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#harper the doctor
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.]
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“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.”
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bunnygirllover45 · 2 months
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If I don't instantly become him when I receive my doctor's degree I'm gonna be disappointed.
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devotion-disorder · 3 months
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Your Harper better watch out, or else he's gonna end up getting the most sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, life changing, death dropping, flabbergasting, hypnotizing, heavenly, astonishing, leg trembling, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, leg shaking, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing head from me. Also he can't say no to it-
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naysucc · 1 month
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My favorite freaks 💜
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swpdz000 · 9 months
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This was supposed to be some small response doodles for the tags in this post but my brain acted up and made a comic instead... I apologize if my wording is weird,,, I didn't proofread it TT
Please enjoy the comic aa
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dumbhirano · 8 months
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sketchy men
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pip-n-chips · 3 months
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this is how it goes in the game, right?
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plulp · 7 months
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IM NOT A DOCTOR BUT I THINK I MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP
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ashersanity · 5 months
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Introducing that weird doctor that cums all over your face while you’re under anesthesia..!
YANDERE! HARPER
asher, please stop it already..
Thought we already knew the rules here, unless you want me to go over them again?
content warning! mentions of dub-con/non-con, manipulation and gaslighting, somnophilia, hypnosis, baby trapping, motherfucker drinks your fluids, nasty.
pc and harper are gender neutral as always unless explicitly stated otherwise.
extra note : thank you for your work @digenerate-trash
“My, my. Came to see me again? What a coincidence.”
yandere type : manipulative, two-faced, obsessive, possessive
Owns a certain collection of photos of you, a.. particular one to say the least. Do they really need to be focusing precisely on your ass every single time that they snap a picture of your nude body? No, not really, still does it however. Saves it for later, as in whenever they’re feeling a little pent up after a long, stressful day of being a totally ethical doctor, of course! Hands busy beneath the desk, stroking and rubbing away as they stare at that wonderful shot of your backside on the computer’s screen. Always manages to make a mess of themselves somehow, grumbling beneath their breath now that they have to change attire. It’s all your fault, silly.
Constantly makes sure that you’re not feeling entirely well. Oh, what’s this? Your skin suddenly feels all tingly and warm? What a surprise, looks like you need to stay with Doctor Harper for a while to get that checked out. Oh, you have a fever? And a real bad one at that. What a shame, huh.. You don’t even get to see the way their lips curl up into a smile whenever you visit, utterly giddy that you’re coming back to them once again and you’re here to stay. Obviously, Harper will make sure of it.
Overly touchy with you, babbling about how you’re their favorite patient, claiming you’re so well-behaved with them compared to the others they treat. Gloved hand trailing over your soft lips, finger gently pushing inside your warm mouth once more, says they need to inspect your tongue for any signs of illness. Eyes framed behind glasses, fixated on the way your saliva melds over their digits. Shit, how they wish they could just slip those stupid gloves off of their hands and feel the real thing against their skin. Well, it’s not like they won’t get the chance to do that soon enough..
What a good doctor Harper is, sanitizing their tools right after you used them. The method of cleaning? Um.. Perhaps their tongue does dart out of their mouth to lick and suck away at the used wooden stick that they stuck inside your mouth just moments ago. How nasty, huh? Can’t help themselves though, you taste sooo good. Look at that, all those delicious fluids that you’re leaving right behind for them. Doing this on purpose, aren’t you? No worries, they’ll make sure to drink from the source directly next time.
Feeds you and assigns you the weirdest of medicine. What does this pill do, doctor? Is it going to help me? Of course, it will. Just try it out right now, slip in between your lips, watch on as your body slowly warms up, heat rushing throughout your entire figure, flushed cheeks and gasping breath. Would you look at that.. Clutching at Harper’s white coat, fabric twisting in your hands, begging for you to touch them. Needy for Harper’s touch? They’re happy to oblige, why shouldn’t they? It’s only a doctor’s job to..
What’s that creaking sound that you hear in your room at night? Uh, it’s nothing, promise! Ignore the shadow that looms over you in the dark, clear outline of Harper’s frame towering over your sleeping form, blissfully ignorant as to what they’re doing. Ignore the sound of their belt unbuckling/skirt lifting up to reveal their moistened sex, already so goddamn horny for you alone. It’s not their fault, you just look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable to their forbidden touches, slender fingers gently caressing your bare skin.. So pretty.
Not letting any other doctor treat you. It’s always Harper who’s here to help you in time of need, how weird, huh? Must be fate as they call it. Frowns at the idea of you being alone with another nurse in the room, wanting you to themselves. Word going around that it’s the doctor’s orders to be the only one to treat you, touch you. You’re a ‘special’ case, they insist, special in their eyes for sure. It really looks like Harper is the only one deserving to be by your side.
