if you ever want a boyfriend.” She chastised, her faux advice hitting you twice in the gut. Swallowing thickly, you dipped your head, gripping the fabric of your dress. “I’m assuming you came alone? Dumb question actually, of course you d-“ Beth paused, surprise taking over. Behind you, you felt the presence of someone sitting down.

“Here’s your drink.” The Master said, paying no mind to your cousin. It felt as though your lips were glued shut. The atmosphere was tense, the blonde beside you finally looking at Beth.

“Sorry, you are?”

“You can just call me, O.” The Master shook her hand firmly, the other scoffing a laugh.

“O? That’s a name?”

“Well obviously not, it’s a nickname. But it’s all you need to know.” Beth was taken aback by The Masters blunt attitude, but you didn’t care.

“Right. And how do you know (y/n)?”

“We worked together…” You answered, having already thought about it earlier. You’d known you had to be well prepared, couldn’t go around telling people she was an alien.

“Oh in your stupid little science job?” Beth sipped at her wine, the drink staining her top lip. You inhaled deeply, relived when Beth turned her attention to her friends. Blinking fast, you flinched when The Master placed a hand on your shoulder. Looking at her, you found her seemingly annoyed.

“Does she always talk to you like that?” She questioned, but you couldn’t respond. She hadn’t heard everything and you didn’t want to fuss over nothing. Your silence worried her. The Master brought you to face her, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“That’s a yes then. Ignore her, she looks like a pastry.” That comment made you laugh, picking up your fruity drink. Shuffling your chair closer, you gazed up at her sadly.

“You can distract me right?” Your voice was pouty, eyes glossed over. The Master felt her breath hitch, your innocent face doing things to her. She caressed your cheek lovingly.

“Of course, come here.” You didn’t need to be told twice, allowing her to wrap an arm around you and pull you back into her chest. With your back resting against her front, The Master let her arm hold around your waist, landing on your hip. Remembering your cousins words, you carefully moved her hand off of your hip-bone. The Master noticed immediately, looking down at you confused. Closing your eyes, you let out a breath and let your head fall back onto her shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here, I don’t think I’d cope without you.” You mumbled, wetting your lips.

“You flatter me, love.” The Master sipped her short, “I’m not going anywhere don’t you worry.” She assured you, your eyes opening and looking right at her. You smiled shyly, not minding as her hand returned to its original spot. Drawing shapes on your hip, The Masters hazel eyes flickered down to your lips, just for a second before moving away.

“Will there be food?”

“Yeah look.” You reached forward, picking up a card from the middle of the table, then sitting back again. The Master took it from you, reading over the menu with a pleased hum.

“Sounds okay I suppose. I am quite peckish.” She spoke absentmindedly, eyes wandering around the room. Clearly, she was back to judging the guests again. It was funny to watch, the emotions on her face constantly changing. “Oh lord, that man is coming over.” Remembering her texts, you watched as an older gentleman waddled past and to the bride. You covered your mouth, tilting your head back and whispering.

“That’s her great uncle.” The Master made a small noise of recognition, her lips moving by your ear.

“That explains the smell.” You both laughed quietly, unaware of being watched.

———

After an hour of people mingling, everyone was made to sit and get ready for the food. The Master unfolded your cloth napkin, placing it over your lap neatly.

“How chivalrous.” You giggled, watching her do her own.

“I do try, love.” She may have been joking, but you had butterflies in your stomach regardless. Appetisers were placed in front of you, a trio of dips with different crudité and breads for dunking. Along side this was a small bowl of soup. It was a vibrant orange colour. Picking up your spoon, you tried some, soon pulling a face of disgust.

“Not to your taste?” The Master chortled, eating hers normally.

“I hate lentils.” You told her, moving the bowl aside and dipping the cucumber into some hummus. It was a light start to the meal, not that you minded. Thankfully, your auntie was talking to you now, telling you all about her life in retirement. You hardly noticed everything get cleared and the fresh cutlery get put down. The waiters went around putting the mains out, a seasonal roast. Who doesn’t love that? There were roasted rainbow carrots, large sprouts and parsnips. Along with the stuffing and crispy potato’s, there were two cuts of meat to choose from. After asking you, The Master put some on your plate before her own then sat back.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She turned to you with a hint of amusement.

“Like what?”

“All soppy, every time I do something for you.” Her gaze softened as she looked at you, a genuine smile on her lips.

“Because I appreciate it.” You said simply, eating a small bite of your food. She beamed, giving your hand a small squeeze before turning to her own meal. The room was fairly quiet as people ate, apart from Beth of course. She was still going on with herself. Even her man looked tired of the constant word vomit. When finished, The Master leant over, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke.

“What happens now?” You shivered at the close proximity.

“Well i think they’re going to do speeches before dessert. Then I assume there will be dancing?” She nod at you, sitting back again. The plates were cleaned hastily, the room picking up again.

“So, O, how long have you known (y/n)?” Your aunt smiled at the blonde, but there was a sour feeling behind it.

“Over a year, we work together.” The Master lied, repeating what you had said earlier.

“Oh that’s lovely, we were just talking about their childhood.” She practically disregarded her, hands clasping together. You pressed your lips into a fine line, not having the best memories of your youth. “When they were little, they used to fight all the time. It was adorable.” Your auntie laughed, reminiscing happily. Beth looked over at you, smiling fakly. They were less than joyous memories, every family event was hell on earth. “They’ve always just been so different. Has (y/n) told you that Beth was a Pageant queen in London?” Your aunt gloated. The Master glanced at you before shaking her head. You rubbed at your face tiredly.

“She certainly hadn’t.”

“Oh yes! She won three years in a row. Oh I was so proud.” Beth grinned at her mother’s praise, still held up on her beauty queen title. “What was it you won, (y/n)? Best young uh…uhm…”

“It was just a junior writers competition.” You said quietly, head bowed in embarrassment. Beth snorted out a laugh, your chest tightening in shame.

“Oh yes that was it! You got your story published.”

“You did? That’s amazing.” The Master wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying to bring you some comfort. You just scoffed.

“No it’s not.” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

“She had one of those emo phases too. Oh they looked so silly next to each other. My Beth was in pink and (y/n) was all in black.” Both your Aunt and Beth were laughing, as you shrunk in on yourself.

“And remember when you had purple hair?” Beth jabbed, giggling into her hand. The Master kept her attention on you, rubbing your arm tenderly. Just when you thought that maybe she’d finished, Beth let out an excitable gasp. “You know what was the funniest phase you had?” You looked at her confused, unsure of where she was going with it. “That time you said you liked girls!” She cackled and you felt your heart drop. Your lips parted, mouth going dry instantly. “Don’t you remember mum?” Beth asked.

“Of course I do, that was a wild day. But she was just confused. Weren’t you dear? We don’t want to scare off your colleague.” Your aunt smiled at you, but you could see the unease in her eyes. Swallowing thickly, you nod slowly.

“I’m glad you’re not one of those at least. Disgusting.” Beth shivered as if repulsed, picking up her wine glass again.

“Yeah, thank god.” Your eyes started to sting with unshed tears, so you stood carefully and excused yourself. The master watched you make your exit, head shooting around to your cousin. She would have shot them, but knew you wouldn’t approve.

Icy winter air hit you as you stepped outside. You leant against the jagged brick wall, head falling back on it as you stared up at the darkening sky. Even though you tried, you couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. Everything was ruined now, she knew your dirty little secret. A part of you that you hid from everyone, including yourself. Sliding down the wall, you balled up your fists, hitting your head a few times as your breathing increased in pace. You should never have come. You could hear the door opening, heels clicking as they came closer. Something pressed to your side but you didn’t look, not even when a hand came to land on your knee.

“(Y/n)..?” The Master spoke gently, as if worried she’d scare you. Not responding, she thumbed your cold skin softly, letting you have a moment. Brining your head forward, you inhaled weakly.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping under your eyes harshly.

“Look at me, (y/n).” The Master ordered with an authoritative timbre. Nervously, you looked up at the blonde with watery eyes. She frowned, tilting your chin towards her and letting out a breath.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re going to think I’m disgusting.” You stuttered, sniffling and avoiding her intense, hazel eyes.

“What? What are you talking about?” She sounded puzzled, stroking your hair gingerly.

“Because of what she said-“

“Your cousin?” You nod at her, more tears seeping out the corner of your eyes. Seeing the distress you were in, The Master didn’t say another word. Instead, she pulled you into her warm embrace, arms encasing you protectively. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, deciding to worry about the repercussions later.

“Darling you have nothing to be sorry for.” She said sternly, running her fingers through your hair. “I know you said you didn’t get along. But you should told me how bad it was.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was being dramatic.” You admitted, nuzzling closer to her.

“Dramatic? They’re narcissistic, homophobic, pretentious assholes.” The Master spat, nails scratching against your scalp nicely. You gazed up at her.

“You don’t care?”

“About what?” She asked bemused, wiping your cheeks dry with faint movements.

“That I..like girls…” you struggled to get the words out, having an internal battle with yourself. The Master chuckled, holding your cheek tenderly.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been flirting with you for the past eighteen months. If anything, I’m happy.” Heat rose on your face, eyes widening.

“You have?” Your surprise made the woman laugh harder.

“Oh you’re cute. This is why you’re my favourite.” She simpered, twirling your hair. “Of course I have. And I’ve enjoyed every second of making you all red and flustered. It’s my favourite hobby.” Your heart was racing again, unable to take your eyes off of her. With a hum, she helped you to your feet, brushing off your dress.

“Thank you.” You smiled, making sure there was no dirt on your behind. You could still hear the party, a glass being clinked for attention. “They must be doing the speeches.” You commented, looking down and scuffing your heel against the stones. The dress slipped from your thigh, the slit leaving your leg out in the elements.

“I’m assuming we won’t miss much?”

“No. Just a bunch of ‘me me me’ coming from the bride and everyone boosting her ego.” You said, lip jutting out. The Master, ever confident, leant in close, her breath fanning your face.

“You taunt me, (y/n).” She spoke lowly, causing you to gulp.

“I do?” You asked, trying desperately not to look at her lips.

“You know you do. With your big, sad eyes and pouty lips.” Her thumb ran just under your bottom lip, causing them to part on instinct. “And this dress, leaving very little to the imagination.” Using her pointer finger, she traced the dip in the neckline. Goosebumps rose under her touch, your lip tucking between your teeth. She looked into your eyes smirking, her other hand slipping down your body to hold your hip.

“Tell me what else she’s said tonight.” The Master almost demanded, “because I know there’s more that you haven’t told me.”

“Promise me you won’t kill her?” You gave her your best puppy eyes, earning a reluctant nod. So, with a deep breath, you told her every insult that had been sent your way that day. With everything you said, you saw her temper rising, her hand tightened on your hip.

Her jaw was clenched,nostrils flaring slightly.

“Are you serious?” She spoke through gritted teeth, eyeing the door like a target.

“It’s fine-“

“It not fine, (y/n). She’s your family! It’s verbal abuse!” The Master was enraged, hand slipping into her pocket. “I don’t care, I’m going to turn her into a tiny doll, and stand on her until she’s just plastic dus-“ Thinking on the spot, your latched onto The Masters tie, yanking her forward and crashing your lips together. Dropping her TCE back into her blazer, she kissed back with fervour, holding your waist tightly. You wound your arms around her neck, drawing back a little.

“It’s fine. After tonight I’m not going to contact them for as long as possible.” You mumbled, happy that your spur of the moment decision had worked. The Master rested her forehead against your own, holding your cheek feebly. Loud clapping came from inside but you both paid no mind, occupied with each other.

“I hope you don’t mind me kissing you, just to take your mind off of killing people.” You said quickly, just in case you’d read the situation wrong, and she was only flirting with you for her own entertainment.

