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#i think i need to ask my dr for a test at least???
roachemoji · 4 months
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dr-gaytorius · 1 year
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shout out to my math professor for giving us 5 assignments (not counting the actual final) for the last week of class and also for not giving me the extensions i asked for even though she said she’d give them bc i have uterine fibroids lol♥
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skythealmighty · 8 days
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can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun
#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you
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💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!
1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow
:)
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
HELLO??
#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/
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🧪 test-tubular Follow
My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...
#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly
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⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow
i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing
💼 emotional-baggage Follow
hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^
⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow
thanks, ill take you up on that later!
⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow
...suitcase?
#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...
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💰 goforthegold Follow
Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
💰 goforthegold Follow
:(
🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow
Are you Okay
💰 goforthegold Follow
Take a wild guess.
(512 notes)
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🥈 5centwonder Follow
why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!
🥈 5centwonder Follow
yowie, you all need a hug :(!!
#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie
(19 notes)
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🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow
Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay
#they'll never know which one #i'm gay
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🔌 electricalmusical Follow
WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO
👑 kingofeverything Follow
OMG NO WAY
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
GET OFF OF TUMBLR.
🔌 electricalmusical Follow
YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
...no.
👑 kingofeverything Follow
reblog if u dont have a tumblr
🎡 not-tally-hall Follow
This is stupid.
(10,734 notes)
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🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow
imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular
🖍 magic-crayons Follow
You know it girl!!!
🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow
AYYYEEEE
#idk who u are but we should hang out Now
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🟢 greenyguy Follow
🅱️alls
(42,853 notes)
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🎒 liam-plecak Follow
Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.
Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.
For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.
Keep reading
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????
🎒 liam-plecak Follow
I'm sorry what
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rxzennia · 4 months
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rare critters
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 a healthy dose of curiosity (ft. dr ratio) yall if i have to write another report i think i might kms sorry im 3 days late lol i was busy making concept art 
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when dr ratio somehow acquired a few rare critters from herta space station, he thought of one person:
aventurine.
if he’s so bad at looking after himself, maybe he could take care of something else instead. and these cat cakes are pretty tame and adorable… seems just right for him.
ratio sent a text to let aventurine know he’s coming to drop off some souvenirs
said souvenirs being these critters
ratio has one on top of his head and two in one arm as he rings the bell
it’s sometime in the afternoon, and you’re not around
(you’re attending a meeting on aventurine’s behalf so he can have a longer lunch break)
(you do that pretty often, actually. that’s why your boss can have entire afternoons or evenings to himself)
nothing would’ve prepared ratio for what he sees when aventurine opens the door
one, no, two? no, three?? faceless serpents slithering around his feet
and one really huge one around his neck???
their maws, aeons, their maws. as stunned as ratio is, he’s also scared shitless
they remind him of a certain aeon and he isn’t sure if he liked the implications
though, that aeon has long since disappeared…
the very moment the serpents sniffed something in the air, they’re all right up in ratio’s face
the trash cakes are definitely scared shitless
they’re quivering and whimpering
ratio is trying so hard to hide his unease
“since when did you have pets, gambler?”
“oh, they’re my assistant’s – don’t bite, please.”
and these dangerous, dangerous noodles listened???
they backed off obediently while still scenting the air again and again
at least they’re not one hair away from ratio anymore?
wait, more importantly…
“you’re living with your assistant?” ratio can’t help but ask. “and… they brought their pets over?”
technically, the slithery creatures around the house aren’t your pets, they’re literally parts of you, but does aventurine want to get into the details? not particularly.
“doctor, it’d be heartless of me to tell them to leave their pets,” aventurine chuckled, “it’s a long story. are these…?”
“i thought pets would do you some good. seems like your assistant has the same idea.” ratio passes the three cakes over to him. “here – from the space station.”
aventurine tells the especially thick leviathan on his neck to get off so he could hold the trash cakes
more like patting its body a few times until it got the signal and slid off of him
the cakes like him!
once he’s passed the sniff test, the cakes are all over him
they do remind him of someone, with those yellow eyes and grey… trash can(?) like body…
he holds them carefully, because unlike your creatures, he needs to hold onto these little guys
else they’d fall
invites ratio in while he’s at it, and he sits down to properly examine them
ratio watches aventurine for a moment, until your serpents catch his attention
oh, he’s so unnerved by them, but also…
he’s so curious! his scholarly senses are telling him to seize the opportunity!
are they really the same creatures as the ones depicted in the scriptures for oroboros?
how did aventurine get his hands on them? or rather, how did you get your hands on them?
and why are they so, so… docile, if they are really what he thinks they are?
what have you done!? how did you get them to be your pets?
his academic interest in you might have just skyrocketed
he engages in a staring contest with a creature with no eyes
somehow, somehow he just knows it’s a staring contest
he’s debating between approaching or not
they look like they would snap his neck before he could even react
“don’t try it, doctor,” aventurine warns, reading ratio’s actions from a mile away, “they’ll probably bite.”
“huh…” ratio makes a sound of pure wonder as he stands still, staring at the few noodles slithering over each other and scenting the air around him. “how did you tame them, then?”
“i didn’t.” aventurine shrugs as he plays with the new critters in his arms. “just sit tight, my assistant should be back soon.”
does that mean you’re the one deciding who gets to touch your serpents and who doesn't???
meanwhile aventurine has taken to the cakes from the space station
they’re so delicate and adorable, with their huge eyes and how stretchy they are
such a contrast to your huge serpents
your serpents are curious about them too, it seems
they keep trying to slither up aventurine’s legs
he has to keep pushing them down, all the while their maws opened and closed
trying to get a feel for the taste of these critters
not trying to outright eat them, just trying to get a taste
ratio is itching to just… grab one of your noodles
he can’t
how devastating
just then, the door opens with a click
“i’m home, aven.” you enter and practically throws your shoes off. 
the sudden need to retain some semblance of formality in your home feels foreign to you now, but you’ve sensed someone else’s presence. it can’t be helped, even if the name aven feels odd on your tongue.
weird, aventurine usually runs out the moment he hears you
when you made your way to the living room, you see him and… some random guy?
said random guy looks like he’s into greek mythology?
is he like zeus or something
no, more like male athena or something
“oh, welcome back!” aventurine perks up as he lifts one of the cakes and shows it to you like a proud parent. “look at these little guys!”
your eyes never quite look away from the stranger, but you also dazedly take the critter into your arms. “this is…”
you immediately catch ratio’s eye – the way you carry yourself, the way the ends of your scarf seem to move on their own, and the way the few serpents find their way up your neck without so much as trying to touch the cake in your hands (even though they’ve been trying to taste it when it was in aventurine’s arms).
“veritas ratio.” he stands up before aventurine could introduce him and offers you a handshake. “you might know me as dr ratio of the intelligentsia guild.”
you stare at him without much of a reaction
his hand stays outstretched as he watches you expectantly
after a few seconds, you give his hand a firm shake and introduce yourself
you do know him, actually, you’ve read a few of his works
you quite liked his takes on philosophy and natural theology
he’s very insightful for a mortal
“can i help you?” you ask, because you don’t think ratio would bother talking to you if he hadn't been curious about something.
“your pets are most fascinating,” he gets straight to the point, “may i examine them?”
???
your pets?
the serpents? 
you look to aventurine, who just turns away like he didn’t tell ratio those are your pets
you pinch the bridge of your nose and exhales exasperatedly
then again, perhaps calling them your pets is the best course of action right now
because the other option is spilling the beans about yourself
yeah
so… nice save, aventurine
you set down the critter in your arms on a nearby table and turn to face the doctor
“here.” you pick up one of your leviathans and guide it over to ratio. “they might do… things around you, but they won’t hurt you.”
ratio tries not to flinch when the heavy leviathan slither up his arm and coil around his neck loosely, but he winces and backs away slightly anyway. “how are you so certain?” he watches the creature with so much wonder as it scents him, then lifts its head so he can stare at it properly. or the other way around; so it can stare at him properly. who knows.
a healthy dose of cynicism is always good
it’s not like you don’t understand where he’s coming from
you shrug, because you really have no better answer without outing yourself
“i have them trained.” you say, but at this point you’re just pulling shit out of your ass
aventurine immediately covers his mouth to hide a snort
you shoot him a quick glare
you run a hand along its smooth body to show ratio that yes, he can touch them
its maw opens a little wider and drools a little onto the carpet
ratio carefully puts his hand on top of its head
it turns its head on contact and nudges against his hand
trying to scent the thing touching it (aka ratio’s hand)
but it doesn’t do anything other than what appears to be purely harmless scenting
could this possibly be the subject of his next paper?
“don’t think about it, doctor.” you cut him off the moment you see the telltale glint of academic interest in his eyes. 
“i must disagree; they are of leviathan descent, are they not?” ratio asks, now caressing the big noodle with both hands and handling it with less hesitation than before, “this is of utmost significance; they might shed some light on the mystery of oroboros the voracity.”
you narrow your eyes at ratio
he doesn’t even try to prod around the subject, he just hits you in the face with it
as expected of such an erudite scholar, but still
(aventurine is watching the interaction with much interest while he plays with the cats)
(it’s like he’s enjoying the show)
(the remaining free serpents of yours has coiled up by his feet and fallen asleep)
(since they’ve realized aventurine doesn’t want them near the cakes)
you don’t want to bring too much attention to yourself, or your serpents
you don’t want things about oroboros to spread, either
in fact, you’re quite thankful to the enigmata and the ipc for heavily censoring them 
“with all due respect, i refuse.” you do not allow any room for disagreement. “you are prepared to uncover the truth. is the rest of the cosmos ready?”
that’s not all of your argument, but the one you determine would be enough to keep ratio from conducting and publishing research about leviathans for now. oh, right – you’re not against ratio’s curiosity. you simply don’t want that curiosity to spread far and wide.
ratio frowns, not expecting such a swift rejection from you, but you do have a point. he’s a little blinded by his excitement.
your rejection sounds a little personal, if aventurine may say so himself
to ratio, it is very much just you being overprotective of your pets
as all pet owners do
to be fair, it’s hard to say. ratio is a sharp man
you stare at him, and he stares at you
the leviathan hanging on his neck tilts its head in confusion
if ratio is anything, he’s persistent
especially when it comes to knowledge
he opens his mouth to try to convince you again
you beat him to it and raise a hand to stop him from talking. “you can examine them for as long as you do not make publications.”
ratio is taken aback, his brows furrowing as you give him permission for further interaction with these descendants of ancient leviathans. this is your first meeting, so why –
in fact, aventurine is wondering the same thing
like, why are you getting along with the doctor so well when you’ve only met today
he’s not jealous or anything, he just has a huge question mark on your reactions
you’re usually very, very guarded against people who ask questions
especially about your scarf
but then ratio did see your serpents slithering around
perhaps you see no way of weaselling your way out of this?
anyway
if we’re being honest, ratio also has a huge question mark on your reactions
“i am a fan of your philosophical works,” you say, guiding your serpent back around you, “hence i am willing to satisfy your curiosity… provided you agree to my terms. think of it as an invitation.”
ratio takes a moment to mull over your words. to think that someone under the ipc has read multiple of his works, and has enjoyed them… is that why you are willing to compromise? but, well… you give him a feeling of a learned person. perhaps he will enjoy debating you.
“very well, that is good enough.” he nods, even if he still feels just a little bit disappointed, he’s anticipating a good back-and-forth with you already. “in that case…”
“i will let you know when i am free.” you sit down next to aventurine and let the critters on his lap crawl over to you and knead your thigh with their little paws. “and, doctor?”
it’s apparent to you that ratio has the same thought as you did when you decided to let your serpents drop their disguises at home. you glance towards aventurine next to you, then back at the doctor.
“thanks for the critters.”
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woodywood101blog · 30 days
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Experimental (Part 1)
Yazan loved learning about new medical breakthroughs. As a doctor, he spends a lot of time understanding how new technologies are being tested and introduced that help make his patients' lives better and healthier. He mostly found it interesting learning about the newest ideas. As soon as it says "first" in the research paper title or news report, he was right on it.
So when he saw a research paper from an Australian team that said "first experimental pregnancy in a man", he looked at it with both intrigue and concern. Clearly men shouldn't get involved in something so.. feminine, he thought.
Of course, when he read the paper, it explained that the researchers at the University of Sydney's School of Medicine were only able to confirm viability up to 3 weeks of pregnancy. They explained that the hormonal changes required for the pregnancy to continue in a man would be so overwhelming that it would cause harm to the man, and that is without considering that it would be medically an ectopic pregnancy from the get-go. Suffice to say, it's medically dangerous, and emphasised as such by the researchers.
Oh well, good try, Yazan thought.
A couple of weeks later, an email popped into Yazan's inbox about a conference in Sydney, and a request to present there. He actually had never been to Australia before, especially with how expensive flights and everyday costs there are, so he took the chance and agreed to present.
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Yazan finally made it across to Australia and was able to present his new research in haematology, while also taking in the sights and experiences of Sydney. One night, he stumbled across Oxford Street, the hub for queer culture in Sydney and home of the Mardi Gras parade. He grabbed the first high table he could see at the Oxford Hotel, and just observed people going about their fun Saturday nights while tucking into a steak.
He saw someone eyeing him from the side, and when he turned he saw a beautiful man. Although he was short, he appeared built like Yazan. He had short brown hair, a square jaw and light stubble, but didn't appear stoic or aggressive like other men. This man slowly walked towards him and sat in the seat next to Yazan.
"You're Dr Yazan, right?"
"Yeah... and you are?"
"Mike! I think I saw you at the conference in Darling Harbour today? Well done today!"
Sure enough, Mike was sitting and observing Yazan's presentation, but also for other reasons. Mike was part of the Australian team that researched male pregnancy. He had been developing a form of hyper-concentrated hormonal medication that would allow a pregnancy to remain viable for longer than 3 weeks in men, but was a long way off small-scale animal testing, let alone human testing. Mike was getting worried the research would be wound down by the university, so was starting to think about ways of getting the research to speed forward, without the university's immediate knowledge.
And he knew exactly what he wanted to do...
"So, that's the general gist of what I've been researching on..." Yazan said. "I kinda need to pop to the bathroom quickly.. do you mind looking after my meal, please? Feel free to have some of the fries!"
"No worries!"
