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yandere-daydreams · 2 months

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tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.

His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.

“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”

You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.

“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”

It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”

It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”

Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”

“I need to— You said I could go—”

“Just give me another minute, darling.”

His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.

“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #degrees of lewdity #dol #harper the doctor #dol harper #harper x reader #yandere harper #dol harper x reader #yandere drabble #yandere degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity imagines #yandere dol #dol imagines

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propertyofwhitney67 · 17 days

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Are you mad? No, I'm scared shitless.

M!Whitney x AFAB!Reader

Words: 896

TW: Pregnancy

Note: I don't know how to feel about this one...

I stared down at the test and two red lines stared back at me. I’m pregnant and it’s Whitney’s.

The bathroom door opening and chatting broke me from my trance. I quickly tossed the test in the trash and left the stall. I shook as I washed my hands, my mind was running wild. What am I going to do? How is he going to react?

I walked into math class and quietly took my seat. I dropped my head to my desk and desperately tried to calm myself down. It felt like ages before the bell rang and Whitney walked into class, taking his seat beside me.

I anxiously bounced my leg and tried to focus on River speaking, but it was no use. I couldn’t focus on anything besides my rapidly beating heart. Whitney seemed to notice my anxiety and gave me his hand to play with. It helped a little. Thankfully class went by quickly, River ignored me and Whitney for the most part.

When the bell rang I quickly got out of my seat, almost forgetting my bag and leaving the classroom. I didn’t bother going to English class, I didn’t want to have to deal with Kylar. I hid away in the bathroom and didn’t come out till school was over.

I went to the locker room and changed into my normal clothes then went searching for Whitney. I have to tell him, he deserves that much. I found him outside the school talking with his friends. I made my way over and tugged at his arm, “Whitney…”

He looked down at me irritated, “What do you want, slut?”

I looked at him pleadingly, “Can we talk, over here.” I gestured to an area away from everyone else.

“What? You’ve never been shy about fucking me in public before.” He joked and pulled his arm away.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and not break down then and there. “Please, Whitney. It’s important.”

He rolled his eyes but agreed, walking away with me. “What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.” I answered shakily, trying to hold back tears. ”And before you ask, it’s yours.” I kept my head down, afraid to see his reaction.

He was quiet, unusually quiet, and it scared me. I wrapped my arms around myself as I let the tears finally fall. “How long?”

My head shot up in confusion, “What?”

“I said how long? How long have you known?” He repeated himself forcefully as if he was holding back his emotions.

I shook my head in confusion, “This morning, I took a test in the bathroom.”

He took a deep breath and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, “Fuck…” He went quiet again, thinking hard about something. I fidgeted where I stood, waiting for him to say something, to get mad and yell, tell me to fuck off, anything. Anything would be better than the silence.

After what felt like forever but was only a few minutes he uncovered his face and took me by the arm, dragging me with him. “Wha-”

“Shut up.” There was no arguing with him as he dragged me to his house and into his room.

I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on his bed. He began to pace the floor of his room. After a few minutes I asked him, “Are you mad?”

This seemed to break him out of his thoughts as he stopped pacing, “What?” He took a seat beside me, “No, I’m not mad…I’m scared shitless.” I snorted a laugh at his confession. I was scared too but I found it funny how he could still act like himself despite the situation.

“What are we gonna do?” I asked, suddenly feeling tired. My emotions drained all my energy.

He kissed the top of my head, “The best we can.” I kicked off my shoes, crawling up his bed and laying down where Whitney quickly joined me, resting his head on the pillow next to me.

I started playing with his hair, “How are we gonna get out of here…?”

“I have a plan.”

I looked down at him and asked in a joking manner, “You, a plan?” This was not a time to be joking but I found it funny that he, of all people, had a plan.

Whitney sighed, “Yes, I do. I know it’s hard for a slut like you to listen, so pay attention. Do you remember how you helped me study for those tests?” I nodded, “They were for college and I got accepted…I didn’t want to tell you unless I got in, and well I did.”

“How?” I asked baffled that he, Whitney the school bully, was accepted into college.

He looked up at me with a smirk, “What? Am I not smart enough for college?”

I rolled my eyes, “No…I’m just surprised. What does that have to do with this though?”

He rubbed my stomach, “I’m taking you with me, I think it’s the best chance to get us out of here.” He’s right, it is. It might be the only way for us to get out of here.

“Promise you won’t just leave me behind?” I asked, scared he’d leave me here alone and pregnant.