“Hm, I didn’t mind at all.” She said lowly, eyes dropping not so subtly. “But maybe I need you to distract me some more?” The Master suggested, voice dropping an octave. You smiled brightly, pressing your lips to hers once again. Her lips moved against yours flawlessly, hand snaking down your thigh and squeezing your soft flesh. Your hand found her nape, pulling her against your body, so she had you pinned to the wall. The Master almost growled, nipping on your bottom lip till they parted, your tongues pressing together. You moaned into the kiss, a hand sliding into her blazer and holding onto her waist. Your mind became hazy, consumed only by her. The Master revelled in the sounds you made, proud knowing it was because of her. You didn’t want it to end, chasing her lips as she pulled away. Pecking your lips a couple more times, The Master looked down at you simpering.

“I say, we go back in there hand in hand, get some cake. Have a dance, who cares about your stupid family? Then we leave and get you the hell away from them.” Liking her idea, you nod gleefully and placed your fingers together. “And if she says anything, I can’t promise I’ll be nice.” The Master told you straight, but you just leant up and kissed her cheek.

“I don’t care.”

———

Thankfully, the speeches were finished when you walked back into the room. On the stage, Beth was cutting the cake, cheering at a pitch far too high. The Master made sure your chairs were touching before sitting down, keeping an arm around your waist.

“I hope it’s chocolate.” You said absentmindedly, noticing people getting their dessert.

“If not, I’ll get you some later.” The Master was quick to say, making you smile.

“You’re so attentive.”

“Have you only just noticed?” She feigned offence, you just laughing and shook your head. Beth returned to the table, giving a slice to her mother and father. A waiter came around for the rest of the guests, making sure everyone got a piece. It was a pretty slice of cake, with white icing and red berries on the top. You were overjoyed to find it was a Black Forest cake. Excited, you tried some of the icing and felt your eyes light up.

“Be careful (y/n). Your emaciated body might shrivel up from all that sugar.” Beth said in a baby voice, pulling an overly cutesy face to add insult to injury. Clicking her tongue, The Master picked up her spoon.

“Jealousy is a nasty disease, Beth. I hope you get better soon.” Her false sympathy almost made you laugh, but you held it together. She sat there shocked, brows knitting together.

“As if I’d be jealous of that. I dont want to look like a boy!”

“And yet.” She begun, casting her eyes over to your cousin. “She’s more feminine than you’ll ever be. Especially with that attitude.” The Master ate some of her cake, tapping the spoon against her lips.

“Excuse me! You’re at my wedding!” Beth screeched, a few people looking over but not really noticing much amiss.

“Hm, you must be so sad that you got outdone on your special day.” The Master taunted, lip turning up as she could see red flashing up on the bride. Beth slammed her fist on the table, a few of the drinks sloshing over.

“I did not get outdone by that bony little skank!” You stopped mid bite, turning to her clearly hurt. Feeling you tense up, The Masters eyes went cold.

“Say that again.” She seethed, looking at the brunette with pure malice. “I dare you.” Beth shrunk back under her icy gaze, jaw trembling slightly as she went back to her own cake. Frowning, you turned your back to your supposed family.

“I can’t wait till we leave.” You murmured, checking the time on your phone. “But I wanna dance with you first.” The idea brought a smile back to your face, digging back into your food. The Master chuckled, watching as your lips wrapped around the spoon almost criminally.

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed off. You looked up at her and she almost groaned but swallowed it down.

“You’re going to kill me sweetheart.”

“I thought that was your job?” You giggled, pushing the now empty bowl away. Giving you a simple smile, The Master got distract by your aunt who had just sat down.

“You two missed the speeches! It’s a shame. They were lovely.” Clearly, she was slightly intoxicated now.

“I’m sure they were.” The master was hardly audible.

“You two are sat really close. Almost on top of each other?” Ignoring the drunk woman, you suddenly remembered something and let out a small gasp. Moving her fingers along your side, The Master looked down at you.

“Is everything alright?”

“I forgot, I kinda have a room here tonight. You know because I’m in the bridal party?” You explained. Blinking at you, she hummed in thought.

“Do you have to stay?”

“Well I suppose not, but it’s a lovely building and it would be a shame not to.” Glimpsing at her, you smiled and rested your head on her shoulder. “You’re my ‘plus one’ remember. Meaning it’s your room too.” That made the timelady grin, brushing your hair back tenderly.

“Then I guess that’s not so bad, but I wasn’t aware of this. I don’t have anything with me?” Pressing your cheek to her blazer, you shrugged with a vivacious smile.

“We can share don’t worry.”

“Oh? Aren’t you sweet.” The Master chuckled, stroking your cheek with the back of her hand. To your right, a noise of distaste could be heard very clearly.

“What are you doing?” Beth asked as if you had broken some sort of law. The Master looked at her, the girl moving back a bit.

“Talking?”

“Not that! That!” Beth waved her hands frantically, motioning to how The Master was holding you. There was a gaping pit in the bottom of your stomach, knowing it could only end badly.

“It’s called physical contact and affection. I know you must not get any, judging by the state of your husband.” The Master nod to the man by the bar, swaying from side to side. Beth looked too, cheeks puffing out sheepishly.

“Of course I do!”

“You seem very insecure about it.” The Master commented, bringing your head to rest on her again. It was as if she could sense your unease.

“I get all the affection I need, from my husband! My man! You two are just being weird!” Beth shrieked. To anyone else, it would seem like you were committing murder. Her over the top reactions were making people talk.

“May-haps you tell us why?” The Master was clearly bored.

“Because you’re both girls! Look at yourselves!” And you did, you both looked at each other with confusion. However, The Master simpered, allowing you to adjust and lean back against her chest. You stared at your cousin emotionlessly, letting out a breath as The Master put her hand on your bare thigh.

“Right?”

“Your point?” You both said at the same time, only causing more agitation from the bridezilla.

“It’s not natural! Not normal!” Beth preached.

“The only thing unnatural around here is you.” The Master shot back. “You should really get a refund from all those doctors.” You covered your mouth quickly, holding your laughter. Beth sat there with her mouth agape, staring dumbly. The Master just smirked, leaning down and pressing her lips to the side of your head. Your aunt, who had been watching the whole time, put her Prosecco down sloppily.

“You just kissed her.” She slurred, eyes narrowing in your direction. The Master just scoffed.

“That, was not a kiss.” She said, cupping your cheek and making you face her. You blushed as her lips met yours, kissing back shyly. The kiss was longer than necessary, not that you were complaining, but you felt the discomfort around you. When she pulled back, The Master smiled and looked at your aunt smugly.

“That was a kiss.” She bragged, standing and pulling you with her. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. We’re going to dance.”

“Together?” Your aunt still questioned somehow.

“Are you mentally slow?” The Master spat, sliding her hand back around your waist. They just stared. Rolling her eyes, the blonde clicked her tongue in anger.

“Yeah, exactly. You’re old and loveless, stuck with a husband who won’t even speak to you, and a daughter you live through vicariously. And even that disappoints you.” The Master was toying with fire, throwing everything back at your aunt, the same way you’d always been treated. “Don’t look at us, like we’re the ones doing something wrong. As if you haven’t been using her as your personal punching bag. I’d count yourselves lucky that she even came, that she’s even staying. And, after tonight, don’t bet on ever seeing her again.” She spat, taking you away from them and onto the dance floor.

———

The room was as luxurious as expected, neat and pristine. There was a large king-sized bed in the middle, with fresh white, linen sheets and a dark throw folded neatly at the bottom. With two mahogany tables on either side, one had a copper lamp, the other a bowl of mints and a phone for reception. On the left wall, there was a large window, with cream drapes and wooden shutters. On the right, a wardrobe and dressing table, matching to the rest of the maroon wood-work. Opposite the bed there was a large tv hung on the wall, a door next to it which lead to a bathroom. Your bags had been taken there, courtesy of the hotel staff.

“This is nice, you were right.” The Master nod, walking around and looking at the paintings dotted about. Crouching by your bag, you pulled out your pyjamas, plus a spare vest then walked over to her.

“Here, you can wear these.” You handed her the black plaid, loose pyjama pants along with a grey vest. She took them gratefully.

“Thanks love. Mind if I take the bathroom?” Once you had shook your head, she gave your nose an affectionate tap before going. After slipping out of your dress, you unclasped your bra, tossing both into the bag without care. Buttoning up the matching plaid shirt, you put on some cosy socks then perched on the end of the bed. It took a few minutes, but you took your hair out of its style and brushed out all the knots until it was smooth again. Taking the remote, you flicked through the limited options on the tv.

“Anything decent?” The Master asked, reappearing from the bathroom.

“Shrek?” You said, not recognising anything else on the list. Clearly, it was the only big production movie they had bought the rights to stream. Looking up, your face grew warm at what you saw. It was a rare sight, seeing The Master in pyjamas, but it was one you found yourself liking. The grey vest was tight, making your eyes fixate on less than savoury areas. Walking to stand in front of you, she tilted your chin up so your eyes met.

“Put whatever you like on, I know noise helps you relax.” The Master smiled, stroking your cheek before stepping away and going to the left side of the bed. Clicking play, you looked back at her, watching as she sat herself against the pillows. “Well, are you going to join me?” She tilted her head, reaching an arm out for you. Not needing to be told twice, you crawled over to her and lay snug to her side. The Master chuckled, brushing her fingers through your hair. You couldn’t help but stare up at the woman, doe eyes flittering between her eyes and her lips.

“Do you want something, love?” She asked rhetorically, nails scratching at your nape. Getting shy, you shook your head and rolled over. Again, she laughed at your behaviour, shuffling down and pressing herself against your back. Tentatively, her hand slid up your hip and under the matching shirt.

“Don’t turn away from me, I enjoy seeing your pretty face. Especially when you’re blushing.” She spoke confidently, fingers gliding along the skin of your stomach. You bit your lip timidly, gazing back at her. There was a blistering smile on her face, tugging you to lay on your back before her hand slipping out, landing on your front. “That’s better.” The Master muttered, leaning down and giving you a chaste kiss. A whine slipped past your lips.

“That wasn’t a kiss.” You almost pouted, hardly noticing when she began to play with the buttons on your shirt.

“Oh, that wasn’t enough for you?” She inquired playfully, to which you shook your head fiercely. Unable to resist, The Master captured your lips in a deeper kiss, your hands finding purchase on her shoulders. Your lips moved in conjunction perfectly, the movie being drowned out in the background. She popped the bottom three buttons open, hand slithering back under the fabric. You gasped as her hand got higher, allowing The Blonde to escalate the kiss. A moan escaped as your tongues met, your fingers threading through her hair and tugging at it almost desperately. Somehow, she pulled back, trailing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck. Your head fell back as she nipped at the skin, leaving red marks in their wake.

“Such a tease.” She breathed, sinking her teeth into the sensitive area and leaving a dark bruise. Hissing in both pain and pleasure, you keened into her touch.

“Cute.” The Master smiled, looking down at you, proud of the state she had left you in. Carefully, she moved the both of you under the covers. Hooking her hands under your arms, she pulled you up onto the her chest and wrapped you in her warm embrace. You relaxed instantaneously, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck.

“Promise me you won’t kill Beth in the middle of the night?” You mumbled tiredly, hugging her waist comfortably. The Master huffed, drawing shapes onto your back.

“Fine. But only because I can’t bear the thought of leaving you.” Her response made you smile fondly, eyes closing feeling more content now. Falling silent, your mind started to drift off as you listened to the TV. Lowering the volume, The Master left it playing as you slept, making sure the duvet was shielding you from the cold. Having you sleep in her arms was a feeling she could definitely enjoy every night. With you, maybe she could even find the safety to fall asleep herself.