Show time. Once Yazan was out of sight, Mike grabbed a small vial of what looked like salt flakes, but were actually some of the experimental hormones. They looked almost exactly like the coarse salt already on Yazan's steak, so it could work, Mike thought.
"Here goes nothing..." Mike sprinkled the salt all over the steak and the fries. At the very least, his food will just be very salty.
"Hey there, thanks for that!" Yazan said as he got back a couple of minutes later. They ended up continuing their conversation about the research they were respectively undertaking. Yazan asked about the fertility trials Mike helped with, including the male pregnancy trials, but made it very clear he wasn't surprised with the outcome.
The talking slowly turned to flirting, especially after Yazan finished his meal. He started feeling quite flustered, and vaguely horny. Of course, it helped that Mike was one of the cutest Aussies he had met here. Eventually, Yazan took off his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.
"Looking good, doc" Mike said with a wink.
"If you want to see more, want to come back to my hotel?"
And with that, Yazan and Mike sauntered their way from Oxford Street, across Hyde Park towards Sydney Town Hall. Mike took his chance and reached towards Yazan's hand. Yazan latched on without question.
Once they got to Yazan's hotel room, it was almost instant how quickly they got their clothes off each other. They were like two horny rabbits going at it, and they were at it almost all night. Yazan felt such a rush of energy throughout the whole time, and never once felt tired or spent. Mike wondered if the hormones were doing their thing, but those thoughts were overruled by the fact he was fucking the hottest doctor in town!
Each time, Yazan urged to be the bottom, which he found unusual as he normally is the top. There was something about Mike that just made Yazan want to be fucked by him.. maybe it was the muscles hidden under Mike's suit? All Yazan understood was that he needed to be fucked now through any means.
They woke up the following morning, the bedsheets sprawled in every direction on top of Mike and Yazan. Mike woke up with his dick still in Yazan, and still rock hard. Sure enough, it appeared that Yazan was still eager to go when he started waking up and felt Mike still in him.
"I could honestly keep going all day, Mike. I feel like I'm 18 years old all over again!"
"Really?"
After one (or two) more loads in Yazan, they finally moved into the shower. Yazan's abs had become slightly misshapen from how much Mike came in him. It was a bit surreal for Mike to see, because it really did look like he was pregnant.
What have I done, Mike worried.
***
I haven't done this in quite a while, but finally getting around to getting the first part out of a longer-form story I've been thinking about. Let me know your thoughts!
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dstryvampres · 3 months
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Smoke Signals
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Jonathan Crane x Reader
Summary: Dr Crane is tired of you talking back.
Warnings: smut, fingering, age gap(reader is early 20s, crane is mid 40s), power imbalance, brat taming(I think??), reader is a smoker, dub con, p in v, unprotected, praise, degradation, spanking, creampie
Word count: 2.2k
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The trek to Dr Crane office on the fifth floor was quick and easy, seeing as there was no one else using the elevator because it was so late at night. When you push open the door to Dr Crane’s office it creaks, alerting him immediately to your presence.
“I thought I told you to quit smoking before you come to my office,” is what Dr Crane decides on greeting you with. His face is stern, pen in hand as he writes out a statement on a student’s quiz.
“Yeah, well I was fiending all day and they don’t let you have a smoke within 15 meters of the psychology testing centre. Hard to get a smoke break in,” You quip back, hanging your tote bag over the back of a chair before sliding between it and Dr Crane’s desk to sit.
“Well, if you won’t quit all together, you could at least have the common courtesy to not reek of it near me,” He scoffs, clicking his pen and setting it down on his desk.
You toy with the fabric of your sheer black tights as Dr Crane sets aside whatever he was working on before and brings out two sheets of paper. Two rubrics, one for him, which he settles in front of him, and one for you, which he flips towards you.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Dr Crane asks, standing up from his desk and heading towards the table near the window. He clicks on the kettle, staring at it for a couple seconds before he starts to hear it bubble up before he turns to you again.
“Just any tea is fine, except ginger, I want something herbal tonight,” you reply, rummaging through your tote bag looking for a pen to use for tonight.
“So herbal tea?” Jonathan asks, shaking his head at you in the corner of your eye.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” you sit up straight once again when you find your pencil case, plopping it down on Dr Crane’s darkwood desk.
You hear a sigh from the professor as he turns around to look out the window at the rain, his fingers toying around with the packaging of a tea bag. No matter if Dr Crane happens to be your boss, you can’t deny that he’s insanely attractive. Young looking face with high cheekbones, blue eyes that stare holes into your being, dark brown hair that he somehow styles perfectly without trying that hard, all packaged in suits that do him far too many favours. Sure he has a slightly bitter attitude, but you’re no better. With all the times you snap back and push his buttons he’s far too patient with you, and seems to genuinely care about your well being. Whether that care is actually genuine or is just to avoid having to find another TA, you’re not one hundred percent sure.
A click comes from the kettle, and soon enough Dr Crane sets down a steaming mug in front of you before sliding into his own chair with a mug in his hand.
“Thank you,” you say, blowing on the steaming liquid in hopes to cool it down quicker.
“Don’t burn yourself.”
Dr Crane grabs his pen before directing both of your attention to the rubric and assignment guide. He drones on about the basics, word count, percentage to dock based off of just principle things, before delving into more important specifics to the assignment. For a supposed research essay, the need to include the students own fears into the mix was a weird choice to be a necessity. There’s no need to ask about it, the conditions for the assignment have already been set in stone, the due date is in about a week.
“Everything making sense?” Dr Crane asks, looking at you, eyebrows furrowed together.
You nod in response, reaching over to grab a highlighter from Dr Crane’s collection across the table. Maybe you should bring up the weird conditions of the assignment…
“Actually, just one thing confuses me about this assignment,” You start, looking for any signs of anger from Dr Crane, knowing just how often you seem to push his buttons before continuing, “why do the students need to disclose their own fears in this assignment, it’s supposed to be a research essay on different ways the brain copes with fear.”
Dr Crane clenches his jaw, looking away from you annoyed. Acting like you were questioning the fundamentals of grammar and not some strange one off point he decided to add to this assignment. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses and laying them down on the table.
“You’re not the one running the class, are you?” Dr Crane asks, voice showing just thin his patience has become in a matter of seconds.
“Well, obviously not, but I’m just-”
You’re cut off with the screeching of Dr Crane’s chair as he stands up, walking towards the door. Fuck, is he going to leave? Is he going to ask you to leave? Are you being fired out of one of the best looking jobs on your resume? When you hear the click of the lock on the door, you’re not sure if your fate is better or worse than any of the options thought of before. Nevertheless, your body tenses up and your head starts to fog up, whatever is going to happen you don’t think it will be too pleasant.
“You know what? I’m so sick of you always thinking you know better than me,” He slowly walks over to you as he speaks, shoes clicking on the linoleum floor of his office.
“I don’t think that,” you respond, voice strained. Now he’s standing over where you’re seated, forcing you to look upwards at him. You feel so small and powerless in this moment. Maybe, it’s only now and here, in this position, that you finally remember that this man holds your entire future as a psychologist in his hands.
“I want you to remember who has more leverage here, who can get you into the best jobs in the state,” it’s like he can read your mind.
You gulp and close your eyes. You’ve spent the last year and three months of your masters degree and time as a TA under Dr Crane pushing back against him, challenging the man. You’re sure that it’s here, in his locked office that he will give you a piece of his mind before dropping you completely. Leaving you and your master’s thesis to flounder in the last half of it, beg for anyone to aid you in the specific thesis everyone knew only Crane was suitable to supervise at this university. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Please, don’t drop me and my thesis. I won’t challenge you ever again, I’ll do anything you want, please,” you beg, opening your eyes to stare at Crane’s. Hoping the eye contact would connect with some deeper part of him, but his blue eyes stared back, cold and emotionless.
“Anything?” Crane asks, quirking an eyebrow at your begging.
“Yes, anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg you, I’ll mark every assignment myself-”
“Face the table and put your hands on top of it,” Crane demands.
“What?” Your mind short circuits at his request, not expecting something like that.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to challenge me ever again?” Dr Crane sighs, crossing his arms, waiting for you to obey.
You follow his request, placing both your hands on the table, looking down at the dark oak wood. It’s cold underneath your palms, but that doesn’t help with the sweat accumulating onto your palms. Dr Crane hums behind you, seemingly happy with your compliance to his request. He kicks your feet away from the desk, making your butt stick out more.
“Now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” Dr Crane puts a hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh. Your eyebrows furrow, taking a second too long for his liking and earning a slap to the ass, you quickly move to spread your legs.
“Good girl,” Dr Crane hums, massaging the spot where he hit you previously. You whine in response, feeling a heat start to grow in your cunt.
Dr Crane smacks your ass again, a little lighter than before, almost teasing. His other hand is placed on your ass, both hands move down to your thighs, then back up to your ass, this time sliding under your skirt and flipping it up. Your pink panties are visible through the sheer black tights causing Dr Crane to sigh out.
“You feel how hard I am, slut?” Dr Crane asks, you hear the smirk in his voice as he presses his hard-on into your ass. You moan, feeling the weight of it press into your wet cunt and soiled panties.
Quickly Dr Crane rips open the thin fabric of your tights, allowing for direct access to your panties and cunt. He feels your wet heat through your panties, quickly moving them to the side to expose your cunt. You moan as the cold air of his office hits your cunt.
“You’re so wet. Do you let all your professors fuck you? Or am I a sort of desprate case?” Dr Crane cooes, ghosting his fingers over your exposed cunt.
He runs his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness over them before pushing them inside of you. The intrusion is so unexpected it makes you gasp, pull away from it briefly. He fucks you with his fingers shallowly, at a bored pace. You push back onto his fingers, begging for more. Dr Crane removes his finger from your cunt, and you whine in response.
“Fuck, you’re a desperate whore huh?” Dr Crane laughs, giving your ass another harsh slap.
Behind you Dr Crane unzips his pants, freeing his cock. He lines it up with your hole and just stays there. No matter how much you try to push back and whine for him to put it in he isn’t moving.
“You’ve been such a bitch, I don’t think you deserve my cock. Why don’t you beg for it?” you can hear the cocky look on Dr Crane’s face just from his voice. Though it doesn’t seem to matter much as you open your mouth to beg.
“Please Dr Crane, I’ll be such a good girl. You can use me anytime and I’ll never be a bitch again, as long as I have your cock, please doctor please,” you plead, wiggling your hips.
“Good girl.”
Dr Crane pushes inside of you. His cock is average length, but stretches you out in a way no other man ever has. It makes your head spin as he spears you on his cock.
“Fuck, I didn’t expect a whore like you to be so tight,” Dr Crane pants out, putting both of his hands on your waist.
He pulls out of you slowly, before slamming back into your cunt. Setting a brutal pace as soon as he slams back into you a second time. Only faltering when he smacks your ass. You yelp out each time, before pushing back onto his cock. Dr Crane continually stretched you out and hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. Your legs start to shake half way through, the only thing stopping you from crumbling being Dr Crane’s cock and hands. He pushes you back on him each time, almost demanding you take him in further.
“You fuck me so good doctor,” you moan out, “Can I cum doctor?”
“Yeah, cum all over my cock dumb slut,” Dr Crane says, speeding up the pace.
One of his hands reaches down from your hips to your clit, rubbing fast and hard on it. A touch so hard and borderline painful on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you over the edge in mere seconds. Your knees buckle. Stars flood your vision. Your boss fucking you through the whole thing.
You start to weep from overstimulation, tears welling in your eyes when you come back from your high. Dr Crane is still fucking you in the same brutal pace.
“Sluts like you don’t get breaks until I come too,” Dr Crane snarls out at you and your weeping, earning another sharp smack to your ass.
The tears spill out over your eyes as you cum again all over his cock. Your walls clenching and seizing around Dr Crane so hard his cock becomes painful as it pumps in and out of you.
He speeds up and his pace starts to become more aggressive, until Dr Crane stills inside of you. His cum rushes into your cunt, holding himself inside you after both of you have finally come down from your high. Once Dr Crane pulls out of you, you feel as his cum comes spilling out of your cunt.
“I’ll give you your share of the papers to mark next monday,” Dr Crane says, tucking his cock away and zipping up his pants. “I expect to not hear any confusion about the grading from you, I feel like I explained myself pretty well.
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taglist: @paradiseprincesss @xanaxiii @luluartpop
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buckgasms · 1 year
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Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 2)
Ok so we all really enjoyed part 1 amiright? I've done part 2 and it's still not done because this is now my new life 🎀
I am tagging a few people I hope I got everyone! @pattiemac1 @plusultra-kitten @marvelsgirl4ever @saranghaey @xonickibaby @vickie5446 @sarcastickiddo
My warning for you is it's mature and it's Doctor Kink
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You had decided to at least investigate the offer made to you by the Doctors a bit further, so you called up Dr Barnes and he happily scheduled a visit for the next evening.
You had a lot of questions, but you were also quite excited at the idea of having a baby and living a potential life of luxury all in the name of science. You were also confused as to why the two doctors were the only candidates for this trial. Surely that wasn't ethical?
⚕️
Back in the familiar office, tonight the air felt more electric with potential. The two doctors, Bucky and Steve as they asked you to call them from now on, were pleased you were there and were keen to make you feel comfortable.
"So... I want to do this. I think I do anyway. But I have questions..."
They both grin broadly and wave a hand at your questions. "That's such good news sweetheart" Bucky says, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Don't worry about the small print just yet! As one potential candidate we need to do a few tests before you sign up!"
You smile a little at him and his excitement, but couldn't help feeling a little worried at the idea of other candidates. What if someone else got the place?
"Perhaps we can get the ball rolling now Buck?" Steve says helpfully and they smile at each other. "Great idea! Let's get to work..." You stutter a little as he takes your hand and pulls you back into his examination room. "Wait you want to do this now?" You manage to blurt out, scanning between them both in a daze. "No time like the present hmm? The sooner we know, the sooner we can answer those questions and get your paperwork started!"
Bucky whirls around the room and grabs various bits of equipment that you don't really notice whilst Steve just stands there and chuckles at his friend. He notices your trepidation and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. "Don't worry honey, its all normal for these kinds of things. We're here to help you."
You smile as Bucky finishes his prep and they both head to the door. "Sweetheart I need to you strip down totally for this one, and then legs in the stirrups okay? I'll explain the rest as we go." And with that they leave the room.