He took my hand and kissed it, “I promise slut, I’m not leaving you or our baby behind.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

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ddantelion · 2 years

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RICH KID! GN! PC. feat M! WHITNEY

warnings. very shitty PC, attempts to drown whitney, spitting, OOC whitney

You hail from nobility that has resided in this town for generations. You reside on Danube Street in the largest estate. Wherever you go you are driven in a black, slick limousine, accompanied by guards twice the average person's size. Your parents are recognized as directors of several successful corporations, as well as popular, influential socialites. You, even from your earliest youth, has been known as the golden child. You are endlessly envied by your peers.

You are also Whitney's greatest enemy.

Just like Whitney has his own posse, you have yours. They come from powerful families, and are the only students who are able to jab at him and his friends, and get away with it. In fact, your friends are the only students who are able to get away with beating his friends up, enough to land them in the hospital (which, to his horror, has already happened several times before). Every single time your friends are caught, they argue that they had acted in self-defense. And every single time, your friends get off scot-free. The next day at school, they'll approach him and his friends in the hallway, mockingly asking them where the others are with a horribly infuriating grin.

You don't lay a hand on his friends. You don't lay a hand on him either. You believe that you're above violence, but more than anything, you believe that you shouldn't have to sully your hands for people so insignificant. If you believe that someone deserves a punishment, then you will simply contact your guards to get the job done.

Whitney hates your guts. He wants you dead.

The teachers love you. They think you're entirely incapable of causing trouble, which, to an extent, is true. After all, you're not the one who's throwing pencils and erasers at him in the classroom -- it's your damned friends. Your friends are the ones kicking his seat and throwing open water bottles at him. You do nothing -- You sit with your chin resting in the palm of your hand, watching in amusement. When Whitney reaches his breaking point and snaps at your friends, he's the one who gets in trouble. River will harshly scold him in front of everyone, and in the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders shake as you turn away to face your friends, laughing quietly.

He can't escape you at school. He can't even escape you when he's not at school. Because on rainy days, you also frequent the park, sitting by the fountain with your usual guards by your side, one holding an umbrella above your head, and the other offering to bring you snacks, blankets, and anything else you might need. He glares at your from his spot beneath the tree, and you will turn to him, giving him a smile. You always look pristine, and your skin glows and your eyes glitter, and you don't even need to try to get people's affection.

One day, Whitney was in an especially foul mood, and he made the mistake of approaching you when both of your guards had briefly left their posts. You saw him marching towards you, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to greet him, but before you could --

Whitney had snatched you by the collar of your shirt and tugged your face until it was inches away from his. He took satisfaction in the way your eyes widened in surprise, even if it was only for a moment.

"You really can't take a fucking hint, can you?" He scowled. "Think I don't have the guts to lay a hand on you? You think you're invincible?"

He pulled his head back and gathered all of his saliva on his tongue, before spitting violently in your face, causing it to land on your cheek. You slowly, gingerly lifted a hand to wipe it away, your eyes still trained on his. His lips carved into a grin, and you smiled back.

In one swift motion, you grabbed the back of his head. You grasped strands of his hair between your fingers, tugging violently, before suddenly shifting positions -- Shoving his body against the edge of the fountain, one knee pressed against his back and both of your hands burying his head deep into the water. They stayed there, even when Whitney immediately began to thrash beneath you.

His eyes were wide with panic, and he could see the coins at the bottom of the fountain. He could hear you laughing from above.

"You should make a wish." You said cruelly. Something about you that always struck Whitney was your voice. It was smooth, charming, like every other part of you. If he didn't know any better, he would do anything you wanted, just to hear your voice. He thinks that he could even die for it... Which, it doesn't really seem like he has a choice.

You held him there for several agonizing seconds, although Whitney could never know how long you actually kept him in place. Not long had passed before he could hear your guards quickly approaching, asking loudly what you were doing, but not asking you to stop.

"I'm teaching him a lesson," you replied, as though it were obvious. "Has the driver finally arrived?" You asked nonchalantly, as if you literally weren't drowning Whitney, pushing him inches within his life.

He's sure the guard answered, because you finally lifted his head back up. He began coughing, sputtering, already cursing you out. Your fingers were still buried in his hair as you pulled and pulled until he was looking up at you. You retracted one of your hands to grip his jaw, forcing open his mouth. You shoved your fingers deep into his throat, making him gag, his legs kicking to try and force you off.

You pulled your fingers out, and as Whitney opened his mouth to begin gasping for air, you spit right into his mouth, on his tongue.

You clamped his jaw shut.

"You should swallow," you said, "Or I'll drown you again."

