fuckmycrane

[fuckmycrane]

₊❏❜ ⋮ 𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐬.

— JANITOR.AI ! ! ! :

!! If you don't use the JanitorAI LLM, you can set it up with OpenAI! Here's a tutorial on how to set your API key !!

➼ Jonathan Breech : Spending time in a psych ward wasn't the most... fun activity. The company wasn't ideal, the place wasn't ideal and your roommate— well, let's say he leaves a lot to be desired.

➼ Dr. Jonathan Crane : As the new intern in Arkham Asylum, your professor now becomes your boss. There's so much to learn but not only about patients.

— CHARACTER.AI ! ! ! :

➼ None yet.

↳ My Janitor.AI profile. ↳ My Character.AI profile.

[fuckmycrane]

For my Crane girlies (gender neutral 😚) I did a Crane bot in Janitor.AI, Imma post my bots links later and perhaps post more!!! Have fun w him.

[fuckmycrane]

Simp/pervert!Neil specifically setting up "security" cameras around the store that are specifically angled to take downblouse footage of female customers?

18+ smut, perv!/stalker!Neil, hanjob.

Neil bbgirl.

You were by far his favorite customer.

He has seen it all. All types of panties, bras and it is always a blessing when he reviews the security footage after closing the store and he finds customers who didn't bothered to wear a bra or panties underneath their skirts or dresses.

But you... you were different. Not only your body was his favorite one to capture, but he also kept the footage labeled with little hearts inside his locked drawer inside the tiny, pathetic office. Gradually, Neil stopped focusing on your body and stared at your face instead. How you looked around the stacks of movies and TV shows, how your adorable tongue sticked out your parted lips as you pondered what tape will be the chosen one for the weekend... and those days when you don't wear a bra— Oh, those days? Neil combusts.

He likes to pause the footage in that moment when you raise your eyes from the VHS to meet the camera lens. It makes Neil think you are staring at him, watching him jerk off at the blurry video of you— doing something as normal as renting a movie. Neil constantly fantazies about you, how your lips would feel merging with his, how your breasts would feel being held by his trembling hands, and most importantly, how would your lips feel around his cock. There should be remorse running through his mind, but there is none. The desire is burning him alive and Neil knows that sooner or later he has to ask for your name. Just by thinking about your sweet voice brings him to the brink of an orgasm.

His hand speed up and he moans in response to his own ministrations. If you could only see what the kind shop owner does behind closed doors...

[fuckmycrane]

gonna be so fr i was very inspired by ur incel college crane so i made a c.ai character for him 😭

Yeah I know this wasn't for me like you said in the next ask— but writers sometimes don't like having their fics made into bots without their consent.

[fuckmycrane]

Iittle pookie bear 💛

[fuckmycrane]

Ok I might consider opening reqs again but I need ideas guys please

[fuckmycrane]

18+, smut, dead dove do not eat, stepcest, noncon, drug use, hints of sexism/misogyny.

Oh Crane... the man you are 🤍.

Stepbrother!Crane who thinks he is better than you because he is studying psychology. He belittles your career choice, and if you chose the same as him, Jonathan will constantly compare your progress to his.

Stepbrother!Crane who uses you as a lab rat, always asking you questions and "psychoanalyzing" you. He is always ready to comment on your behavior, your responses and your actions.

"You don't have to be so aggressive, darlin'. I know, I know— you hate it when I call you that, but you know that irrational anger is part of a pattern that..."

Stepbrother!Crane who constantly is mansplaining you. It's annoying to the point that you simply stand up and lock in your bedroom, screaming against the pillow from pure frustration. He just stays in the living room, smirking pleased with himself.

Stepbrother!Crane who used you as the lab rat for his first fear toxin prototypes. Before it even was meant to create hallucinations, he just intended to cut every brain signal, sending it to a deep slumber— or momentarily induced coma— and he did it every Friday night before bed.

Stepbrother!Crane who after the third time experimenting with you couldn't help himself and undressed you, watching your seemingly dead body and constantly checking your pulse— what if he accidentally overdosed you?

Stepbrother!Crane who not only writes his progress with the toxin, but also fucks you every Friday night. He enjoys how responsive your body is despite being shut down, he likes how you don't fight back. Crane leaves bruises and marks that you can't simply explain the next morning... accompanied with a sticky mess in between your thighs.

[fuckmycrane]

I started this tag x reader 💋

He will never change — Tom

— CW: 18+!, smut. Drug use (cocaine), smut, (kind of) angst. | word count: 1.3k

— a/n: I noticed I haven't found ANYTHING Tom related and I honestly find that a crime. Only Tom can look fucking hot snorting cocaine and having a breakdown in a bathroom. I do not condone the use of drugs so, don't do it ;).

“Tom are you okay— for fucks sake—” You gasp closing the bathroom door behind you, frowning when you see your husband kneeling next to the bathtub, wiping his nose repeatedly.

“Why can’t you fucking knock the door?” He asks, not bothering to cover his fix.

Locking the door with a flick of your wrist, you step closer to him, heels clicking on the white linoleum. It’s draining to see him decaying like this, even if he constantly promises to stop— both of you he won’t. Hand on your hips, you stare at him from above with a disapproving look.

“Why? So you can hide your cocaine pity party?”