You stand there shell shocked for a moment. You had planned so many questions and not at all for a physical exam this evening. But you supposed it made sense. Not point signing up for something if you weren't actually able to do it right? Plus the added fear of having this opportunity stolen by someone else made you keen to get going!
You slipped your clothes off and tried to get comfortable again on the bed, legs resting in the stirrups. You covered your chest with your arms and wiggled in place, feeling very exposed.
After a moment they both came back and were less subtle about appreciating your naked form. "Told you didn't I?" Bucky muttered and Steve just hummed in approval as they took their places. Bucky between your legs and Steve up by your head.
"So we have to do two things in this examination. One is to check your general health, and the other is your reaction to stimulus. All you have to do is relax and go with it, ok?" Steve spoke above you, placing his hand right at your shoulder and you could only nod as you heard Bucky pull his gloves on. "Oh...okay, I'll do my best..." You mutter as his hands smooth over your thighs.
Bucky asks Steve to come and look at your folds, pushing them open as he rubs fingers over them. "Hmm already stimulated?" He mutters to Bucky and they both chuckle before he heads back up to you.
"Already doing so well honey" he says catching your concerned expression before pulling on his own gloves. Steve then takes his time examining your upper half, pressing into your neck and stomach, measuring your heartbeat and blood pressure all whilst Bucky is taking notes and watching your exposed heat.
Then Steve's fingers start squeezing at your breasts, he pulls and tweaks your nipples making you whimper and squirm. "Ok easy sweetness, does that feel good?" You struggle with an answer until Bucky taps your thigh slightly firmly.
"You have to tell us the truth. If you don't give us an accurate response we can't tailor the insemination process for the optimum results. So tell us what feels good and what you need ok?"
You nod and let out an exhale. "That felt good" you pant as Steve continues his tweaking and twisting. As he does, Bucky rubs his fingers through your folds, now embarrassingly soaked which he doesn't hesitate to mention. "Think you like that a lot don't you sweetheart?"
"Hmm yes!" You groan as he rubs soft circles around your clit and your legs shake in the stirrups. Steve leans down and continues to torment you. "What about if I sucked on your tits honey? Would you like that? While Dr Barnes plays with you?"
You whine and nod as he chuckles at you, moving away to latch on to your sensitive buds. Bucky tuts as he watches on, before grabbing a vibrator and pressing it to your sensitive clit. Your hips buck as he turns the dial up and you squeak at Steve's mouth sucking at your nipples.
"I need to... Can I please come?" You strain as the pressure in your tummy builds towards a peak. Bucky hums in consideration before pulling the vibrator away. "No sweetness, we need to build you up a little more. Plenty of time for that later."
You pant as Steve also pulls away leaving your nipples swollen and sensitive in his wake. You wriggle in position, desperate for some relief but finding none in your current predicament.
"I want.... Need more, please" you moan, not caring how desperate you sound. This is already the best experience of your life and you don't want it to end.
"Tell us what you need now sweetheart" Bucky says, gently tickling at your thigh, running painfully close to touching your heat. You almost sob as you try and maintain your dignity, "just wanna come..." You feel him pinch your soft skin, "you want to come, please Dr. Barnes" he says darkly, but it sends a thrill over your body. "Please, Dr Barnes, please can I come?"
They both chuckle and settle at the lower half of you, where they promptly ignore you and talk between themselves. "I think that one to open her up?" Steve says motioning to something on the table next to him. "You wanna taste?" Bucky says and you feel two fingers probe your heat and you watch as they suck their gloved fingers, moaning as they enjoy the taste of you.
"Do you think I should try...?" Bucky says and Steve chuckles before they glance at you. Steve sinks his fingers into your pussy and curls his fingers making you moan and nibble on your fingers. "Hey beautiful? You want something your mouth and I'll make you come like this?" His thumb circles your clit and your eyes roll backward.
"Yes please Doctor Rogers, please" you beg and they laugh again as Bucky moves away and comes up to your head. He carefully adjusts the bed so your laying flat and pulls so your head hangs off the edge. He strokes your hair gently as your fingers grab at his trousers, pulling them downwards and moaning as his cock springs free. You struggle to grab it so he guides it into your waiting mouth, groaning as you immediately suck, reacting to Steve's torturous fingers.
"Holy fuck" he growls as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth, throat bulging as he slowly fucks you. You moan around him as Steve is more fast paced, jerking his fingers and rubbing your clit harshly as he grabs you towards your peak. You feel hands pawing at your breasts again as your legs shake and hands claw at leather.
"Think we've found a sweet spot here" Steve says as he feels you flutter around his fingers. When your face is covered in spit and tears Bucky pulls out of your hungry mouth and watches with hot desire. You moan and whine, "Please can I come, please?" Steve's fingers jerk and suddenly you are coming hard the sensation is enough to have you shaking as it ripples through your whole body.
Bucky lifts you back on to the bed properly so you lay more comfortably. He perches on the bed next to you and strokes a gentle hand across your face and hair. "You are doing so well sweetheart, we need to do one more check and then we'll have our results ok?"
You are on cloud nine as you nod at him, managing to murmer a quiet, "yes doctor Barnes." Your moan becomes louder as you feel a rubber cock press against your pussy and stretch you out before pressing further in. "It's big..." You whine and he strokes your face again. "I know sweetie but I know you can take it. Gonna need to be a good girl and take it for us ok? Don't want to miss out do you?"
You moan again as Steve starts pumping the cock into you, a steady but slow pace. You feel every inch of it filling you up, but it feels so good. Bucky strokes your hair again and you try and focus on what he's saying, "so you like having your pretty tits played with hmm? And a cock in your mouth, is that right sweetie?" You feel heat rush to your cheeks but you know you have to admit it. You want to be a good patient after all.
"Yes Doctor, it...ah.. it felt really good..." He smiles and leans down where you instinctively kiss him, his lips capturing yours in a breathtaking kiss. He breaks it as you whine at Steve's actions, increasing the pace below. "I think you should thank Dr. Rogers for making you come by letting him use this pretty mouth? What do you think?"
Your head floats as you find yourself nodding enthusiastically at the idea. He smiles warmly and moves away whispering something to his colleague as they swap places. Befor Steve has even got to you, you are hanging over the edge of the bed, ready and waiting.
"Eager little thing aren't you?" He chuckles, guiding his cock into your mouth as Bucky had, slowly choking you on his long length. As you sucked, you felt the another rubber head pressing at your ass and squirmed at the sensation.
"Easy honey, Dr Barnes knows what he's doing, just relax" Steve reassured you but they both waited until your body relaxed again before continuing. In moments you are being fucked from both ends, rubber filling your ass and pussy, and Dr Rogers working your mouth.
You squeal around him, pleasure rocketing through your body as the pace the set makes the table beneath you creak and your body shudder. You hands claw at Steve's thighs and your hips buck, chasing the actions of Bucky. It doesn't take long with the overstimulation of your senses before you are on the peak of pleasure. As Bucky did, Steve removes himself as you cry out, your climax crashing through your body, vision turning white as he coaxes you through it.
You lay there panting for a moment as they whisper hushed tones, very excited by the sounds of things. You can barely move for the pleasure still running through your body but you slowly come back to your self as a glass of water is pressed into your hands and a blanket is laid across your body .
"Sweetheart, that was amazing, you did so well. Do you feel ok?" Bucky asked stroking your arm and brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm not complaining about any of that" you giggle in between sips of cold water.
They both chuckle and pull up a chair each next to you while you relax. "So I think we agree that you are a perfect fit for the trial, are you still happy to take part?" Heat rushes to your face nod shyly behind your glass, giggling a little at their pink eager faces.
"But can I ask something now?" They nod as you sit up a little in your seat. "Are you the donors in this trial?" Steve coughs a little and blushes a deeper shade of pink. Bucky decides to come clean, a bit, and goes back to stroking your hair.
"We are sweetness. We know it's not usual, but this is our experiment and we want to be involved in every aspect. From choosing the right woman, to providing the sperm and anything else needed along the way."
"And what is this experiment in aid of?" You ask, but he brushes the question aside. "That's the boring bit, don't worry about that, just know that if you want to be involved, you are fully accepted."
You smile after a moment. "Ok let's sign the paperwork..."
Part Three
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lis-likes-fics · 9 months
Text
Lab Rats
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Pairings: professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader Word Count: 8.2k words Prompt: Sex Pollen Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubcon, professor/student relationship, sex pollen, oral (m!receving), fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, dumbification, name calling, degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie... A/N: This is a day late, but I got it done! I hope you enjoy this filthy piece. Dr. Crane is so much fun to write for!
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The call of your name stalled you from packing the rest of your items, your fingers tingling and your ears burning at the sound of your name breaching his lips.
“Could you stay after class, please?” Professor Crane asked, looking upon you with a set smile.
You remained calm. He would read any unnecessary excitement in the way you breathed.
You nodded, trying to sink back into the rest of the class, packing their bags to leave. You pulled the zipper of your bag closed. When enough people left the room, you made your way to the front with your bag on your person.
You had taken a certain fascination with Dr. Jonathan Crane the first moment you stepped into his class. He was handsome and charming, he knew how to teach and he always managed to pull you in.
He wasn't soft on anyone, even his favorite student usually didn't receive much special treatment. On the first day of classes, he told everyone that 50% of the class would be walking out of the door by the end of the week, and he was right. Better for you, that just meant less people to steal his attention away, less competition when it came to acing his tests and projects.
You loved his class, not just for the topic—obviously. Over the past couple of weeks, you felt his shift. His usual objectivity had switched and he seemed to point you out a little more. He praised your work, he accepted all of your input in class, he would even email you personally (sometimes talk to you after class) on your work to tell you how well you were doing.
You knew your attraction toward him would never amount to anything, it would never work out. But your fantasy was enough to quench your hunger for his attention and affection.
“Yes, sir?” you asked as you walked up to him.
Crane smiled at you. “I have a few matters I would like to speak with you privately… Could you spare the time?”
The strength of your heartbeat was extra hard for a few moments as you took in his words. You nod, “Of course, professor.”
“Step into my office?” he asked, gesturing toward the door with his name on it.
You took the first step, walking toward the door as he followed behind. You were suddenly very self-conscious of the way that you walked as you opened the door.
He moved around you when you were both inside, allowing you to shut the door as he took his spot in front of his desk. He leaned back on it, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands in his pockets.
You knew this one. He was presenting his body language to seem more relaxed in order to ease you from your guard so he could properly manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he said.
He sighed, taking a moment to look upon you. “I would like you to know that I admire you and your work greatly,” he began, “and this is what allows me to ask this of you so freely.”
You blinked, anticipating his offer. “Yes, professor?”
He smiled, almost slyly. “I am conducting an experiment of sorts, a scientific breakthrough that I would like you to be the face of.”
You stared at him, your eyes wider than you meant for them to be as you slowly recovered. “I… Me?”
He nodded. “As part of a selection of students.”
Your heart sunk slightly at that. One of a group, but his first choice, at least…
“Oh,” you nodded. “Alright, uhm… Why—What, uh…” You reprimanded yourself for your lack of eloquence. “What is the experiment? What kind is it?”
“Unfortunately,” he breathed in deep, letting out a long sigh, “that must be kept a secret until I come to a close. It's not quite done—a few last minute tweaks need to be made…” He looked off slightly, thinking to himself for a split second. His attention turned back to you, looking at you a little closer, bringing you in.
He spoke slowly, leaning off the desk to stand. He moved a little closer, and you felt his hand brush your elbow. “But I would like to know that you would be willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice when I do contact you for it.”
He took another step forward, closer now to you. You knew this one, too. He was making it personal, making you compliant. You knew this trick, it was Psychology 101.
But it worked anyway.
“Oh,” you licked your bottom lip: your own trick. “Okay.”
He smiled, raising his brows, “Yes?” he nodded.
You returned the nod. “Yes, sir,” you smiled. “I…would be honored to.”
He held your eye contact, not letting go as he nodded. “Excellent!” he exclaimed gently. He leaned in a little, close to your face, too close for a professor talking to his student. “You really are my greatest student.”
You smiled, perhaps too much. You feel too giggly. “I'm…so glad.”
He moved his hand from your elbow to raise a finger, shaking it gently at you. “Remember,” he teased, “at a moment’s notice.”
You nodded definitely. “Of course.”
He offered you a charming smile before stepping out of your space, breaking the spell. He tilted his head toward you. “You may go.” Just as you were lifting your foot, he held out a hand toward you. “And thank you very much.”
With one last nod, you stepped back. “Not a problem, sir.”
You stepped out of his office, closing the door gently behind you. Gently biting your lip, you unsilenced your phone as you left his classroom.
~
The shrill ring of your phone cut through the late night and woke you brutally from your slumber. You gasped as you reluctantly blinked through the dark to direct your eyes to the abusive light emanating from the phone. The clock next to it on the nightstand read far past midnight. You moaned deeply, speaking but only forming actual words toward the middle of your complaint.
“...’f i’s ‘nother sp’m…” You wiped your face and covered your eyes as you answered the phone, not quite awake but too tired to deal with waking up.
“Hullo?”
The voice on the other end woke you up just a little more, not quite clearing the fog in your brain but allowing you to put more effort into sounding a little more awake.
“It's time.”
Time for wh—Oh.
You suddenly remembered Dr. Crane's experiment, the one he wanted to test with you. Your gut clenched and your heart picked up and startled you awake. It was time.
“Oh.”
~
You pressed your finger into the doorbell, checking the address of Dr. Crane's house out of nerves a fifth time and the time for the twentieth. You wrapped your coat tighter around you, the chilly breeze persuaded by the winter air of Gotham so close to Christmas time. They would be letting you out for the break soon…
The door opened, a little crack and a creak to allow you entry.
“Just go along with whatever happens.”
You thought back to his instructions on the phone, vague instructions you briefly considered not trusting. But he was your professor. He had your best interests at heart, surely.
You reached your hand toward the knob, timidly reaching. He wasn't at the door. Should you actually go in?
“Don't waste time asking questions. Everything will be explained when you get there.”
You pushed the door open and walked inside, shucking your coat off as you nervously looked around the house. You shut the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack by the entrance and leaving your shoes next to the ones by the door.
You swallowed thickly as you looked around, stepping further inside. “Uhm…” you cleared your throat. “Dr. Crane? Are you still home?”