You finally showed your true colors, your soft smile turning sinister.

And he did, as much as he didn't want to, because he knew you were telling the truth, and you would happily keep doing it if you could.

There was a fond glow in your eyes as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Good boy," you whispered, sending tingles up his spine. Whitney tried his best to ignore the sudden pulse of his dick.

You let him go, leaving him to crumble against the fountain.

The next day would be like any other day. Your group would approach him and his friends in the hallway, except this time, you followed.

You were at the front when you suddenly stepped forward, towards him, and abruptly grabbed his jaw, forcing your lips against his. The kiss was rough, and you forced your tongue into his mouth the second you got the chance, your teeth clicking together. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, calmly watching for his reaction.

When you pulled away, there was a string of saliva you shared.

You stared at his swollen lips and smiled, giving another kiss.

"Good boy," you cooed, and it made his knees weak.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #degrees of lewdity whitney #whitney the bully #degrees of lewdity imagines #dol imagines #degrees of lewdity whitney imagines #dol whitney imagines #tw drowning #tw spitting #writing

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ashersanity · 2 months

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— “Drunk already? I wouldn’t have pinned you for a light weight.”

-> content warning! alcohol intoxication, top m alpha! reader x bratty omega in heat, stupid cockwhore bitch craves for cock but doesn’t get it.

Turning someone into your little cockwhore bitch, there’s nothing sweeter than that — than the otherwise self-assured look in their eyes turned to one that’s dazed and pleading.

Fuck, if it weren’t for the numerous drinks simmering in his system, drumming along his veins that had his head swim, he wouldn’t be in this position. No, damn it. He wouldn’t be here, visible flush streaked across his cheeks with the obvious, heady scent of arousal lingering in the air. His interested, omegan cock stirring between his spread legs, knees clumsily knocking against yours beneath the wooden counter. Nor would he be the one to lean just a bit, in your direction, intently fixated on your parting lips with every swallow you take, each and every bob of your throat that curves along nicely down, alcohol pleasantly burning. It was a mistake in itself, to think he’d out drink you, looking perfectly fine in comparison to him who supported his chin atop his palm, gently swaying back and forth.

Shit, he hated you. He hated you so damn much that he’d catch himself staring at your glistening mouth each and every time, bubbling frustration slowly shifting into one of needy arousal, a need for your cock in his throat, ass, wherever he could touch it, smell it even. Maybe if you were so generous, you’d let him have a go at it, pathetically slide himself onto his knees so he could paw at your bulge, suck on the rough fabric of your jeans where your fat, knotted cock comfortably sat underneath. Bastard didn’t deserve to get a proper taste anyway. Only a curl of your finger shoved up his pulsing, dripping hole would have him cumming all over himself like a whore regardless, desperately bucking his hips into your touch to reach your split knuckles. Hell, he’d even be fine with you towering over him, grip tightening onto his face with your fingers greedily digging into the soft of his flesh, harshly spitting into his awaiting mouth, pink tongue peeking out. However, you do none of that. Instead, you lean into his space, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, heated breaths quickened, audible over the bustling pub and noisy patrons surrounding you.

— “I could ruin you if I wanted to. Fuck you, right here, right now. Have everyone see, what a needy little cum slut you are for my cock.”

Exhaling shakily, his eyes flutter shut at the drum of your voice, letting the words sink in, slicked, wet hole miserably tightening around nothing. Dammit, he wants you, wants you so fucking bad to mess him up, to have him bent over the flat surface as you fuck your cum into him, reddened ass on display for all the hungry, perverted alphas to leer upon.

— “But I won’t. I’ll just let you rut into your pillow like the nasty, fucking whore that you are.”

..You fucking tease.

whitney, remy, avery, ryomen sukuna, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, scaramouche, kaveh, kaeya alberich, satan (whb), reo mikage, micheal kaiser, sae itoshi, more?

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bitciziad · 9 months

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idea for kylar, this psychotic soggy dog mf, id like him more if he wasn’t allergic to latex LMFAO

also here’s another version without the hoodie because i genuinely dont really know how i wanna draw m!kylar yet (i need to make him more.. greasy?? soggy?? deranged?? yknow?? he looks way too normal in this ngl and he’s anything but normal) but this is pretty much the gist of it until i figure out how to do that ->

#degrees of lewdity #dol kylar #kylar the loner #you can tell i never do anything but messy sketches whoops..#imagining him as a brit will never not be funny to me #dol fanart #binge!myart

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yet-another-haven-of-dollya · 11 days

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Welp getting this out of my system

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol kylar #kylar the loner #that kitty is exactly how I imagine Kylar spiritually

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monay-monn · 13 days

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I think we as a society dont talk about Sydney's repressed memories enough

granted its not super in your face obvious (and i hope it gets explored/expanded on more) but the way that puri has said that whatever happened to sydney's other parent is the reason why he got sent to the asylum and why he was so innocent when we first meet him absolutely breaks me

theres so much angst potential there already. When he sings the song to comfort pc whenever she breaks down, he says he learned it from Jordan, and vrel has confirmed that Jordan learned it from Sydney's other parent. Did their parent never sing it back to him? Or did they completely block out their other parent in their memories.

