#whittaker!master smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fxlling13 · 26 days

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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

75 notes · View notes

lanawinterscigarettes · 9 months

Text

Doctor Who masterlist

Requests are currently open!

Key:

Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆

Ninth Doctor

Comforting Touch ♤♡

Thirteenth Doctor

Almost Siblings ♡

cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day ♡

What Dies Doesn't Always Stay Buried ♤♡

Gold Dust Woman ♤

Dhawan! Doctor

put on your records and regret me ♤♡

Rose Tyler

Overprotective Older Sister ♤♡

Martha Jones

Worried For You ♡

River Song

Bored In Captivity ♡

Clara Oswald

Hiding Away ♤♡

Lady Oswald ♧

Simm! Master

The Masters dating someone who's clumsy ◇

The Masters + finding rocks that match the color of each other's eyes ◇

you're a cowboy like me ♤♡

The Masters taking care of a sick reader ◇

The reader taking care of the Masters when they're sick ◇

Missy/Gomez! Master

The Masters dating someone who's clumsy ◇

Oral Exam ♧

Side Effects Include ♡

Kiss Of Doom ♡♤

The Masters + finding rocks that match the color of each other's eyes ◇

Pay Attention ♧

What Dies Doesn't Always Stay Buried ♤♡

The Masters taking care of a sick reader ◇

The reader taking care of the Masters when they're sick ◇

Random characters with a reader who plays Five Nights at Freddy's ◇

Dhawan! Master

The Masters dating someone who's clumsy ◇

The One Who Rocks My World ♡

The Masters + finding rocks that match the color of each other's eyes ◇

Change of Plans ♡

I feel a lavender haze creepin' up on me ♡

The Masters taking care of a sick reader ◇

The reader taking care of the Masters when they're sick ◇

Whittaker! Master

my house of stone, your ivy grows ♡

put on your records and regret me ♤

Burning Red ♡

The Toymaker

Wanna Hippopotamus for Christmas ♡

The Toymaker losing a game to a reader who wants to dance with him ◇

#doctor who #doctor who imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fluff #doctor who angst #doctor who smut #ninth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #twelfth doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #the master x reader #the toymaker x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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devilry-revelry · 2 years

Text

Heart & Home | Male Ghost x Female Human {Part 1}

Mostly unedited rewrite of a thing I did way back when I was (happily) getting force-fed Red Dead Redemption 2 smut. It's a ghost cowboy. I'm not sorry.

: ̗̀➛

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

: ̗̀➛

The place had been on sale for nearly three years.

It was an old cabin resting on a rough half-acre space surrounded by mountains and farmland. The cabin was small. There were repairs that needed to be made to both interior and exterior, most of the electrical needed to be redone, and the plumbing needed to be updated. The bones were good though. The foundation was sturdy and unwavering. It just needed someone to show it a little bit of love – at least that’s what Maggie Whittaker, realtor, told each and every one of her clients after they drove the full 45 minutes out of town to see it.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told each and every single person that stared at the cabin and openly grimaced.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told the potential buyers that scoffed at the still-standing outhouse off to the side of the home.

No one took the bait though. Whether it was due to the commute time, or the plumbing issues, or the fact that the wiring threatened to burn the place down at any given moment. No one wanted to buy the place, but that didn’t stop Maggie from showing it at any given opportunity because she genuinely felt that the place held great promise. Every time she stepped onto the old wrap around porch she could imagine how inviting the space would be with a rocking chair, or a porch swing. She wanted to sit there with coffee and watch the sunrise above the trees in the morning, and watch as the stars came out at night. Maggie also liked to imagine how cozy the inside would be with a little bit of cleaning. She had decided long ago that the house would stay true to its rustic roots and she would salvage as much of the original materials that she could. She also decided that she would put a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, and there would be old shelves with books, and a big bed with heavy blankets, and she would bake bread and cookies as fresh mountain air drifted through the kitchen…

Maggie could imagine all of those things, because that’s what she wanted. She wanted fresh mountain air, and cozy winters in front of a fireplace. Instead she had an awful third floor apartment sandwiched between a creep of a man and a nosy old woman. She had a cityscape that blocked the skyline, and the sounds of sirens and traffic accompanied by the acrid scent of piss and garbage. Meanwhile she sold people their dream homes. Homes with the backyard swimming pool, and the master bathroom with the male-height vanities and jacuzzi tubs and the shower with the six-plus shower heads that connected to wifi and Bluetooth. Even when she knew that no one in her clientele would show an interest in her cabin she showed the property every time she was able.

Perhaps it was because she hoped that someone would see the same potential that she did – or maybe it was just an excuse to spend more time at her own dream home. The cabin offered her a comfort that she couldn’t find surrounded by strangers at her apartment building. The cabin gifted her with the sense of belonging that she had been missing since she grew up and moved out of her familial home. When she wasn’t there she yearned to return, and when she had the opportunity, she often made the most of it she could. She structured her work schedule to offer her the most time at the cabin. If she could schedule the place for a showing, she saved the best for last, and when the not-so-potential buyers made their return trip to the city, Maggie often found herself taking up residence on the porch.

The little cabin offered Maggie all the comfort and warmth she craved, and she hated that every time she left, she didn’t know when or if she would be back; so she enjoyed what time that she had while she had it before leaving the one place she, somehow, considered home.

There were times where Maggie was lucky enough to return to the cabin weekly, if not daily but then there were times when business slowed, or a slew of clients steadfastly rejected the idea of living outside of the city, and so she didn’t get to return to her dream home for months at a time – and it was after one of those long stints of being away that everything changed…

During the winter months the already lackluster interest in the cabin waned. It was a long drive out from the city, and it seemed like all of Maggie’s clientele didn’t want to deal with the drive through the potentially inclement weather. It wasn’t until mid-spring when a potential buyer showed half-hearted interest and Maggie jumped at the opportunity to make the drive.

The buyer was a man from somewhere upstate. He was quiet, never really asking questions about the houses they visited, and never making a committal reply to any information she supplied. It served to make the day rather awkward, but when she mentioned the cabin overlooking the mountains he claimed that he wouldn’t mind seeing the place.

When they got to the cabin the man got out of his car with a camera looped around his neck with a strap, a camera that had been notably absent during the hours prior. Though it wasn’t uncommon for folks to snap pictures of the houses they toured, Maggie found the camera’s sudden appearance a little curious. A sudden and wholly unwelcome wave of paranoia washed away her excitement, and she found herself silently cursing the man for ruining her anticipated return to the cabin. She resolved to get through the showing as fast as she could for the sake of getting him to leave.

The building unease vanished the moment Maggie set foot on the porch, and it was very quickly replaced by a rush of warmth when she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“You really show this shithole?”

The comment kicked up Maggie’s ire, but she plastered on a bright and cheery smile, and forced an amused laugh as she said, “It’s got some great views. Right around back, you can watch the sunset.”

“One bedroom? No running water? Why bother.”

“It has running water; the pipes just need some updating. And I think someone will see the potential and spruce it up. I’m… um—“ she faltered as he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back near the old fireplace. His fingers found a lock of hair and pulled it in front of her ear then stepped back. “— um, what are you—“

“Just getting a couple of pictures,” he said simply.

“Sir,” Maggie started, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. She stepped away from the fireplace. “I would appreciate if—“

“I told you I’m a photographer, right?” He stepped forward again, and moved her back into place. “Just let me get a few pictures. There is an interesting contrast between you and how rugged everything in here is,” he played with her hair, and went so far as to reach out to undo the top button of her cardigan.

Maggie’s hand shot up and smacked him away, feeling the bitter dredges of rage burn her throat.

“Calm down, it’s just a button—“

“Get out. Now.”

“I said I’m a photogr—“

“And I said get out. We’re done.”

He sighed loudly and pulled the camera from around his neck.. “Look, ok, I’ll put the camera away—“

“I believe the lady said to get gone, boy.”

The voice caused them both to jump. It was as sudden as it was forceful. It was a low drawl that wasn’t at all common to the area. Maggie and the so-called photographer both turned to the origin of the voice, but the room was empty. Just as Maggie’s brows began to knit together in what could only be the most confusion she had ever felt in her life (the perv clearly heard the voice too), the lights in the living room flickered. The faucet in the kitchen turned on full blast. The photographer turned yet again, his eyes darting from the lights, to the sink -- there was a loud creak from the floorboards near the front door and he spun around just before his whole body pitched forward.

