the sun is out. the car stereo is bumpin. fresh gusts of wind rolling through the windows. i saw an old man wearing a hawaiian shirt and chino shorts yet with the hottest new balances i'd ever seen this morning. about to take a trip to the beach tomorrow with some old friends and get a nice tan while we drink. life is pretty alright when the stars finally decide to align, when you can stop moving for a moment and actually take in the few genuine, human pleasures we have left. i find myself yearning for connections more than ever, and finding myself amongst people i truly appreciate for their existence, and not just their company. i could add more to this, but today is not tomorrow yet, so let me just bask in this moment for now.
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.]
âIt 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 youâd 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 didnât know how long heâd kept you like this, but it mustâve 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 shouldâve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldnât be right. Doctors werenât supposed to make you feel so bad.
âI mean, I know it should be a doctorâs goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, butââ He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. âGood, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. Iâm allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, arenât I?â
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 bodyâs best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like âunfitâ and âdependentâ 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 hadnât already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, heâd let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldnât imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
âAnd youâve been so cooperative, too,â he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. âAlways taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind â 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 youâd do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.â
It was him moving, this time â 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 didnât seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. âAlmost done, little mouse. Just one more page.â 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. âYou remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?â
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadnât been planted so deeply inside of you. âIfâŠâ you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. âIf I do, can I go home?â
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadnât meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didnât 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 mightâve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. âOf course,â he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. âSign, and Iâll take you home tonight.â
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. âWhere do you think youâre going, little mouse?â
âI need toâ You said I could goââ
âJust give me another minute, darling.â
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
âI want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.â
female character: "hey i'm a strong, well-written character."
male 'fans': "okay, you're weak and useless though because you experience human emotion."
female character: "no i mean it. i'm not only the most powerful species in my source, i'm also a goddess and the literal incarnation of life energy itself. i canonically devour entire planets like they were popcorn kernels. i can explode the universe just by thinking about it. i also have more emotional complexity in my left foot than you do in your entire body."
male 'fans': *proceeds to reduce female character to 'weak'/'useless' for having any emotions or flaws*
male 'fans': "why don't we have any strong, well-written female characters?"
I love you extremely slow burning shoujos. i love you hyping up the smallest of progress and celebrating every step of the journey. "Have they kissed yet?" "When will she confess" bro shut up its the school festival arc and they're watching fireworks from the empty classroom window and she can see the light of the fires reflected in his eyes - knowing that this is a moment that only the two of them can share. do you hear yourself
guy that has read 10 shoujos: you should check out akatsuki no yona
guy that has read 100 shoujos: Ugh i can't believe gojolover4000 50 followers would say that jjk female cast clears every shoujo protagonist. im going to spend the next 3 days talking about this and also make a 45 minutes youtube video response proving why they are wrong
guy that has read 1000 shoujos: you should check out akatsuki no yona