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #the master x reader #13th doctor x reader smut #doctor who x reader #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master #jodie whittaker #the doctor #doctor who imagine #dhawan!doctor

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wittyandobsessed · 2 days ago

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𝐀𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✓ May I request a Doctor Who story? The Master x idc what gender reader. (I honestly don't care which Master either xD, but if you need a specification, maybe Dhawan!Master?) My main idea is just the reader calling the Master cute. (Have you looked at them?! They're adorable!) So maybe the Master has just finished a plan of his (something evil. I like it when they're evil), and is just very happy. And the reader just can't hold it back anymore and just bursts forth with "You are SO adorable!" Or something like that 😅 I hope you like the idea and that it was specific enough 😂😅

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | The Master x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Sorry, but since I haven’t seen the seasons with the 13th Doctor, I’m not familiar with Dhawan’s Master. So I wrote it with Simm’s Master instead. I hope that’s okay with you!

▸ Masterlist

𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿!

The ground still shook with the aftershocks of what he had done.

Cracks split the concrete streets of Voltraxis Prime, smoke curled upward like dark fingers reaching toward the blood-orange sky, and in the center of it all, stood him. The Master. Hair wind-tossed, suit immaculate despite the chaos, and eyes glowing with a wild kind of triumph that sent chills skittering down your spine.

He was laughing. Loudly. Gleefully. The kind of laugh that echoed off the scorched buildings and made the surviving inhabitants tremble beneath whatever ruins they still crouched behind.

The planet had fallen. Not in days, not in hours—minutes. All according to his plan, every step of it unfolding like a perfectly choreographed dance of destruction. He had tricked the Doctor (again), rewired the planetary defense grid to self-implode, and taken control of the ruling council through a mix of persuasion, threats, and—because he couldn’t resist it—just a dash of theatrical flair.

And now, he was celebrating.

He paced back and forth across the broken remains of the plaza, coat flaring with each dramatic turn, arms gesturing in sweeping arcs as if conducting a mad symphony only he could hear. His voice rang out, thick with pride, rich with that electric energy he always carried when things went his way.

“I mean, really—did you see his face? Did you?” he shouted to no one in particular, before turning sharply to the side, eyes flashing. “All that superior Time Lord smugness just melted away like candle wax. Glorious!”

You leaned quietly against a cracked pillar, arms folded, lips quirked in something between a smirk and an indulgent smile. You weren’t hiding—he always knew where you were. But you liked watching him like this, unfiltered and alight with his own wicked success.

He hadn’t noticed you just yet—too caught up in his own mind, recounting every detail of his scheme aloud, basking in the memory of the Doctor’s stunned expression.

“Five seconds, just five, and he still didn’t get it. Honestly, what kind of hero—”

He paused mid-pace, head cocking slightly, as if feeling your gaze press gently against him. His eyes snapped toward you—and there it was: that split-second flicker of something tender, something human, beneath all the madness. Recognition. Affection.

A grin spread slowly across his face. Dangerous. Boyish. Infectious.

“Ah. There you are.” He strode toward you with purpose, that ever-present theatrical swagger in his step. “And here I thought I’d lost my favorite audience member.”

You chuckled under your breath. “You always know where I am.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Details. Irrelevant. You should’ve seen it from the beginning—it was poetry, honestly.”

With a flourish, he turned, gesturing grandly to the smoldering skyline as if it were a masterpiece he’d just painted.

“I orchestrated this—” his voice dropped into a conspiratorial tone, “—by whispering a single sentence into the Chancellor’s ear. Just one. A little idea, a gentle suggestion. A crack in the foundation. Then I just… watched.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What was the sentence?”

He leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I told him the Doctor had already chosen a side. That he’d made a deal with the Resistance.” His grin widened. “He panicked. Started second-guessing everyone. Power shifted. Allegiances cracked. I just gave it a… gentle push.”

You laughed, genuinely impressed despite yourself. “That’s awful.”

He looked delighted. “Isn’t it just?”

You let him go on. And oh, he did.

He recounted the entire sequence of his victory like it was a symphony only he could conduct—each beat, each crescendo, delivered with such vivid flair that it felt like you were watching the events unfold all over again. His voice, rich with excitement, danced through the thick air as he paced, words tumbling from his lips faster than his thoughts could catch up.

His hands moved constantly—painting scenes in the air, sketching invisible outlines of explosions, puppet-string betrayals, and the glorious moment the Doctor realized he’d been had. You knew most of the details already, having heard him plan it all over long nights filled with half-mad laughter and soft murmurs under starlight. But hearing it now, relived in the heat of his triumph, was something else entirely.

He was alive with it.

Eyes bright and blazing, darting from yours to the ruined skyline and back again. His coat flared behind him as he turned and spun in time with his words, every gesture exaggerated, theatrical, him. The way he spoke made you forget, for a moment, that this was chaos—that people were probably still screaming somewhere, that the Doctor was licking his wounds, that an entire planet had just been brought to its knees.

But that was always the Master’s way.

He made destruction beautiful. Made madness magnetic. Made you watch.

“—and then,” he was saying now, breathless with enthusiasm, “right when they thought they’d neutralized the override—I triggered the second layer. Oh, the look on his face—priceless, just—” he spun to face you directly, arms wide, eyes gleaming, “he actually gasped. Can you believe it? Gasped. Like he was in a bloody stage play.”

You were smiling—couldn’t help it. His energy was a storm and you were caught in the center, perfectly still, perfectly safe.

“And the Chancellor—oh, the poor man. Thought he still had a chance to negotiate. ‘We can make a deal,’” the Master mimicked in a pitiful voice, clutching his hands to his chest. “‘We can rebuild!’” Then he dropped the act, eyes lighting up with wicked joy. “So I rebuilt it for him. Into a pile of ash.”

He barked a laugh, breathless, then turned back to the horizon, arms raised in triumph.

You watched him—your mad, brilliant, terrifying lover—and without warning, the words slipped out before your brain could stop them.

“You are so adorable.”

Silence.

Immediate and absolute.

The Master froze mid-gesture, one hand still half-lifted, fingers curled like he’d just been about to snap them. His body locked up, spine straight, shoulders tense. He blinked once. Then again. Slowly. As though someone had unplugged his mind and it needed a second to reboot.

“…What?” he asked, voice oddly soft.

You shrugged, arms folded, a playful smile teasing at your lips. “You heard me.”

He stared at you, mouth parting like he was about to speak, but then thought better of it. You could see the wheels turning, trying to make sense of this affront to his villainous image.

“Adorable?” he echoed, as if testing the word and finding it poisonous.

You nodded. “Very.”

He sputtered. Actually sputtered. “I—I’m not adorable! I’m terrifying! I orchestrated the downfall of an entire planetary government before breakfast! I made the Doctor cry! I burned down a cathedral because I didn’t like the acoustics!”

You bit your lip to stop the laugh that wanted out. “Mhm. Very fearsome.”

“I am not cute!” he barked, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

And now you were laughing, full and unrestrained. “Oh, come on! You were just bouncing around like a kid on Christmas morning. Arms flailing, eyes sparkling, doing your little spinny-turns—”

“They’re intimidating turns!”

“—and your laugh,” you added, ignoring his interruption, “that little cackle you do when you think you’ve outsmarted everyone? It’s adorable.”

He looked personally offended. “It’s a maniacal laugh of doom!”

You stepped closer, slow and teasing, eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s high-pitched and you throw your head back like a cartoon villain. It’s so cute.”

The Master straightened, clearly attempting to salvage what little dignity he believed he had left. “Right,” he said firmly, adjusting his coat like it might reestablish his menace. “Let’s clear this up immediately. I am the Master. I’ve conquered solar systems. I’ve erased entire bloodlines. I am a walking nightmare.”

He swept his coat back dramatically, raised both arms toward the sky, and let out the most over-the-top, theatrical villain laugh you’d ever heard.

It echoed off the broken walls behind you. A flock of frightened birds scattered in the distance.

You just smiled.

“See? You’re doing it again.”

“What?!”

“The hands! You flail them when you’re excited. And the coat thing? You do that every time you want to be dramatic. It’s endearing.”

“It’s menacing!”

You snorted, closing the distance between you and resting a hand on his chest. His breath caught, just slightly—whether from annoyance or from the contact, you couldn’t say.

“You’re very good at being bad,” you said softly, “but sometimes you get this light in your eyes. Like you’re just so pleased with yourself. Like you’re having the time of your life causing mayhem. And yeah, it’s a little scary. But it’s also… cute.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“I—You—Stop saying that!” he snapped, a little breathless now.

You reached up slowly and, with the softest touch, tapped the tip of his nose.

His entire face scrunched in confusion.

“Especially when you do that,” you said, smiling wide. “That right there.”

“I will throw you into a wormhole,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his voice.

You chuckled, leaning in closer until your nose nearly brushed his. “You won’t.”

His hands came up instinctively, resting at your waist, like he’d forgotten his threats mid-sentence. His brow furrowed, clearly warring with himself—halfway between being cross and being absolutely, shamefully charmed.

“You’re the worst,” he murmured, not moving away.

“I’m your worst,” you corrected, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “And I happen to think the universe’s most dangerous man is also the universe’s most adorable.”

He groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours with a dramatic sigh. “This is ruining my image. People will talk.”

“Let them,” you whispered. “You’ll still be feared by billions.”

“And loved by one?” he asked, voice softer now, almost reverent.

You smiled. “Terrifyingly so.”

He sighed again, this one more resigned than dramatic.

Then, quietly, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like pride, defeat, and reluctant affection all at once.

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry

▸ Doctor Who

@alechardyssslut

#x reader #fem reader #anon ask #oneshot #reader insert #doctor who #tardis #the master doctor who #the master x reader #simm master

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apocalypticwafflekitten · 8 months ago

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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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yandereunsolved · 29 days ago

Note

Yandere Pre-War Master is a mix of classic villain and Gomez Addams.

The Doctor is far more unhinged. Mfer was capping people and sword duels the master.

Imagine the two idiots fighting in the middle of their plots, the Daleks and the British awkwardly standing on the side like "Are we interrupting?"

The current companion offering consolation to the Timelord Darling who might just regenerate from embarrassment. A dalek offers a handkerchief in mock kindness.

— Silly

Timelord Darling is standing at the side trying to fix the latest fuck-up of the two. All the while they're playing swords! For all of the galaxy's sake, why were you stuck with these two intelligent, obsessive morons.

( Yandere ) The Master is constantly trying to romance darling. He goes too far with it. To an extent it's terrifying, but there is also this allure. It's an inexpcible pull. Well, you could explain it. It just would take far too long. They'll have a rose in their teeth and someone's head on a pike, and you can't help but be attracted.

But he's The Master. You can't fall in love with them. You are disgusted (?) by him. Revolted (?) You can't quite pinpoint. Or maybe you're just scared to be in love with him. To be as obsessed as they are.

( Yandere ) The Doctor is just a whirlwind. One moment it's this and another it's that. You are always on the cusp of another adventure with him (even if you don't want to). Everyone fears him with the exception of The Master. Even the Daleks hesitate to get near you because of The Doctor's wrath. Sometimes he's a ball of fun and other times he's sly (manipulative―borderline evil).

But he's The Doctor. He helps people. He can't be all that bad, right?

Together, they are an unstoppable yandere duo.

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hauntingcryptids · 7 months ago

Text

Back In The Old Cemetery

Dhawan!Master x Reader - Previous Gomez!Master x Reader

Summary - On the anniversary of Missy’s death, you go to a nearby cemetery in order to remember and honour Missy in some way. However, you keep running into a random man throughout the day who seems determined to talk to you.

Based On This Request - Anonymous said - “Recently read “Did You Miss Me?” on your old blog, honestly amazing. If you’re open to it, may I request a similar scenario between Dhawan!Master x Reader? Maybe where they reunite for the first time after Missy’s death and admit they both still love each other despite the regeneration?”