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The camera bounced to the ground in the tumble, the flash going off. The lights flickered yet again, the cabinets in the kitchen swung open and Maggie hid. She wedged herself between the fireplace and the wall, sinking to her butt and pulling her legs to her chest as the room around her came to life in a surreal show of hostility. The camera shot across the floor, skidding against hardwood until it met the toes of her shoes. The photographer scrambled, desperately finding purchase on his feet before he high-tailed it to the front door. He was leaving - leaving her alone in the crazy house… but the second he cleared the doorway, the activity in the house stopped. The cupboards closed, the lights stopped flickering, and the water shut off. It was suddenly, abruptly, eerily quiet. Maggie was afraid to move. In the quiet of the room, she held her breath. Even when she heard the man’s car start up, she remained rooted in place.

It wasn’t until the sound of the engine was long gone, did Maggie dare to take a soft breath and whisper, “Hello?”

Moments ticked by into minutes where there was no response, and as the silence dragged on, the fear and panic ebbed, and the familiar warmth returned. The tension that had gathered in her muscles eased. Her shoulders sagged and she released a heavy breath. Her eyes dropped to the camera.

The thing had moved on its own. Just like the fluttering cupboards, just like the water faucet. As she reached for it, she half anticipated it to shoot across the floor, but it remained in place, quiet and unassuming and hopefully not haunted. It didn’t move, which was great, but the screen that was pulled up on the display made her stomach flip uncomfortably.

It was a picture of her sitting in her car, sitting in front of the very first house she had met her client that day. She toggled the switch, flipping to the next image. It was her at the door to the cabin, her hand at the knob.

“Oh God,” Maggie grumbled, glowering at the image. Photographer? Right. A total creep, more like. She thumbed the switch again. The final image was nothing but a blur; likely taken when the camera had fallen. She was in the image, her figure crumpled in the corner like a scared child but there was something in front of her, partially cutting off part of her form but it was too blurred to really nail down what it was.

Her curiosity urged her to her feet. She moved a few paces from the corner, then turned to face the space, comparing the picture to the area she had vacated. There was nothing that could have been in the picture unless it had been the photographer, but the coloring was all off. Photographer was wearing bluejeans, the blur in the image was tan. It didn’t match with any of the colors in the cabin, either. The longer Maggie stared at the image, the easier it was to convince herself that she saw the blurry outline of a boot. Like someone had been standing between her and the photographer—

“Jesus, Mags,” she groused, turning the camera off. But even still, she was weary. She couldn’t explain away what had happened as easily as she could a blurry photograph. She could chalk up the photo as a searching and overactive imagination, but there was no explanation for what had happened. None.

Maggie started for the door, then froze when a loud creak sounded behind her. It sounded just like a tired door opening in an old horror movie. When she turned her head she could see the bedroom door slowly opening. Wanting to debunk the day’s strange events she dropped her things on the kitchen counter and marched towards the room.

Was there a draft? There had to be a draft. As soon as she got to the bedroom she grabbed the door knob and closed the door. It latched closed. It didn’t budge when she pressed against it. She turned the knob, pushed it open just a bit and waited.

Once again, the door didn’t budge. It was sturdy and solid and absolutely not swinging open ominously. She held up her hand towards the ceiling, feeling for any air flow and when that didn’t work she went into the bedroom. There was an old vent–

The door snikt shut behind her.

A flare of fear sent her whipping back towards the door. She scrambled for the knob but it didn’t turn. Didn’t budge.

“Hello!” She called out, silently swearing to God that if that prick came back to this house and decided to fuck with her that she would do what she could to beat the living crap out of him. “Hey, open the door! Come on—“

She felt the sensation of warmth at her back and it caused her to still. She smelled wood smoke. It was gentle and lingering, reminding her of summer nights and camping trips. The gentle sweetness of cigar smoke came with it. Maggie’s hackles softened as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Despite the swelling fear she had felt moments before she was once again pulled into a feeling of comfort.

She shuffled a step towards the door, feeling pressure at her back, feeling a breath rustle her hair and tickle her ear. She closed her eyes and couldn’t stop her imagination from trying to summon the voice from earlier, the low drawl, right at her ear.

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

Heat pooled low in her belly, she started to lean back into the warm pressure. She had the urge to tilt her hips, to back her ass up against— her eyes shot open, and she turned. There was no one there. Despite being alone, her cheeks grew hot.

A cute house in the woods, and a ghost apparently. When she tried the door again it opened. She gathered her things, locked up the house, and after a final lingering glance she left.

She didn’t return to the cabin again for a whole three weeks.

This time she returned with a married couple. The circumstances of her last visit had been bizarre. While the events of that day didn’t exactly haunt her, she had spent plenty of time imagining what her return trip would be like. If strange phenomena happened again she would have to assume that the cabin was haunted, and if it didn’t… well, she would have to assume that she was crazy. When she pulled into the driveway, Maggie anticipated a bit of anxiety to flare up. There was no anxiety. Only a bones deep yearning to be back inside the cabin. So without the typical fanfare, Maggie unlocked the door and led the couple inside.

Maggie frowned, and despite her curiosity, she left, and didn’t return to the cabin for a whole three weeks. This time, she returned with a married couple. The moment she was on the property, she yearned to be inside. She sought the comfort the cabin seemed to give her, so without much prelude or fanfare, she unlocked the front door and led the couple inside.

The tour was quick, as it usually was.

Entryway drop zone. Hallway. Living room left, kitchen right. A wall separated the living room from the bedroom. Across from the bedroom was the bathroom and utility space. And there was the outhouse. Of course.

The couple seemed entirely uninterested, probably looking for something that was a bit more up-to-date.

“The land isn’t bad. Good space.”

Maggie nodded her agreement, “Great space. The owners live nearby. They’ve been maintaining the land, making sure it hasn’t gotten too overgrown. They offered to help with the upkeep after purchase.”

“Suppose I can tear down the cabin, do a custom build—“ the husband started.

“Wait, what—“

“Build a pool—“ the wife continued.

“This cabin was originally built in 18–“

“And it shows! It really shows. I’m not going to buy a one bedroom shack with an outhouse. But I can buy the space. Get rid of the cabin. Build a farmhouse and sell it for —“

Something happened then. Something that made the husband yelp. Maggie whirled around to see one of his feet dropping through one of the floorboards. When he stepped back to find his balance, he fell to the ground with a force that seemed to shake the very foundation of the cabin. Then the lights flickered. The front door snapped open then slammed shut. The wife shrieked at the sound. Maggie watched, detached from the fear she should feel. The husband vaulted to his feet. While the woman went to the door and tried to open it, the man yanked his foot from the floor. When the door didn’t open, the woman began to shriek and the man called after her to try and calm her down.

Maggie proceeded to view the unfolding chaos. She didn’t want the cabin to be torn down. She didn’t want there to be a frickin’ pool. She wanted the cabin to be fixed up, while maintaining its rustic charm. She wanted it appreciated by someone who could see the beauty it held. She wanted these two long gone. Maggie finally moved. With far more calm than she should feel, Maggie skirted around the hole in the floorboard, and joined the frantic couple at the door. The cabinets slammed and rattled in the kitchen. The lights had stopped flickering and had gone completely dark. Maggie squeezed her frame between the man and the door. She took hold of the handle and twisted it. The door unlatched and she pushed it open. The duo pushed their way past her making her stumble out the door with them. They practically raced to their car, and before she knew it they were driving away.

Maggie watched them go. Once the tail lights were out of view, Maggie turned to assess the cabin. She stood at the front door, pressing her hand against the hardwood frame.

“What was that about?” She asked the home, in a gentle coo.

There was a loud creak from the inside, like footsteps, and without an ounce of fear, she stepped back into the now quiet cabin. The place had yet to turn on her. Not once. With the photographer, it had defended her. With the married couple it seemed to defend itself. Maggie somehow immediately convinced herself that the cabin wouldn’t turn on her. No harm would come to her when she was there.

She moved with careful steps as if she were approaching a frightened dog. She navigated around the new hole in the floor, and once she came to a stop she heard the front door close softly.