You were met with silence as you continued to quietly step through the living room, the air so still that you could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest. You were so nervous, your blood was pumping and you were bordering on scared as you tried to keep your breath level. Your flesh raised with goosebumps. It was too quiet.
You almost didn't want to speak again, afraid to break the silence and disturb something unknown lurking around the corner.
“Dr. Crane?” you called again, suddenly feeling very warm and very frightened. Where was he? “Professor?”
“In here.”
The voice was distant when he spoke, giving you some reprieve from the silence but feeding your anxiety, fueling your fight-or-flight.
“Where?” you wondered aloud, stepping past the archway that led into the hall.
“Just a few steps more…”
Could he see you? Was he taunting you on purpose? Perhaps part of the experiment?
The anxiety curled in your stomach, kept your footsteps slow and your breath shallow and a scream ready in your throat in case you needed it.
You were reluctant to speak. “Sir?” You pressed your palm along the wall of the hall and began to peer around the corner, into a room on the left. Maybe Dr. Crane was waiting there…
A strange, strong mist invaded your senses as you turned the corner. Raring up the scream, you gasped and your eyes stung, resulting in a heavy cough that took a moment to die down. You braced yourself on the wall, holding yourself up as you tried to clear your eyes, clouded by tears from both the coughing and the mist burning your eyes. You watched the mist clear, breathing in desperately for air.
“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Dr. Crane's voice came, then his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you in and guided you into the room. “That's good,” he bid.
He held you steady as you blinked rapidly and steadied your breath. “I took the liberty of testing my hypothesis that it would work faster if the patient is already running on adrenaline.”
You wiped the tears roughly from your eyes. “Professor, what–?”
“Hush,” he cut you off, bringing you to the bed. “Sit here,” he said, lowering you down.
He pulled up a chair, sitting across from you before handing you a handkerchief. You took it greedily and began wiping your face. You sighed deeply into the fabric, holding your head in your hands as you adjusted.
“Okay,” he said, smiling. “Now that's done…the substance you've just inhaled is an aphrodisiac of my own design.”
You stilled entirely, looking up at him tentatively as your eyes widened. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to organize your thoughts. It was an… an—“Aphrodisiac…” you muttered.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Aphrodisiac.”
You were suddenly dizzy, processing his words too slowly as you put together what this meant. An experiment with an aphrodisiac… and you were the “face” of it all?
“The word itself comes from the Greek name ‘Aphrodite’, which—I'm sure you know—is the Greek goddess of Sex.” You looked up at him as he began explaining, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down and dusting off his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he continued, “As far as the function of the substance is concerned, it affects hormone levels and accelerates blood flood, increasing chemicals in your brain like—dopamine, glutamic acid, nitric oxide, oxytocin to enhance sexual arousal.” He sounded like he was reading straight out of a book as he spoke with his hands, illustrating the drug to you to paint pretty pictures for you to apply to what was happening to you, in your own body.
It was getting warm, the physical exertion from the adrenaline, likely. The suspense and anxiety from before, along with the shock of Dr. Crane's mist had thrust you into an adrenaline rush. That was surely all it was.
“It relaxes smooth muscles,” he continued. “Stimulates erections, increases arousal.”
You fought the urge to clench your thighs at the idea of it. He was your psych professor and you were his student, and he was testing aphrodisiacs on you and telling you how it made boners and stiff nipples and fucking arousal.
“Professor,” you muttered.
He stopped you, raising a finger. “Please hold. I'm not finished.” He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Where was I? Aphrodisiacs are commonly found in natural foods or herbs, though the change in sexual desire is usually unnoticed when these substances—like chocolates, most commonly, or oysters and figs and strawberries—are consumed.”
You clenched the handkerchief in your hand, rubbing your palms against your thighs roughly. “Professor Crane.” You felt like your head was beginning to spin.
He sighed at you, seemingly disappointed. “I hope you're interrupting me for a good reason.”
You stared at him straight on, nearly glaring as a thin layer of sweat began to form over your skin. “It's hot,” you huffed.
“Well, that's to be expected,” he shrugged. He looked you up and down, smiling with a gentle chuckle. “How rude of me. How are you feeling?”
You brought the handkerchief to your forehead, breathing uneasily. “Hot.”
“As you've already stated.” He waved his hand dismissively. “What else?”
You didn't want to say: considering the heat was spreading through your body and scouring your nerves with a flush of lust. The last thing you wanted to do was explain that you were horny to your professor.
He tilted his head at your hesitation, noticing the way you turned away, closed yourself off. He raised a brow. “Come on,” he bid. He didn't sound like he was encouraging you, he sounded like he was taunting you. “Don't leave any details. This is an experiment, might I remind you. If you leave anything out, it could hinder the research.”
“Um,” you struggled, your voice trembling a little. You felt like your whole body would soon follow suit. You felt shaky, like you’d fall if you tried to stand. “Uh.” You couldn’t figure out what to say—it was humiliating to say the least, looking at your professor and forcing your eyes to stay on his face, because fuck…you wanted him so bad.
He raised a brow, waiting expectantly, “Well?”
You couldn’t. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “It’s just hot.”
He reached his hand out and pressed the back of his palm to your forehead. The coolness of his skin against the heat of your face was like a salve to a cruel burn. You leaned into him, stifling your moan as best you could as your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt so good.
“Mm,” he hummed, pretending not to notice your weakness as he shifted his hand to your temple. “You’re burning up.” You knew he was taunting you when his hand slipped down to your neck, pressing against your scorching skin and sending goosebumps through your body. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest any time soon.
When he pulled his hand away, you felt like you could die on the spot as the fever-like heat came back immediately after. You tried to remain impartial, shaking your head to gather your thoughts enough to speak.
“Why couldn’t you have just performed the experiment on your own?” you questioned, wiping your forehead roughly to be rid of the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. “I don’t see how an external test subject was necessary.” Remaining as professional as possible seemed like your best course of action. Insanity or not, this was still a test—you were sure of it—and there was no way you would fail a personal test with Professor Crane and risk falling from such high esteem with him.
He reached behind him where his suit jacket lay neatly on the back of his seat. He removed a second handkerchief from an inside pocket with a dramatic whip, taking his glasses off to clean them as he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “If my theory is correct, the test must be performed with another person present. The substance works by increasing adrenaline. It’s quite similar to my fear toxin.”
You shook your head, “Fear toxin–”
“The adrenaline builds and builds,” he continued, cutting you off with little regard for you, as he glanced through the lenses, “increases the heart rate so much that—if left unresolved—the subject would experience a heart rate so high…” He finished polishing them off before replacing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and directing his analytical gaze toward you once more. With a lurking smile full of sadistic amusement, he spoke in a low voice, “...your little heart would burst in your chest.”
The anxiety curled in your chest until it began its fast evolution to fear. All these emotions mixing within you wasn’t good for your health—and, apparently, neither was this toxin he had infected you with. “...What?” you said. It was the only thing you could manage to say.
He shrugged, tilting his head with a slight roll of his eyes. “Well,” he began to correct himself, “not literally, of course. It’s highly improbable. But your heart would just…stop.” His eyes seemed to darken as he explained it to you, staring too deeply into your own anxious gaze as he seemed to enjoy every minute of this. With a breath, he began again. “And while my toxin has an antidote, there is only one way to reverse the effects of this aphrodisiac.”
You swallowed thickly. “Which is?”
He smirked, though he tried to hide it. “Sexual gratification.”
If you weren’t burning up, your blood would run cold…and then you’d run just as hot as you were running now. Your head was definitely spinning now, images of forbidden desires—which you had pushed down, down to the depths of your mind—flooding to the surface. So many fantasies, so many urges, being unlocked once more as you thought about…reversing the effects.
But, for the millionth time,  he was your professor. It didn’t matter how many times you’d fantasized about him having you on your knees, his hands in your hair, his lips all over your body…it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen.
You tried not to clear your throat. It would make you more guilty than you already were. “W-well–” Damn it, you cringed. “–even if that’s true…gratification can be…achieved through…”
He raised a brow, happy to mock you. “Through?”
You took in a steadying breath, looking down at your legs to avoid looking up at him. Your skin was burning, your nerves were tingling with an increasing desire “Through self-pleasure. Masturbation. Couldn’t it?” You were already this far, there was no use in being shy.
But even then…
He tilted his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “You see, once it has been ingested in any form, only another person's hormones can slow the process—which is why you’re still so in control right now–” you didn’t feel in control, “–but even that isn’t enough. In males, sexual gratification can only be achieved by the release of semen when mixed with a woman’s arousal. Likewise, for a female subject, gratification can only be met through insemination.”
He said it so quickly, so nonchalantly. You had no time to process as you blinked rapidly. “Insem–”
“Therefore, a partner is necessary for the experiment, and only a partner of the opposite sex is truly effective, so…I suppose that’s a loss for the homosexuals, hm?” He shrugged, amused by his own joke.
Pain spasmed in your stomach, a sharp stab in your gut and a stinging sensitivity to everything your skin came in contact with. “Fuck,” you sighed, folding over slightly just as a growing migraine became present enough to matter.
He sighed. “Language, please.”
You rubbed your palms harshly against your eyes, forcing your fingertips against your temple in a useless attempt to ease the pain roaring in your head, sacrificing the stabbing in your gut. “It hurts.” It took everything not to sob.
He turned his head. “What kind of pain?”
“All of the above,” you said impatiently, your voice breaking. “It hurts.”
He hummed and leaned forward. “And where does it hurt the most?” He gestured to your general body. “Or is it just about the same everywhere?”
“It's…” you hesitated, “everywhere.”
Crane tilted his head, looking at you with a glow of disappointment. He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them to the side and directing his attention entirely on you.
“Now, my dear,” you shuddered at the name, “This doesn't work if you aren't being completely and entirely honest with me. I am quite content to sit here and watch you succumb to my little toxin.” A wash of shock overtook you, your palpitating conflicted between beating too fast and stopping all together.
He continued, a taunting grin curving his lips as he gave you his cold stare. “Without me to help you,” he shrugged, “you have no way of reversing the effects. I'll say you came down with a sudden fever, one you just couldn't fight.”
The hair along your arms stood tall. He couldn't be serious, it was a joke… But when have you known Jonathan Crane to joke?
“But…” you fumbled, trying to decide what to say, “But I've been perfectly healthy. Why would people believe you?”
He tilted his head, looking at you like you were just the cutest, dumbest little thing. “This is Gotham, sweetheart.” He shrugged dismissively. “People die every day, and no one fucking cares.”
Breathing heavily, you put a hand over your stomach and let out a pained moan. You thought to yourself, over his words. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes.
“Cramps.”
He raised a brow questioningly. “Hm?”
“The pain,” you stated. “Stomach cramps, tender nipples and…and clitoris. Even the fabric of my clothes is too much. It hurts.” You ignored the heat in your face. It didn't matter now—the insecurity, the awkwardness. It was strictly scientific. Of course, it was.
“Very good,” he grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Tell me more.”
“Tunnel vision, dizziness, migraine, short breath. It's like… it's almost like a panic attack.”
“Is that all?”
“It's really hot,” you huffed, another pained moan escaping through your unsteady breaths. “I'm really hot.” It didn't matter. “Fuck, professor, I need you.”
“What's that?” The fucker was getting off on teasing you like this, mocking you like it was his only pleasure in life.
“I need you,” you urged, trying not to sound as whiny as you feel.
“Is that so?” he raised a brow, smirking. “Have you told me everything then?”
“Yes, everything. Please.”
“Are you certain?” he pushed.
You felt the wet on your cheek and realized your need and the pain had reached your eyes, the tears welling along your waterline and dropping down in one streak down your face. “Please, I'll do anything!”
He paused slightly. “What's that?”
You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them into your lap. There was only one way to ease the pain, the heat, the desire. And you were set on it.
“I'll do anything! Just please, fuck me. Please,” you gasped, pushing through the pounding in your head and the fire in your core.
“Well,” he sighed, pulling his hand from your grasp to check his watch. He tsked to himself, thinking before he hummed. “I suppose I can do that.”
You could have cried—you were crying. “Thank you,” you sighed. “Thank you.”
“But,” he pointed a finger at your face, as though you were a dog being disciplined, “you must do as I say.”
You nodded urgently. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” You shuddered at his words, the praise washing over you like a wave swallowing you whole as you lay on the sandy shore of a beach.
He snapped at you, indefinitely grabbing your attention as he pointed to the space in front of him. You stood from the bed in a moment, your weak legs barely holding you up.
His hands landed on your waist, and you nearly melted at the contact. He turned you around in his hands, looking you up and down with an appreciative moan. “Let's see what we're working with,” he said. “Strip.” The order was plain and simple.
You did as you were told, trying not to be shy about it. He didn't care about shyness, and it didn't matter anyway.
You began peeling your clothes off, moving faster with each inch of skin revealed. Once you were bare in front of him, you fought the overwhelming urge to cover yourself. He wanted to see you, to see what you had to offer.
He hummed to himself, snapping again. “On your knees.” Again, you did as you were told.
Moving to your knees, he took your face in his large hands. You melted against him, your eyes fluttering shut as a deep moan escaped you. His hands felt so cool in comparison to your burning skin. If you weren't so desperate for more of what he had to offer, you would be perfectly content with sitting here and having him hold you like this.
When his hands lightly smacked your cheeks, your eyes snapped open as you brought yourself out of the sticky feeling of the subtle pleasure. “Keep your eyes open. And open your mouth.”
You parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb between them and pried your mouth open wide. He set his thumb on your tongue, pulling it over your bottom set of teeth and pushing his thumb farther into your mouth. Your breaths blew over his skin as he felt the softness of your cheeks, your tongue.
He surprised you when his hand was suddenly between your thighs, his fingers stroking through your folds as you gasped. “Jesus, you're fucking dripping.” He ran his fingers along your lower lips and the insides of your thighs where the arousal was smothered halfway down your thighs.
You whimpered and whined when he shoved his middle and ring fingers inside of you without warning, delving them into your hot, dripping, tight pussy. You tried not to squirm at the way his fingers wiggled inside you.
“Yes,” he sighed. “This'll do nicely.”
He pulled them out of you, shoving those same fingers between your lips to make you taste your arousal. “Suck,” he commanded. You obeyed.
You suckled around his fingers and felt another rush of molten arousal wash through you at the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and primal. You needed him.