Warnings - canon typical violence, references to season 10, descriptions of character death, romantic loss, sadness/depression, let me know if I missed anything and I will add it

Word Count - 4593

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader (but is referenced to own and be comfortable with wearing makeup). Requested by this lovely anon! Use of Y/n. Proofread but not beta read. I hope that you enjoy this! :)

This is loosely inspired by Hunter’s Moon by Ghost, primarily the second verse and just other Ghost songs and their vibe because I am obsessed with them.

Also, I’m sorry that this took so long. I was not having a great past couple of years. But I really appreciate the love for my old series(which I am slowly rewriting) and thank you so much for this request! I really hope that you enjoy this! :)

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You felt like you were being watched. You had been feeling this way for a while now, at least for the past couple of months. You just chalked it up to a bout of heightened anxiety, however, due to the camera-filled and 24/7 news cycle-filled world that you now reluctantly called home. Life was so much simpler on The Master’s TARDIS.

It was ironic that her space was so calming given the nature of The Master and her chaotic lifestyle, but Missy’s ship was. The previous life and relationship you had with her always quelled any latent anxiety you felt about your home planet and people. Your life, alone on Earth, without The Master could never compare to the time you spent with her. Without Missy, you only became more aware of how miserable Earth could be at times. And despite her disdain for the majority of Humanity, you could tolerate your people more effortlessly with Missy’s help than you ever could manage without her presence in your life. She helped you with so much, but now she was gone forever.

You never properly entertained the thought that you were actually being followed, but as Missy had told you often, you were naively unaware of your ability to attract curious eyes. Missy had meant that as a compliment, despite the ominous tone. That is how she became fascinated with you, after all; by observing your quirks and interests from afar until she finally made herself known to you. You were simply just anxious without Missy. Simply anxious about being in a messy world without your person to help you sort out the mess. You weren’t actually being followed, right? The Doctor, even though you weren’t close, would step in, wouldn’t she? Especially after what happened to The Master and how the news affected you, right? You were just anxious, is all.

But if you were being followed, it wouldn’t be Missy playing a little trick on you. It couldn’t be her. She’s gone and she would never be coming back for you. The likelihood is that either your imagination was getting to you, or an enemy of either The Doctor or The Master was out to get you. Or it was just some random human being a creep. But it definitely wasn’t Missy. She died: that’s what The Doctor told you. Missy died alone and without you there to save or comfort her. And you knew The Doctor wasn’t lying about the fact that Missy was gone forever because she would have come to reunite herself with you if she was alive. But again, Missy died. You had to keep reminding yourself of that fact: Missy is dead. She’s gone. She’s never coming to save you. Ever again.

Today was the anniversary of when the newly regenerated Doctor informed you of the tragic news that Missy had died. The sentimentalist in you needed to mourn today, however, your plans to celebrate Missy’s memory added to your anxiety. You needed to honour Missy for yourself, but what if there was someone out there in your town, or the world, or the universe trying to get you? Today would be the perfect opportunity for an enemy to hurt you when you were already emotional and susceptible.

Eventually, though, you did convince yourself to leave your apartment. Today was for Missy, after all, not you. When the date caught your attention a couple of weeks ago, the first step of your plan was to go to Missy’s old Human job from when you first met. You would be torturing yourself by doing this, but you needed to purchase two bouquets of flowers. After purchasing your mournful bounty, you would walk to the nearest cemetery. Then, at the cemetery, you would leave one bouquet in remembrance of your beloved Master while taking the other bouquet home with you to memorialise Missy there as well. You even considered preserving it so you could have an idol of memories for longer.

Looking back on your history with The Master, it was probably an incredibly bleak omen for your relationship with her, but during Missy’s lunch breaks and on your travels home from work, the two of you would stride through the little parklike cemetery just around the corner from the shopping centre. Both of you would always be incredibly surprised by how beautiful the cemetery was; there was an assortment of trees that would offer ample shade to the gravestones and there was a winding cobblestone path fenced by flowers throughout. There was also a tall, cleanly cut hedge that bordered the whole property, alongside the iron gates delicately surrounding the cemetery.

Missy genuinely loved that little cemetery. Before you knew that she was an alien, she would often say that this cemetery was the most beautiful thing on Earth, other than you. You always asked her how she could possibly know every place on the planet, to which she would only wink at you teasingly. After discovering her true nature, her statement made more sense but you still wondered why this cemetery was so special to Missy. She could travel anywhere she wished, in all time and space. It never failed to shock you that The Master, the infamous rogue Gallifreyian, would treasure such a simple place. So where else you would go to mournfully celebrate her beautifully chaotic life? In your mind, there was no other option.

When you walked toward the small town shopping centre where Missy cemented her Human facade, you wrapped your coat tighter around your torso. You were cold, yes, but you needed something to hold onto to brave all of the resurfacing memories. You sighed deeply when you entered the shop and then briskly moved to the shop's mediocre selection of flowers without looking up from your feet.

The flower options and pre-arranged bouquets always looked more expensive and put together, even well into the winter, when Missy was working here. All of the bouquets she gave you were of the best quality.

“Never less than the best for you, my love,” Missy would always respond with this line when you complained that you didn’t need anything fancy.

Missy might have lied about buying flowers from this little shop, now that you thought about it. But you would rather choose to believe that Missy manipulated her “superiors” into buying and displaying more expensive bouquets and flowers to enhance the reputation of the place rather than her lying to you.

“Excuse me?” A voice sounded to your side, tearing you away from your thoughts of Missy. You turned sharply to the person trying to get your attention. He was a man a couple of inches taller than Missy with mesmerising dark amber, mixed with coffee and chocolate, eyes that were filled with care. He was wearing a button-down, slacks, and a heavy-looking deep purple coat, which seemed a bit out of place given the weather hadn’t turned properly cold yet. Maybe the man just ran cold?

“I think you dropped this.” The man held out a case of lipstick, intending to return it to you. You were shocked, still disoriented from being ripped out of your thoughts. You accepted the lipstick with a curt ‘thank you’, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through you when your hand accidentally brushed against the stranger’s fingers.

You immediately turned back to the display of bouquets before you, gripping the case of lipstick tightly in your hand. You had assumed that the man had left to either look around the shop or to leave, but to your horror, he continued to stand beside you. He returned your item. So, why hadn't he left yet? You just wanted him to leave your side. You didn’t want to interact with anyone more than you had to today. Today was too horrible for you to pretend to be friendly with strangers.

“Looking for anything specific?” The man asked after an agonising silence from the two of you just standing side by side in front of the flower display. He didn’t sound creepy like many people, usually men, sounded in situations like this, making you believe that he was actually curious. Even if he had good intentions, that didn’t dissolve your desire to be left alone, but you tried to be as nice as you could today.

“Something respectful. Not gaudy or obnoxiously and obviously meant to be gifted as an attempt to woo a Tinder match on a first date.”

“So like, cemetery flowers?” You whipped your head back to look at the stranger because of that question. Could he see your plan on your face or in your posture? How could he tell what your intentions were? The stranger shrugged his shoulders, almost as if he heard your thoughts.

“Yes, cemetery flowers.”

“These are quite smart. Whoever you are planning on visiting would love to have these on their grave.” The man plucked a bouquet wrapped in dark red wrapping from the shelf. The bouquet consisted primarily of fresh crimson roses and red salvia, with sprigs of baby’s breath and forget-me-nots to round out the assortment. When they were in shadow, the roses practically looked like dried blood, which thanks to Missy you knew what that looked like a bit too well.

You paused, sucked in a breath, shocked by the man’s forward nature. Then you quickly grabbed the flowers, shoved the lipstick into your coat pocket and moved to purchase the bouquet without another word being given to the stranger. You hoped that the man would have left the store by the time you had finished purchasing the flowers, however, he stopped you once again by the exit of the shop.

“I hope you have a good time at the cemetery.” He said, smiling, as if this was an everyday occurrence, but, like before, you didn’t respond. You rushed out of the shop so overcome with a torrent of emotions. You just needed to get out of there. You didn’t even realise until you were far away from the shops and the stranger that you failed to choose a second bouquet for yourself. You hoped that the second bouquet would be one similar to the ones Missy would gift to you, but because of that strange man part of your plan for the day was ruined. You would have to go back to the shops tomorrow.

Eventually, you slowed to a meditative walking pace on your way to the cemetery. After many deep breaths, you managed to decrease and steady your erratic breath and rapid heart rate. You tried to forget your interaction with the stranger and just refocus your mind on Missy: the good, the bad, the happy and the sad, all of your time with her. You just wanted to be surrounded by the memory of your lover, in general, but also to remember her existence in the most reverent way possible. Even though the weight of her memory was a heavy burden to carry, you had to do this for her.

Halfway to the cemetery, the moon emerged from its hiding spot behind a cloud. It was still light out, but the full specialness of the day became apparent to you. The orangy-red hue of the night’s Hunter’s Moon was soft but you imagined that it would darken and grow deeper in tone the longer it hung in the evening air into the night. Apparently, even your solar system wanted to help you mourn the loss of Missy.

Along with cemeteries, Missy loved abnormal moons. She would always drag you out of your apartment or plead with you to retrieve her from The Vault in a basement at St. Luke’s University so the two of you could go stargazing, or moongazing as it were. She loved Hunter’s Moons in particular, both because of the season they appeared in, but also because of the eerie atmosphere.

You finally entered the cemetery through the tall and squeaky black gates that enclosed the cemetery just as it was beginning to grow dark outside. After walking along the pathway for a few minutes, you saw the familiar bench where you and Missy would always sit.

Once you took a seat on the bench, you looked around the large, enclosed, cemetery. It had been a little over a year since you had been here last and you realised how much you missed this place. It truly was beautiful, in the gloomy and bittersweet way that many cemeteries were, but beautiful nonetheless.

You wished that you could have something tangible to remember Missy’s death and life. A trinket or object of Missy’s that would now be yours. Like all of the families that had loved ones buried in this place, they had something more tangible than you did. You wanted what they had. Even though death is never easy, their situations were easier to comprehend than yours. Missy died on a spaceship in the future galaxies away from Earth. You had nothing left of her and it felt as if nothing ever happened because of it.

Suddenly, you remembered the lipstick that the stranger had returned to you. You removed it from the pocket you had hidden it in in the rush of everything. You stared at the lipstick, curiously. The item definitely wasn’t yours. It looked like the one Missy would always use. But how could the stranger have this? Was Missy’s lipstick in your coat pocket this entire time? That didn’t make sense. You had worn this coat before and the lipstick wasn’t in any of the pockets. Not to mention the fact that Missy never went anywhere without her lipstick. It was unlikely that she would ever ask you to carry it for her.

You stared at the lipstick in your palm and reminisced about a random night when Missy was trapped on Earth. It was the night of a Hunter’s Moon, just like the one you sat under tonight. The Doctor graciously allowed Missy to leave The Vault for a night so the two of you could celebrate your anniversary.

The two of you went to a fancy restaurant that was far too expensive for you, but Missy took care of the bill as it was meaningless. Given her motto, any expense might have been excusable to The Master if you were the one asking for or needing something. After your meal, you somehow convinced Missy to go to a club. You bribed her by stating that she had never been to a Human club before. So why not go to one with you? Finally, the two of you drunkenly stumbled through your favourite cemetery under the light of the blood-orange moon while sharing a bottle of Asgardian mead that Missy had apparently stolen from the halls of Valhalla. At the time, you didn’t know whether or not to believe her because of how drunk she was, she easily could have been exaggerating. You later asked The Doctor about her story and to your delight, and The Doctor’s embarrassment, the story was real and unembellished.