Wants you to be utterly devoted to them in every way possible, doesn’t matter if they’re doing it through hypnosis, pen swinging back and forth in front of your eyes. Comforted by their warm embrace around your frame, hushing you and whispering into your ear. How Harper yearns for you to utter those four (three too) magical words to them, lips parting to speak them. “I love you, Harper.” and “I’m yours, Harper.” The doctor smiling at that, you’re being genuine about it, aren’t you? You truly do feel nothing but affection for them! Yeah.. Jesus christ, this shit head is delusional.
Wouldn’t hesitate to baby trap you, doesn’t matter the gender. M!Harper inserting a sterilized needle right into your womb if you happen to be !AFAB. Same goes for F!Harper with !AMAB, slowly jerking you off in your sleep, maybe if she’s feeling bold enough, which she probably is, rides your length, loving the way your cock stretches her cunt out so well. “Accidentally” forgets to pull out, your thick, precious seed shooting deep inside her own womb. If you share the same genitals? It’s all the same to them, they’re figuring out a way to get you to believe that you’re sharing a baby through hypnosis, permanently stuck with them now.
Gaslights you into thinking you need them. Arms wrapped around your frame, guiding you along to your room and would you look at that, it seems you have a bit of trouble walking. Now, they have to be near you at all times, it’s only their job as a medic, right? Spoon feeding you during breakfast and dinner time, doesn’t care for the weird glances that attracts from the other patients at the asylum, it’s only natural after all.. Cmon, you’re completely helpless without the doctor! You poor thing.. Don’t worry, Harper is here to help, here to stay by your side forever and forever. For eternity.
Surprisingly so, I actually like the silly little doctor despite the fact that they molest my pc at the asylum on a daily basis. Must be apart of their job description or something. Funny.
Coming up next, Yandere! Bailey!
If we’re being honest here, I’d let Harper ride me so bad, I know that harpussy is tight as fu—
[END OF POST]
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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.
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tetradon · 6 months
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💉
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devotion-disorder · 10 months
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pov pc busts into harper’s office right before his shift ends
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total off-mode harper with his coat off and his hair untied....oughhgh
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(click for better quality!)
headcannon: harper smokes sometimes, but only when hes really stressed 
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inkyquince · 8 months
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cw. Baby trapping. Ranging from dub to noncon. Somnophilia, desperation versus spite. Pseudoincest because Morgan is Morgan.
Characters. Kylar, Avery, Harper, Morgan, Bailey, Whitney, Remy.
Baby traps you out of desperation:
Kylar. You can't leave him now, not ever! Not when you two are forever joined with the life growing inside of you. Would prick holes in the condoms you tell him to use, or just smears his own fingers with cum before fingering you greedily. Even crushes up fertility pills and puts them in your drink, watching you drink it down with wet, staring eyes. You wouldn't be allowed near anyone else the moment it's confirmed you're carrying his kid.
Avery. If you're leaving him before he leaves you. Leaving the town for university, leaving him for someone better off, or for love. You let him down easy, with a soft smile, and thank him for all the years of help. Help. What he had done for you reached beyond help. He was your saviour from god knows what. Anger burns in his veins but he just breathes low and even before asking if you want to have one last evening, just like the old times. How could you say no? You should have said no. You think it'll just be slow, soft, goodbye sex but the moment the handcuffs come out, you realise it won't be. In the hot tub, on the bed, against the balcony railing, Avery drills into you, slamming in deep with every thrust. You should have known to try and run when you reminded him of the condoms in his back pocket and he took them out just to throw them in the bin right in front of you. Cums deep inside of you every time, groaning into your neck. Dawn slips in through the curtains and Avery lights another cigarette before looking at your spent body next to him. Do you think your had any future now, with anyone or anything else, when swollen with a child?
Harper. You were going to be released. After so much time together at the asylum, you'd leave the intimate nest that kept you close to him at all times. He had been so blind to every thing other than his work, his work and you, that he hadn't realised that the time for you to go had arrived. Just one last night together. So he creeps to your room, just to watch you sleep a bit. Just that. Just watching. He always likes you like this, unaware and soft. He watches, soft, until he can't watch anymore. No more mandatory therapy. No more check ups. No more washing you in the shower, soapy fingers slipping between your thighs. Harper could make it mandatory, but who would make you go? What could force you to keep coming to him, to his office, to his embrace? Well, it's obvious. It's the time of your life that would be the most closely monitored with doctor's visits and check ups. He doesn't even take his shirt off, just shuck his trousers down to his thighs and climbs on top of you. Doesn't matter if you wake up. His desperate rutting into you, making sure to cum deep inside, the thoughtless need of it all, it doesn't feel like a disgusting act of violence, but tastes like the honeymoon night, with the only person for him.