They never seem to mention their other parent all that much, does he even still retain any memories associated with them? Do they still remember what they look like? Or is everything to do with them now just a hazy memory

Do they feel guilt for no longer remembering? Does it eat up at them? Or do they purposely try to forget, never wanting any of them to ever surface anymore

brought to you by:

#degrees of lewdity #dol sydney #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #oughghghghhh #thinking too hard about this fuckass game #and their fuckass characters #also putting it out there but #sirris harpy fucker (real)#/j #ik sydney's other parent most likely heard about the song from a harpy #but imagining sydney's other parent to be a harpy is more fun to think about

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leaflessfae · 25 days

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The Harper brain worms are taking over

Pairing: M!Harper x F!pc

Content. MDNI. Noncon, kidnapping, jealous Harper, a sprinkle of yandere Harper, p in v, unprotected, sedated pc who's half-conscious, some hallucinations (I wanted to write more hypnotic stuff but that would've made this way longer so I'm holding back. For now.), tentacles but only for a liddol, fingering, (pc's cum) tasting, and hopefully that's it.

A/N. Snickering to myself as I write and lie 'Harper is a good doctor' kdkxksk

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It's looking..." There's a sharp intake of air, then a click of a tongue before Harper is finally turning to you, what you assume to be your documents in his hands, "pretty bad."

A grave silence prevails over every corner of the room that seems to only tighten and suffocate you in its white walls. Harper stays silent for a few seconds, only running his eyes over your bewildered, yet concerned, countenance. "Wh... what's looking bad, doctor?" Eventually, you inquire, a brow raising skeptically, "I'm feeling okay?"

He breathes out, turning to set the documents on his desk and taking a moment to force his features to soften, to demolish every attempt of a smile coming out before he turns to you again, a frown drawing his brows together slightly. "Have you been taking any medications without my supervision lately?"

You have. "No, I haven't."

"Well, your tests say you have. You wouldn't lie to your doctor now, would you?" He shakes his head, "because that would be pretty disappointing."

His tone makes you visibly reel back in your seat, a grimace fighting its way to your face. "It's just painkillers." You lie through your teeth, keeping your head held high and alert. You've never taken a liking to the doctor standing before you; always has he given you unpleasant vibes that screamed at you to bolt out of his confined room of an office. You've trusted your guts at that time and changed your doctor, only to notice that something is very wrong with the way your body feels lately. Doctor Harper, very unfortunately, was actually good at his job (or so he appears), and so you reluctantly made your way back to him, only to remember why you changed doctors in the first place.

"Don't underestimate medicine, sweetheart. What have you been taking?"

You've fallen silent once again. All plans of actually fixing whatever the hell was up with your body thrown out the window; you just wanted to get out of here. And so you lie again. "Maybe the tests are wrong. I'm feeling totally fine, and I haven't been taking anything."

"You haven't been attending your weekly checkups." His hands are already dressing up in medical gloves, eyes aren't even on you as he scolds.

"I'm just busy."

"Busy changing doctors?" A final snap announces the gloves are in place as he glances up at you, gaze fixing you in place.

Your lips thin into a line, hands gripping the edge of the bed you're sat on. Harper sighs before you can retort back, shaking his head. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Look at where you've gotten yourself." He shrugs his hand at you, gesturing to your body, "Now we gotta fix you up, don't we? You wouldn't have gotten into this in the first place were you to listen to me."

"I-I'm late for my shift, actually. Let's discuss this later?" You scramble to get off the bed once he starts approaching. "Next week–"

"No, you don't know how dire your situation is. We have to take action immediately."

You don't even think as you bolt for the door upon noticing a syringe filled and ready in his hand, your hands gripping the handle and harshly tugging. The door rattles in protest and refuses to budge, so you tug it again in case you didn't force it enough the first time, but it only meets your efforts with macabre immutability. When the hell did he lock–

"Trust me, darling, I'm not very happy about doing this either." You would've believed him if it weren't for his breath picking up, a foul grin stretching his lips. "I would've been able to detoxify your body with you conscious, but your test results are extremely alarming. I'm going to have to sedate you for this."

