#dhwan!master x female reader

[buggyboba]

Hypnotized

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | Hi my loves, sorry it took forever, but we did it! surprise! anyway I really said this man whines, and enjoys praises. I don't think I really gendered reader, so this is in fact for the girls, the gays and the theys~ It is smut so like mdni, proceed with caution. I did do TWs, so there is that. I could use some comments, I was really flippant about this one, like ya'll almost didn't get it, I almost scrapped it, but we are here so hopefully you all like it~

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Dhawan!master x Reader (GN)

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | Anon asked | The reader and the master are together in the library and the reader confesses to the master some things that they want to try in the bedroom to heat things up (including sexual hypnosis) and how the reader would like to be in control. The master agrees, and they both then go into the bedroom and do those things. After a while, the master snaps his fingers, revealing that the reader had been hypnotized the entire time. the reader the master never left the library (its up to you if the reader remembers or not.) Either way the master now knows the reader's hidden desires and wants to try them for real sometime soon.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | SMUT, unprotected sex, not really gender descriptive. Hypnosis. petnames, hand job briefly.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 2700

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

The library was peaceful, and the fire that you two sat in front of warmed your bones; it was nice after a long, stressful day of running and crime. Maybe crime was putting it mildly; it could have been war crimes, but he kept you out of it on a need-to-know basis, and you didn’t need to know. You looked through an old book, thinking on some things, and one thing had been on your mind lately: you enjoyed being physical with him when he let you; he was oddly touchy lately. Like right now, he was leaning against your shoulder as he read his own book, fixing the glasses he wore every so often. The silence between you two was comfortable, the crackle of the fire and low music from the record player. Classical; sometimes it was rock or 70s pop; sometimes it was ‘current’ pop. The Master had a wide range of musical interests, but the classical music was fitting for the mood. You lazily let your fingers trail through his hair; you swore he shifted to move into the touch, but you knew better than to say anything.

“I've been thinking.” You started.

“Oh, that's dangerous, pet.” He smirked, not looking up from his book; he licked his thumb and flipped the page.

“Hey! Seriously, I want to try some…” You paused, trying to form the words correctly, to articulate exactly what you wanted. “New things.” You continued.

“New things? Is space and time travel getting boring to you, dear?” He mused and looked at you, snapping the book closed.

“No! No, not no.” You shook your head. “That is still very exciting, and I adore traveling with you.” You clarified quickly. “And before you get ideas, I enjoy you, adore you, but there are some things in a more intimate setting that I would like to explore with you.” You said it felt like you were trying to do a proper negotiation with him. He chuckled and sat up.

“What proper words for saying you have some deeper kinks.” He teased, and you cleared your throat, a blush against your cheeks. “Oh, go on, I'm sure I've heard worse.” He grinned and patted your knee, leaning back. You nodded and took a breath in, trying to decide exactly what you wanted to say.

“Well, it’s something that will benefit us both.” You started; he tilted his head slightly, looking at you with those dark brown eyes.

“You don’t have to bargain with me, you know this, My Dear.” He said there was almost a slight pout. You gave a weak, breathy chuckle and shook your head; of course, you knew you could just say what you wanted and hoped he would oblige.

“Well, I mean, I…have a few requests.” You settled on and nodded, “I would like to explore being the one in control. I know it’s a big ask, considering your whole thing is ‘The Master.’ But I think it could create a new dynamic, and then there is an opposite of that. I know you, um... hypnotize,” you said, searching his face.

“I can…in fact do that, yes…it’s a fun little thing I can do.” He said his face was unreadable, and you hated that; you wanted to know what he thought of your requests. “Is that all, pet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because the way you made it sound, it was like you were going to ask for something heavy…not that I mind heavy.” He looked pensive for a moment before he gave you that charming grin of his.

“I mean, for the moment, yes.” You gave a sort of curt nod, and he frowned.

“You know if you want something, you can ask; we have been…intimate.” He decided on the word; you knew he viewed such acts as beneath him, but you also knew that wasn’t the full truth; he could say that, but his actions spoke louder than words, just like how he would say he had a human allergy, but then you would be trapped in his arms when he decided he finally needed sleep or craved contact. You found he was like a cat; everything had to be his idea, and he liked to pretend that you were just a passing fancy or a companion that he could prove his brilliance to and show off that he had one too. “And being open can lead us down some interesting paths,” he continued.

“Yes, I know that.” You nodded.