“Strip me,” he said, pulling his hand away. From your knees, you unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, letting your hands press against the expanse of his chest and soothe you the slightest bit. You unbuckled his best and shoved his pants down his legs, removed it from his body like undoing ropes tying him to a chair.
You stared at his briefs, his half-hard erection tenting them as he enjoyed the sight of your mindless struggling. He placed a hand in your hair, gripping a fistful and holding you securely. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”
You pulled his boxers down without hesitation and only faltered as you saw him for the first time. This was absurd. You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—staring at your professor’s erection, long and hard and flushed with his own lust for your body, about to wrap your lips around it.
You gripped him in your hand and he stifled a grunt at the feeling of your insistence. You stroked him a few times before sticking your tongue out and licking a long strip up the underside of his cock, tasting his precum beading at the tip and immediately becoming addicted to the taste. Whether it was him or just his toxin, the taste of him was mesmerizing, and you would do anything for more.
You wrapped your lips around him, suckling around the tip and taking him deeper. He let his head fall back just a bit, still watching you as his thighs clenched and his hair gripped your hair tighter. He did not guide you or push you down, he didn't think he needed to. You surprised him as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking him farther and farther down with each trip back and forth until he was filling your throat with his length and making you gag.
He grunted as you suckled some more. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for any kind of pressure as your clit pulsed and your walls fluttered. You ran a hand down your body, dipping between your thighs to try and ease some of the tension. You pressed down hard on your clit one time, a moan coming from your throat and shivering through his spine.
He pulled you by your hair off of his cock. “Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?” You shook your head pathetically. “Then why are you doing it?”
You couldn't win this, you knew that. Using your desperation as regret, you frowned and whispered, “Sorry, sir.”
He loosened his grip enough to let you get back to work, still holding onto you as he leaned back again. Your lips found his cock once more, addicted and able to ignore the burn for now, a short escape from the pain.
You swirled your tongue around him, suckling as you went along. Crane stared at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each swallow around his tip. Sticky white precum continued to seep from his slit and onto your tongue. You were drunk on the taste of him, taking him as best you could.
Crane looked like a dream, his head tilted back and his lips parted as you brought him closer and closer to a great release. Both his hands were tangled in your hair by now, holding on to you and his remaining control.
He was right about the hormones. Being this close to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the scent of his skin swirling around your head, was easing the searing desperation.
You felt him twitching on your tongue and suckled around him a little more. He was close, you could feel it. You didn't know if it was his toxin or not, but the idea of him spilling all over your tongue drove you crazy with lust.
He began to tense and groaned. “And that's enough of that,” he huffed, pulling you off of him by your hair and keeping you back, even through your attempts at licking the precum spilling from his tip.
“My, my,” he breathed. “Such a desperate little thing.”
You caught your breath as you spoke, your lips swollen and your eyes hooded as you did. “I need you,” you begged, gripping his thighs tight.
“Well,” he stood, snapping and gesturing for you to stand as well—you obeyed. “You'll have to be patient, sweetheart. I'm not through with my tests yet.” You whined. “Lay down.”
You did as told once again. He looked over your body, running a finger down the center of you, from your collarbone to your pelvis. You shuddered and whimpered but said nothing.
“I don't have any cuffs in here, so a tie will have to work.” He found his jacket draped along the back of his chair and pulled the tie neatly tucked inside of it out.
You held your breath as he reached for your hands, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. He put them around the bars of the headboard and, with more skill than you expected, tied them together to keep you bound there.
He gave a content sigh at the sight of you, smiling to himself. His eyes found yours as his fingertips grazed your side “Now, you can be as loud as you want. No need to hold back. We're all alone in here.”
He stood over you as his palm smoothed along your skin, reaching further down until he found your mound, slick and hot and waiting for something to slip inside it.
Your breath quickened in anticipation, waiting for him to make his move as his fingers played with your skin. Holding eye contact, he slipped his finger inside of you, parting your folds and burying itself in deep.
Your head lolled back as you moaned, the sound sticky with lust. He sank in deep, inch by torturous inch. You held your breath in your, feeling each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, inside.
A second finger joined the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curled inside you. You moaned and found yourself grinding your hips into his palm. You needed more, more of him, the bliss of his fingers spread through your body to ease the fire and feed it all at the same time.
“Professor,” you whimpered. “More, please.”
“Hm?” he taunted. “That's not enough for you? You need more?”
“Yes, please,” you gasped.
You clenched around his fingers, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. He curled them against a sweet spot deep within your dripping cunt, exploring your body and becoming familiar with each little nook and cranny. Your back arched and your moans were loud in the space of the bedroom. You had never felt so good before, just by his hands alone.
When his speed increased, you thought you would cry. The dizziness was eased by his pleasure, the headache had waned enough for you to see, and the pain in your stomach had simmered to a dull ache. But his fingers stuffed inside only seemed to heighten the heavy pulse in her veins.
You pulled at the tie wrapped around your wrists as you whined. “Professor, please,” you huffed. “I can't take it. I—fuck—needa cum.”
Letting out what seemed to be a disinterested sigh, he shrugged. “Since you want it so bad…” His thumb pressed against your clit and your back arched slightly at the contact.
You cursed breathily, seeing stars as the pleasure grew and grew and grew at the expertise of his hand. You thought you were going to explode, reaching your peak far too quickly as a knot began to build in your stomach. You tensed, clenching around his fingers as he spread them and curled them and pumped them in and out of you.
“Fuck, can I cum?” you moaned. “Please, professor, I need it so bad.”
He didn’t answer you, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles as he felt you flutter around his fingers, he listened to your unsteady breath and felt your trembling thighs. You could feel yourself reaching that point, on the verge of finding that bliss…
You whimpered meekly when he suddenly stopped. Watching you with a dark smile, he chuckled as you squirmed and tried to move your hips against his hand. A tear slipped down the side of your face as the pain returned, sharper this time and spreading through your body like you’d been shocked.
“Dr. Crane, please,” you cried, squirming like a worm on a hook.
He laughed at you, looking your body up and down as he disregarded your need and spoke. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Another tear joined the first. “Please, I can’t.”
He tutted, shaking his head. “Ah-ah. Answer my question or I’ll stop completely.”
“No!” you exclaimed. “Please, it hurts. So bad, everything hurts.”
He nodded, “Good girl.” He rewarded you with the movement of his hand once more, filling you back up with his fingers and thrusting them into you.
You were blinded by the pleasure and continued to ride it out, unknowingly that he was beginning a cycle. He would have you crying, breaking down in tears and so desperate to cum all over his hand, only to rob you of such pleasure every time you got close to tasting it. And it hurt. All of it hurt, like you were being burned alive. The imaginary flames licked at your flesh and threatened to sear it off your bones.
You didn’t know how many times he’d done this cruel act upon you, how long you’d been laying there with your legs spread open wide and his fingers shoved inside of you, too caught up in the pain and the ecstasy of it all. “C-Crane,” you muttered, your lips and your tongue lazy with dissatisfaction. “Please.”
You could tell how fun this experiment was for him, and not even in just the sadistic way. He watched you closely, his eyes hooded and dark and his cheeks pink. His cock was still hard, maybe harder still in a painful way that your useless sounds helped him to ignore.
He hummed deeply, considering another dance with desperation. But he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, his thumb, which had been lazily rubbing too-slow circles on your clit, picking up once again.
And you were so scared it was a trick, that he would pull away and leave you to sob again at the loss of stimulation. The knot built, the dam overflowed, and as you reached your breaking point, you gasped when it all came loose. Your back arched, and you went blind as the pleasure crashed down on you like nothing you’d ever felt.
You cried out his name—or some garbled version of his name that came with not being in touch with your own body. You moaned, breathing too fast and dizzying yourself with your harsh breaths as you did. Crane smiled as he watched you, coaxing you through it as he noted just how good this orgasm must have felt for you.
“Look at you go,” he smiled, still rubbing your clit as he watched the last spasms of pleasure shoot through you. You were so pretty like this, writhing in bed as you came on his hand for the first time, whimpering and whining like a dog.
He pulled his hand from you, darting his tongue to lick the bottom lip of his wolfish grin.
As you began to settle, you let in a deep breath to fill your lungs, laying back lazily as you were offered a moment of stillness. All the pain from before was gone, the thumping in your heart calmed to a slightly quickened ut otherwise rhythmic beat. You could breathe.
Crane was staring at his watch, looking between you and it as he seemed to time something. You paid him little mind, soaking up the calm for as long as you had it.
It was all too soon that the pain began to slip back in, first as a distant sting in your head, then as the dull ache in your stomach. As your breath sped again at the slowly increasing ache, so too did your heart once more. Then the sensitivity of your skin, the burn of your goosebumps rubbing against the sheets or clashing cruelty with the air.
Unable to take so much, you began to cry. “Professor,” you spoke shakily. “Fuck, it hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. I can't—I can't, I can't.”
“Two minutes and seventeen seconds,” he stamped. “It took two minutes for the aphrodisiac to kick in again after the first orgasm has been reached.”
He stared at you, rubbing his bottom lip and sighing with a distant smile. “Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he mumbled. “To make you cum over and over and over again until you're,” he sighed longingly, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching with an urge he tried to conceal, “sobbing, trembling in my hands, begging me to stop.”
You shuddered, wanting it so badly but also dreading the opposite of this torture, where you would never stop shaking, never be able to calm as he pulled an orgasm after you one right after the other.
He shook himself out of his daydream. “But, I'm not sure how long you've got. That's an experiment for another day.”
You wanted to say something, but you were at your point in desperation where words were harder and harder to form unless the adrenaline really kicked in.
He positioned himself on the bed, his hand smoothing over your sides. “I bet you need me now, don't you?” Whining pathetically and not caring anymore about sounding decent, you nodded. “Yes, you do. You need me to fuck you, hhh? Take you nice and rough from behind. You need me to fuck you nice and deep, little slut?”
You nodded again, crying, “Please.”
He stood on his knees in front of you, taking your body in his hands and flipping you around, not caring for a moment that you were still tied to the bed frame with your arms now crossed.
He pulled you up on your knees and put your ass on display for him. His hands slapped down on your ass, rubbing harshly on the skin as you whined.
“Be a good girl and beg me to fuck you, sweetheart,” he breathed.
Had you not begged enough? You couldn't count the amount of times you'd told him “Please, professor, please,” and been denied for the sake of his sadism?
Still, you were desperate and you could care less at the moment about his urge to humiliate you. So you did beg, your pounding heart squeezing tears out of your eyes.
“Please, Crane,” you sobbed. “Please, I need you so fucking bad. It hurts, please.”
You were about to continue pouring your heart out when he cut you off. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Calm down. It's not that serious.”
He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spread your folds for him. In one push, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your tight pussy. He groaned roughly as you clenched around his cock and moaned.
“So fucking tight,” he sighed. “You've been needing this, haven't you?”
You moaned deep in your throat, melting at the feeling of him buried so deep. He chuckled, high off the sight of you so weak. He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that burned at your nerves until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. You lost your breath, your lungs squeezed tight at the pleasure.
He grunted, doing it again and again and again as he just kept holding you tighter, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The smack of his hips against your ass was loud and followed in quick succession as he gave you no time between each thrust to recover.
You felt like your brain had melted, reduced to. a pile of mush in your head as you let yourself be devoured by the pure ecstasy of each thrust staving off the pain of the toxin burning you out.
You gripped the sheets, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together as he split you open on his cock.
Crane was hardly keeping it together himself, gripping your waist as he fucked into you from behind. His hair had fallen over his eyes, which were dark and crazed. He had you in his clutches—you, his prey and he, your predator, his teeth and claws in your flesh and bone.
“Is this everything you imagined?” he huffed, bringing a hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up.
You clenched tighter around him and felt your limbs going weak—if he hadn't been holding you up, you would have fallen against the bed again.
“W-What?” you gasped, small and pathetic.
He laughed darkly. “You think I didn't know? What, you thought I couldn't see the way you stared at me during my lectures? You thought I didn't see your glances at my crotch, wondering how big my cock was? Huh? How good it would feel if I fucked you?”
You just kept moaning, unable to hold in your pleasures sobs. He fucked you a little harder, pulling more and more out of you as he did. “Why do you think I chose you, huh?” he taunted, laughing again. “You were perfect for the role. My cock hungry student who would do anything to impress me. Fuck, you were practically begging to be the subject of this experiment.”
It was hard to listen to him when you could barely focus on your own pleasure. Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating you in slick. He just kept fucking you, drunk on the pleasure.
“N-Need,” you stuttered, trying to form the words as your tongue was not your own. “Mm-fuck, needa cum.”
He didn't say anything this time as he pressed his finger to your clit. You went limb, letting yourself fall onto the bed as you whined pathetically.
“Look at you,” he smiled, his head tilted back as he relished in the squeeze of your cunt. “My little fucking whore. Does it feel good?” He laughed again, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Are you gonna cum on my cock like a pathetic slut? Hm?”
To answer his question, you did. You let out a choked cry when you came, your eyes rolling back as you went blind with the pleasure that crashed down on you. Your whole body shattered, and your thighs shook at the pleasure.
“Oh, fuck,” he huffed as you began tighter, your pussy fluttering around him and only bringing him closer to his own longed-for release. “That's a good fucking girl.”
Your head was filled with white-noise as you floated in that space between orgasms, where your whole body was numb to everything else going on. As he kept fucking you, it didn't last long. You came to and found yourself thrown into another dance of lust.
You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave to you. “You like that? You like being ruined by me? Hm?” he breathed, still rubbing your clit, even as you squirm.
You didn't respond, overcome by whining moans. But that was more amusing. “I know you do,” he said. “You liked being fucked dumb, don't you?”
His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher. His finger on your clit continued to build you up, higher and higher.
“Are you gonna cum again?” he asked, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he kept fucking into you. “Yeah? You're squeezing my cock like you are.”
You managed to nod your head and nothing more, the knot building again in your stomach getting so tight, so close to another blinding release. You braced for it as it grew closer.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, too,” he breathed. “Gonna cum—so deep inside you. You'll be dripping with me, sweetheart.”
You mewled, closer and closer to–
A loud cry tore from your throat as you came again, blinded and devoured and reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess as the pleasure shook through your body like a rattle.