"No. I'm good!" With the door being completely out of the escaping picture, you resort to using what you always use in the streets. You swing your fist at his face once he's close enough, placing a great amount of strength in it; half of it induced by fear, and it works. Harper doesn't seem to expect your sudden attack as he stumbles back, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. It buys you enough time to run to the windows, not caring if the jump would break your fucking legs.

But a surprisingly strong hand yanks you back by your shirt, sending you tumbling back and hitting his desk in the process. Harper lunges at you before you can lunge at him and wrestles you to the floor, seizing your wrists in a firm grip and sitting over your body, rendering you immobile. He was stronger than he looked, and it terrified you to think what he might also be in hidden sight.

"Stay put. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself further now, would you?" Harper's grin only widens as you struggle and writhe underneath him, blood smeared across his face and dripping on your skin. "I'm only trying to help you out."

"I would rather fucking die!" You spit, fiery eyes glaring and legs kicking– trying to kick.

Harper clicks his tongue several times in disappointment as if you were a child who needs to be disciplined. "Such foul words. You shouldn't say that to a doctor. It wounds them." He produces the syringe again, punctures your skin before you can scream in terror in hopes for someone to come running for your aid. "Shh...sh...I've got you." He's got his hand glued to your lower jaw to drown out every screech for help you could utter until your eyes grow impossibly heavy, body falling limp beneath him.

When you awaken, it's not at the hospital.

None of the bleak white walls and glaring lights greet you when you flutter your eyes open, head feeling heavy as ever as you struggle to make sense of what could've possibly happened. It's dim in the room, the only light being the street lamps filtering in through the window. It's– wait. Street lamps.

You would've jolted up in the realization that it's nighttime were your body functioning, but all you can feel is– nothing. You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your arms, your hands, your fingers. Panic settles in your veins, your heart palpitating faster with each passing second. You're quick to feel lightheaded with anxiety, heart drumming loudly in your ears. Where the fuck were you–

"You can't move, doll. Don't bother." A soft voice that could only belong to Harper rings out from beside you. Terror-stricken yet unable to move, your eyes flit to your side, and there he is. A gentle smile adorns his rather gentle features as he lays beside you. "Don't worry, it's going to wear off eventually. You're safe with me."

You're anything but safe with him. Your eyes can only follow his hand as he moves to toy with a strand of your hair, idly twirling it around his fingers before bringing it to his face, breathing in deeply then kissing it. He sits up, twisting around to grab a glass of water and a pill from the nightstand. "This will make you feel better."

You press your lips together at once, jaw clenching and refusing to open your mouth as he presses the pill to your lips. He frowns, pushes it further until it clashes against your teeth. "Yeah?" He says, before forcing your jaw open with a hand clenching the sides of your face. "Should I really teach you a lesson to listen to your doctor?" He forces the pill into your mouth before hurriedly holding the glass to his lips. Soon are his lips on yours, passing the water through his mouth and tipping your head in a way that would force you to swallow.

"There we go." He pulls away then immediately yanks at your skirt, pulling it all the way down your legs. Your panties are pushed to the side and, despite how dry you are, your pussy welcomes his finger. He only glides it along your folds, but you feel yourself getting weirdly wet way too quickly.

"Did you really think you could fool me?" He huffs, out of breath already even though he's barely touched you, a manic grin spreading his lips. He isn't even trying to hide it the way he usually does at your appointments. No. There's no need. Not when he has you all for himself, all docile and vulnerable for all his fantasies and wicked intentions. "Did you think I wouldn't notice when my favorite patient starts frequenting other doctors? You're so cute. So dumb."

Then he pushes his finger into you, and he moans at the sight, at the sensation of your warm cunt, and at how your pussy makes those adorable squelching sounds when he starts fucking his finger into you. An exhilarated laugh leaves him when you start making small whimpery noises, which only leads him to push another finger into you.

Whatever he made you swallow was taking a toll on your mind. Harper was starting to look blurry, hazy, and even a bit disoriented. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision but only starting to see something taking shape around him. "Mmh.." You blabber as if to alert him, but he only chuckles in that frightening tone of his.

"What's that, darling? I can't understand you."

