thedeadestofdoves

[thedeadestofdoves]

Was just diagnosed with “need to bite you” disorder. Yeah sorry it’s terminal. The only cure is biting you. C’mere.

[thedeadestofdoves]

“do you think you’ll still be writing fanfic when you’re 90?” yes, I do, and I hope AO3 is still here with me when I’m a 90 year old childless fanfic writer who writes slow burn dead dove do not eat dubcon gay sex enemies to lovers. next

[thedeadestofdoves]

hi um my liege y-you asked me to um. report back to you when the prisoner you sent into the labyrinth had been, um, dealt with by th-the minotaur. well y-your highness t-there seems to be a bit of an, ahem, issue. no, no the prisoner is still in the labyrinth, y-yes the minotaur found them. i-it just ah, um, it appears that the. it appears that the prisoner and the minotaur are, um, they're-

[thedeadestofdoves]

NON-freaks dni. This is a freaks only zone

[thedeadestofdoves]

more people need to give themselves permission to write and draw pornography

[thedeadestofdoves]

this is literally me if you even care

also there's very little fakeboy art so yea i wanted to draw a big titted fakeboy so yea, enjoy

wruf woof

[thedeadestofdoves]

whats a little undernegotiated overstimulation btwn a man and his unlawfully obtained and restrained teen wife

[thedeadestofdoves]

[thedeadestofdoves]

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.”

[thedeadestofdoves]

I want to corrupt Sydney and then put his chastity cage back on him (one that I have the key to) and convince him that it's oh so terrible that he got corrupted and that I need to help purify him again, make him feel shame and guilt for lusting after me so much, make him beg me to show him the path to purity

and so I do, praying with him and scolding him for enjoying spanking me a little Too much, and I ensure that he's completely pure again

only to drag him back into corruption, force him to desperately beg for my touch and make him humiliate himself just for a chance for me to let him out of his chastity cage

[thedeadestofdoves]

Being hunted down by something that wants to eat you? Meh. But being hunted down by something that wants to breed you? A big predator mindlessly tongue fucking your mouth while it creampies you raw and repeatedly in a mating press, leaning over you and gripping your ankles like handle bars. Packing your tummy to the brim with thick, potent, beast cum and impregnating you with your first litter of big, strong, pups. Giving you more and more because you take a rough fucking and good seeding so well.

[thedeadestofdoves]

ⓘ this user has a particularly severe breeding kink

[thedeadestofdoves]

They're dropping the sequel to HRT which turns you into a beast or creature of some sort

[thedeadestofdoves]

[thedeadestofdoves]

This is your signal to let yourself write the deranged, uncomfortable, disgusting fiction that you've been thinking about.

[thedeadestofdoves]

I only follow back freaks and creatures of the night. I’m sure you understand