Unable to hold himself in anymore, he moaned roughly as he spilled so deep inside of you. He gripped you roughly, pulling you back against his cock as he buried himself deep, grinding into you as he fucked his cum inside so you were stuffed with it.
“Fuck, I love this tight little cunt,” he huffed. “Perfect for me.” Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tight as you squelched and gushed around him.
You lay limp against the sheets as the blood roared in your ears. After a moment, when he'd caught his breath and came down from his high, he pulled out of you and let you fall against the bed.
He breathed, letting out a deep sigh. He looked down at you, your spent body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He picked up your leg, pulling it apart to see your pussy, stuffed and leaking his cum.
He could have cum again at the mere sight of you, your messiness, your exhaustion. He dropped your leg and sat next to your limp body.
“Now,” he said, another breath leaving his lungs. “How do you feel?”
You just lay there, letting out a tiny moan after a while as your only response as you tried to recover. All the pain had disappeared, and all that was left was the heaviness in your limbs and the sore muscles to come.
He hummed a laugh. “I bet.” He reached for his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose once more and adjusting them.
He stood, walking somewhere in the room as your eyes followed him. When he picked up a camera hidden in the corner capturing everything that just happened, you couldn't do anything but think about how you wanted to watch it back and see just how much he'd wrecked your body.
He stopped the recording, setting the camera down with a smile. He looked at you again, kneeling in front of the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. “So many things for us to do, so many experiments to run. And now I've got you,” he chuckled, “my own personal lab rat.”
You watched him lazily, the exhaustion pulling at your system. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, moving as much as you could as your lips melded together. It breathed life into you, more life than it should have.
He pulled away all too soon, standing up and turning away from you as he left the room. You laid there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the night. His own personal lab rat.
You smiled.
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strwbrythoughts · 4 months
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time's up | dr. veritas ratio
The doctor - also known as your husband - has come to refine your problem-solving skills, particularly in mathematics.
A/N: This man is insufferable but I simp because smart + muscles = hot!!! Also can you see me projecting onto this and wdym i don't like triangles, ngl i accidentally switched to first person pov at the ending 💀 this is why i need to find time to write in my busy busy schedule
Divider by @/osqrie
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"You have 15 minutes to solve these questions. You may begin."
The soft click of the digital stopwatch in his right hand sounded louder than ever to your ears. Your eyes went from his soft, smiling face - which in itself, was a rarity - towards the questions printed on the single sheet of white, A4-sized paper on your desk. They were all mathematics equations. Every single one was an integration-related question.
You always thought that you could escape the topics you didn't like after finishing your studies in the undergraduate level. Life had been pretty smooth-sailing after graduation; you opened a cute and cozy bakery, you married a genius, lived in a comfortable home, have and maintain a loving relationship...but this. This was the least of what you would expect. Being tutored and tested on the one subject you refused to take back in university.
Or perhaps it was your mistake when you told him your weak points in the academic aspect of yourself. That was a side effect of marrying a genius, you supposed...or a 'Mundanite' as he would use to refer to himself.
But you couldn't think of that now. You had a test to complete, and you didn't want to receive his punishment for not being able to do so within the given timeframe. His eyes could be felt on you, as if burning into your body and directly gazing at the very essence of your soul. The rise in your heartbeat and downturned gaze highlighted how nervous you felt to answer this paper.
After taking a deep breath to clear your head, you observed the questions carefully. There were 3 questions, and all of them were pretty easy to solve (or at least, that was what the instructions said). The first two questions were fine; only including polynomials and exponents respectively. As you got to the third question though...you couldn't say it was 'fine'.
It included one of your most disliked topics...trigonometry.
Granted, the trigonometry was pretty simple, but you never seemed to be able to wrap your head around how so many formulas could be derived from them. When Veritas explained it to you in one of your tutoring sessions, you asked for more breaks than usual since you had put a barrier in your mind; 'I will never understand this'; which in turn, made the topic seemed harder than it actually was.
The soft 'ding!' of the bell on my desk reminded you that you had five minutes left for this last question. You gulped, hoping your nervousness would be swallowed away as well. His eyes were glued to the back of your head; not that you dared to look behind my shoulder at the moment.
Every second counts after all, even if you had no clue what steps you should take to solve the problem on the paper.
Your brain seemed to malfunction and your memorisation skills failed you right this moment. You didn't remember the basic formulas, and you didn't know how to derive them from the triangles either. With no viable options left, you decided to unleash your expertise; cooking up your own theories.
'Ah, he's definitely punishing me for this...' was the only thought floating in your brain. Autopilot mode was switched on, and your hand glided across the paper, writing down whatever nonsense that seemed to be related to trigonometry, regardless whether they were correct or not.
The digital stopwatch in Veritas' hand had reached its last minute; the fifteenth minute. "Time's up," his voice bounced off the white walls right into your ears. "Put down your pen and stop writing."
Although reluctant, you did not wish for a heavier punishment. His words were followed by the sound of the pen being put onto the wooden desk. Within seconds, he was stood right next to your desk, using his index finger and thumb to pick up the piece of paper.
His eyes scanned my answers, going from left to right as he inspected each line of working. There was a faint smile on his lips...until it was gone.
Gulp.
He had definitely seen the absolute mess you made on the last question.
A slam onto the wooden desk; you swore you heard the wood crack a little bit. "Did I not teach you this last question?" You could barely reply. His tone was dripping with condescension, but you didn't take offence from it. Both you and him knew he had the right intentions, but his ways wouldn't be able to satisfy everyone.
"You did! I...I just didn't like it."
Veritas let out a 'tsk' thrice, seeming almost animated as he did so. "You do know what you have to do now, right? So come on, what are you waiting for? Is time not ticking?" He took a seat on his chair, eyes looking straight into mine.
You sighed, preparing your facial muscles...as you climbed into his lap. Ah yes, the 'one hundred kisses or you're not leaving this room' punishment. A classic, really. Your lips peppered his face, landing on each part like the first snow of winter; gentle and heartwarming.
"Lunchtime is nearing, so you better carry out your responsibility quickly and dutifully, dear. You'd hate to have lunch at 4 PM again, hm?"
Ah, crap! He was right! Better get to work now!
Thank you for reading!
227 notes · View notes
chris-prank · 21 days
Note
I need the reaction of the baes (Vincent, Esteban and Atlas) to reader thirsting loudly for strangers online. Like full on down bad simping.
I love these kinds of ask about multiple of my ocs. This way they are all compiled in one post 😆 so thank you mellsfern! 
Now jealousy timeeeee
CW: Possessive behavior, manipulative behavior and mention/use of a syringe (in Vincent’s part) 
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
Vincent has been monitoring your online activities for a while now. It was his favorite thing to do after a long day of working on new inventions for Fatalité, being able to sit comfortably in front of his computer and check what you were up to.  But lately… you’ve been checking one person’s account a bit too much on Slowgram. You liked their post the second they were up, why couldn’t you be dedicated like that with him instead!? What made his blood boil the most, was the private conversation you were having with your friend about this influencer. Paragraph after Paragraph were filled with praises, words of adoration and lewd comments on what you wanted to do to them. At first he thought it was just a passing infatuation, but he couldn't keep watching you lust over someone else, it made him see red. Dr. Seraph didn’t even have to hack into that influencer's computer to find their address, this idiot had it plastered all over their socials. At this point, they were just asking for it! At the dead of night, he easily entered their house. Hovering over the sleeping form, his face showed a scarily cold expression.  
“I was lacking a test subject for my latest invention.” With precision, he plunged a syringe in the person's neck, “I wonder if they'll still think you're attractive after I’m done with you.” 
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Esteban snatched the phone from your grasp. One minute you were alone in the living room, liking every post of a guy online and the next you were empty handed. Unbeknownst to you, he was actually stalking your account before all this and happened to see your liked posts. 
“What’s your deal?!” You jumped out of the couch, trying to take your property back. 
“What’s my deal? What about yours Mmm?!” He pouted, raising the phone out of your reach, “You have a guy with the literal body of a Greek god at your disposition and you're gawking at this?” 
He shook one picture in your face before retrieving it quickly. “Can you even tell that he is photoshopped? I don't need that cheap trick to look appealing.”
He couldn’t let you thirst over this loser and act like nothing was wrong. You shouldn’t need to feel the urge to simp over anyone else! All you need is him, him! That’s why he didn’t have a choice, Esteban had to have your device altered so you could never see that person's face again on any app. Without saying a word he headed towards the front door. 
“Hey! Give me my phone back!” 
“Don’t worry, I’m buying you a better one with some needed modifications.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Atlas stared at the picture that you were showing to him on your phone. He already knew your feelings towards this influencer. Having connected to your social media without your consent, he had seen that you were commenting on this person's post a bit too often for his liking. Still, he acted oblivious when you started ranting about them. 
“Aren’t they just so perfect!? Like they are so fine I caaaaan't!” You groaned and contracted your other hand as if you were a predator closing in on its prey. 
He really couldn’t understand what you liked about them that he didn’t have. He could at least console himself with the fact that this person unobtainable, that they would never be a part of your life, unlike him. But still, he hated knowing that you had eyes for someone else to this extent. 
Atlas leaned down, looking at you through his long and pale lashes. “I can be anything you want me to be, you know. I can change my hair color to match theirs or even my personality if that’s what you want.” Then, the android slowly lowered your phone down by gently taking hold of your wrist, “So no need to think about them any longer.” 
・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。..。.:*・
I love showing Vincent’s murderous and sadistic side, especially when it’s related to his darling. Also possessive Atlas is just a cutie pattotie.
111 notes · View notes
the-fiction-witch · 11 months
Text
Hysteria
Tumblr media
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating Smut
I stood kicking and punching my wooden door using every exploitive I know, 
"Father! This is ridiculous!" 
"You're staying in there y/n until the doctor gets here, this has gotten way out of hand"
"You called the doctor!" I yelled kicking the door again 
"See this is exactly why I called him, this is so out of hand y/n you're an emotional madhouse"
"Maybe I wouldn't be if you stopped treating me like a damn infant!"
"Ohh thank goodness your here Dr Dawkins" 
"Y-you called the surgeon!" I yelled
"I'm awfully sorry I know this isn't your area of expertise, but with the other doctor away I really didn't want to wait" 
"Absolutely, it's no problem Mr Y/L/n I'm sure I can do my best to help. Where is she then?"
"Locked in her room"
"I see"
"You keep that bloody butcher away from me!" I yelled 
The door opened and in came Dr Dawkins and my father in tow 
"Please sit down Miss Y/l/n"
"Fine" I pouted sitting on my bed 
"what seems to be the issue?"
Before I could even open my mouth my father spoke up
"Ohh she's been an utterly unruly doctor, shouting and screaming at me, sneaking out alone, causing all sorts of havoc."
"I see... have you been feeling any discomfort?" He asked me 
"other than being treated like a child and being locked in my room"
"Understandable" He nods checking me over a little doing all the usual tests
"I've been reading up on the symptoms I fear it might be... female hysteria" My father whispered almost afraid to say the very word
"Father!" I snapped "I do not have Hysteria!"
"Let the doctor be the judge of that y/n"
"He's not a doctor! He's a bloody butcher!"
"Do you mind giving me some time to examine the patient alone"
"Of course Doctor" 
My father quickly left and I just sat even more annoyed as he shut my bedroom door and continued doing little checks 
"I get the feeling, you don't particularly like me"
"I don't like doctors. nothing against you personally" 
"That's good then, I was worried I'd upset you" He smiled 
"No, I just don't like doctors"
"Any reason why?"
"Not so long ago doctors like you were throwing leaches around and saying girls should keep their legs shut so demons don't possess them through their vaginas. No Offence but I think most doctors are crackpots" 
"To be fair, most of us are" He chuckled "Miss Y/l/n. I'm a surgeon I chop limbs off for a living I'm not surprised people think I'm a crackpot"
"At least your honest about it, You don't really think there's anything wrong with me do you?"
"Well I have to bill your father for something, and he has a point about hysteria." 
"I don't have hysteria" 
"Do you even know what hysteria is?" 
"It's when girls are so emotional"
"No it's a bundle of anxiety and other such troubles that can really cause issues if not dealt with, people just like to yell hysteria because it sounds scary" he explained "Have you been having any headaches? issues sleeping?"
"A little actually"
"See, but it fine very easily fixed up," He says "Will you lie down for me?"
"Alright, but if you pull out a saw I'm kicking you in the crotch" I warn moving to lie on my bed 
"No saw, you just need a little massage that's all" he reassured 
"That does sound nice" I smiled 
"You ready?"
"I guess"
"Good, any discomfort let me know" he smiled setting his left hand on my stomach firmly but not pushing more settled there but firm enough to not move "knees up"
"Are you sure?" 
"Trust me"
"Alright..." I nervously did as he asked putting my knees up and setting my feet on my bed 
"Perfect, now just relax for me" he reassured his right hand touching my ankle and moving up my leg towards my
"Hey!" I said sitting up "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 
"It's a normal part of the procedure just stay relaxed okay" He reassured 
"I'm watching you Dr Dawkins" I glared
"I know, you're watching me" he laughed as his hand moved up and softly stroked the lips of my pussy immediately I gasped and glared at him but he merely continued I did my best to just stare up at the ceiling unsure how to feel exactly not being helped by the fact even looking at the ceiling I still saw him in my view loomed over me, as he slipped a finger inside of me it felt so nice his slender strong fingers moving to rub and push gently massaging me from the inside "Everything alright?" 
"Uhh yeah" I nodded sheepishly 
"Good, you have a lot of pressure built up" He says 
"I do?" 
"Yeah I'm gonna have to be a little more aggressive let me know if it's too much okay?" He says his massaging and rubbing now became much harder I did my best to bite my lip and not react to the feeling building between my legs the likes of which I had only really felt in small doses myself now feeling it building without hesitation or my own control, 
"It's fine" I gulped 
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah" I nodded
"It'll all be okay once we get this sorted," He says getting faster even slipping in another finger working them in tandem to send bubbles of pleasure through me by now I was really struggling almost drawing blood from my lip trying not to gasp too much or reveal to him just how much it was making me feel giggly. "Just a little more..." He says his fingers getting more intense 
I gripped my sheets in a death-like grip, my vision flooding with bubbles, my whole body shook, uncontrollably I squealed and even squirted on his hand and the bed as waves of pleasure washed from my curled toes to the very tips of my fingers
"There we go, perfect." he smiled taking his hand away and cleaning it off "That should clean up any potential hysteria but the key is preventative measures and up-to-date treatment" He explained 
"Uhhh okay" I gasped sitting up a little 
"Preventative, gets some sleep. Stay off the sugary treats. and maybe have a day where you loosen your corset a little"
"Okay" I nodded 
"And as far as treatment goes, weekly appointments should curve the hysteria." 