“And I do like to know everything about you…” He grinned; it was light, but also held a sort of sinister air to it, though that was something you had gotten familiar with. There were always little red flags; hell, the man himself was a red flag, but he would look at you with those eyes or say something so sweet it knocked you off your feet, and you told yourself the feelings you got weren’t just one-sided; you were his human, and while he was a killer and brute, the same hands that were stained in eons of blood would touch you with soft reverence. He always kept you safe; if he had wanted you dead or didn’t feel something, you would have been dead by now. You watched him shrink a man just for looking at you. Possessive came with the territory, but it didn’t matter at the end of the day; you loved that violent, funky alien.

“Well, one thing at a time, you know. Maybe later we can get into heavy things; right now I would be interested in starting slow, figuring out that dynamic a bit, maybe.” You said, He hummed watching you; he was silent for a few moments before he nodded. His hand moved up your arm, to your shoulder, and then to cup the side of your neck. You felt his fingers drum against your pulse point, a subconscious one-two-three-four, though now it was just an old habit for him. He leaned forward, and your lips parted softly, but the kiss you expected didn’t come. He chuckled at your over-eager action and how you melted, softly.

“You are a needy thing.” He whispered close to your lips, so close you felt his lips brush against the corner of yours, his thumb stroking your jawline. “But you are my needy thing.” He smirked, his nose crinkled up before his mouth was capturing the space between your jaw and neck. His tongue pressed, taking in the taste of your skin. He made a throaty growled sound as he pressed closer to you.

Your mind felt foggy, your body warm at his actions; you let a breathless chuckle escape, his fingers trailing down your arm, before gripping your wrist as he nipped at the spot his mouth pressed against, before sucking a deep mark into your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed out at the feeling; his teeth grazed your skin, biting just enough to give some pain before he pulled away, which pulled a sad sound from your throat, but his hand moved to grab yours, fingers tangled together as he stood up, pulling you up with him.

“You wanted to be in control, no?” He asked, looking you in the eye. You nodded a bit, and he moved to lead you out of the library; your head was spinning, hazy from the feeling, and your neck stung a bit from the love mark. Love bite? From whatever he had done to your neck. He opened the door and motioned you in, and you happily entered the familiar bed awaited, dark covers of black and sheets of deep purple. It was a good color combination, one that had been consistent between Missy and him; you didn’t know about the Lumiat; he barely talked about that time; he called it his ‘phase’ and left it at that.

You turned and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a kiss that was more biting and tongue than anything as you pulled him towards the bed. He grinned hungrily, kissing you back, his hands cupping your cheeks. As he let you lead him, he was mindful to not let either of you fall. As your hands moved to undo his shirt, barely breaking the kiss, his hands moved down to pull up your shirt, casting it aside. He broke the kiss to kiss the other side of your neck as you worked on getting him free from his pants and boxers. His arm wrapped around your waist as you quickly got out of your pants and underwear. The movements felt ravaging, unbridled, and passionate. You moved to push him against the bed; a low growl escaped his throat, and you were on him, straddling his hips as you captured his mouth, his hands moving to your hips and up to hold your waist, his fingers splayed across your lower back. You trailed your kisses to his neck, biting him, returning the favor of the earlier love bites. His fingers tightened against your back, and a low sound rumbled in his chest.

The sound turned higher, almost a whine, as you rolled your hips against his with a cheeky grin. You hadn’t expected that sound from him, but goddamn, you wanted to make him make it again. You peppered a few kisses against his lips, pulling back each time he tried to kiss you back, producing an annoyed sound from his lips. “You are a needy thing,” you hit him back with his line from earlier. He blinked at you, a scowl crossing his lips, but you kissed him again before he could say anything back to you. His hands ran up your back, and you took that as a sign to roll your hips again, slowly starting to rut against him; you could feel his arousal.

His breath hitched a bit as he slid his hands back down to your hips; clinging to them, he tried to pull you down more, and one of your hands grabbed his throat. You knew nothing would come of it, but it gave him pause at the display of control. “Nuh-uh.” You sounded your other hand, grabbing one of his wrists. “You get what I give you,” you warned; his eyes widened, and then he gave a sort of weak nod, watching you.

You hadn’t felt like this before, being the one in control, getting to set the pace, setting what pleasure that both of you were allowed. It felt good, him shifting beneath you; the way he pressed against you, you knew he couldn't handle giving control up for a long time, so you would take what you could.

“Say please.” You grinned as you moved your hand down your fingers wrapped around his aching member, his hips jolting as you grabbed him. The command registered in his mind barely; at least you weren't asking for him to say something nice.

