Male Reader inserts

camellia || gilbert ross

{smut}

*necro roleplay, medical tools, knife/scalpelplay, dubcon, drugging, aftercare*

source: B: The Beginning
~
The operating room was cold and clinical, the silence absolute music to Gilbert's ears. The heels of his dress shoes clicked lightly against the linoleum floor, white to make it easy to catch spills. Gilbert would've hummed a quiet tune to himself if he wasn't as excited as he was to approach the operating table. He took a small handheld recorder out of his lab coat pocket, clicking it on before speaking into the mic.

"November XX, 20XX, operating on a John Doe today. No external wounds, no outstanding marks. Will proceed with the tactile analysis." Gilbert set the recorder off to the side of his tool pan, slipping on white latex gloves. He licked his lips lightly, eyes dragging over the still body laying supine on the cold slab of metal. He noted the goosebumps littering the cadaver's flesh all over, raising an eyebrow as he walked around the body of the table slowly, appraising every inch of exposed skin.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself as he stopped at the head of the table on the opposite side of where he'd started from. Pale icey eyes trailed down the gentle slope of closed eyes, swooping with the elegant curve of this John Doe's lashes. Lower Gilbert's eyes fell, the cute pink bow of the cadaver's lips strangely enticing. How gorgeous they'd look whilst slick with spit, parting lightly to meekly accept whatever intrusion Gilbert offered. He chuckled to himself and shook his head, refocusing on the task at hand. Thumbing the soft flesh of the John Doe's plush lips, Gilbert clinically pried open the cadaver's mouth, peering into the small cavern.

"Body is still producing saliva - a strange phenomenon. Abnormal for the dead. Mouth looks normal, no significant or outstanding marks." Gilbert pressed further into the cadaver's throat, searching for any lumps or lacerations. Spit pooled under his hand, causing Gilbert to hum with interest lightly. The muscles of the throat gently contracted around his fingers in a small, barely there gag, uvula slightly quivering at the contact. The derisive smirk that melted onto his thin lips was undertoned with a slight humor. What a strange corpse. His latex gloved hand moved from the mouth, dragging sensually over soft lips, to the paled column of the cadaver's throat. Nothing abnormal. He dragged his fingers once again, down the stilled chest of the cadaver, barely ghosting over a pebbled nipple. The cadaver twitched slightly.

"Sensitive?" Gilbert purred, a thin white eyebrow raised amusedly. The throat of the John Doe fluttered pathetically, as if trying to say something unimportant. Gilbert simply kept the sultry, condescending look on his face as his finger trailed over the tender meat of a completely relaxed stomach, pressing down a slight under the belly button. That urged another staggered fluttering of the throat. The white haired doctor hardly cast a glance at the dick that was shyly setting itself straight up, timid like a juvenile deer in a hunter infested forest.

Latex gloved hands trailed even further down, purposely avoiding the slowly hardening dick right in front of him. He "palpitated" a thigh, using this as another excuse to tease his sweet John Doe.

"Your thighs are soft. Have you been skipping the gym to go frolic with men? Or have you simply gorged yourself enough to gain some fat here like a spoilt, slutty princess?" The John Doe's dick twitched harder, swelling up till the tip was a heady red and eagerly leaking. Gilbert clicked his tongue, dragging his hand down to the back of the knee, lifting it into a press against the cadaver's chest.

"My, what a life of indulgence you must've led," he tsked, gloved hand removing itself from his lab coat pocket to stretch the fluttering pink hole before him. "Never taken anything in here, have you? I wouldn't know if you did. Such a pretty little whore ..." he pressed his middle finger against the suction teasingly, dipping the tip in before pulling it away swiftly. The corpse let out a strained and raspy wheeze, the coroner's eyes glinting.

He removed both hands off the corpse's body, resting both hands behind his back as he steadily made his way back up to the torso. "Physical examination complete; no outstanding issues. Onto the autopsy."

He could practically head the heartbeat of the cadaver start to go crazy as he walked over to his cart and picked up a scalpel. Perhaps this poor man was afraid of sharp objects when he'd been alive. A shame - sharp things were so fun to play with.

Gently, he poised the cold metal blade right at the tip of the right shoulder, the edge just slightly digging to bead up blood. Bluish purple lips wavered, twitching. Gilbert only looked at them briefly before dragging the scalpel to the top of the sternum. The blood that bubbled up along the way was a beautiful carmine, like a delectable red wine. He ought to crack open the bottle he bought not to long ago. If only he had someone to join him.

Stopping momentarily at the top of the sternum, the coroner took note of the corpse. Fingers and toes were twitching, throat opening and closing rapidly. The wheezes and breaths the corpse made would have terrified any other person. To Gilbert, it was a symphony on par with Chopin and Beethoven. A simple smile on his face bloomed as he continued with his work, lightly slicing the length of the sternum and then some. The spasms came harder and more violently.

"Hm, so eager to ruin my masterpiece. You must've been quite the imp when you were alive." His quip fell on deaf ears as he poised his scalpel once again at the apex of the left shoulder. "Behave now," he warned. "Wouldn't want to puncture your jugular. Then you'd really be dead." The corpse didn't stop. Gilbert just smiled and continued as if nothing had happened.

With the initial Y cut finished, Gilbert watched the blood droplets race down the planes of the cadaver, no longer dark and instead a vibrant crimson. Legs bent and unbent violently, arms starting scrabble, the head of the John Doe jerking side to side. The doctor just watched on benignly, as if this was something he'd seen every day since the beginning of his life. He knew the spasms would get worse as the body started to become mobile again, but somehow he couldn't stop looking at that beautiful, immaculate Y laceration.

He bowed his head, apologizing in his mind for the man he was about to become, and leaned forward, pale lips wrapping around the slit of the cut. He lapped at the blood, sucking hard until whines and whimpers exuded from the cadaver, fingers clumsily running over his face and burying themselves in his hair. He straightened, pulled away with blood staining his teeth and a hickey right where the laceration would scar - smack dab in the middle.

Wide (e/c) eyes stared up at him, the John Doe looking at him so expectantly. Gilbert took the cold, so cold, hands of the John Doe and sat him up, the poor man shaking like a leaf.

"Coat?" Gilbert offered, slipping off his coat in preparation. The man sitting on the autopsy table nodded, trembling hands uselessly reaching out. The doctor wrapped the John Doe up, hands left to rest on his shoulders.

"Hug?" The John Doe nodded and Gilbert squeezes the man protectively into his arms. The two stayed like that for a bit, just breathing and coming down. Ice floe eyes darted down to look at the top of an (h/c) head.

"The scene is over, you can talk." The John Doe - (Y/n) - nodded and swallowed thickly.

"I know, Gil." And he pressed his face into the crook of Gilbert's neck, the material of the turtleneck comfortable and soft. The doctor, unsure what to do further than this, awkwardly patted the other man's head, waiting for him to calm. He stayed silent, wanting (Y/n). to be the one to lead the conversation. And so he waited until (Y/n) took a deep breath, wet his lips, and looked up at those ice blue eyes.

"Next time, I want you inside of me." Gilbert. a proud smirk on his aged face, simply continued to pat (Y/n)'s head. That could wait until after the injured party was cleaned and dressed. But once that was done, he'd make sure to be extra rough, just for his Doe.

~

man smuts take for fuckin ever man i'm not lying