The old flooring creaked. In one place, and then in another. Growing closer. As if someone was walking towards her. The wild scent of wood smoke tickled her nose. Maggie closed her eyes and breathed it in. The touch of sweetness that curled at the edges made her mouth water. The sensation of a presence at her back should have set her off, but all she knew was ease, comfort, and home.

“I ain’t standin’ by and lettin’ folks tear down my home.”

The voice was a low, accented drawl. The same voice that had told off that perverted photographer. The same one she had fantasized about more than a time or two as she lay in bed at night.

“And I’m through with all of the disrespect–”

“I-I never meant to disrespect anything–” her voice was quiet and ragged, but frantic. She turned towards her accuser and saw a man. Or the impression of one. It was hard to determine what exactly she was seeing, or not. The image only lived in her periphery and the moment she attempted to look directly at the figure, it seemed to shift out of view or vanish all together.

She thought she was seeing a man. Tall, and broad, with eyes so dark they looked black. His clothes looked old and worn, with hints of khaki or maybe canvas, an old linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the buttons at his chest undone.

Maggie swallowed, closing her eyes hard. She repeated, “I’m sorry. I never meant any disrespect.”

“Nah, girl. Not you. Them. I built this cabin with my bare hands. I know these’re different times, but to come into a man’s home and call it a shithole…”

The man was edging closer, and Maggie matched his stride in the opposite direction. She wasn’t retreating out of fear, or she didn’t think so. She wasn’t scared. What she was feeling wasn’t fear. And yet, if what he was saying was true, if this was the man who built the cabin all those years back that could only mean one thing. She should be scared.

“You’re-you’re right—“ her back touched the wall. She trained her gaze to look away so she could see him better as he made his approach. His hair was dark, like charcoal. His skin was a beautiful sunkissed tan. Were those suspenders hanging from his hips?

“And then what that little pissant did to you…”

“He didn’t—“

A hand extended to her, brushing her wrist with warm, calloused fingers. The contact surprised her. He was warm. He was gentle. Weren’t ghosts supposed to be cold? He took her hand, dragging his thumb over her palm. Maggie’s eyes flickered to the point of contact. There was no more impression of a person dancing in her vision. There was indeed someone standing before her, touching her. When she chanced a look up at his face, his eyes were trained on their hands. He looked just as surprised as she felt.

His voice softened. “He did. He disrespected you. And that’s somethin’ I ain’t gonna tolerate, y’hear me Maggie Whittaker?”

Maggie nodded her head, slowly before she managed to find her voice. “Who are you?”

“Elias Jameson.”

“Your family owns this place.”

“They do.”

“Do they know about… you?”

“Nah. Tried to speak with one of the boys a few years back and he never came back…”

Again, Maggie nodded. Finding words was becoming increasingly difficult, and his proximity wasn’t helping. She was floored, she was stunned, and she was positive that she was dreaming. Elias’ eyes lifted from their hands to study her face. Christ, Maggie thought. That jawline is sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“Yer scared.”

“I’m… confused. If you’re a, well… how…?” She tried to gather her thoughts. “It feels like I’m dreaming.”

The rough pads of his fingers touched the skin inside her wrist. It probably would have tickled if the contact didn’t feel so sensual. She licked her lips as she recalled being locked in the bedroom, with the sensation of a presence at her back, and the urge to press and grind and–

“This ain’t no dream, Miss Whittaker.”

#paranormal romance #paranormal #romance #ghost romance #cowboy #ghost cowboy #cowboy ghost #monster boyfriend #cowboy monster boyfriend?#male ghost x female human #ghost cowboy boyfriend #shitty writing #unedited because im lazy and this has been sitting around for decades

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kinglivv · 4 years

Text

Galactica Centura

Whittaker!Master X Reader

Summary: You've recieved an offer of one billion credits to kill The Master. Little does the buyer know, you've got other things you'd much rather be doing to her.

Warning: Mild smut/BDSM themes

A/N: I finally decided to do something a lil smutty. It's not to graphic, but I'm a bit nervous to post it as I've never done NSFW stuff before. Also, I think this is only going to appeal the the tops in the Jodie Whittaker simp community, so I apoligise to the 90% of my mutuals who are bottoms.

You were the Master's weakness, and to tell the truth, you were rather proud of that.

Of course you didn't see eachother very often - both too busy playing out your murderous schemes to be spending down time with one another. Yet you seemed to have a hold on her that no one else had.

She would visisbly falter at the touch of your hand. Her pupils would go impossibly big as soon as you walked in the room. You were the only person she'd ever submitted to - you'd expected her to be just as controlling in bed as she was in real life, but she had let you do anything you wanted to her. Gags, ties, begging, she had done it all for you. You had wondered that because of how much power and responsibility she held in her everyday life, maybe she just wanted to let go and give it all to you for those few hours. Maybe she needed to feel out of control, just for a moment.

That's why, when catch sight of her in the middle or Galactica Centura, you feel a flame ignigted in the pit of your stomach.

You should have predicted you'd see her here. Galactica Centura was a yearly event that was attending by rich and evil from all over the universe. A dangerous mix of alcohol and black market business deals were all on the table for tonight.

You were currently leaning against the wall, watching the Master in the distance as she moved from person to person, no doubt discussing genocide and the likes, all the while trying not to make eye contact with you.

You had already spent a good portion of the night talking to millionaires and murderers, but it wasn't until a man dressed completely in black approached you that things really got interesting.

"Miss L/N," He greets you, kissing your hand in a very Earth-like way. You vaguely recognised him. "I'm King Adril, monarch of Cereblia IV."

"Cereblia IV?" You ask. "I heard that it was destoryed a few months ago."

"Yes, I defected and am now living on Cereblia V," He replies. "However I have still lost all of my people."

"I'm sorry for your loss." You weren't.

"Actually, I was hoping you could do something about that."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Elaborate." You order.

"Well, you see, the person who destroyed my kingdom was..." He lowers his voice. "The Master."

"I've heard she's into that sort if thing," You say airily. You also knew there were a lot of other things she was into, but you weren't at liberty to discuss any of those. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"Well I know you have some sort of... relationship with the Master."

You almost spit out the cocktail you had been sipping.

"We've made a few deals once or twice, yes." You try to play it down.

"I've heard you're the only one she listens to."

"Get to the point before I stab you for wasting my time."

"My point is you have power over the most powerful woman in the universe," He says. "I may have lost my planet, Miss L/N, but I most certainly haven't lost my wealth. I am willing to pay you one billion credits in order to asassinate her."

You glance up at him sharply. It wasn't the offer you were expecting, but a plan is already formulating in your mind.

"Give me half an hour and I'll see what I can do."

The King nods, and then melts back into the crowd of people.

It was then, that as if on queue, that the Master makes her way over. The crowd parts for her like the red sea, and you watch with a lust boiling in your stomach as she walks towards you, all tight dresses, low necklines and black stilettos.

"Hello, darling," Her red lips tilt upwards into a smirk.

"Hello yourself," You reply. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Had a nice evening?" She asks innocently, although you can practically see the want in her eyes and smell the need on her clothes.

"Actually," You decide to humour her. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"Walk with me."

Careful not to touch her or look like anything other than two criminal masterminds off to discuss business, you make your way across the room. She follows you out to the hallway, and reaches for an unmarked door, quickly pulling you into a closet of some kind, the door slamming behind you. Her arms are immediately around your neck and body pressed up against yours.

"I heard you destroyed Cereblia IV." You say.

"Shit place. And?" She leans in to kiss you but you turn your cheek. She huffs.

"The ex-King has offered me one billiom credits to kill you."

"What makes him think you can kill me?"

"He seems to think I have some sort of influence over you."

She quirks an eyebrow but doesn't deny it.

"And are you going to?"

"What?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

You snort. "Darling, frankly I'd much rather fuck you."

You finally allow your lips to meet, and she allows you to immediately press her against the wall. She goes utterly plaint beneath your hands as you begin to kiss down her neck.

She tries to say something, but it turns into a moan when you bite that spot underneath her ear, her hands scrabbling uselessly at your sides. Her head thumps against the wall as you kiss down the exposed valley of her chest, and you make a note to thank her later for wearing such a deep neckline. The hand that isn't holding her against the wall snakes up to her breasts, sweeping a thumb directly over a clothed nipple and she moans.

"Fuck, Y/N," She gasps. "If you don't..."