"Mnngh..." another trial that only proves your tongue to be too heavy to form actual words. Harper suddenly fingers you faster, forcing moans out of you, and then you feel it. Slimy and wet and sticky, sliding across your legs and all the way to your thighs, slipping under your shirt and caressing your tummy. Your breath shakes, both from Harper's assault and fear. Blobs, thick and thin, taking multiple shapes and sizes, vaguely resembling tentacles, surround you.

You feel them getting closer to where Harper is coaxing fluids out of you. You feel them circle your nipples and latch onto them. You feel them snake around your thighs and spread them further, or that might be you gaining some control in the sense that you can slightly move your body, just not upon your conscious command.

With a strained voice, you whimper, both scared and on the very edge of climaxing. You don't know if you want to push him away - if you had the strength - or to hold onto him in fear of the tentacles. "H-Ha..pa.."

"That's my name."

Then you're gushing around his fingers, pussy squeezing them so delightedly and covering them in your sweet sweet slick. "Oh yes– fuck, fuck yes. Squeeze my fingers like that!" Harper might be hyperventilating with the way he pants, his usual self-control nowhere to be found as he hastens to pull his hard cock out of his pants, his hand wrapping around it and pumping in time with the clenching of your walls.

"Sweet doll." He withdraws his fingers at last, laughing as he presses them together only to spread them apart, watching your slick form sticky threads between them. He brings his fingers close to his mouth, lolling out his tongue and moaning loudly as he twirls it around them before sucking them completely into his mouth.

He takes his time tasting you, savoring every drop with a moan, not bothering to hide how hard he's getting and how his flushed tip leaks precum on your thigh. Meanwhile, you're fighting the urge to cry, to wail as something else plays with your slit. Slimy and thin and you feel it fluttering around your twitching hole. Harper doesn't react to it, as if it's not even there, but you can very clearly feel it. It must be there!

"Mm, so..." Harper says, finally letting his fingers out and giving them a last lick, "so sweet. Here. Taste yourself." His fingers dip into your cunt so suddenly it makes you jolt a bit, and he gathers your cum and slick before it's pushed into your mouth. "See? You taste good."

He doesn't stop there. Toys with your tongue like it's his right, feeling the warm muscle beneath his fingertips, not taking his fingers out until he's sure you've cleaned them of your cum, and covered them instead with your saliva. Harper is entranced as he watches you as if he's the one under the influence; his eyes are half-lidded as they drink you in, and his lips are slightly open, face so flushed and tinted deep red.

His hands grip your hips and he drags you closer to him, his cock nudges at your entrance and suddenly the tentacles that were invading your vision disappear. You gasp, blinking up at the ceiling then at him in confusion, and he smiles so wide when he sees your gaze on him, his ears flushing redder than they already were.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," whispers as he holds your panties to the side and slides in, feeding his cock into your tight slippery hole, his jaw falling slack and eyes rolling back, throat rumbling with a long "fuuuuck..."

He pulls you up, cradling your body against his as he bottoms out. "So– shit, so much better than I imagined."

Harper is up in a second, lifting you with him by his hands that dig into the plush of your ass. "I've always wanted to try this," he whispers before you're lifted until only his tip is snug inside you, then brought down until he's fully enveloped again, cock hitting so deep in your cunt. "Fuck– ah, h-hold onto m– right, you can't." He laughs out of breath, then you're slammed against a wall, weight distributed between him and the cold wall against your back.

He lets one hand move up to shrug your arms around his neck, telling you to be good and try to keep them there. "You can do that, no? Some of that strength must be back by now." He whispers in your ear before he's drilling into you, moaning loudly directly in your ears, even drowning out your own moans with his. "You– have no idea how much I waited for this."

He kisses you, tongue first, licking into your open mouth and groaning with wild abundance. Harper never falters in his thrusts and never makes you feel as if you're about to fall, his grip firm and stronger than you thought him to be. He bites your lower lip as he pulls away then smiles at you. "Do you know how hard it was to hold back? To stop at a few invasive touches but never go far enough to satisfy?"

He angles his hips, hitting spots you didn't know would send you squealing. "To see your cute little ass trot into my office, to sit so fucking prettily, and to talk my ear off about worthless scums trying to get a piece of you when all I can think about is how pretty you'd be split on my dick?"

He slithers his hands from your ass and to the back of your thighs, holding you by them and spreading you open, his gaze falling down to where his cock disappears again and again, getting sucked so hungrily by your greedy cunt. "F-fucking hell. Look at you taking me so well! I knew you could take it."

But then his tone changes, and his thrusts turn harsher, rougher without the usual care he carries. "But then you go off and think you can avoid me by seeing another doctor." He hisses, eyes blown with infatuation yet frustration, "It's okay. Hah, it's okay. You'll always come back to me. I'll make sure of it."