“Now darling—” he began, with a low hiss as you stroked him, your thumb rubbing under and over the tip. “You expect me to beg?” He practically whined again. “I do not—” he was interrupted by your grip getting a bit tighter, and you moving to position above him, letting him tease against your entrance.

He wanted to thrust, to bury himself in your warmth; he could too; he could take control back and take what he wanted, but this was for you, he had to remind himself. He breathed out when you let the engorged tip sink in some. “Please!” The word came out quickly, almost desperately. It surprised both of you.

The foreign word from his lips caused you to grin more. “What was that?” You had moved your hands to his hips, holding them down so he couldn't push up into you. He looked at you, his features softened, looking at you with those soft, dark brown puppy dog eyes.

“Darling!” He started. “I…please!” he said, sounding exasperated at having to beg but needing to move, so he would play your game for now.

“What a good boy!” You purred out; his eyes flashed something, longing, excitement, at the praise. You filed that away for use at another time, something to see about later. “One more time, puppy.” You let your fingers graze his cheek. He had called you plenty of pet names; it was time you got to call him one. You liked this, being in control, bringing him down to this level; it made you feel good.

He frowned, “Stop teasing.” He breathed out, trying to buck up, but your one hand was firm on his hip. “Ah fine, please, Bunny, please.” He relented.

“See, not so hard, and I am benevolent; I won't make you beg more like you do to me.” You allowed yourself to sink down fully. A low moan escaped your lips; his hands moved to your thighs, holding them as if to anchor himself. His hips rolled up and drew another moan from your throat; you moved up, sinking back down, and finding your rhythm. His fingers dragged across your skin, moving up your sides and back down your stomach as you moved. Soft sighs and growled-out groans escaped him. He watched you bounce his eyes hazed with lust and something darker, yet his touch remained almost reverent, worshiping in his own way. He moved his hands to your arms as you put your hands on his chest to keep yourself steady, and he pulled them forward so you would lean down, his mouth capturing yours, his tongue tangled against yours, taking in your taste. His hands moved one at the nape of your neck and the other around your waist as he picked up the pace. His mouth swallowed your groans, and yours swallowed his; you felt the pooling tightness in your stomach, the pleasure starting to push at the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair as your sounds pitched higher, the kiss broke, and the cacophony of sound was freed; your cheek brushed against his, the stubble on his cheeks scraping against your skin as you panted and whined into his ear before your body shook and tensed. You groaned a low ‘Master’ into his ear as your pleasure washed over you. Your eyes closed, the hazy pleasure feeling washed over you and cleared.

When you opened your eyes, the crackling of the fire caught your attention; there he sat fully clothed, that cheeky smirk edging at his lips as he was reading his book. You were also fully clothed, though you felt the stickiness between your thighs, and your heart was still pounding. There was confusion in your eyes as you looked around, then back at him. “What?” you stammered.

“What?” He parroted and looked at you, closing his book again. “Oh…that…yes…you wanted to be hypnotized.” He said, Looking at you. “So I did. Then I wanted to see how far you would go and what images you could be guided to see, not hard to do, of course. And my, my, what a naughty pet.” He grinned.

You didn't know what emotion to land on, and your brows furrowed as you looked at him. “You mean…” you trailed off. How should you feel knowing that it wasn't real? God, it felt so real.

“Yeah. I wanted to know what would happen, so I indulged you, formed a hypothesis, and the results are quite interesting.” He grinned, looking at your thighs. “You asked, and I delivered.” He shrugged. “Funny how you picture me whining. I don't whine,” he mused. “Begging was a fun choice too. Did you like playing in control? Of course you did,” he said, shaking his head.

You scrunched your nose up and made an annoyed sound before you leaned over and bit him hard on the neck; the whine that turned into a hiss startled both of you, and he pulled away quickly. “Ah…yes, well…point made, Dear.” He muttered and put his hand to his neck, rubbing the spot where you bit.

You moved to get up, to go bathe and change, but before you got to the door, he called out. “Maybe tonight I'll indulge you with the real thing, pet.”