She looks angelic, her red lipstick smudged down her chest, breast half falling out of her dress and hair a messy halo around her head. Half lidded hazel eyes are watching you through the dark, filled with pure lust and ecstacy.

You're forever amazed at how fast you can get her worked up. Her leg hooks around your waist, and you ruck up her dress, watching hungrily as her pale thighs are exposed inch by inch. You know she's soaking, and that thought is only confirmed when you swipe a thumb over her crotch and you can feel the damp of the material. Her hips buck forward and she moans even louder. You have to remind yourself that this is the Master you've got, utterly submissive and squirming beneath your fingers. You wonder what everyone else out in the hall would think if they knew this was happening just through the wall.

"Please, Y/N." She whimpers, her hands buried in your hair, trying to push you down.

Deciding to take pity on her, you drop to your knees and you hear her gasp as your hands begin to slide up her thighs.

Yes, you decide. This was much better than killing her.

Taglist: @truthbehindthemysteries @queerconfusionthings @xenteaart @actuallyanita @ateliefloresdaprimavera @persephonehemingway @fabulous-jj-style

#doctor who #13th doctor #series 12 #the master #13th doctor x reader #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master #jodie whittaker #doctor who smut #smut #self insert #dom!reader #reader insert #13th doctor imagine #doctor who fanfic #the master x you #the master x reader

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riversofmars · 4 years

Photo

All my Doctor Who fanfiction in one master post, will be updating this for your convenience! Mostly River x 13 but some stories featuring 10, 11 and 12, plus some Clara x Missy and quite a bit Liv x Helen.

Current WIPs:

A Numbers Game (3/? - Action/Adventure - Mature) - During the Dalek invasion on New Year’s Day, River Song delivers a message of warning to the 8th Doctor and his companions who are stranded on Earth: The threat is far from over. They have to work together with the 13th Doctor to prevent a devastating future.

Must It Always End This Way (3/? - Smut short story Collection)

It’s Called Marriage, Honey (70/? - Prompt short story Collection)

Everything else is under the cut! <3

All This, My Love, In Fear of You (37k words - 10/10 - Action/Adventure - Explicit) - The Doctor and the Fam encounter River who has just killed someone. Something has triggered her childhood conditioning.

Ancient and Forever (4k words - 1/1 - Hurt/Comfort - General) - The Doctor seeks out River after learning she’s the Timeless Child to try and make sense of everything.

At The End Of The Universe (7k words - 2/2 - Dark/Angst/Cyberpunk - Mature) - Struggling with the events of Timeless Children, the Doctor goes to the end of the universe to blow off some steam. There, the biggest, baddest party of the universe is raging on ushering in the end of things.

Big, Vast, Complicated and Ridiculous (18k - 10/10 - Adventure/Romance - General) - The Doctor visits River at ten points in her timeline, out of chronological order.

First Do No Harm (48k words - 11/11 - Action/Adventure - Explicit) - The Doctor is in hiding using the Chameleon Arch, working as an actual doctor in an emergency department. Meanwhile her friends try to find out who’s after her.

Home for Christmas (25k words - 25/25 - Comedy/Adventure - General) - The Doctor takes the Fam to a Christmas world for a festive treat. Things go very wrong from there when they run into River Song and several past regenerations of the Doctor. (Advent Calendar)

How Many Seconds In Eternity (2k words - 1/1 - Angst - Mature) - The Doctor tallies on the walls of her prison cell, tapping her fingers in a four-time-beat, her mental state increasingly unstable.

Improbable Dreams (1.5k words - 1/1 - Humour/Fluff - Teen) - The Doctor has a rather vivid dream about the women from her past

Love Is Begun By Time (7.5k words - 1/1 - Romance/Humour/Adventure - General) Liv and Helen are split up from the Eighth Doctor and encounter River Song and the Thirteenth Doctor. During the adventure Liv finally faces up to her romantic feelings towards Helen after seeing River comfortable and happy with her wife.

Must It Always End This Way (5k words - 3/? - Smut - Explicit) - Collection of explicit/smutty short stories based on prompts.

It’s Called Marriage, Honey (63k words - 50/? - Misc. - Mature) - Collection of short stories based on prompts.

Show Me The Stars (5k words - 1/1 - Smut - Explicit) - Clara seeks out Missy during her time in the Vault, looking to fulfil some of their shared fantasies.

Take What You Want (7k words - 1/1 - Smut - Explicit) - The Doctor tries to steal back a painting that River has put up for sale, things get rather heated from there as she sets out to distract her.

The Last Three Timelords (4k words - 1/1 - Smut - Explicit) - Missy interrupts a private moment between the Doctor and her wife and finds an opportunity too good to pass up.

The Oncoming Storm (44k words - 12/12 - Dark/Action/Adventure - Explicit) - The Doctor gives in to her darker instincts, the anger and pain, after imprisonment by the Judoon. It’s up to River to help her find back to herself. Meanwhile, the Daleks take advantage of the Doctor’s incarceration and attack Earth.

Through The Looking Glass (73k words - 17/17 - Dark/Action/Adventure - Explicit) - The Doctor gets trapped in a Mirror Universe where she meets River and many other long lost companions who are evil versions of themselves. She faces off against her own evil twin with the help of the people she has always considered enemies.

The Universe Pales In Comparison (9.5k words - 1/1 - Romance/Humour/Adventure - General) - Liv asks River for help to ask Helen out on a date. River decides to set up a double date with them and her wife which quickly turns into a heist. River’s idea of a good time.

The Wedding of River Song (4.5k - 1/1 - Fluff/Romance - General) - The Doctor has a special Valentine’s Day surprise planned for River. With the help of their many friends, she’s planning on giving River the wedding she deserves.

We Don’t Have to Use Words (6k words - 2/2 - Romance/Smut) - Liv and Helen come to terms with their feelings for each other following the events of UNIT dating.

When The Doctor Comes To Call (5k words - 1/1 - Fluff/Humour - General) - The Eleventh Doctor and the Pond family respond to a distress call from someone that clearly knows how to contact the TARDIS. The family outing continues on a little planet where a doctor is desperately needed.

When the Wind Stands Fair (32k words - 10/10 - Action/Adventure/Romance - Explicit) - The Doctor steals River away for a whirlwind date in ancient Rome. She quickly realises these fleeting moments will never be enough. She had to find a way to rescue her from the Library at last.

World Enough, And Time (63k words - 15/15 - Action/Adventure - Mature) - River is pregnant when leaving Darillium to chase after the mystery of the Timeless Child. She entrust her newborn to Vastra and Jenny when she sets off to the Library looking for clues. When the Paternoster Gang reach out to the Doctor, their message arrives far later than expected.

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ambientstars · 4 years

Note

Could I please request w!master being the queen of aftercare? 💛

Hi! Thank you for the request!

Gif credit: @samosevie

note: something a little different, but I hope you all like it. A little smutty, but nothing too graphic! Remember, aftercare is important (whether it be a little or a lot) and the safe word you choose should always be used when needed, no matter who you’re with and how you feel about them. Your safety and wellbeing is the most most thing!

- - -

You knelt on the bed, The Master right behind you in the same position. She held you flush against her body, your bare skin on hers, one hand around your throat and effectively holding your head back against her shoulder, and the other playing with the heat between your legs.

She nipped at the side of your neck, feeling your rapid pulse against her lips, your skin sticky with sweat and producing a sweetness she couldn’t resist.

With your eyes squeezed close and your mouth agape, gasping shallow breaths in your pleasure filled need, you held onto The Master’s arms, keeping her close.

“Is my pet strong enough to continue?” The Master mumbled in your ear, her hand between your thighs picking up speed, the hand on your neck tightening.

You’d been at this for hours, changing positions and pushing new boundaries, and you were tired, weak. You lost count of how many orgasms The Master had brought you to, your body on fire and your muscles burning.

You should’ve stopped a long time ago, your skin raw and your head pounding, but you kept it up so that your lover could feel pleasure until she was ready to stop. Unfortunately for you, her timelord body could go all day, meaning until you said so, she would for as long as she could.

“Yes.”

She slapped the inside of your thigh suddenly, causing a sharp gasp to escape you. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.”

She hummed her approval and continued her work, pushing you forwards into the bed so that your chest pressed into the mattress and your behind stayed up in the air, The Master still kneeling behind you.

“Hands behind your back.”