You and Missy had briefly stopped at the bench you were now sitting on. You probably wouldn’t have recognised the bench after your drunken night out except for the fact that Missy carved your and her names onto the arm of the bench. Your names were intertwined in typical Gallifreyian marriage writing, where the names are entwined together to signify the bond between those in the relationship.

Despite the momentary rest, you had to beg Missy to return to The Vault that day because you were cold and your feet hurt. Missy never wanted that night to end but you promised to cuddle her for at least two hours before leaving for your apartment. You wished that you could stay, but The Doctor hadn’t allowed you to stay the night in The Vault.

After much convincing, your stubborn alien lover eventually agreed to your deal. Before leaving the cemetery though, Missy reapplied her lipstick and then kissed you all over your face and neck. You had to return Missy to The Vault in that state, much to The Doctor’s disgust. It was a great memory and a great day that you wished you could replicate with Missy. It saddened you to no end that you would never be able to do that, though. The Master was dead.

“May I sit here?” The voice of a man broke you out of your haze. No, not any man, the man. The stranger from the little shop that Missy used to work at was standing beside the empty seat on the bench.

“Did you follow me?” You shot back, angrier than you intended because he tore you away from Missy again. But this was all just too strange to not be angry about.

“Would a normal person follow a stranger into a cemetery?”

“No, but whoever said that you were a normal person?”

“What’s the fun in being normal?” The man crossed his arms with a smirk. You turned away in order to hide your slight smile. He was fun, you had to give him that, even though it upset you to admit this.

“People might trust you more.” You said after you regained your composure.

“The only person I want to trust me is you.” Again, you were shocked by the man and his forwardness, which appeared to be becoming a regular occurrence.

“Are you chatting me up in a cemetery?”

“Is it working?” The man’s smirk grew confidently and part of you just couldn’t resist his smile. You sighed defeatedly. You scooted over a bit on the bench to be closer to the carved arm and to allow enough space for the stranger to sit comfortably. You looked up to the moon as the man sat down. The Hunter’s Moon was now a deep orange with tones of red around the edges. There was another strange silence haunting the air between the two of you, until the man ruined it. You were starting to become used to this stranger’s habit of randomly breaking silences.

“Are you here for someone?” He sounded kinder, softer, than he did what asking you questions at the shop.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s because you’re interesting.” The man bumped your shoulder with his. You hummed sceptically. This man, though intriguing, was like no person you ever met. He didn’t seem to care about social norms or what society deemed to be acceptable. Who else would flirt in a cemetery? Well, Missy would, but she was an alien.

“I’m kind of here for someone, yes. Their body isn’t here, but I like coming here, or any other cemetery really, to remember my person. I haven’t been to this cemetery in a while though, memories and all that, but I knew that I needed to be here tonight. What about you?”

“Yes, I’m here for someone, too.”

“I’m sorry.” You meant this genuinely. You didn’t know the man beside you and he had a propensity for behaving in an unorthodox manner, but he was still a person. You knew how hard it was to lose someone and you would never want to belittle someone’s grief. You locked eyes with this stranger for the first time since the moment in the little shop and held his gaze. You found it to be bizarre to feel so connected to a stranger but here you were talking to this man about Missy. You barely even talked about her to your best friends.

“There is no need for you to apologise, love. You weren’t the one to rip me away from the person I care about the most.” He bumped your shoulder again. Given the fact that you were facing each other now, you couldn’t take the intensity of being so close to the man. So, you looked away, flustered.

“Wow, I never thought I would have so much in common with a stranger in a cemetery.” You joked. You leaned over the arm of the bench slightly to move away from the man. You didn’t want to disgrace The Master’s memory in any way; it would be best to keep this stranger at a distance. To comfort yourself, you ran your hand over the carving Missy made, trying to commit the pattern to your mind to the best of your ability.

“You never know, you could meet the love of your life anywhere. A little shop, for instance.” The man still sounded positive despite your slightly uncomfortable demeanour. You liked this man, but you were worried that you were disrespecting Missy by even entertaining the idea of seeing someone else. How could you even be with someone else after The Master?

“Yeah, a little shop meet cute …” You traced the carving again absentmindedly while staring at the moon and the clouds passing over it. But the man once again distracted you from your sadness, though it wasn’t because of something he said like the many, many times before. Instead, the stranger pulled out a pocket watch that looked suspiciously too familiar.

“Where did you get that?” You grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled his hand, and inadvertently him, closer to you in order to inspect the watch. It was old, properly old, not just decorated to look like an antique. It looked identical to The Master’s watch.

“Oh this, I’ve always had it. Since I was a child, an orphan, abandoned, found in the storm.” Missy had told you stories about her past, one of which was when she, he then, had been hiding in a Human form at the end of the Universe. You turned the watch over in the man’s hand and saw the circular Gallifreyian carved into the back of the object. You tentatively ran your finger over the writing, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“This is not possible.” You croaked, still looking at the watch in the man’s steady hand. How could the man beside you have Missy’s watch? Unless they survived. Unless she regenerated. But The Doctor said they died. She was certain that they died and would not be returning. Could The Master really be alive?

“Y/n, love, anything is possible.” The man whispered in your ear as you felt him move and place his arm around your back. He softly rubbed circles on your back but you didn’t feel it. You felt like your world was spinning and nothing was certain any more.

“It’s not you. It can’t be.” You shook your head. This couldn’t be possible. Your grip on the man’s watch and hand tightened when you finally looked up at him, scared. When you looked into his eyes, that’s when you began crying. He looked so worried for you, but there was hope and love laced into the look he gave you. You shook your head, still not convinced that The Master was really stilling beside you, holding you. But The Master nodded and smiled.

“It’s really me, darling. I swear on lipstick and Asgardian mead. Nothing in this Universe, any Universe, could ever keep me away from you.” The Master wanted to wipe your tears from your face, but before he could you jumped into The Master’s arms and practically knocked him over into the other arm of the bench due to the force of your hug.

“Master, is it really you?” You asked into his shoulder, not able to control the crazy mix of joy and sadness you felt.

“Of course it’s me, darling. You didn’t really think that I would just leave you on this miserable planet alone, did you?” The Master caressed the back of your head and every so often placed a kiss on the side of your face.

“But how? The Doctor said -” You shoved yourself away from The Master wanting a clear answer, but he cut off your excited questioning.

“The Doctor is often wrong, especially about me.” The Master smiled and winked at you triumphantly. You let out an ecstatic noise that you had never made before in your life and hurled yourself into The Master for another bruising hug.

“Can we go home now?” You mumbled into The Master’s purple coat.

“We?” The Master asked hesitantly.

“Yes, why not we?” You pulled back from The Master again with a worried look written on your face. You couldn’t help but be a bit worried after everything. The Master had just returned to you, you didn’t want to lose him again so soon.

“You aren’t bothered by my new form?” The Master questioned while gesturing to himself.

“No, you’re still The Master. You’re still my Master.” The Master smirked before leaning close to you. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew that I loved you for a reason.”

“I love you so much. And I’ve missed you so much, Master.”

“Well, no more missing me. We are together now and nothing is going to rip me away from you ever again, and you are right, we should go home. It has been far, far, too long.” The Master removed himself from your arms and stood from the bench. He held his hand out for you, wiggling his fingers enthusiastically. You gladly accepted his offer and then proceeded to interlock your fingers.

“Before we get to my TARDIS, I should warn you that the ship looks quite different to how you will remember it.” The Master informed you as the two of you walked down the cobblestone path toward the gates of the cemetery.

“That’s okay.” You said into The Master’s shoulder as you braced your body against his to withstand the massive gust of wind that blew through the gates of the cemetery. The rest of autumn appeared like it was going to be a cold one.

“Really? You’re comfortable with everything being so different. I thought that you would be having a more difficult time with this.” The Master shed his coat and placed it around your shoulders.

“Change is easier with you, Master. And I would rather have you in my life in a different form than not in my life at all.” You cuddled into the rouge alien’s coat. He, like his previous regeneration, smelled of smoke and whiskey. Missy also smelled like cranberries, whereas this new regeneration of The Master slightly smelled like cinnamon in combination with the whiskey and smoke.

“My previous regeneration would have made fun of your sentimentality, but this regeneration loves the attention.”

“Good! There is a year’s worth of affection that you missed out on.”

When the two of you reached the door of The TARDIS, which now appeared as a large home rather than Missy’s preferred look of a wardrobe, The Master stopped you and caressed a hand down your face. His eyes, though very different than Missy’s, displayed the same devotion and love for you. Things change, but at the same time, everything stays. The Master was still your Master, just in a different package. And you still loved them, no matter what they looked like.

The Master finally leant forward and captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with all the love and longing he held for you, as the night’s Hunter’s Moon cast a warm glow upon the two of you. There will be so much adjustment ahead of you both, but you know that you will be able to succeed and overcome the difficulties to come as long as you and The Master are together.

#ghost's posts #fanfiction #my writing #doctor who #x reader #doctor who x reader #the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #gomez!master #gomez!master x reader #missy x reader #missy

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lanawinterscigarettes · 1 year ago

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You, flirting with The Master/Missy as a distraction: So, is there, like, anyone else in the picture, or...?

The Doctor, whispering furiously from where they'd been trying to sneak past: What the hell are you doing? You're supposed the be distracting them, not flirting with them!

You, whispering back, making no attempt to hide your annoyance: Can't I do both?!

#this suddenly came to me and I thought it was funny so I'm sharing it with everyone #doctor who #the doctor #the master #the doctor x reader #the master x reader #tenth doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #simm!master #missy doctor who #gomez!master #dhawan!master #dhawan!doctor #whittaker!master #doctor who incorrect quotes #mosses random thoughts

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cxsper69 · 2 years ago

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he grabbed your thighs and pulled you close, edging you further onto his tongue. ' ' taste so fuckin' good' baby, th's pretty pussy all f'me ' ' he grunted into you, nose rubbing off your sensitive and overstimmed clit. lining kisses up your slits, one by one, teasing you for what seemed like ages. ' ' y'ready f'me? Ready f'daddy baby? ' ' when his eyes met yours he shoved two digits in without warning, before re entering his tongue into bliss for another hour.

- gojo satoru

- kisuke urahara

- the master

- stu macher

- fp jones

- damon salvatore

#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #kisuke #urahara #kisuke urahara x reader #the master #the master x reader #stu macher #stu #stu macher x reader #fp #fp jones #fp jones x reader #damon #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader

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simp-for-the-masters · 7 months ago

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i want the master to call me a good boy so bad :((

Delgado!Master: calls you good boy after you complete a task for him

Ainley!Master: calls you a good boy when you help lead someone into a trap for him

Simm!Master: calls you good boy cause it's fun to see you flustered,it's his newest pastime

Missy: calls you good boy with a head pat and kiss on the cheek, both condescending and genuine

Dhawan!Master: calls you good boy with the growl of his

#the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #missy x reader #simm!master x reader #ainley!master x reader #delgado!master x reader

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buggyboba · 7 days ago

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Reader: -Begging the master's tardis to let them go.- Master's tardis: 💅I don't speak human English. She just doesn't want to let reader go. A diva.

#buggy talks #the master x reader #doctor who x reader #missy x reader #dhawan!master x reader #gomez!master x reader #simm!master x reader #missy x fem!reader

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how-masterful · 7 months ago

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Body and Blood

Dhawan!Master X Reader

Summary: The Master is desperate for you to sink your teeth into him. Literally.

Notes: Wow... does this feel weird! I can only apologise for my lack of fics, please chalk it up to creative frustration on my part! But if there's anything that can inspire me, it's the spooky season. Please enjoy this light bite of a fic, and I hope to drop a few more before the countdown begins on the 18th! It's good to be back! Also please be aware, as the title suggests, there will be blood!