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

Taglist: @sessa23 @toastvogel @super-just-because @kurtsmellsliketeenspiritt @chaoswithrory @d3lta-200x @bobabats @koscheiluv @that-one-creep @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-noble-watermelon @penumbra-the-unicorn @lilyfrogisnotneurotypical @millabela @Variansimpclaire @neurodiverse-dumpingground @sirenympha @frillytimetraveler @skarkkie

If you would like to be added to the tag list [ x ]

[buggyboba]

Greetings, I hope you had a great weekend. If its okay with you I was wondering if I could please request a Dhawan!Master x reader (or you can choose another master instead if you want.) The reader is at a Halloween party dressed as Christine Daaé (from Phamtom of the Opera.) The reader sees someone dressed as the Phamtom and is almost compelled to follow the person and the reader ends up alone in a locked room with this person and a mirror but by the time the reader works out that it's the master it's too late and the reader is already hypnotised/captured

(Sorry if this is too details, please feel free to ignore or feel free to alter the characters' costumes.)

I hope you have a great day

AN 𓏧 ↳ ○ Hi hello! I need you to understand the speed in which I got out of bed to write this.You just unlocked some Buggy lore~  I also need you to know I am an ex-theater kid, (big surprise there right?) Phantom Of The Opera was the second musical that I latched on to in middle school and high school, my first HUGE special interest, so much so that I consumed every poto media I could and was allowed to growing up in my strict as fuck house. I went to some weird places, some off-broadway musical simply called ‘Phantom’, the sequel Love Never Dies, the novel, and a horror film where Robert Englud, played Erik. I used to be a first soprano, and Carlotta was my dream role, I used to be able to do her part in “Notes/Prima Donna” then I bruised my vocal cords, stopped singing for a while, and yeah as I got older my voice deepened significantly, and I am an alto now…and I am so out of practice.   Anyway my point is, yeah of course I’ll write this! The costume I had in mind was very specific, and absolutely foreshadowing. I also went a little hard, do you guys like the little graphic I made, should I start doing that? 

Trigger warning 𓏧 ↳ ○ hypnosis, but none other than that! ayo this is a sfw drabble! ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The Doctor had brought you back to earth for Halloween; it was one of your favorite holidays, and you were excited. You had the perfect costume picked out, and you had been working on it for weeks, putting together pieces from the Tardis’s wardrobe to get the perfect mix to make the perfect costume. You spent countless hours finding the right references to match exactly what you wanted. You wanted Christine Daaé, but from a specific scene, you wanted the costume from the Hannibal opera, leading into the Phantom of the Opera and Music of the Night. It was a very specific costume, but the ornate gems across the chest, the reds, greens, and golds of the dancer costume in that scene—every detail recreated with love and accuracy, covered by the long-sleeved white almost lacey overrobe. It was perfect, and you looked stunning in it; even if people didn’t know who you were dressed as, you knew, and it was sure to turn heads. You had invited The Doctor and Yaz to come with you, but The Doctor opted to spend it with Yaz, wanting to go to a haunted maze or something. It was fine; you wanted them to have some alone time anyway. 

You got ready, curling your hair, doing your makeup, and making sure everything was fitted properly. When you were ready, The Doctor dropped you off, telling you to be careful and to be back to the drop-off spot by midnight. You laughed and joked, "Okay, mom,” and headed off to the party. The night air was cold; you clung to the lace tighter; perhaps you should have brought a jacket, but the party wasn’t too far of a walk. When you got there, it was an old theater; how fitting. The theater put on an annual Halloween party, and it was apparently a big thing; you hadn’t recalled hearing about it before, but then again, you had been traveling sometime with The Doctor. You slipped in, and the venue was filled with people. You tried to relax some; there were definitely more people here than you were expecting; the music was loud, and there was a smokey haze from a fog machine. It was decorated, but it felt disconnected. There were some scary props and the normal fake cobwebs and fake spiders, but then there were also cheerful cut-out skeletons on some of the wall. You saw where there were drinks and some snack food, but you didn’t want to risk spilling anything on your costume, not with it being so white and how long you spent on it. Your eyes scanned the room; people were dancing and talking, enjoying merryments, and then your eyes fell on him. 

Atop the staircase he stood, he wore a bone-colored skull half mask that covered the top of his face and a heavy crushed red velvet tailcoat and pants with elaborate gold and black embroidery. Over his shoulders a heavy red velvet cape with a dark orange silk lining. You blinked; you knew exactly who he was dressed as—the phantom, but the red death costume from the Masqurade scene. It was stunning, the attention to detail was so fascinating. You tried to push through the crowd, but when you got to the stairs, he was gone. You frowned, trying to ask some of the people around the stairs if they had seen where the man had gone, but no one seemed to know what you were talking about, which was frustrating because that was not an easy-to-miss costume, the reds and oranges hard to ignore, yet no one seemed to recall seeing a person like that. 