You did as you were told, balancing yourself with your face on the pillow as you moved your arms to hold your wrists together behind you. The Master bound your hands together with a silk tie from her dresser, tying it tightly so that you couldn’t escape it.

Now that you were in a position for her to access everything she wanted with ease, she slowly trailed a finger from the top of your spine all the way to the bottom of it, goosebumps rising in it’s path.

“Are you sure?”

You weren’t sure, not really. You were tired, sore and so lightheaded, you could pass out, but you took a deep breath and nodded. The only thing that mattered to you was The Master’s pleasure, not your own.

She went back to work, bringing electricity to your veins and stars behind your eyelids, a pressure in your lower stomach building and building, almost ready to combust.

You vocalised your feelings into the pillow beneath your face, your legs shaking and doing a poor job of keeping you up right. The Master used her free hand to give you leverage under your hips, helping you stay up.

“Tell me when.”

You barely heard her over the ringing in your ears, your hips bucking against her touch.

“I can’t.”

You received a sharp spank to the cheek of your behind, the stinging travelling throughout your whole body. “You will do as you’re told, pet.”

You cried out, desperate for something. Release, the end, just something.

The Master kept up her rhythm, never missing a beat, hitting all the right spots each time she moved. Despite her dominance, she was gentle and made sure never to hurt you, not unless you asked for it and even then she was hesitant.

With a fractured breath, you tried to signal her with your tied up hands, trying to get her attention so that she could see that you were at your limit, but she had moved down to press wet kisses into the backs of your thighs and couldn’t see.

Panic set in and you were sure you were going to throw up, your breathing dangerously quick, your legs kicking. The coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands, your throat strained and unable to make a noise.

Then everything went quiet and all there was was darkness.

- -

You awoke on your back, your hands untied and a soft blanket covering your still naked form. A cold damp cloth had been pressed against your forehead, cooling your previously flushed face to a normal temperature.

“Drink.”

You were handed a glass of cold water by The Master who sat by your side on the edge of the bed, now covered by a thin robe.

You did as you were told and drank the whole glass, The Master’s finger underneath it to keep it tilted and you drinking until it was gone. She returned the glass to the dressing table where a small plate of biscuits also sat.

“What was that?”

She didn’t sound mad, but not happy either. Probably confused.

“I don’t-“

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was pushing you too far?”

“I just wanted-“

“You have a safe word for a reason.” She raised a brow, a stern look on her pretty face.

You lowered your head, your fingers playing with the hem of the blanket across you. “I know, I just-“

“You do remember your safe word, don’t you?” She asked and you nodded. “Tell me, what is your safe word?”

“Blue.”

She smiled warmly, her eyes softening. “Good. Please use it next time. It’s there for your safety and wellbeing.”

A sigh escaped you. “I wanted to please you.”

The Master was quick to scramble onto the bed completely and grabbed you in a gentle hold, your head on her chest. “You do please me, darling.”

“I wanted to keep going, for you.” Tears prickled at your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling. “I want to be what you need.”

She stroked your hair and pressed kisses onto the top of your head, her arms tightening around you. “The only thing I need is for you to be happy and healthy, and you forcing yourself to keep going until you pass out is not happy or healthy, is it?”

“No.” She heard you perfectly despite your barely there whisper, embarrassment clear in your tone.

“Look at you, my beautiful human.” She lifted your head from her chest and admired your face lovingly, her thumb stroking across your cheek. “You’re perfect just the way you are, and you did so well today.”

She reached down to pull you into a kiss so soft and affectionate, you almost forgot where you were. You stayed like that for a few minutes until she moved her head away and smiled at your pout.

“Come on, bath time.”

Usually you would walk to the bathroom, although sometimes with difficulty after a heavy session, but this time The Master carried you, scooping you up in her strong arms and demanding that you take a biscuit to eat on the way there for your sugar levels.

She must’ve begun running the bath when you passed out because it was ready when you got there, the smell of cotton and eucalyptus in the air.

She placed you delicately in the tub, slipping in right behind you and pulling you into her body. You relaxed against her, the warm soapy water and her fingers massaging your neck helping your muscles to unwind.

“You’re so good to me.” You moaned without realising, your body finally feeling normal again, the warmth in the pit of your stomach building once more.

The Master’s hands moved lower, over your shoulders, down your chest and stopping at your stomach.

“Only the best for my love.” She replied, peppering kisses along the side of your neck where her soothing fingers had been.

You took a hold of her hand and moved it lower, your need for her returning. You whined when she pulled her hand away in favour of keeping it on the innocent parts of your body. “No more today. You need to rest.”

“Please.” You pleaded, desperation dripping from your voice. You knew she loved it when you begged, her walls breaking down a little more each time you did. “I need you.”

She groaned, your begging taking effect. “Later.”

“No, now.” You ground against her, the water swirling around you and making pretty patterns with the bubbles. “Please, Master. I need you.”

She suddenly grabbed your face and forced you to look at her, her eyes dark and her jaw clenched. “Your safe word, what is it?”

“Blue.”

“And will you use it if you need to?”

Her hand slipped between your legs, the water giving you a new sensation when she touched you where you wanted her. “Yes.”

With a final tender kiss to your lips, she began to finish her work from before.

#whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master #jodie whittaker #doctor who imagine #dw imagine #please practice aftercare #smut?

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thoscheitrashdhawan · 4 years

Text

Cutting Edge

Relationship: Thirteenth Doctor x Dhawan!Master

Words: 1,094

Summary: The Doctor isn't very good at cooking. The Master offers to help her. He gets a little too close.

“You were never any good at cooking, were you?” The Master sighed, holding a fire extinguisher as he stood outside the TARDIS kitchen.

“Not really,” she stared into the room, looking distraught. “I think I’m going to have to ask the TARDIS to delete the whole room, now.”

With a sigh, the Doctor closed the door, and it instantly disappeared. A few moments later, another replaced it, and the Master leaned the fire extinguisher against the wall before following her through.

“Maybe you should just stick to making sandwiches.” He was sure the TARDIS would prefer not to have her rooms set on fire, and he would prefer not to have to run through the many hallways with a heavy fire extinguisher to find the source of the deafening alarm.

The Doctor screwed up her nose in response, clearly not a fan of the idea. She liked trying new things, and she liked being good at things, and she really couldn’t stand the fact that there was something she wasn’t good at.

“Or,” he started, knowing that if he didn’t offer another option she would end up burning down the kitchen again, “I could help you cook something.”

Instantly, her face lit up. And although he hated to admit it, the Master might have been fighting to keep down a smile in return. “Yeah- thanks, that’d be brilliant!”

With a nod, the Master opened the fridge, staring at it as he tried to think of something they could make. Of course, he’d much prefer just landing somewhere and getting some food (it would probably be a lot nicer than anything they’d make, as well as saving them time) but he’d already agreed to help. “Let’s start off with something easy. ” There had to be something he could show her - preferably something that wouldn’t involve her having to touch the oven. But based on the ingredients they had, that probably wouldn’t be possible. “Steak, potatoes and salad. That’s what we’ll have.” Surely she couldn’t burn the place down trying to make that , could she?

Throwing some of the ingredients at her with one hand (some she caught, some seemed to be deliberately thrown just slightly out of her reach), he closed the fridge door and got out a chopping board.

A little while later, they’d successfully done everything except the salad, and the Master was sitting on a stool watching as she cut up the vegetables.

“You’re holding the knife wrong.” The Doctor sighed, adjusted her grip slightly, then instantly moved back to the way she’d been holding it before. “You’re still holding the knife wrong.”

Before she’d had a chance to try again, the Master was standing behind her. As he reached around her body to help adjust her grip, his body pressed up against her back. There was no way he needed to stand that close to her, but he would always take every opportunity to get as close to the Doctor as physically possible. (Except for when he didn’t want her touching him - sometimes he craved every kind of contact, and sometimes he felt more comfortable in complete isolation. When he was in a bad mood, a gentle touch could feel too much like pain.)

In this moment, the Master was in a good mood, and he rested his chin on her shoulder as his hands wrapped around hers, starting to guide them so that it was really him doing the chopping, and her hands were simply utensils. The knife slid through the tomato she’d been holding, and he cut the perfect slice. Knives had always been something he’d been good at handling.