This fic is inspired by something I wrote for the 31 fics of fright series- there's no need to read that one before this, but it's a good companion fic to this one if you like fangs! Find that fic HERE

Sharpened claws cradled the warm flesh of the Master's jaw. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, the accelerated beat of a double pulmonary system, a rhythmic thumping of four. The Master let out a quiet groan, his tongue swiping over parted lips as he exhaled.

Your other hand found purchase on his wrist, your thighs trapping his body against the rumpled covers of the bed, his half-hard cock still buried deep inside from your last round. He shifted beneath you, his hips lightly bucking to bring you closer, his free hand supporting your lower back.

The Master was working on instinct. His body was craving your own once more, despite being utterly spent.

“That's it...” You whispered against his throat, before placing a gentle peck to his skin. The Timelord grunted in reply, his lashes blinking against his cheeks as you lay a teasing trail of kisses down his neck.

“Give yourself to me this time.”

His skin was fire, an inferno contained within a man, his fingers splaying across your hip as he settled further into your hold. You could feel the tension melt from his muscles with each kiss and peck, his resistance to submit unraveling like yarn in your palms. Adjusting your hold upon his throat, you allowed your teeth to rake against the pulsating vein, teasing the skin with your tongue. The Master shivered, head falling back against your grip as a meek moan escaped him.

“Yes, love” He pleaded, making no attempt to hide his desperation.

It was wonderfully pathetic watching him fall apart beneath you- his mammoth, audacious bravado melting under the threat of your teeth in his skin. In the distant corner of the room the radio continued to crackle, REO Speedwagon crooning from the speakers. They were right, the Master was unable to fight the feeling anymore- allowing himself to give you everything without even lifting a finger was utterly irresistible. Now it was his turn to be touched, caressed, held like a precious jewel and broken like a treasured toy.

“Do you want this?” You purred, sickly sweet.

The Master's eyes had fluttered shut long before, his head nodding as he gave a heavy exhale. You teased the vein on his neck once again with your teeth, giving a series of nips to the flesh and watching his panting falter.

“Do you?”

He hastily nodded once more. You clenched your thighs around his middle, softly grinding against his growing erection, your thumb rising from his jaw to caress across his cheek. His eyes dared to open, pupils blown and hazy.

“Do you want me?”

You whispered, half in play, half in earnest.

The Master, a titan of malice, a renegade monster, the quintessence of evil, whimpered.

He whimpered like a mewling kitten, bucking his hips once again and pulling you back down against his body, encouraging you to push yourself further onto his cock.

“Always,” He promised, “Forever.”

The sound of your pleased hum was a symphony to his senses, the sudden rush of wonder drowning his self control as you sunk your teeth into his neck, your tongue lapping at the thin sheen of sweat as you sucked a deep red mark into his skin. You bit hard, enough to draw a single line of blood, the crimson leaking down the contours of his neck. The master growled, a deeply pleased rumble as your tongue licked it up, streaking the deep maroon across your teeth.

Your eyes met his and he took in the scene- Your lips red and swollen, gaze deadly and sublime. He suddenly pulled his hand from your iron grip, grasping tight at the back of your head, sinking his own claws into your hair. A hiss spat from your lips, eyes widening in anticipation as the Master yanked your head backwards, angling your neck towards himself and pulling your throat to his lips.

He made no effort to tease, to set the mood or build up speed, his tongue swirling over the skin the only warning as he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck. You let out a desperate yelp, feeling the warm trickle of blood begin to flow towards your shoulder- but the Masters tongue was there to clean up the mess long before it could reach.

Once more meeting your eyes, the Master bared his teeth, your own sanguine streaked upon his smile, the adoring grin of a victorious predator. You bared your own teeth, bloodied and vile, the Timelords hearts thundering in tandem with your own as he pulled your lips to meet his.

Rough and coordinated, skilled yet blinded by mad lust, the Master took you upon the bed once more, the pair of you clawing against each other's already marred skin as you satiated your insatiable appetites.

It was vicious, and it was honest, snatching your breath and leaving you panting against his chest, his hearts beating beneath your temple in a rapturous applause.

“We should probably get rid of it soon.” You whispered after a while, fingertips idly tracing the heart you'd drawn upon his chest.

The Master hummed in consideration, one arm curled around your middle, the other tenderly playing with your hair, his cock still inside you as you lay in his embrace.

“It’s looking at me funny. And it’s attracting flies.”

The Master's eyes finally pulled from your lips to glance at the body in the chair, the radio beside it still crackling aging ballads into the night. The body had stiffened long ago, its head lolling back on its shoulders as its mouth gaped open, a lonely fly buzzing around its face. It settled upon a glazed eyeball, rubbing its front legs together as it crawled across the bloodied, bulging pupil.

The Master nodded in agreement. He reached across towards the nightstand, taking purchase of the TCE. In an instant the body, once stiff and decaying, was nothing but a shrunken doll. The Master let the device slip from his hand, the golden box joining the shrunken body on the floor as it clattered to the ground, his own body falling back into place as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

#I really hope you guys like this one #short n sweet n spooky #doctor who #bbc doctor who #the master #bbc #dhawan!master #sacha dhawan #sacha!master #spymaster #dhawan!master x reader #x reader #the master x reader

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noforkingclue · 5 months ago

Note

Hey could I please request a Dhawan!Master x reader with the dialogue "Oh don't worry. A little bit of Hypnosis never hurt anybody."

Have a great day

Of course anon! I did go slightly darker with this fic.

Hope you like it :)

Title: Giving In

Warnings: kidnapping, wanted hypnotism

You swallowed thickly as you looked up at the Master. He gave you a manic grin as he knelt down to your level. You were determined not to show any fear in front of him. That was what he wanted after all- for you to cower by his feet.

But you knew you shouldn’t look into his eyes.

Those beautiful, beautiful eyes that were wasted on a man like him.

Someone as evil as him shouldn’t have eyes like that.

“Love.”

Or a voice like that. That soothing voice that he didn’t deserve.

“Look at me, love.”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s not polite to not look at someone when they’re speaking to you.”

“Since when have you been polite to me?”

“Haven’t I? You’re still alive aren’t you?”

You glared at his feet, not daring to look up any further. You heard him sigh and walk around his TARDIS. You could practically see the pose and expression on his face, despite not looking up. Hands behind his back, mock disappointment

“Do you know why I took you?” he asked

“To piss off the Doctor.”

“Ah well, an added bonus.”

“So that wasn’t the reason? Seemed to be in the past.”

Ok, so this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d kidnapped you. Out of the Doctor’s companions, you were the person who’d spent the most time with the bastard. So he had an element of charm about him, well, at least to you. He definitely threatened you the least.

And sometimes, on the very odd occasion, you could’ve sworn he was actually flirting with you. If you could call threatening to kill you while telling you how beautiful you looked covered in your own blood, flirting.

Timelords.

“Why do you want me to look at you?” you asked

“I think you know that. For a human, you’re not a stupid as you look.”

“Thanks.”

You could see him walk over and he grabbed your chin. Quickly, you shut your eyes as he tilted your chin back. He leant down, brushing his cheek against yours. His beard scratched your cheek and you felt his breath fan across your cheek.

“It’ll be painless,” he said softly, his voice like honey, “you’ll feel so good.”

“No it won’t.”

"Oh don't worry. A little bit of Hypnosis never hurt anybody."

“Maybe not physically but mentally it will.”

“Only if you resist and you’re not going to resist me are you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Why? Oh wait, let me guess, because I’m evil. The Doctor has told you all about me so of course you now know every little detail about me.”

“She’s told us enough.”

The Master cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheek bones. You kept your eyes firmly shut and he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. You shuddered as you felt his breath fan across your face and you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said,

“I could make you open those beautiful eyes of yours. I could make you do so many things and then,”

He broke off with a dark chuckle,

“And then I’ll make you forget so we can do this over and over again. So unless you want things to hurt, to really hurt, I’d suggest you open your eyes.”

And so you did.

#fanfiction #doctor who #reader insert #request #the master #dhawan!master #the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader

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fxlling13 · 4 months ago

Text

Amethyst Haze

Dh!Master x fem!reader

Wc:5.8k

Warnings:rude aunty, awkward family moments, bullying behaviour. Alcohol

Synopsis: the master pays you a surprise visit multiple times <3

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"How about a planet entirely made out of amethyst?" Cocky as ever, The Doctor looked at you and Yaz

excitedly. “I say entirely. Obviously there’s some brick, and stone, and cement. So it’s more seventy-perfect amethyst. But you get the picture.” She carried on, correcting herself slightly. It did sound interesting though, and you guys hadn’t tried a new planet in a while. The girl beside you grinned, folding her arms comfortably.

"Sounds great!" Yaz beamed, glancing at you as you nod in agreement.

"I’ll love it. Purple is my favourite colour." The others looked at you in shock. Surely it was obvious, you had dyed your hair a deep plum colour recently.

"Is it? I wonder if that’s why, oh well. ready?" The doc spoke, pulling down on the lever beside her. Neither of you questioned her half finished statement.

———

As predicted, the planet was extremely beautiful. With soaring towers made from the pretty gem and buildings just the same. Roads of purple brick lined the streets, and even the royal guards donned that colour uniform. How did you know that? Well, apparently, your group were trespassing on an important festivity of the people. They had you locked up the second you were spotted. You hadn’t even been there an hour, only just getting into the city centre. Two guardsmen grabbed you, harshly taking you into the capitol building and down several floors. All three of you were thrown into an absolutely freezing cell, and told you’d be let out once the celebration was over. Once down there, it came as a shock to find you were not the only ones caught out of place. Furthermore, The Doctor looked baffled to find The Master pacing up and down. Now, you and Yaz were watching the timelords arguing. The blonde just couldn't believe that he was there in peace.

"I swear. I have no ill-intent." He sighed, throwing his head back against the wall. The master was across the room from you, leaving a hearty gap. As The Doctor was thinking of a good interrogation strategy, you made eye contact, and you smiled at him genuinely. To your surprise, he returned it. In your many encounters with the renegade timelord, you had honestly never been scared of him. Usually, he just made you laugh, somehow keeping you out of harms way.

"So, if you're not here to steal?" The doctor started, determined to get the truth out.

"Nope." He responded boredly.

"Raise an army?"

"No."

"Take over the Palace?"

"No."

"Kill the royal family?"

"No, Doctor!"

"Then why are you here?"

"To buy a present!" Eyes wide, you all stared at The Master completely shocked. That was unexpected. Smiling to yourself, you pat the empty space next to you. Yaz looked at you in question, but you just shrugged.

"I dont think he's going to kill us. Relax." As you finished talking, The Master hummed and sat beside you. Opposite, The Doctor was watching him like a hawk. Exchanging a look of amusement, yaz sighed before joining her girlfriend.

"You're buying someone a gift?" The blonde asked, unconvinced.

"Yep." He nod casually, eyes scanning the area as if searching for something. Your teeth were beginning to chatter quietly.

"Why here? There's whole planet's dedicated to shopping centres and gift giving." Rolling his eyes, The Master just stared at The Doctor blankly. As if her question was dumb.

"Well, the person I'm buying for really likes a certain colour that’s readily available here on Purpuartica." Sweet, he was clearly very considerate. Maybe he kept that part of him to himself.

"You mean yourself?" Yaz's comment made everyone laugh. Even the man next to you scoffed lightly.

"No. Though I admit, she does have taste." He thought aloud, nodding in approval to no one in particular. As per usually, he was wearing his long tweed, purple coat. With the same colour waistcoat and shirt. More importantly, you noticed.

"Oh, a she?" You teased, hugging your knees tightly. It was getting exceptionally cold in there. Looking at you, he chuckled and gave a short shrug.

"Yes, why?" Grinning, you shivered lightly, trying to block out your environment.

"No reason." The Doctor watched you talking, realisation slowly dawning on her. He was so calm, so collected. Letting herself smile, she folded her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t feeling the cold like you and Yaz were.