You frowned and rejoined the crowd. You caught a glimpse of that red tailcoat again towards the drinks and moved to get over there as quickly as you could, but the man was gone again. Were you seeing things? You couldn’t be, he was stunning—his tanned skin, the clean-cut beard, his dark slicked-back hair, his costume. God, you wanted to meet him; talk about his costume. But he seemed to be as elusive as the opera ghost he was dressed as tonight. You sighed and looked around; your wrist was grabbed from behind, and you felt a heavy presence, but it wasn’t scary. The leather was cold against your wrist as you turned, looking over your shoulder, coming face to face with the man you had been looking for, his dark coffee brown eyes staring into yours, his movements graceful as he waltzed you through the people. 

You opened your mouth to speak, feeling your cheeks burning at being this close to him. “Nice costume,” you mumbled, and then felt like dying of embarrassment. ‘Nice costume, you dumbass. You had so much to comment on, but his hand against your waist and how he was looking at you made it near impossible to think. “I, um… Red Death, Phantom… It’s a good costume...very thought out...authentic.” You said trying to regain your composure. 

“And you are Miss Daaé,” he murmured into your ear as he pulled closer, dancing you closer to the stage. “How fitting… It’s a beautiful costume, accurate. You are stunning tonight, my dear,” he grinned against your ear. He pulled back to look at you again. He sounded familiar; why did he sound familiar? Maybe he just had one of those voices. He seemed to notice your thoughts and tightened his hand on your waist, bringing you back to the present. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite...hard,” he grinned that cheeky grin, but something about his voice, his look, your body started to relax. “You are a very pretty little bird,” he continued. Once he got you close enough, he pulled away, keeping his hand in yours as he pulled you towards the backstage area. You felt you should run, felt you should get away, but your body betrayed you; it was a simple suggestion, ‘Come with me’, one that your body couldn’t help but follow. “I knew you were going to be dressed like this tonight, dressed for the occasion; the red death is fitting, isn’t it?” He asked, his voice soft, whispering like if he spoke louder it would break whatever spell you were under. 

“Why is... how did you know?” You asked, your eyes still locked on his as he guided you effortlessly. He chuckled like he knew something you didn't, like the choice in the red death costume was an inside joke, like it was ironic, but he didn't give an explanation; instead, when he opened his mouth to speak, he bypassed the comment all together. 

“Of course I would know, you worked on it so long, didn’t you?” he said, patting your hand with his other hand, leading you into the cast wings. “You talked about it a lot, with her other human pets.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of The Doctor and her ‘fam’. He was annoyed that she managed to keep you so close, so hidden from him, but he still had his ways. He had fancied you since his Missy days; you were feisty and so unafraid of him–her–him. Still unafraid, you had willingly gone off on your own on Halloween; without The Doctor, it took a lot of work to set this up; every aspect of this was his doing; he did love the long con. “You put so much effort into it, your browser history, my my, you wanted it to be perfect, for who?” He mused, pausing at a greenroom. His hand moved to your cheek, his eyes searching yours. “Me? No, but it is for me now,” he smirked a bit. “Come with me,” he vocalized this time, his eyes burning into yours. You felt your resolve fading faster. Your mind tugged, but it was like he was surrounding you. You clued in as soon as he talked about the doctor; you knew why his voice sounded familiar—the one time you had met him in this regeneration, when he was pretending to be the m16 agent, ‘O’. The Master. 

You couldn’t pull away; you wanted to, you needed to escape, but he was thick in your mind; you hung on his every word, his command. “Don’t worry, pet, I’m not going to hurt you; that would be counterproductive; I need you.” he paused. “To get to her, of course, and you need to be alive for that, don’t you?” he said, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than you. He opened the door, motioning. You walked forward and into the green room. You felt him take your hand again as he led you towards the full-length mirror. 

“I’m sure you will enjoy being my companion for a while; oh, I have such things to show you.” He said, “You will love it, dying stars, burning planets, and I just know you will stay of your own free will once you see what I have in store." He said his hand pressed against the mirror; it opened to reveal the inside of his Tardis. “She doesn’t pay attention to you like I will... She has Yaz, just like she had Clara before; that one was my doing, but god, it was perfect, wasn’t it? In a way, I am saving you from the terrible things that are to come,” he mused, motioning for you to enter the Tardis. You obediently walked in. 

"Oh, we will have so much fun together.” He kissed your cheek before he closed the door and walked over to the console. He had such plans and you were going to be key in some of them; he now needed to keep you away from the Doctor and her meddling until he was sure you were on his side without the need for hypnosis. He knew he could charm you to his side; he could show you he was worth it.