It's only then that you notice. That your eyes focus a bit and zero in on the stains on his shirt. Some of them are brown and dry, but the fresher ones– the fresher ones are tinted crimson, spread about chaotically as if something was squirted messily and splattered his shirt. Harper notices your gaze and laughs, loud and breathless.

"I did it for you. " He stutters and plunges deep within you, pressing into your body as close as possible while his seed splutters your insides, pumping you full of his cum as you moan and follow very close behind, clenching around him and milking him of every drop he's worth. Harper holds you against the wall for a while, until both of you almost catch your breaths.

Your eyes barely stay open as your head lays on his shoulder, more exhausted than you originally were. This time, you notice a small card on the nightstand. Your heart suddenly picks up again when you focus on it, recognizing the bloodied ID as the doctor's you frequented a few times, confirming your suspicions.

Harper seems to know that you're looking directly at it, and he smiles. "I told you I'll make sure of it."

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N. Once my writing skills evolve and I can write mind break (and be satisfied with it) it's over for yall

#i wanted to add more but that wouldve made this so longnngg #the agony #also incouldnt decide whether he lets you go or not #if he does then he would definitely gaslight you that nothing has ever happened and youre imagining things #before deeming you unhealthy and that as your doctor his duty is to take care of you #fucking takes you to the asylum #or or #he would keep you and break your mind bit by bit until youre nothing but a blabbering mess who cant function on their own #uwu #degrees of lewdity #dol #harper the doctor #dol harper #cw noncon #tw noncon #dol pc

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dollya-robinprotector · 8 months

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"Go on, touch me, hold me, kiss me, eat me... The warmth overlaps together" - EAT ME (Gumi)

#Oh how I just wanna eat you whole...#you would be so very safe and warm and with me #One bite is all it take to gulp the little wings-clipped birdie down my throat I imagine it would be so delish #does this count as horny-posting?#ahahahaha #hah....#Oh and do consider giving the song a try I love it #robin the orphan #dol robin #dol pc #dollya art #dol #degrees of lewdity

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ddruxyart · 5 months

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Hello DOL nation I bring new food

#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol avery #dol alex #avery the businessperson #alex the farmhand #butch trans avery #i had to cook up my own food #these two arent even my favorites but i had the strongest vision for them #ive imagined Avery as a smarmy butch pretty much right of the bat and man im honestly a bit in love with that concept #I might still play around with her design cause i want her to be a bit more butch and wider #fanart #artists on tumblr #ddruxyart #ddruxy #ngl i feel like im gonna get booed of the stage

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yandere-daydreams · 5 months

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tw - stalking, unhealthy relationships, mentions of masturbation, obsessive behavior, and medical malpractice galore.

Harper is the kind of man who can't help but study what he loves.

It's a bad habit - an unfortunate combination of natural curiosity and burning academic passion that always seems to end with a mess and a few broken toys. A childhood fascination with insects might lead to shoeboxes full of tattered wings and twitching bodies. A passing interest in hemogobular coagulation would be poured into a university internship that gave him access to more pints of blood than he knew what to do with, despite his best attempts to put it all to good use. A lasting fondness for hypnosis could, theoretically, earn him a small collection of pocket watches, a soothing timbre that often played underneath his passive speaking voice, and a few asylum patients too far gone to ever truly recover.

His research wasn't always destructive, but it could be. His love tended to veer towards obsession; the kind of burning infatuations that could leave more than a little devastation in its wake, if he wasn't careful. A measured amount of collateral damage was acceptable, compared to the alternative.

He studies you, too. Idly, at first - nothing more than an intrusive thought allowed to fester during your all-too-infrequent appointments, a quick jolt of excitement when he noticed your name on his schedule - then more consciously, in the form of an extra question asked at the very end of his time with you, a note tacked onto your file that doesn't strictly have to do with your health. His chances for observation are limited. You rarely make it to your therapy sessions, no matter how often he insists you should see him, and you're sturdier than he'd like, too used to being thrown around and mistreated to come running to him every time you scrape your knees. That's something he decides he doesn't like about you fairly early on. Part of a case study is deciding which parts of your subject will need to be adapted, and even you aren't beyond correction.

He records your reactions to his mis-prescribed medication with a religious sort of zealousness, reviews your symptoms and lab results while fucking his fist in-time with your pulse. He makes sure to visit your bedside personally whenever you find your way into his emergency room, and you're rewarded for your newfound attentiveness with a healthy supply of shots that leave you too removed from reality to remember your time on his examination table. Harper's always preferred the written word, but he find himself with a budding appreciation for film during his nightly evaluation of your records. His memory is keen enough, but there's nothing quite like being able to study your body detail by detail whenever he isn't fortunate enough to have access to the real thing.