Morgan. He always wanted grandkids. He loves grandkids. Seeing his baby round with life, and knowing it'll tie them to their papa for the rest of their life filled him with blind euphoria. No one could ever take you away from him, not like everyone from his wife, to the town had tried. You were his baby... He just had missed you so much. Doesn't help that you seemed so lonely at times, asking him to go to see your friends and go to your part time job. After all, he was the one insisting on home schooling and special cuddles since he made enough for the both of you. You needed to be home. You could have your baby for company, the same way he had his own for company. "Let daddy make you happy." He whispers to you, even as you act out. He just wants you to be happy. His baby deserves it all, his cock, his seed, your own bundle of joy.
Baby traps you out of spite:
Bailey. Maybe you ran your mouth just a bit too much that day. Maybe he was sick of your love sick puppies coming to the door and whine for some time with you. Maybe he just happened to grit his teeth to the point of pain as one of his brats sat before him, belly swollen as their baby daddy sat next to them, making plans to take them off his hands and live full time with them instead. Another source of income cut off. Maybe it was because you were his best earner and god knows if you fucking used protection. It didn't matter. What mattered is that, despite your pleas, he wasn't going to pull out. Slamming deep inside of you, hissing under his breath that you'd never be able to leave with any of your little boyfriends, not when another man's child grew in your belly. Later he might regret snapping like that, now that you had his brat. He might. Or he leans against your door frame, staring as you slept, shirt riding up to show the subtle bump of something growing inside of you.
Avery. But this time, if you're being bad. You ghosted him, you spurned him, you ran around with everyone in town without sparing a thought for the man that handed over enough money for you to thrive amongst Bailey's brats. Perhaps his snaps when he sees you flirting with one of his superiors, or that stupid kid you ran around with. Perhaps he waits outside the pub, smoking his imported cigarettes down to the filters until you appear, tipsy and looking like a whore. It doesn't take much to force you into the back of his car, ripping at your shirt to force it up, over your head to force your arms up, restraining you. You were his first. You were the one that was so perfect on every date before this rebellious streak. You've humiliated him. So there's nothing he'd want more than to return the favour. And when you're round with his child, and in need of support, he'd laugh. No one would believe you, a common street rat would have been forced to carry his child, him, a respected businessman. Doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy your hole squeezing tight around him as he roughly ruts into your poor guts.
Whitney. You dirty fucking whore. Running around with the greasy rat, the loser and the religious freak while he proclaims you as his bitch? Did the collar, did the tattoo, did your sore hole mean fucking nothing? So he corners you in the bathroom, snickering with his friends as he boxes you into the stall and begins to undo his belt. His bitch deserved a litter if you were going to let anyone who sniffed around you fuck you. Also it's just funny. The way the teachers would look at you with disappointment, the way your other dogs would stop sniffing around you. The way your uniform won't fit you at all in just a few months. Whitney still can't decide if he should show you off, the knocked up slut all for him, or to make you beg for him to keep you around. After all, the way you squealed and kicked on his cock, even now had him fucking dizzy.
Remy. Of course it made perfect sense. What sort of cow produces even more milk? One swollen with a calf. It helps that the idea occured to him after you made your latest successful escape attempt and Wren was the one to return you to your proper place in life. It's hard to run with a swollen belly, and milky tits. Maybe it would even endear him to you, snuffling into his hand, wanting some attention since your stupid, empty brain thought of him as master and as mate. So, with you struggling and huffing in your breeding bench, Remy sends everyone else out. He should just use some of the semen that the bulls deposited earlier, but why should he? Not when you were his favourite for so long, licking his fingers clean when the juices from the apple stained his skin. The one he looked forward to seeing the most. The one he fisted his cock to, imagining the way you'd keen and whine with his cock rutting into you and filling you up with his own milk. He could also prepare a room for your calf to live in, just so you'd paw at him to let you see his only heir, the one to inherit it all, even if they did have soft cow eyes and spotted, velvety ears.
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nastarciz · 3 months
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⚠️ SH, BLOOD, WOUND LICKING ⚠️
Harper cleaning up your blood.
+ pain
++ arousal
+ love
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swpdz000 · 10 months
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they're like bugs
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dumbhirano · 8 months
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