He moved his hands away, then, but he didn’t step back. Instead, his hands gripped the countertop, effectively caging her in. In other circumstances, she might be worried (not scared, because as much as he always wanted her to be, she could never be scared of him), but in this moment she was happy to act like this was just a hug. The two of them didn’t hug often, so it was nice.

“Well done.” He murmured as she continued slicing in the way he’d shown her, and the Doctor absently wondered how he’d managed to move even closer , because now she could feel his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke.

After a moment, he seemed to get bored of standing there, watching and doing nothing. The Doctor started to notice this when he pressed kisses to her neck, nipped at one particular spot and then flicked his tongue over it as an apology.

Her breath hitched, and it was a few seconds later that the Doctor suddenly realised she’d been standing there and simply letting him kiss her, completely forgetting that she’d been trying to do something.

“I need to get the lettuce.”

It was meant to be a subtle way of asking him to move, but he didn’t take the hint. Once she realised he had no intention of doing so, she spun around to face him, and any thoughts of pushing him away quickly left her mind when she found that her face was just inches away from his.

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, and she’d barely had time to process what was happening when she realised she was already kissing him back.

Kissing the Master was always so… different. It was the same (because no matter what body he had, it was always him ) but they all felt different , too. (And the Doctor would know, because she’d kissed almost all of them.)

Teeth nipped at her bottom lip, and if it hadn’t been with him then she probably wouldn’t have relished in it as she did now.

All too soon, he was breaking the kiss. An arm reached blindly behind him (he didn’t want to have to break their closeness by moving) and moments later there was a lettuce in her arms.

“Oh.” She said, blinking down at it for a moment. “Thanks.”

As soon as the Doctor had turned around, the Master was pressing closer once again, letting their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. She quickly finished making the salad with hands that were faintly shaking (that kiss had been hot , and it hadn’t left her unaffected) as the Master’s hips rocked against her ever so slightly. He mouthed at the back of her neck as one hand held her hair to the side, and the second she was done he grabbed the knife, stabbing it into the chopping board. The way she jumped slightly made him chuckle.

“Lesson’s over.”

#thirteenth doctor/dhawan!master #thirteenth doctor x dhawan!master #dhawan!master #thirteen #jodie whittaker #fluff #smut #my fic #fan fiction #thirteenth doctor #spydoc #thirster #thoschei

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noforkingclue · 2 years

Note

Reader trapped between devious 13 and Valeyard (or Whittaker!Master?)? I know you don't write smut but some definite seductive fondling?

P.S: Love ALL your work! Kisses! *quiteFrenchthat*

Thank you anon! That means a lot :D

I did misread your request and made the a Valeyard x reader x W!Master. Hope you don't mind!

Title: An Impossible Decision

Doctor Who tag list: @v4n1r, @queerconfusionthings, @yourneighbourhoodclown, @love-of-fandoms, @emilythezeldafan, @fabulous-jj-style, @theseeker945, @pleadingeyes, @kjaneway1, @truthbehindthemysteries, @im-a-muggleborn, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @mythandmagik, @geocookie21, @zerocanonlywriteshit, @thewinterpoet2, @anteroom-of-death, @night467

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian

The woman in front of you was not the woman you knew. A grin spread across her face as she stalked towards you, brushing a strand of her now brown hair out of her eyes. You swallowed thickly as you took a step back.

“Who are you?” you asked

“I don’t like stupid questions.”

“You told me that there’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

“Did I?” she paused and looked confused, “I don’t- oh,” she clicked her fingers, “I remember. You’re thinking of who I used to be.”

“Doc-“

“Don’t,” she hissed, “Call me that. I’m not that person anymore.”

“Clearly.”

You froze at the new voice. The same and yet so different. While it was just as cold there was a hint of something else to it. An amusement and arrogance that could only come from one person. Neatly manicured hands place themselves on your shoulders and you were roughly pulled against a warm chest. Hands trailed down your shoulders and wrapped tightly around your waist as the second person rested her chin against your shoulder. Red lips were pulled in a smirk and the brown haired Doctor gritted her teeth in irritation.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped

“Interesting,” the other Doctor dug her nails into your shoulders, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Doc-“

“Sorry pet,” the other woman said, her voice clipped and icy, “I’m not your precious Doctor either.”

“Then who are you?”

“Come now,” her voice turned mocking, “You know that, my clever human. I am the Doctor’s best enemy after all, I don’t waste time on people who aren’t up to my standards.”

“Best… enemy? You’re the Master.”

“Well done,” the Master pressed a kiss against your cheek, “Clever girl. I knew you’d get it.”

“But you-“

“Alternative universes, darling,” she said, “Tearing the fabric of reality, blah blah blah. Best not to think about it.”

“Why? Because I wouldn’t understand it.”

“No. Because it’s very boring and I can think and I can think of far more interesting things I’d like to do to you.”

“No. What you’re going to do is give her back to me.”

You jumped, completely forgetting the other person in front of you.

“Then who’s she,” you asked, “If she’s not the Doctor.”

“Oh y/n,” the Master stroked your hair, “She is the Doctor but only the parts that she’d hidden from you. The person who burnt a thousand civilisations to the ground. The person who destroyed Gallifrey in the name of stopping a war. On your adventures, how many people do you think are left in her path of destruction? Who can’t go back to their families or homes because she destroyed them?”

“The Doctor isn’t like that.” You said weakly

“She is,” the Master’s voice turned mocking, “The only difference between the Doctor and myself is that I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. Tell me,” this was directed at the other woman, “Do you still go by the same name, Valeyard?”

The Valeyard smirked and nodded. A sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach as she walked slowly over towards you.

“And you have my human.” She said

“Hmm,” the Master seemed to be in the deep thought, “No, I don’t think I do. You see, where I’m from y/n belonged to me and I intend to bring her back there.”

“Just so you can kill her all over again.”

“No,” the Master snapped, “I’ve learnt from previous mistakes. Y/n will have a better life with me as opposed to being constantly tortured by you. Whether you like it or not, you used to be the Doctor. Do you really think that y/n will accept your ne views?”

“Can you stop speaking like I’m not here.” You said softly

“Oh my dear,” the Valeyard grasped your chin and forced you to look into her eyes, “Poor little human. You look so confused. However, it’s time for you to make a choice.”

“And believe me,” the Master’s lips grazed the shell of your ear, “Neither of us are going to take no for an answer. You’re going to have a fight on your hands, so make up your mind carefully.”

#fanfiction #doctor who #reader insert #request #whittaker!master #whittaker!master x reader #The Valeyard #the valeyard x reader

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bloody-cupcakes · 4 months

Note

I am craving a pt2 of the yandere Whittaker!Master fic 🗣🗣‼️‼️

anon your wish is very much my command (a part three might be in order if you enjoy this one too) (part one is here btw)

Yandere/dark Whittaker! Master x reader; after trying to escape, you're forced to make it up to her to avoid punishment

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, nsfw/smut, pretty obviously implied Stockholm syndrome, somewhat mean femdom, oral sex/cunnilingus (Master receiving), the reader is referred to as pet by the Master in a way that's both degrading and affectionate, brief mention of the Master's dacryphilia kink, the Master is a little more cold and uncaring here than in the last one, the reader purposely acts like a brat near the end (which includes them performing a dubcon-ish sexual act on the Master)

"Get to work."

You had been taught well, for no sooner than her commanding words rang through your ears did you help to unbutton her pants and pull them down far enough to expose her already wet pussy to you. The sight alone was enough to make you drool.

"Master..." You softly mumbled out her name, unable to keep yourself from staring. No one else could ever hold a candle to how your Master looked when naked: she was ethereal, a true beauty from beyond this world. You were quite certain she was even the most gorgeous thing on all of Gallifrey, but that might've just been the Stockholm syndrome talking.

It took everything in her not to just shove your face towards her pussy out of impatience. "Come on now, pet, I haven't got all day." Her voice immediately brought you out of the trance like state you had been stuck in as something only she could do.

You felt your face heat up as you realized you'd been staring for longer than you'd thought, noting the obvious irritation in her voice. "Sorry, Master." Shuffling forward while still on your knees, you brought yourself closer to the area right between her thighs before obediently burying your face in her pussy.

The loud groan she emitted from that action alone rose your confidence levels, spurring you on even more. Your tongue quickly worked to move along her folds, wetting them with your spit (not that they really needed it, as she had been previously aroused by your earlier act of crying).