"Weekly?" 
"Yes weekly, I'll handle it till we know when the other doctor is coming back that alright?"
"Yeah that uhh that's fine, so I'll be seeing you every week?" 
"Every week, Pop into my office one day next week so long as that's okay with you?"
"That's fine Dr Dawkins" I blushed "I'll be happy to is uhh Thursday alright" I giggled 
"Thursday is perfect for me," 
"Good," I smiled nuzzling into his neck a little 
"uhh? You wanna get down?"
"Okay" I smiled 
"Alright, here we go" He smiled picking me up and helping me off the bed given my legs were utterly jelly "Now, I'll see you Thursday and I need to let your father know what we've done today"
"Ohh Uhh maybe don't tell my father" I blushed
"I have to bill him for something? Don't worry I'll keep your privacy" he reassured before taking his things "Good evening Miss Y/l/n"
"Good evening Dr Dawkins" I giggled before he left my room and I collapsed back on my bed "Whoa-" 
I smiled climbing into my hot steamy bathtub and letting it relax my body, but I didn't want to waste time grabbing my soap and scrubbing my skin within an inch of its life being a tad more aggressive than I likely needed to be but I wanted to make sure I was lovely and clean. I slowly climbed out and got dry doing my hair in a sweet beautiful style, getting into one of my prettiest day dresses and heading out.
I smiled as I waited patiently doing my best not to bite my lip or seem too excited.
"Ahh there you are Miss y/l/n" The doctor smiled as he came from his office cleaning his hands on a dirty rag "I was wondering when I'd see you" He chuckled "Shall we then?"
"Absolutely Dr Dawkins" I giggled happily following him into the office
"Here we are, up you go," he said tapping the table
"Yes doctor" I smiled climbing up onto the table
"Ohh before I forget," he said grabbing a pillow from his own office chair and giving it a plump before setting it on the table and tapping it invitingly
"Aww How kind of you" I smiled laying down and settling on the pillow
"Well this isn't my usual business so I want to make sure you're comfortable" he smiled "So? All ready?"
"All ready" I smiled
"You mind lifting your dress?"
"Of course sorry" I blushed moving my legs and my dress
"Perfect, It's such a lovely dress I don't want to damage it"
"That's very kind of you doctor" I smiled as I felt his hand moving up my skirt I did my best to bite my lip but not look too eager but the moment his hand made contact I struggled not to moan as his fingers found their way inside me 
"Ohh my, very tense today." He says "You been doing what I recommended?"
"Yes doctor"
"Alright, we'll see how it goes today we might have to give you a few extra appointments"
"More appointments?"
"we might have to."
"Well if you think so doctor" I blushed feeling the intense pleasure from his fingers until I bit my mouth hard gripping the table as I reached my orgasm 
"There we are" He smiled "All done"
"Thank you doctor" I smiled sitting up and doing my best not to turn red 
"Did you want a hand getting down?"
"Yes please" I nodded he happily picked me up letting me nuzzle into his neck as he helped me to my feet 
"There now get yourself home and I'll see you next week"
"Yes doctor" I nodded 
126 notes · View notes
theamityelf · 5 months
Text
My Danganronpa AU Masterlist
Because I realized I need some organization on my blog, lol.
First, my actual fanfiction is mostly on AO3; these will be just Tumblr stuff. Feel free to send an ask about any of these!
AU's are listed in alphabetical order, and the bullet points for each AU are in the order I think would be most coherent for anyone unfamiliar with the AU. I had to limit the amount of posts I included as bullet points, because this post really tested the hyperlink limit at first, lol. In the future, I might make separate masterlists for some of the longer, more detailed AU's in this post, so I can just link the masterlists here. That'll give me room for more links, lol.
Also, check out my Danganronpa analysis tag for posts I've made or reblogged that I just think are interesting from a meta perspective.
Crossover AU's (DR Characters placed in Other Fictional Universe)- has its own masterlist
Plot/Premise AU's
Aikido Makoto AU (someone teaches Makoto aikido)- full tag
Both Classes Despair AU- full tag
Premise
Makoto and Class 77
Bowtie Polycule AU (Naegamigiri/Kamukomaegi)- full tag
Living arrangements
Assassination attempts
Food shenanigans
Chiaki Vampire AU- full tag
Class 79 AU (where V3 cast is class 79)- full tag
Celeste and Angie
Junko and Angie
Makoto and Shuichi
Upperclassman Taka
Hinaegi School AU- full tag
Hinaegi schooltime luck shenanigans
Main Course reaction
Reserve Course reaction
Hajime insecurity
Sakakura incident
Izuru insecurity
Kamuegi introspective cuddles
Hope's Peak Debate Club AU- full tag
Premise/Polyamory web
Kyoko and Makoto
Hope's Peak Deradicalization Class AU- full tag
Premise (Nagito and Angie)
Immortals AU- full tag
Kaede in THH AU- full tag
Kamuegi Hope Tutor AU- full tag
Premise
Kamukuras AU (other characters undergo Kamukura Project)- has its own masterlist
Komaeda Chaperone AU- full tag
Premise
Nagito and Monokuma
Misc Nagito Moments in Chapters 1-3
Komaegi-ish in Chapter 2
Komaegi in Chapters 3-4
Komaeda Intern AU- full tag
Premise
Sick Day (+bonus)
Komaegi UDG AU- full tag
Premise
Nagito, Makoto, and Yuta adventure
Caretaker Nagito
Offshoot: Successor Makoto arc- full tag
Komahinaegi School AU- full tag
Phone wallpaper
Nagito's Internet presence
Naegami rebound arc (Komahinaenami polycule forms after Naegami breaks up)- full tag
Makoto in Other Killing Games AU's- has its own masterlist
Memory Kidnapping AU (Yandere Kamukura)- full tag
Premise
Beginning
Realization
Aftermath: keeping memory ; losing memory
Mini Classmate AU's (doll-sized DR characters cared for by normal-sized DR characters)- has its own masterlist
Naejunko Breakup Komaegi AU- full tag
Premise
Patron Celeste AU (Celeste/Angie)- full tag
Premise
Celeste pining part 1, part 2
Separate Izuru AU- full tag
Premise
Shuichi in THH AU- full tag
Soniakanedam Apartment AU- full tag
Soulmate AU- full tag
Variety list
Makoto and Junko (+bonus)
Makoto and the whole class
Survivors Killing Game AU- full tag
Premise
Naehinahara
Ultimate Makoto AU (where Makoto is Ultimate something)- full tag
Brainstorm
Multiship brainstorm
Undead AU (lucksters care for infected class)- has its own masterlist
Vampire AU- full tag
Premise
Blood rationing
Hope blood vs. Despair blood
How it happened and why it's this bad
THH Survivors locked away
Kamukomaegi feeding time
Vampire Makoto arc- full tag
Werewolf Makoto AU- full tag
Premise
Werewolf Pandemic AU- full tag
Wings AU- full tag
Crossover AU's (Characters from Other Fictional Universe placed in Danganronpa)
Disney Descendants Danganronpa AU- full tag
Ultimates List
Masterminds
Riordanverse Danganronpa AU- full tag
-----------------------
I hope you enjoy, and I hope this masterlist is useful! (At the very least, it's useful to me, lol.)
57 notes · View notes
catholickedd · 2 months
Text
if you need to be mean, be mean to me
(a hilson fic)
a/n: this is my first time ever writing a full-length fic!! feel free to criticize. i had so much fun writing this & i hope you enjoy it!
tags: @sillyhyperfixator @danexist @rapidlydecayingcorpse
chapter 1
“And the patient is still refusing to cooperate?” Dr. Gregory House asked, before shaking two Vicodin into his hand and downing them. It was too early to be dealing with this bullshit.
“Yes,” Dr. Cameron replied, her hands folded on the table. She looked exhausted. “He won’t agree to even the least invasive treatments or tests.”
“Then why does he even have a bed?”
“He collapsed in public and was brought here by ambulance. He’s tried to escape multiple times, but his condition is severe and we can’t let him leave in that state,” Dr. Chase explained.
“If he wants to die so badly, let him die, for fuck’s sake!”
“I know you love to ignore it, House, but there’s a little thing called the Hippocratic Oath that forbids us from things like that.”
House let out a loud and obnoxious sigh that dragged on for an almost awkward amount of time. He had to do everything himself around here.
“Let me deal with it,” he said exasperatedly, and walked out without elaborating.
The fellows exchanged a look. “I don’t like the sound of that,” Foreman muttered.
“Nothing we can do now except sit back and watch the show,” Chase replied, putting his hands behind his head and resting his feet on the table.
“I’ll get the popcorn,” said Cameron.
Wilson had been busy, but he’d forgotten what he was working on as soon as he heard House limping into the lobby. “Uh-oh,” he said with a small smile, putting down the papers he was sifting through and dropping into the easy rhythm he and House had, walking side by side. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look? I don’t have a look,” House said defensively.
“You have all sorts of looks.”
“Then what’s this one? Allegedly?” The last word was said with a sarcastic emphasis and a turn toward Wilson.
“The look when you’ve done something that’s going to get you in trouble and you want to tell me about it.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I haven’t committed one act of medical malpractice today.”
“I think just you being in the building is considered malpractice at this point.”
“That’s what they pay the lawyers for.”
“They must pay them pretty damn well.”
“Not enough, from what Stacy used to tell me.”
Wilson was about to make another witty remark when Cuddy’s voice cut through the hall and stopped the two doctors in their tracks. “HOUSE.”
“Uh-oh,” House said, raising his eyebrows performatively. “Somebody’s in trouble.”
Wilson rolled his eyes and smiled.
“You anesthetized a patient without their knowledge or consent, and then performed a series of tests the patient explicitly refused to have done?”
Wilson smiled to himself.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Who’s to say?”
“God, you are insufferable! Do you realize the consequences we could face for this?”
“Oh, don’t act like this is anywhere near the first time I’ve done something like this,” House said with a roll of his eyes, turning to continue his walk with Wilson. “It’ll all work out in the end. Trust me.”
“The patient’s mother is a member of the hospital Board.”
House froze. “She’s what?”
“She wouldn’t let you know because she didn’t want that to influence your treatment of the patient. Look where that got us. They’re holding a meeting this afternoon. Good luck getting past this one without a court summons.” Cuddy turned on her heel and walked angrily back into her office.
Wilson and House shared a look, House’s expression expectant. Wilson sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll cover your ass again.”
House gave Wilson a wry smile. “Thanks, Jimmy,” he said in a half-sarcastic tone, and walked away.
Wilson watched him go for longer than he should have, then shook his head and got back to work.
The next time House saw Wilson, he was bursting through the doors of his office as House sat with his feet up on his desk. The sun was dipping down into the New Jersey horizon, and Wilson was dressed to leave in a black trench coat which swished behind him as he entered the room. His face was flushed, and he was clearly distressed.
“They’re reviewing both our jobs, House.”
House stood up, hands on the desk to balance him. “They can’t fire me,” he said, a hint of a hint of a waver in his voice. “I’m the best doctor in New Jersey. ”
“They’re spending too much on lawyers to keep you out of malpractice suits. They needed a unanimous vote to fire you, and I vouched for you because of course, because that’s what I do, and now they’re thinking about firing me along with you, and House, I don’t think I can do this anymore. I stick my neck out for you again and again, and for what? All you do is take and take and you never give anything back, and-”
“Why?”
“Why what? I-”
“Why would you do that, in the first place? You never had to do everything you did for me, but you did, you just kept doing it.”
“Because I’m a good person, House! Maybe you don’t understand that, but-”
“No. Even good people burn out after a while of giving to dickheads like me. There’s something else. There’s something you want.”
“All I wanted was to be kind! Maybe if I gave you what you wanted, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable for once-”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in love with you!”
Everything stopped. Wilson seemed to realize what words had just come out of his mouth and sat down on the couch, head in his hands.
“And I thought maybe…someday, you’d look at me that way, and I just kept waiting, hoping you would say something, but you never did.”
Silence. House’s head was cocked, looking at Wilson. When the silence became too much to bear, Wilson took his hands off his face and stood up.
“Well? Say something! Say anything, Greg!” He tried to hide the tears that were rolling down his face.
House looked away.
“Fine,” Wilson hissed through his teeth. “Goodbye.” And he slammed the glass door behind him as he left.
Wilson hadn’t noticed in the dim evening light, but House was crying too.
Wilson was drunk. Drunker than he had been in recent memory. He was lying on the couch with one arm and one leg draped over the back, open whiskey bottle in the hand that hung toward the floor. His apartment was dirty, he was wearing heather-gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and he felt like dying. He was listening to the Tallahassee album by The Mountain Goats through the headphones connected to his iPod, and for this reason he didn’t hear the knocking on the door the first few times it happened, and ignored it the next couple of times. When it became clear the knocker wasn’t going to leave, Wilson got up to open the door, hoping it wasn’t House and praying that it was.
Unfortunately, his prayers were answered. He was standing there, in the same clothes Wilson had last seen him in, leaning against the doorframe, head turned to the side. “Thought you’d never open the door,” he said, playing with his cane.
Wilson began to close the door.
“No, no, no, no, waitwaitwait-'' The door closed on House’s cane, which he had stuck in the gap. Annoyed, Wilson reopened the door. “What?” he asked flatly.
“Jim…you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
Wilson dug his nails into his palm. He’d probably fallen asleep on the couch and that’s where he was right now, dreaming this. Because it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be this perfect.
House took a deep breath.
“AndIneversaidanythingbecauseyouweremarriedandthenyouwerealwaysflirtingwithwomenandweweresupposedtojustbefriends, Ithoughtthatwas justhowpeoplefeltabouttheirfriendsbutIknewitwasn’t,andIlovedotherwomenbuttheyweren’tyoubecauseyouweredifferent, Wilson, you were everything, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, and-“
Suddenly Wilson was grabbing House’s tie and pulling him until their faces were only inches apart and they could hear each other’s soft breathing as their eyes met and locked.