"Didn’t take you to settle for anything less than yourself?" Turning to her, The Master sighed bitterly. He should have known she'd figure it out, but there was no need for the insinuated insult.

"She isn’t less than me, and you know that." He shot back, brows raised.

"I know, but think of the age gap!" She mocked his former self, making him roll his eyes. Giving the couple a pointed look, she deflated slightly. Looking out the tiny window, The Doctor frowned as a gust of wind blew in. The walls around the cell frosted over dramatically, and your arms tugged your knees closer to your chest. Giving the air a sonic, The Doctor let out a perturbed noise.

"This isn't good. I hadn't planned to stay this long. It's only going to get colder." Next to her, yaz shook in her spot, cheeks deepening in colour. Instantly, the doc pulled her coat off and wrapped it around her, fastening it up. Yaz moved closer and allowed her girlfriend to hold her close. You watched them sadly, you had never felt more single.

"Are they always this sickly?" The Master asked, shuffling towards you. Looking up at him, you nod.

"Yep. I deserve a medal for biggest third wheel." He laughed, resting his head back against the icy wall. Seeing as the doc and yaz were distracted with each other, you decided it wouldn't hurt; making conversation with The Master.

"You know, you reminded me I need to go gift shopping too." You told him, starting to shiver more violently. He looked you over, brows creasing.

"You do?"

"Well it's nearly Christmas back on earth. Need to finish off my Christmas shopping." It was hard to speak, your lips were going numb. Subtly, The Master inched closer and began to unbutton his jacket.

"You like Christmas?" He asked curiously, getting the last button open.

"I love it. Though, its pretty lonely."

"Small family?" You shook your head, fingers loosing all feeling. Even when you rubbed your hands together, it was useless. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist. You were pulled down into The Masters chest and he wrapped his jacket around your form. Instantly, you were greeted with warmth and sank into his hold. Honestly, you didn't care if The Doctor or yaz could see. If she could be warm, you could be as well.

"No. Just, every year, they continue to ask me why I'm single. Where's my boyfriend. It’s draining and very lonely." You explained, relaxing as the cold thawed out of your veins. Humming, The Master made sure his jacket reached around you properly.

"Sounds it, love." Blushing, you chose to ignore the pet name. Your eyes grew heavy, the cold taking the energy away from you. The Master saw this, bringing his hand up to run through your hair softly.

"Sleep. We'll be here a while longer."

———

"Well then. Why her?" The Doctor asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up. Shrugging, The Master continued to thread his fingers through your hair.

"I dont know. Why her?" He shot back, motioning to yaz. Grinning, the blonde let out a laugh. Seems they were stuck in the same situation.

"So, what are you going to do?" She was curious, eyeing your sleeping figure. All he did was tug you in more, sighing to himself.

"Well, I have this plan."

———

Laughter woke you and Yaz a few hours later, your eyes opened slowly. You found The Doctor and The Master cackling not so quietly. Yaz looked at you confused, sitting up.

“Woah, are you two actually getting on?” She asked, cracking her neck slightly.

“Don’t sound too surprised. We grew up together.” Shrugging, The Doctor rubbed her back affectionately.

“That’s really sweet.” You mumbled, staying against The Masters chest. He made no effort to move either of you. It warmed you, more than physically. It felt natural, it felt safe.

“If I’m right, which I usually am, we should be let out soon. Get you both home.” The Doctor told you both as Yazmine handed her coat back. You gazed up at The Master, curious.

“What about you?”

“Well. I have to get this gift.” He smiled down at you, rubbing your side. Noticing your uneasy look, he chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. “Don’t you worry about me, love.”

———⭐️

About a week later, you were yet again in trouble. You were running like your life depended on it. Because it did. Somehow, The Doctor had landed in a cyberwar space station. Not that you knew exactly who they were fighting, but they were definitely organic, like yourselves. There was a moment in which you’d been spotted, fight or flight kicking in. Now you had been split up and you had been running for what felt like hours. Hearing stomping, you turned your head only to crash into something.

“Woah there.” Relief flooded your veins as you looked up to see The Master. He held your arms and, subsequently, you up. “What are you doing here?” He was baffled to see you, eyes roaming your figure for injuries and such.

“Doctor.” That was all that needed to be said. He sighed, quickly pulling you along the corridor. It seemed he knew the place well, you tilted your head, holding onto his hand easily. “Is this your doing?” You teased, earning a grin from the man.

“It might be.” He started, making you scoff. “But it really was an accident.” The Master took you into what seemed to be a control room, letting you go and messing around with a keypad. A metal door shut behind, a loud click to signal it was locked. Perhaps you should have felt worried, that you were alone with The Master. The man who tried to become The Doctor. The Man that created the “CyberMasters”. Also the same man that kept you out of harms way, who listened to you. No, you felt perfectly content in this situation. You sat yourself on a leather chair that was situated by one of the control panels. “So, the Doctor appears to be stuck two levels from us. And four levels from her blessed Tardis.” He informed you, causing you to sigh in annoyance. That really didn’t surprise you. “Don’t you worry dear. I’ll get her to us, then I’ll get you all away from here.” The Master chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to ‘contact’ The Doctor. Once he’d done that, he strolled over to you. “So, finished your Christmas shopping?” His casual question caught you off guard, but it was nice to see he remembered.

“Nearly. Just one person left to buy for.” You huffed, thinking about your family back on earth. Noticing your tone, The Master nonchalantly moved you, slipping onto the chair. You found yourself almost in the man’s lap, little space left between you. Instead of complaining, you accepted your fate and leant against him.

“And who is that, you don’t sound particularly happy about it?” He inquired.

“It’s my aunty. We don’t always get on.” You said, wondering if he’d want to know of all your family drama.

“Oh? Why’s that?” It seemed he did. You pursed your lips, not knowing where to begin. There was a lot she had done. Then again, The Master may have just perceived you as dramatic. “That bad?” He commented, seeing as you hadn’t spoken for a moment.

“Yeah, it can be. She’s just really opinionated, and doesn’t like how I dress. Or my job. Or my hair. Or my personality.”

“I don’t think I like your aunt.” He cut in, a small laugh passing your lips. “Have you considered gifting her nothing? It seems that’s exactly what she deserves.”

“I fear that would make Christmas very awkward.” He tut at your response, taking you in fully. Twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers, he spoke again. “I happen to think your hair is very nice.”

“That’s only because it’s purple.” You laughed, not minding the closeness at all. The Master smirked, nodding his head in approval.

“Well of course.” Just then, there was loud banging on the steal door, making you jolt away from the man. Reluctantly, he got up with a grumble, opening the door with the press of a button. “Took you long enough.” He sounded annoyed, though you felt as though it was more about being interrupted. The Doctor came in a hurry with Yaz right behind her. Out of breath, the brunette shook her head.

“She couldn’t follow your instructions. Kept trying to find shortcuts.” Yaz baited her girlfriend out, earning a playful shove.

“Well it felt like he was giving us a longer route!” The Doctor exasperated, arms in the air.

“Why would he do that? To hurt (y/n)?” Yaz worried.

“No!” All three of you said in response to the girls question. She looked around surprised. The Master grunted under his breath, busying himself with finding a way up to the tardis. Smiling, you stood up and looked over his shoulder, watching what he was doing. In the background, you could faintly hear the women still discussing.

“But after everything he’s done?”

“Trust me Yaz, he will not harm her.”

“But how do you-“

“I just know.” You didn’t look back, not minding their conversation at all.

“When is Christmas Day, for you?” The Master, also ignoring the girls, asked you lowly. You thought for a second.

“Just a few days. The Doctor is going to drop me off after we get out of here. Then I’ll have the entire week with my family.” You said with a less than enthusiastic timbre, making the man chortle. It really wasn’t what you were looking forward to, except for seeing your parents of course.

“Would it help if I came alone, I know I could easily fix your problem.” It was a false threat, you knew that. You felt yourself smiling at his suggestion, shaking your head.

“As nice as your company would be, I don’t think hurting my aunt would fix things.” He looked at you, taking in everything you said with a short head bob. “Well then, maybe I’ll just pop in to say hi.” He grinned before turning round. “Right everyone, follow me!” The woman jumped, scurrying to follow you both down a ladder and to the Tardis. The Master helped you down from the ladder, holding your waist and bringing you back to the ground. There was a small blush on your cheeks, unable to meet the man’s eyes. His hand slipped into yours, as he walked along the metallic corridor.

“My tardis!” The Doctor cheered, running to the blue box in a flurry. The Master rolled his eyes, noting that Yaz had gone inside without a second thought. Gazing down at you, he let go of your hand grudgingly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a good Christmas. Trust me.” He winked, stirring both confusion and bashfulness inside of you. Giving him a smile, you waved and stepped into The Tardis.

———

The past three days had been tough, to say the least. The first day had been okay. You went to the markets with your parents, getting hot chocolates and wandering the stalls. The second day, the rest of your family arrived, which included your aunt.

“Oh god, what have you done?” Was the very first thing she had said upon seeing you, clearly meaning your hair. Thankfully your mother was there to distract her, but every chance she got, your aunt would make comments. Then, the third day, Christmas Eve, it had been even worse. Your aunt had gotten very drunk at the meal your father had planned. The whole restaurant could hear her yapping on. It was loud and obnoxious spiel, about the worst topics imaginable. Now it was Christmas morning, you were sat in your childhood bedroom, applying your make-up. Part of you felt insecure, even if you originally liked your outfit. An off the shoulder black top, paired with a short, mauve miniskirt and black boots. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed before finishing off with lip stick. In your youth, you’d traditionally open gifts first thing. However your aunt had decided it now had to be done after dinner, for some stupid reason. Either way, you picked up the last of your gifts for the family and brought them downstairs.

“Merry Christmas!” Your mother chimed upon seeing you, handing your uncle a plate of hot food. You smiled, greeting her too. After laying the gifts by the tree, you took a seat on the free arm chair and looked around. Your dad was chatting away with his brother, both eating a hearty fry up. Your mother still in the kitchen, grandparents all sitting at the coffee table.

“Will there be anybody joining you this year, (y/n)?” Your aunt questioned. She had already asked about your relationship status the first day you saw her.

“No.” You gave a short answer.

“Why am I not surprised.” She tut. “Maybe if you weren’t so difficult, then you’d find a suitable husband.” She lectured you, as your mother came in and handed you some breakfast.

“Yeah, I know.”

———

A few hours went by, dinner was still not ready yet and you were already growing tired. You weren’t sure how long you’d last under that woman’s gaze. Her eyes were like fire, burning you with their criticism. She had been ranting about the problems in society for a solid thirty minutes, and you were getting a headache.

“Take (y/n) for example.” She said suddenly, gaining your attention again. “The hair, the clothes and the tattoos, not to mention the jewellery. Her generation has no sense of class. None.” Your aunt peached, but no one really said anything. “Rude too. You never see any of them do anything for us!” A loud knock interrupted her, thankfully. You shot up, reassuring people that you’d see who it was. Even when you entered the hallway, you could hear her gibberish, though it was fading slightly. You really wanted to bang your head against the wall, but the knocking persisted. Pulling open the door, your eyes went wide at what you saw. Stood there, at your door, on Christmas Day, was The Master. His hair was curly, wearing a black shirt, covered by a maroon knitted vest, with a gift bag in hand. Before he could even say a word, you threw your arms around his neck, startling the timelord. He chuckled, bringing you in closer.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find my house?” You asked, pulling back from him with a smile. The Master looked down at you smugly.

“I told you that I’d pop by and say hi, I thought you’d appreciate it.” He really came, you thought as your eyes shone with gratitude. Giggling, you jumped up hugging him once again.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumbled against his shoulder, relaxing when his arms encased you.