"Good pet... Doing so well for me, I'm so proud of you..." A gloved hand reached out to rest on top of your head, not-so-subtly pressing your face further into her crotch.

Muffled noises of content could be heard coming from you as you happily ate her out, no longer feeling as pathetic and worthless as you did earlier. You knew your Master would never get rid of you, even if you did misbehave on occasion. You were her darling little pet, after all.

It didn't take very long for her breathing to quicken and her body to tense up, a sure sign that she was close to the edge. Desperate to have her cum on your face, you pressed on, despite the fact that it was becoming more and more difficult for you to breathe.

Her hand tightened its grip on your head slightly while her hips rolled upwards against your face, greedily chasing her climax. As selfish as it may have sounded, she honestly didn't care if you passed out at that point from lack of oxygen. It would serve you right for disobeying her.

Once she was properly satisfied, she switched her movements, using her hand to push your face away from her instead of pulling you closer. "Enough, pet. I think we're done here."

A low whimper came from you in protest, not wanting to let up just yet. You kept licking and kissing at her folds until she let out a growl in response, roughly yanking your head back. "I said, enough."

You looked up at her from where you knelt at her feet, the lower half of your face glistening with her juices. Your bottom lip was jutted outwards in a bratty pout, showing how displeased you were with having to stop. "Master, I wasn't done yet."

She scowled at you in response, reaching her hand back down to lightly flick you on the nose the same way someone might do to a disobedient dog. "You're done when I say you're done. Don't talk back to me, or I'll change my mind on letting you get away without punishment for running off."

Instead of cowering in fear like she thought, you leaned forward and gave her clit a defiant suck. She was certain her knees would've buckled right then and there from overstimulation had she been standing.

The smirk on your face from the surprised gasp she let out told her you knew exactly what you were doing and were now deciding to act out on purpose. "You want to act like a brat? Fine," she snarled while grabbing your face roughly, infuriated by the smug look that was now on your face.

"Then I'll treat you like one."

#i had tons of fun writing this omg #dark fic #dark doctor who #yandere doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who imagine #whittaker!master #whittaker!master imagine #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master smut #yandere whittaker!master #yandere x reader #yandere x darling

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fxlling13 · 15 days

Text

Spooky Season

Dh!Master x (fem)!reader

Wc:2.8k

Fluff fluff fluff.

Synopsis: The Doctor takes everyone to a cosy little pumpkin farm

“You make me laugh, (y/n).” Yaz scoffed as you walked into the console room. “It’s September the first, and you’re wearing a pumpkin sweater?” She laughed, leaning back on the console. You nod quickly, standing at the top of the steps.

“Of course! September first is the start of spooky season.” You explained, sitting a few stairs down. The pair of you giggled, she knew of your love for the ‘ber’ months. In fact, she helped you indulge in it, getting you a themed blanket the year prior.

“Do you think The Doctor will let me decorate my room here?”

“Oh yeah, she loves fun things. Not sure she’ll be a fan of all the black though.” Yaz realised, thinking for a moment. “It’s fine, you can bond with Mr Grumpy!” She beamed, making your brows crease.

“Mr Grumpy?” You asked with amusement, knowing full well who she was referring to.

“Well, he is moody.” Yaz chuckled. “But he loves dark and gloomy things. He dresses like a gothic vampire most days, in that Victorian coat.”

“It looks good though.” You mumbled and Yaz shook her head at you. Just then, The Doctor jogged into the room with a big smile on her face.

“Ah, you’re both here already!” She stood by Yaz, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Talking about anything interesting?”

“Just (y/n)’s love for autumn.” Humming in acknowledged, the blonde smiled at you.

”Yeah? Lots happen at the end of the year on earth, Halloween. Christmas.” She recalled, looking up at the ceiling in wonder.

“Halloween is the best!” You clarified, making the girls laugh a bit more. From nowhere, hands landed on your shoulders with a jolt.

“Boo.” A deep voice spoke loudly by your ear at the same time. You yelped, flinching violently. When you glanced back, you found The Master leering proudly.

“What? You just said you liked Halloween.” He shrugged, walking past you down the steps. Once at the bottom, he turned back to you and nod to himself slowly.

“Nice jumper.” He commented, your lips turning up again. You were wearing a black jumper, with different sized pumpkins sewn throughout. They were all odd styles and colours.

“Thank you.” For a minute, he froze, before pulling himself away and looking at the others.

“So what sappy place are you taking us today?” The Master asked, hoping no one had noticed his odd behaviour. The Doctor ran around the console.

“Well, considering the topic of this morning. How about a farm?” She suggested, already flicking buttons and other controls.

“A farm?” Yaz frowned.

“Yeah! With a pumpkin patch!” She boasted, making the girl smile again.

“Really?” You stood up hopefully.

“Yeah. It’ll be great. We can get as many as you guys want. Oh! And there’s a cafe there so we can get food!” Clearly, she was more excited about the idea than even you were. Still, you nod happily. The Tardis landed with a thud, sending everyone flying. You tumbled down the steps, The Master easily catching you. Holding under your arms, he smiled cockily.

“Falling for me?” You went red, pulling away fast.

“In your dreams.”

“Ok you two, stop flirting. Pumpkins to pick!” Yaz chortled, not helping your flushed state at all. Shaking her head, The Doctor pulled Yaz outside with a huff. The Master, still smiling, extended his hand towards you. You raised your eyebrows.

“Come on, you can at least hold my hand right? Or is that too much?” He joked, but you held his hand regardless, allowing him to guide you out of the tardis. It was sunny outside, but not too warm with a small breeze. Having landed in a woodland area, your small group walked for a few minutes before seeing the white farm building. The chipped walls were enough to tell you just how old it was, sat on vast, lush land. There were animals dotted around some of the fields, a path heading up a small hill. Upon getting to the farm, you were greeted by an old lady.

“Here for the pumpkin festival dears?” She inquired, face filled with joy. There were many others already there, mostly families and couples.

“Yep.” Yaz stepped forwards, pulling out her phone and paying for your tickets. Being let through, you walked by her side, tugging the male along.

“You didn’t have to pay for us all.”

“It’s fine. Lunch is on you.” She chuckled, nudging you playfully. But you smiled, happy with that arrangement. Traipsing up the shallow hill, you came to find the pumpkin patch. Surrounded by a worn, dark oak fence, it had a wooden arch as its entrance. On a big sign above, “pumpkins here” was written in cursive, expertly done. Rows of the root grown plant went on far and wide, people of all ages trying to find the perfect one.

“We’ll meet you down by the cafe.” Yaz said, hastily taking the Doctor off in a random direction.

“And then there were two.” The Master drawled, looking down at you.

“Awe don’t sound so happy. I know you love me really.” You elbowed him gently, walking ahead into the vast amounts of orange and green. He watched you for a minute, unaware that he was smiling. Turning back, you tilted your head. “Come on!” You reached out, the man chuckling and joining you swiftly. He followed behind you, your hair swishing with every step.

“We have to find the most round, most plump, most orange pumpkins to carve.” You said with certainty, scanning your surrounding area.

“Hm. If you say so.” The Master started walking by your side. “Why plump?”

“So I can use the innards to bake.” You clarified.

“You said that so…threateningly.” He laughed, placing a hand on your back as you both went along. Leaning closer to the man, you felt more relaxed that way.

“That one!” You almost yelled, carefully running between the vines. The Master observed you with fondness, going at a much more casual pace.

“This one?” He asked, standing opposite you. You nod, eyeing the large pumpkin. “It’s massive, (y/n).”

“Exactly. It’s perfect!” When you smiled at him, he was already doing the same. There was a look in his eye that you just couldn’t describe, almost like he was entranced. Trying not to get flustered from his intense gaze, you moved to pick the pumpkin up. In a flash, The Master was behind you, his hands on your waist and stopping you from bending. Your cheeks went red, looking back at him with a bashful confusion.

“You’re wearing a skirt.” He stated simply, not letting you go. “There’s lots of men around here.”

“There’s girls too.” You pointed out, a slight wobble in your inflection. Humming, he turned you to face him and brushed your hair back.

“Statistically, men are more likely to be predatory. And I don’t really want other men looking at you like that.” The Master spoke sternly, making your blush worsen.