He thinks, as he watches a pair of his nurses drag you through the asylum doors, that it might be time to start the next leg of his study. Studying is useful, but you've always benefited from more proactive measures, more personal attention. It'd be a discredit to his occupation if he was too preoccupied with his own little pleasures to see to the needs of his favorite patient.

It's far past time he moved on to more hands-on research methods, when it comes to you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere prompts #yandere degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol #harper the doctor #harper x reader #yandere harper the doctor #dol imagines #degrees of lewdity imagines #yanderecore #yancore

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propertyofwhitney67 · 26 days

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Whitney Forcing You To Do His Homework Drabble

M!Whitney x AFAB & AMAB!Reader

TW: public sex (kinda, he fingers you/jacks you off in the library)

Words: 382 & 348

Note: For @nopecho <3

I wanted to do a AMAB version too, it's my 2-3 time writing for an amab reader so yeah...I did my best

AFAB Version

“Here,” Whitney said with a smirk, dropping his homework down on top of what I was working on. “You’re smart, right slut?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “Why do you even bother with homework?”

He plopped down in the seat beside me, slinging his arm around the back of my chair. “Just to watch you struggle with so much work.”

Whitney started to play with my hair as I started on his work, not bothering to finish mine. “Half of these are past due, what’s the point?” I asked while answering the simple math questions.

“To make you suffer.” He smiled and lightly tugged on my hair. “Now hurry up.”

His hands began to wander as he got bored, squeezing and groping as he pleased. “I can’t focus when you do that.” I grumbled as I finished a sheet of homework and started on another,

“Too bad, slut.” He squeezed my breast through my shirt and put his hand down my skirt and on my bare cunt. “I’m sure you can focus like this.”

I shifted, feeling my body heat up. “That’s not fair.” I whined lowly, trying not to draw attention to us. The library was mostly empty but I didn’t want to risk it.

He lightly pinched my clit and demanded, “Get to working.” I gasped loudly before quickly covering my mouth, trying to keep quiet.

My face was flushed as I grumbled, “You’re cruel…” Despite my words, I felt myself start to get wet. He knows just how to get me worked up. I went back to working as he continued to play with me. Slowly rubbing my clit before slipping a finger inside, then another. I whimpered and bit my lip, trying to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you.” He curled his fingers, finding that perfect spot. I let out a moan, this time louder than my other sounds. He took that as an invitation to keep going, faster than before.

I stopped trying to focus on the homework, letting pleasure take me instead. He didn’t seem to care, instead coating an orgasm from me. I came loudly, not caring if anyone heard anymore.

He continued to finger me through my orgasm before pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, “Get back to work, slut.”

AMAB Version

I did my best (つ╥﹏╥)つ

“Here,” Whitney said with a smirk, dropping his homework down on top of what I was working on. “You’re smart, right slut?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “Why do you even bother with homework?”

He plopped down in the seat beside me, slinging his arm around the back of my chair. “Just to watch you struggle with so much work.”

I started on his work, not bothering to finish mine. “Half of these are past due, what’s the point?” I grumbled while answering the simple math questions.

“To make you suffer.” He smiled and lightly tugged on my hair. “Now hurry up.”

His hands began to wander as he got bored, squeezing and groping as he pleased. “I can’t focus when you do that.” I grumbled as I finished a sheet of homework and started on another,

“Too bad, slut.” He put his hand down my pants and started to stroke my cock. “I’m sure you can focus like this.”

I shifted, my cock hardening. “That’s not fair.” I whined lowly, trying not to draw attention to us. The library was mostly empty, but I didn’t want to risk it.

He swiped his thumb against the tip of my cock and demanded, “Get to working.” I gasped lowly, trying to keep quiet.

My face was flushed as I grumbled, “You’re cruel…” Despite my words, I only got harder. He knows just how to get me worked up. I went back to working as he continued to play with me, slowly stroking my cock. I whimpered and bit my lip, trying to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you.” He sped up his pace. I let out a moan, this time louder. He took that as an invitation to keep going, faster than before.

I stopped trying to focus on the homework, letting pleasure take me instead. He didn’t seem to care, instead coating an orgasm from me. I came loudly, not caring if anyone heard anymore.

He continued to stroke me through my orgasm before pulling his hand out of my pants, “Get back to work, slut.”