God, the alcohol had made him bold. But how long had he waited to have House’s lips against his? How long had he waited for what he hoped was about to happen? He moved one hand to the back of House’s neck.
“Shut up and fuck me already,” Wilson whispered, and pulled him in for a hard kiss.
————
The morning came far too soon, as it always seemed to. Wilson was incredibly hungover and had one of the worst headaches of his life.
But he forgot it all the moment he realized he had one hand pressed against Gregory House’s bare chest, his head resting near his shoulder, and his other hand loosely placed against his back. He felt the other man’s soft breathing, his chest rising and falling in a calming rhythm. He had a peacefulness that he had never seen in the waking House, and therefore Wilson lay back and appreciated it, appreciated that there was nowhere in the entire world he’d rather be than right here, House’s breath soft on his ear, chest hair rough against his palm.
“This is it,” he thought. “This is what I’ve been waiting for all this time.”
He lay and watched the sleeping man for a bit longer.
Wilson’s breathing patterns changing must have stirred House, because his blue eyes opened before too long. Realizing where he was (and who he was with,) he smiled and pressed a light kiss to Wilson’s neck and then to his mouth.
“You have terrible morning breath,” Wilson said.
“Good morning to you too,” replied House.
Wilson smiled. “Do you want coffee?”
“Of course I do.”
“I’ll make some.”
“Black, no sug-“
“I know how you take your coffee, House,” Wilson said with a smile and pulled on a t-shirt.
House watched him leave the room and lay his head back against the pillow.
Sometimes the world was good.
————
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writingraccoon · 2 months
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tagging @origami-butterfly bc i think you'll be interested at least
So some posts about women in The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and it's adaptations have been going around, so I thought I'd give my two cents that no one asked for.
In the original novella there is one important female character I can think of- The girl Hyde tramples. I have not seen any J&H movies or adaptations, unless you count the four episodes of Once Upon a Time that had a (bad) J&H plotline, but i have a decent impression of how most adaptations treat the women they add in.
First of all, I don't think adding women to Jekyll & Hyde is necessary. It speaks to the attitudes of the time that more women are not in the original book, but the book as a whole is inextricably linked with the attitudes of the time, and separating the culture from the novel serves to strip away much of its meaning. Perhaps casting the butler Poole as a woman, or even making Lanyon a woman could be reasonable ways of putting a little more diversity into screen/stage adaptations, but the novel does not even pass the 'two men talk to each other about something that isn't a man' test.
A piece of media does not need to pass the Bechdel test to be good, or interesting. Frankenstein, J&H, Les Mis, Dracula (iirc), and the Christian Bible are all, to my knowledge, things that do not pass the Bechdel test. They are not less valuable for that.
Many J&H adaptations add a love interest to be killed or spurned by Hyde, or a sex worker to be raped or killed to display how evil he is. I hope I need not say that adding a woman to your story just for her to be fridged to say something about a male character is FAR more sexist and hard to watch than a piece of media that just happens to have a lack of women.
At it's heart, Jekyll and Hyde is a story that needs few characters to be told. There is, of course, Dr Jekyll himself, his alter ego Hyde, Utterson, the lawyer turned detective, Lanyon, and Poole. Any other people that show up in the story are unimportant except for what they say about the main characters (pretty common in fiction. the family that dies at the beginning of the hero's journey is not important in and of themselves). The girl that is trampled by Hyde is there to set up how Enfield met him, and tell the audience how evil he is. The old man who is trampled is there to shock the audience and Utterson, and reveal a new depth to Hyde's cruelty. Now, there's something to be said for the fact that the old man is named while the little girl is not.
While pieces that are less adaptations and more inspired by J&H have far more freedom in what they add and what they omit- The Glass Scientists comic, for instance- adaptations that aim to bring the book to stage or screen should actually read the book before deciding what should take place. I would say that adding a love interest not only is unnecessary, but in fact actively harms the effectiveness of any J&H adaptations. Jekyll and Hyde is simply not about that. It is not a love story, (except, you could argue, the love for Jekyll that drives Utterson to become more invested in his hunt for Hyde) and trying to make it a romance interferes with the point and themes of the story, just like switching the perspective from Utterson to Jekyll messes up the story.
The reason why so many adaptation of Jekyll and Hyde fail to capture the essence of the original novel, is that none of the people in charge of them seem to understand the novel at all. They don't understand why Gabriel Utterson is not only not boring, but why he is the lens through with Stevenson chose to tell the story. They don't understand that Hyde is not a separate person, or an evil second personality, or anything else, but that he IS Jekyll, and Jekyll is him (which is an interesting point about humanity's unwillingness to accept the presence of evil inside of ourselves but i don't think most screenwriters are doing that on purpose). And they don't understand why, to put it simply, the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde does not need the addition of a love interest, and in fact is better for the lack of one.
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jakelandryshorts · 1 year
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A Doctor’s Visit
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(AI image created by Jammer Link)
“Alright Bradly, what seems to be—” Dr. Anderson felt the words get caught in his throat as he saw the man sitting on the doctor’s table. It was possibly the most muscular person he’d ever seen in his life. Even more surprisingly was how Bradly just decided to get undressed before he’d even entered into the room, though looking around there didn’t seem to be any clothes anywhere.
“Well doc, the problem is right here,” Bradly pointed directly at his dick. “This stuff I’ve been taking said that I’m supposed to get big all over, but this hasn’t been changing at all. I was just wondering if you might know what’s up.”
“Oh… Okay,” Dr. Anderson tried to snap out of his daze. Just looking at this man was like looking at a piece of art. His eyes kept getting lost in the contours of Bradly’s muscles. But even as he stared at the other man’s face, he couldn’t help but get lost there too. So many perfectly sculpted masculine features all worked together to make a handsome man. “Did you—” Dr. Anderson cleared his throat, “Did you bring it in so I can look at it?”
“Of course, doc.” Bradly reached into his jock and pulled out a small container. Whatever that small bulge had been completely disappeared and almost looked flat. “I’ve been usin’ it just like it says. But it’s like my cock just won’t get any bigger.”
“Hmmm…” Dr. Anderson tried his best to focus. He’d always heard about steroids causing issues like this, though this looked more like some kind of protein powder or supplement. “Has your… *Ehem* Penis shrank at all?”
Bradly laughed. “Luckily, no. But with how big I’m getting it just looks so damn small!” He flexes when he used the word big.
“That makes sense…” Dr. Anderson said. “I’ll have to send this down to a lab to get it tested. Until then I’m not sure how much I can help you with.”
Bradly nodded. “Understandable.”
“But until then, I might as well get some vitals. Let’s start with height and weight. I know you wrote down, 5’10” 175 pounds, but I think I might need to double check that.” Dr. Anderson said.
“Sure thing doc!” Bradly stood up. Already Dr. Anderson could tell the discrepancy. There was no way this man was only 5’10”, he had to be at least 6’4”. Dr. Anderson had to tilt his head way back to properly look the other man in the eyes. And the 175 had to almost be a joke. It looked like his right arm weighed that much.
Bradly stepped onto the scale. Dr. Anderson raised the bar to measure his height. Just like he thought, 6’5”. He looked down at the scale: 285 pounds. “Let me just up these stats and then we’ll do a little wellness check. Alright?” Bradly nodded. It wasn’t unlike guys like this who hadn’t been to the doctor since they had to have a check up to play any sports. Dr. Anderson just jotted down some notes.
He took out his stethoscope. “So how long have you been trying this new supplement?”
“Hmm? Oh… Uhhh about a month.”
“A month!?” Dr. Anderson nearly shouted. He tried to cool himself back down. “That’s quite the supplement!” Bradly nodded. It felt like he went a little quieter than usual. Dr. Anderson hadn’t ever heard of anything like this, but Bradly didn’t seem to be lying either. “Any other noticeable changes?” The beat of Bradly’s heart thumped louder. A little bit of sweat started to form around the man’s brow. Dr. Anderson paused the examination. “Is there something wrong?”
“It’s just… Uhh… Guys are starting to treat me differently now.”
“You are built like a cartoon character…” Dr. Anderson joked. More sweat was starting to perspire. A strong smell started to fill the room. For a second it smelt awful, but Dr. Anderson’s nose quickly adjusted to it. The strong smell of a locker room started to fill the small office.
“That’s not really it… It’s different. And then there’s this itch…”
“Where at?” Dr. Anderson asked. Bradly seemed to have gone quiet. “Bradly, if you don’t tell me where the itch is, I can’t help…”
“Okay…” Bradly breathed. “It’s in my ass.”
“In—in your ass?” Dr. Anderson repeated. A strange feeling rushed over the doctor. He couldn’t quite explain it. But it was like he was suddenly turned on. His cock quickly hardened in his pants. “Would you please bend over?”
Bradly froze up. “You know what? This was a bad idea… I should—”
Dr. Anderson quickly blocked the door. “As a doctor, I don’t think I should allow you to do that. This is a safe place and there’s full confidentiality between us.”
“O-okay… But don’t do anything funny. Alright?”
“Bradly, I am a doctor.”
“And my friends were straight…” Bradly mumbled.
Dr. Anderson didn’t quite hear it over the snap of his glove. “Ready?”
“Ready…” Bradly said. He let out a gasp as the doctor’s finger pushed inside him. Feeling the digit move around, Bradly struggled to hold down his moans. The way it wiggled inside him was too much. His hands gripped the table tightly as he fought down his sexual urges.
Meanwhile, Dr. Anderson was starting to have a little bit of fun. His cock throbbed with excitement as he watched the giant of a man squirm under the pressure he was putting him under. He suddenly felt like he had so much control. So much power. He’d long since stopped checking for anything and was just looking for the most sensitive parts inside of Bradly.
“Find—Find anything—suspicious?” Bradly grunted. His eyes went wide when he heard the doctor’s pants fall to the ground. He tried to stand up before the doctor pushed him back onto the table.
“Don’t worry boy, all part of the check up,” Dr. Anderson said. He lined up his cock with Bradly’s ass and pushed inside. The young man let out a bit of a yelp as his grip tightened against table. “How’s that feel boy?”
“G-good…” Bradly moaned. His strong body nearly collapsed onto the table in pleasure. “So gooooood…”
Dr. Anderson let out a chuckle. Each thrust felt better than the last. Watching this massive man succumb to his desires only pushed him to keep going. Bradly moaned loudly. Dr. Anderson’s lust only grew. He didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t stop. His dick craved this hole more than he would have ever imagined.
His body bucked. Dr. Anderson’s hands gripped Bradly’s sides hard, digging his nails into Bradly’s sides. The doctor lost control of his body and finished inside the other man. The sheer force of pleasure nearly knocked him out. Sweat dripped from every inch of his body, coating his dress shirt and pants. It almost seeped through to his white coat.
“Aww… Fuck doc, that wasn’t a good idea…” Bradly said as he regained his composure. He sat on the table. His veins were bulging out of his skin as he sat there. There was almost a pulsing of his muscles.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Anderson said. “I don’t know what came over me.” He pulled up his pants and tightened his belt. It went one loop further than it had been and almost seemed to sag around his feet more. He shook his shoulders as he couldn’t help but feel like his shirt didn’t quite fit right either.
Bradly shrugged. “It’s alright.” Then pulled out his phone. “I have an opening in two weeks, but next time it’ll cost you $500.”
“W-what?!”
“Hmm? Oh, I know you already feel it. Just look at the way you’re looking at me,” Bradly smirked. Dr. Anderson couldn’t deny that he was ogling the man sitting on his table. His entire vision was focused on the other man’s hard muscles and a deep seeded desire to touch them again. “How about I just put you down and then you decide if you want to come or not.” He handed Dr. Anderson a slip of paper with an address and time.
“Oh, one more thing,” then stepped onto the scale. “6’6” 301 pounds. Better keep my medical documents up to date.” He tapped Dr. Anderson on the shoulder and left with his mysterious powder.
(More stories over on my Wordpress)
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kbspangler · 11 months
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We're going to start this by saying that—as much as we might want to—we will NOT yeet this person straight into the sun. They're asking questions which…make sense? I guess? In context? Especially for the Webtoons platform?
I mean, I'm so mad I had to get up and walk away for a while before writing, but.
(All of this was originally posted on a thread over on my Bluesky and I finished it before realizing that "webtoon" isn't capitalized so perhaps the researcher means it as a generic term like "webcomics," in which case some of the strongest pro-labor arguments don't apply at all and fuck everything forever, but let's resume.)
A well-known problem with the Webtoons platform is that "successful" comics which pay the artists a wage for their work require brutal labor to meet a regular update schedule.
It's not just comic panels, it's a vertically scrolling art display.
So the obvious answer is "Sod off, fancy lad" but they are actually asking questions which might address real problems: specifically, can a comics artist publishing on Webtoons improve their workflow so they aren't constantly broken by their job?
The researcher is also active in South Korea, where there's a known secondary layer of problems with South Korean comics creators publishing on the Webtoons platform, including pooled labor, contractual obligations, and monetization of time and original IP.
So the researcher is asking questions which might have value!
Meanwhile, Dr. Beer and myself are shouting "GOD I'M SO ANGRY" at each other in chat, because "might have value" is distinct and separate from what the researcher is proposing.
What the researcher is proposing MIGHT be along the lines of what @tkingfisher did when she tested Midjourney's storytelling capabilities and made an AI-generated comic. I don't think it is, tho. Could be wrong, but the phrasing indicates I'm not.
"…expedite their workflow…" How?
"…explore new creative ideas…" How?
"…produce higher-quality artwork…" HOW?!
The phrasing implies using an AI engine to generate some, if not all, of the comic. The researcher might be approaching comics creators to learn if they've considered any of these possible uses for AI, thus resolving the "How?"
The framing is positive, very much a "Have you considered what AI can do FOR you, to HELP you?"
The framing does not appear to take into account the negative aspects of using AI to make comics: Theft. Copyright. The intentional decisions artists make versus AI-derivative images.
Above all, the emotional attachment that comics creators have for the craft of telling their stories through art.
Which is why @alepresser and I have been shouting at each other for at least an hour about *waves hands* all of this, the idea that making comics somehow needs to be fixed, that AI is just another digital tool that can help us rather than something which strips the love away.
p.s.: please read our comics. We love making them. We hope you enjoy them.
A GIRL AND HER FED: science fiction with a healthy side of the supernatural
SIDE QUESTED: queer fantasy YA with a sassy vulture
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