“So you tell me what it is you’ll like, and I’ll do the lifting. Okay?” It was more of an instruction than a question, but you bobbed your head regardless. Grinning, he kissed your head sweetly, before bending down and cutting the stalk carefully. Still in shock, you just gawked at the noirette. Once the pumpkin was free, he lifted it with ease.

“Wait, other men?” You realised what he said, eyes shooting to him once again. He just shrugged nonchalantly.

“See any others you like, dear?” Your heart was hammering in your chest, all the while he seemed unfazed. Shaking your head, you started looking around once again. When your head was turned, you couldn’t hide your shy smile.

———

Three pumpkins and a wheelbarrow later, the two of you went to pay. There was a small gazebos at the top of the hill you had climbed. A man stood inside, with his cash box and weighing scale. The Master wheeled the pumpkins to him, greeting the man quietly. Going to pull out your phone, he stopped you quickly.

“I dropped something.”

“What?” You were perplexed.

“Outside, I’m pretty sure I did.” He said, hands searching his coat.

“What do you even own?” You asked and he just gave you a serious look. Realising it may have been some sort of weapon, you rolled your eyes before looking at the man. “I’ll be two seconds.” You apologised before heading back outside. After scouring the area nearby, you found nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. Even with all the children around, the grass was clear. “Ready to meet the others?” You jumped, finding The Master, and wheelbarrow, now behind you.

“Hey I haven’t paid yet.”

“No. I did.” He shrugged, placing a hand on his hip. Your face softened, taking a few steps forwards.

“You did?” You asked bewildered, struggling to keep up as he made his way back down the hill.

“Yep. Do you think people will take them if we leave them out here?”

“Huh? Oh no. They have the red stickers on them.” You answered still confused, watching as he left them by the entrance to the cafe.

“Yes but humans are conniving and selfish.” He spat, earning a hurt look from you. Letting out a breath, The Master moved and cupped your cheeks. “You don’t count, obviously.” You couldn’t help your smile, leaning into his hand contently.

“Thank you, for buying them.”

“You’re welcome, sweets.” He laced your fingers together, guiding you into the cafe. It wasn’t a very big building, but spacious enough that it was cozy. With a cracking fire on the back wall, rustic brick walls and old wooden floors, you loved it. The Master took you to the table right by the fire, allowing you to sit closest to it. You smiled widely, shuffling closer to him once he sat too.

“How long do you think the others will be?” You pondered, admiring the paintings in the room.

“No idea, you know how The Doctor is. She’s like a magpie.” He muttered, picking up a menu and letting out a breath. After a moment of internal debating, you rested your head on his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind at all, adjusting so you could see the menu too.

“I think you’ll want this page.” He flipped to the other side, showing you the different cakes, bakes, cookies and more. Pressing your cheek to his arm, you giggled quietly.

“You know me so well.” You commented, eyes flittering over all the options.

“Of course, I do notice these things.” The Master said, looking at you proudly. Pressing your lips together, you suppressed your happiness badly.

“You’re quite sweet. Even with all the evil plans you have.”

“Ah, but you’re always safe with me, are you not?” He pointed out, clearly smug.

“Of course I am.” Hugging onto his arm, you began to feel doubt and nerves creep into your mind. Even though he didn’t seem to mind, you found yourself asking, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?”

“Well, I know you’re not a very touchy, affectionate person. And I am. So does it not bother you? That I’m like this?” You kept your eyes on the table as you spoke, on the different shades of wood-stain used. Tentatively, The Master tilted your chin up trying to meet your gaze.

“It’s different when it’s you.” He reassured, thumbing the apple of your cheek. “My emotional support human.” You blushed, lips twitching up slightly. “Plus, you’re different. You’re spooky. I like it.”

“Like a witch?” You beamed, back to your normal self.

“No, you’re far prettier than a witch.” He chuckled, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment.

“What have we walked in on then?” The Doctors voice came from nowhere, but you were unmoved. Huffing in annoyance, the male just looked at her bored.

“Nothing. Hurry up and look at the menu. We’re hungry.”

“Alright calm down.” Yaz laughed, looking along with the blonde. “Oh I don’t know.” She mumbled, rereading it again.

“You’ll get something warm, like soup.” Both women looked at him with surprise.

“Yeah you’re right I was going to. How did you know that?” Yaz almost laughed again, letting The Doctor take the menu for herself.

“Because you always do. Just Like The Doctor will get the custard tart.”

“Oh custard tart!” The Doctor beamed at the exact time The Master said it. She looked over at him with a faux glare. You giggled, watching them interact.

“See, I’m very attentive.” The Master boasted, subtly bringing you closer as he moved. Sadly, he had to stand up. “Shall we do the ordering?” He asked his old friend, to which she nod and got to her feet.

“Wait I didn’t even tell you what I picked.” You said quickly, sitting straight. Simpering, he just pat your head twice then went to the counter with The Doctor.

“He’s so into you.” Yaz spoke, gaining your full attention. You blushed, shrugging softly.

“You think so?”

“Even The Doctor knows, (y/n).” She pointed out, putting the sugar jar in front of her girlfriend’s place ready. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. “Look at you. You’re lovesick.”

“Oh stop it.” You shot back weakly, earning a chortle from her. Turning around, you observed the aliens in such a human setting with fondness. “Can I be a bridesmaid?” She asked, resting her head on her hands. You just scoffed returning to face her.

“Only if I can be for you too.”

“Oh, of course. Who else would I pick?” The pair of you laughed together, unaware of the others coming back. The Doctor carefully placed a tray on the table, sliding it into the middle.

“What are you two giggling about?” She questioned, sitting once again.

“Nothing important.”

“Yeah nothing for you two to know about.” You confirmed, The Master taking his seat next to you.

“Yet.” Yaz finished, causing another fit of laughs. The time lords exchanged looks, as if speaking through osmosis. Humming, the man put a teapot in front of you, along with a mug and small pot of milk.

“Whatever you say.” He murmured, your eyes lighting up when you saw the brownie he had gotten you.

“Before you ask, yes it’s been warmed up. And-“ he took a small dish and sat it next to your cup. “-cream to your liking.”

“Thank you.” You smiled happily, making yourself a nice cup of tea. The Doctor did indeed have a custard tart, as Yaz had a bowl of steaming tomato soup.

“You three and your sweet tooth’s.” Yaz rolled her eyes, buttering her bread. Turning your head, you saw that The Master had gotten himself a slice of cake. With a cherry on top too. A glacier cherry.

“Do you want it?” He suddenly asked, making you jump a bit. You furrowed your brows, him putting the sugary ‘fruit’ onto your brownie before you could speak.

“They’re more sappy than us.” The Doctor commented, adding multiple sugars to her brew.

“I know. And they’re not even dating.” Yaz added with a grin. You busied yourself with adding a bit of cream and nibbling on your brownie.

“Give us time.” The Master casually said, causing you to choke. He was quick to pat your back. “Easy love, I need you alive for that to happen.”

“Leave the poor girl alone.” The Doctor laughed, handing you a napkin. Your cheeks were bright red, heart racing as you wiped your mouth. Still, you were smiling, gazing up at The Master shyly. He smiled back, giving your nose an affectionate tap before sipping his coffee.

“So after here, let’s watch horror movies while we carve them yeah?” Yaz was sounding more autumnal now, eagerly suggesting her idea.

“That sounds perfect, what film?” The Doctor glanced at everyone there.

“I say The Exorcist.” The Master added his input, the group collectively groaning.

“Maybe after, on the sofa where we can all huddle up?” The blonde prompted, earning a reluctant nod.

“How about scream?” You recommended, getting a more positive reaction.

“Then it’s settled, what a great day this is ‘ay?” Even The Doctor was getting giddier than usual.

“See? It’s good to start celebrating spooky season early.” There was a snarky tone in your inflection, proving your earlier point to Yaz. Unbeknownst to you, The Master stared at you proudly, loving your cockiness.

“Fine, you were right.” She agreed, putting her spoon down before stirring her iced latte. “You two are like The Addams Family.”

“Oh I like that.” The Master leered, putting an arm around your shoulders possessively. Bashful, you leant into his hold and nod in approval. The four of you sat in close comfort, eating your food and drinking your seasonal drinks. Outside the wind was blustering, amber leaves falling from trees and making footsteps crunch. It really was the best time of the year.

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