“Well, I could sense that you were distressed.” His hand ran along your back bringing you instant comfort. “How is everything going?”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.” You admitted to him, face pressed to his shoulder. The Master tightened his hold on you, letting out a short sigh.

“I’m here now, okay?” He reassured, clearly not liking how down you sounded. For a moment, you could forget about the mess of your extended family. Forget that right behind you, your aunt was probably still waffling on.

“(Y/n)? Who’s this?” Your mother’s voice suddenly brought you back to reality. Reluctantly, you pulled away from The Master and turned to face her. Ever confident, the male gave her a witty smile.

“Ah, I apologise. I’m (y/n)s work colleague, O. I thought I’d just drop off her gift whilst I was around.” He lied smoothly, impressing you. Your mother walked towards you both, smiling warmly at him.

“No problem at all, why don’t you stay for dinner? If you don’t have any other plans of course.” She was quick to ask, mostly for your sake it seemed. Even your mum knew how difficult her sister-in-law was.

“If it’s no trouble?” The Master was a very good actor, feigning his politeness. Shaking her head, your mother responded,

“None at all, come on in. It’s freezing out there.” Ushering him in, you closed the door behind and locked it. The Master looked at you simpering, allowing you to guide him into the living area. Everyone looked up, hearing people re-enter.

“Everyone, this is (y/n)’s work friend, he’s going to be joining us today.” Your mother spoke happily, most of your family nodding along with the news pleasantly. “Dinner will be ready soon, someone get O a drink.” She finished off before disappearing into the kitchen. You looked up at The Master expectantly.

“Oh, what are you drinking?” He questioned, understanding your look.

“Just lemonade, I don’t drink.” You let him know, a little bashful.

“She’s an odd one, isn’t she?” Confused, The Master spun around to find a short, older woman looking up at him. “Everyone needs a tipple at Christmas, don’t you agree?” Your aunt held up her sherry glass as if to prove her point. It didn’t take a genius to realise who the woman was, and The Master gave a chivalrous reaction.

“Oh I’m not a big fan of drinking, bad for the liver you know.” He eyed her, muttering under his breath “and the teeth.” You pressed your lips together having heard him. The Master peered at you, lips twitching slightly. “Just water will be fine, love.” Trying to ignore your slight blush, you got him a glass of cold water and took it into the dining room. Your mother was just finishing setting up cutlery.

“I’ve sat you and your colleague here if that’s alright?” She showed you the two seats, allowing you to put the drink in the right place.

“That’s great, would you like me to get everyone?”

“If you could dear.” Her eyes crinkled at you with appreciation, as she busied herself with putting everyone’s plates down. You returned to the living room, finding your secret alien ‘colleague’ wrapped in conversation with your father. It was a funny sight to see, but somehow, The Master didn’t looked too annoyed. Gathering everyone’s attention, you announced that dinner was ready and everyone soon filed into the dining room. When you went back, you found your mother had spread the food down the centre of the table. In the middle of it all, was the roasted turkey, accompanied by everything you could ever want. Bowls of stuffing and steaming veggies, large jugs of gravy, a tray of pigs in blankets and roast potato’s and carrots. There was also an array of sauces and condiments. You took The Master down the opposite end of the room to where your assigned seats were. He pulled out your chair, helping you sit before sitting himself. Whilst everyone was getting settled, you took the opportunity to talk to him.

“So, anything to say so far?”

“Your house is decorated quite nicely, I must admit.” The Master said, picking up his glass.

“I saw you talking to my dad?” You asked, curious as to what they could have been speaking about.

“Oh I overheard him talking to that man,” he nodded in a certain direction.

“My uncle?”

“Yes him, about the Bermuda Triangle. I had to join the conversation, it’s fascinating to hear what humans think goes on there.” He told you, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“Hm, he is a bit of a conspiracy theorist.” Hearing this seemed to intrigue the man beside you. Finally, your mother took her seat on the other side of you, giving the signal that people could start to plate up their dinner. Your father got to work carving the turkey, serving your grandparents first. You reached over, using the tongs to give yourself a few bits.

“What are those?” Confused, The Master pointed.

“They’re called pigs in blankets. It’s a mini sausage wrapped in streaky bacon. Do you want some?” He bobbed his head in confirmation, watching as you put some on his plate, along with a variety of vegetables too.

“Such a fascinating name.” The master mumbled. Your father had finished his but, placing the carving tools down for someone else to use. To your surprise, The Master was quick to pick them up, carving off some meat and putting it on your plate before his own. Noticing the gravy was in the jugs, you looked around for a moment before excusing yourself. You grabbed a small dip bowl from the kitchen before coming back and putting it to the side of your plate. Seeing how big the jugs were, you frowned a little, carefully pulling one closer to you.

“Do you want me to help?” The Master asked with a grin.

“Please?” You looked at him sheepishly. He immediately did just that, pouring some of the gravy into your little bowl.

“She’s an odd one isn’t she?” Your aunt cackled across the table, causing you both to look at her. Placing the jug down, The Master cocked his head a little.

“Why is that?”

“Well using a bowl like a child, just pour it all over like the rest of us.” She shook her head. The Master spied her plate, seeing it piled high and looking like brown sludge with all the gravy on there.

“I just wanted to dip my food instead.” You tried to explain, but it didn’t matter.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (y/n). And she doesn’t have to do exactly what you do, either.” The Master said sternly, not looking back at the woman opposite him again. He glanced at you warmly, putting a hand on your knee. He could probably feel how cold you were to the touch. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, starting to eat your dinner.

“How is everything, O?” Your mother looked over hopefully. The Master offered her a kind look.

“Wonderful, thank you mrs (y/l/n).”

———

Dinner soon finished up, and you helped your mother and nan to clean up. They did shop you off after a few moments however, to which you went back to the living room.

“Ready for gifts?” Your uncle leered, getting all the presents ready.

“I just need to go get one last thing.” You realised, rushing back up to your room, grabbing a bag then heading back down.

“So, O is it?” You heard your aunt speak, stopping just outside the door.

“Yes?” The Master was sat on an arm chair off to the side, right by the fire too.

“You work with (y/n)?” She enquired as your mother was brining in the last of her surprises.

“I do, yes.” He lied, curious as to where this was going.

“Is she as incompetent in work as she is here?” Your aunt looked at him pointedly. It baffled him how she said that with no second thoughts.

“Actually I happen to think she’s exceptionally smart.” The master spoke casually, noticing the look of shock on the older lady’s face. You smiled to yourself outside the door, ready to walk back in.

“So, what are you, her boyfriend?” It seemed that question made everyone grow silent, waiting for his response. Your heart was in your stomach.

“And if I was?” He shot back, clearly unfazed. “I’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like her.” You swallowed hard, cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. The rest of your family began talking again, getting on with whatever it was they were doing. Taking a deep breath, you walked back into the living room trying to seem like you totally hadn’t been listening in. Then you noticed, no seats left. So, you went to sit on the floor by The Masters chair. You really didn’t mind much, plus you’d be warm by the crackling fire. A hand landed on your waist as you went to sit, making you look to your side. The Master guided you onto the chair with him, your legs falling over his lap. No one paid any notice, presents getting passed around the room in a flurry.

“And this one is for you, (y/n)” your father grinned handing you a wrapped box. Taking it, you quickly pulled off the colourful paper, happy to find something you’d been asking for the majority of the year. It was related to a band you enjoyed. Begrudgingly, your aunt thrust a gift into your arms. You forced a smile, opening up the tacky bag and peeking inside.

“Oh wow..” inside, was selection of make up. All different shades of bright eye shadows and lip colours. Ones you wouldn’t dare go anywhere near.

“I thought it could help to make you more appealing.” Your aunt said confidently, whereas you were at a loss for words. The Master tut, taking it off you and putting the bag to the side.

“By making her look like a clown?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Her style suits her perfectly. It’s just not your style.” He continued, shooting daggers at the woman. She huffed in annoyance but chose not to say another word. Your heart warmed at his protectiveness, making you quickly reach down and pick up a small bag.

“For you.” You said, his eyes glazing with bewilderment. The Master took the gift, opening it up carefully. From the bag, he pulled out a snow globe, taking it in for a moment. You really weren’t sure how he’d take the present, perhaps he’d think it was stupid. “I made it myself.” You clarified, trying not to show your anxiety. “I went to this pottery night last week, and I made your tardis in the middle see?” He looked at you with an indescribable look. “It’s where we first met, plus the shack is really cosy. And I made the exterior purple just for you.” Now you were just rambling, filling in the void of silence. The Masters eyes raked over you, considering your form with a tactical eye. Deflating, you looked down at your lap. “You hate it.”

“I love it.” The Master suddenly clarified, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His lips curled into a genuine smile, thumb rolling over your cheek soothingly. Leaning in, he left a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t remember the last time someone got me a gift, let alone made me something that held actual meaning.” Relaxing, you beamed up at him, happy that you could in fact, get a positive reaction from him. “Thank you, love.” Again, you blushed, following his movements as he picked up the gift bag he had brought with him. Once he’d pulled out a neatly wrapped gift, he extended the bag to your mother who was stood nearby.

“Oh this is very kind.” She exclaimed, taking out a very extravagant bottle of champagne. Both of your parents were very happy with the gift, all your family ogling the expensive drink.

“This is for you.” The Master said, giving you the wrapped gift. It was only a small box, but intriguing nonetheless. Tearing away the black paper, you found a maroon, velvet box, with a bronze clasp. Slowly, you opened the box and gasped at the sight. Inside, there was a ring, the band made from white gold and lined with tiny purple gems. In the middle, there was an oval amethyst, held in a crescent moon shaped piece of gold. The Master took the ring in one hand, gently holding your hand with the other. He slid the ring onto your index finger, your eyes widening as it automatically adjusted to your size. “Very pretty.” He muttered, making you nod.

“It is.” You agreed, admiring the ring. The Master chuckled, not letting go of your hand.

“I wasn’t referring to the ring, dear.” Your eyes met, a small smirk on his lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, I love it. Thank you.” Trying to ignore his casual flirting, your attention fell back to the ring. He chuckled, tugging you closer to his side.

“I told you all I was on that planet for good reasons.” Suddenly remembering that day, your head shot up in a second.

“Me? You were buying the gift for me?”

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you love?” You nod at his question dumbly.

“But why?” You asked perplexed, trying not to get your hopes up too much. The Master hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Why do you think?” He simply said, not really giving an answer. “I meant what I said, I’d be lucky to have someone like you.” His touches were purposeful. “But I could never-“

“Why not?” You cut him off with a frown. He let out a breath.

“You know who I am, what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of someone like you.” The Master spoke sorrowfully, playing with the ring on your finger. Shaking your head, you replied quickly.

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He raised his brows.

“You treat me so well. You’re protective and dedicated, you found my house and came knowing I needed you.” Taking in your words, The Master shrugged slightly.

“But-“

“But nothing.” You said matter of factly. There was no way he would be winning that argument. “What if I want to be yours?” You mumbled incredulously, casting your eyes down to your lap. Feeling a hand on my cheek, The Master tilted my head back up to meet his gaze. He was smiling.

“You already have me, doll. I thought you knew that?” He grinned, my eyes lighting up in a second. “And if your family want here. I’d prove that to you.” The Master spoke in a hushed voice, your cheeks shining colour instantly. He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer.

“If you two are done flirting, there’s more gifts to be shared over here!” Your uncle interrupted, making everyone in the room laugh. Even though you were blushing, you rolled your eyes and began paying attention to your surroundings. Everyone was in a joyous mood, even your aunt. Perhaps it was the sherry, but either way you were grateful. Leaning back into The Masters chest, you sighed contently as his arms wrapped around your waist. Surely, it would be a slight shock to The Doctor, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. His lips pressed to your head tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master #the master x reader #doctor who x reader

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