He stands up, towering in front of you. His pupils are blown, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable, you see his eyebrow twitching, as he keeps sniffing. It’s too early to deal with this. Rolling your eyes, you turn around to leave the lavatory, not in the mood to face him while he is in his high— but it appears to be that Tom has other plans.

“Where do you think you are going?” He wraps a shaky hand around your arm, yanking you towards him, and swirls you to press his chest against your back. “You can’t leave”

“Let go of me” You struggle, facing the small mirror cabinet on the wall. His free hand grasps your jaw, forcing you to meet your reflection. Calling his name again he tightens his grip. His arm circles your waist, as his hot breath tickles your neck.

“You are so beautiful” He whispers, squeezing your waist. His touch is uncontrolled, especially when he is under the influence. His body feels like a furnace behind you and you don’t have to be a genius to understand what direction he is going in.

Normally you would have pushed him away, blundered, and lost versus the mad strength that cocaine provides him with until he bends you over and forces you to submit under him; the power exchange sends a shiver down your spine, both eager to give in to his sudden lustful desires and to jab him with your elbow, cut his advances and call for a taxi to leave this place. It is not unusual to deal with Tom when he consumes, but every time it’s a bit more draining until it comes to a point where you consider divorcing him—  You start to wonder if it's worth it to stay with him. You could try to talk to him about his behavior, but he doesn't seem to listen. You feel exhausted and overwhelmed, the concern and hesitation readable in your expression.

“I love this dress on you” He continues, unaware of the turmoil inside your head. Tom’s hands let go of you, reaching for the thin straps of your black cocktail dress, sliding them down your shoulders. His warm lips kiss the side of your neck, smirking when you move slightly to give him more access, it is an instinctive reaction. “Good— good” Your husband breathes out, cupping your breasts and giggling them softly. “You are so sexy—” His teeth nibble your earlobe, forcing a quiet sigh from your part.

His erection pokes your ass, and you can’t help to grind on it, making him shiver and pant your name. It’s obvious this man loves you— but it is frustrating to feel he loves his drugs even more.

It’s easier to be oblivious, to close your eyes, and finally give in before the guilt can engulf you; Stumbling closer to the sink, your hands lay on either side of the porcelain fixture, feeling his hands leave your chest to ride up your dress. His index finger quickly finds your clit, circling it with practiced ease, continuously rubbing his hard cock behind you. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a low whisper that sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You close your eyes, giving in to the pleasure, and let the moment consume you. Tom struggles to unbuckle his belt with one hand, lowering his trousers just enough to free his length and yank his underwear down. 

“You have no idea how much I love you” Tom is painfully aware of how ridiculous the situation is, but he is not willing to stop. In fact, he hooks his fingers in the elastic of your panties and yanks them down, letting them stretch at your ankles. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock he prods your entrance with the tip, gasping in a husky voice when he slowly pushes in.

“Tom—” You moan, a bead of sweat rolling down your cheek. 

He stops, his hands leaving you for a painful moment. The lack of touch hits you with a mixture of frustration and anticipation, looking over your shoulder to find your husband kneeling next to the bathtub once again and unashamedly snorting another line with his cock out. Squeezing the sink with such force that your fingers go numb, you feel a wave of fury crash through you. He will never change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You growl, glaring at him. He simply smiles at you, as if he found the situation amusing. Reaching for your underwear you finally made up your mind— to walk out, leave, call a cab, call your lawyer tomorrow morning, start the divorce process—

But he is quicker. Tom forces you back on the sink, overpowering you and yanking your hair to keep you in place. There’s a faint white spot smeared under his nose, one that you see from the mirror reflection. With a whine, you protest against his rough handling, squeezing your eyes shut and listening to him spit on his palm to smear it over his cock. Pushing your underwear down once again, Tom smirks at the sight of your wet entrance and presses his thumb over your hip. He pushes inside you in one swift movement. Your body betrays you, moaning in appreciation at the known sting of his cock spreading your warm insides. His breath grows ragged, thanks to your sinful walls clenching around him and the cocaine. His hips pull back and forth again, taking what he wants, not really caring for your needs and thoughts. 

Tom’s pace increases, clasping a hand over your mouth to keep your noises down— you are still in the bathroom and the walls are pretty thin; his thrusts becoming deeper and harder that you completely forget you were furious at him. 

“Pretty, pretty, pretty” He moans in appreciation, rutting into you like a madman. Your legs shake, barely holding up with his movements. “You will never leave me, I will never leave you” It sounds like a promise, but not the sweet one he did at your wedding, holding hands, back when things were easier— it almost sounds like a threat.

His name falls from your lips like a melody, muffled by his hand and spurring his hips. Sneaking his hand in between your thighs, the position is clumsy but he manages to find your clit again, torturing the swollen nub with his rough fingerpad and choking a moan as your pussy convulses around him. 

Shuddering with pleasure, your eyes roll back. Your climax is so close, moving his hips to meet his thrusts in a desperate attempt for more. Tom notices this, already having memorized your body like the back of his hand. He isn’t far, and when you finally reach your orgasm and crumble underneath him, he bites his tongue so hard it nearly draws blood. 

The hot sensation of his cum flooding your insides earns him a weak mewl, slowing his hips until he can’t handle the overstimulation. It’s too much, it’s terrible. The aftermath is messy and welcomes you with that dreaded feeling. You can’t continue with this. Your eyes swell up with tears of regret, cursing yourself for always falling back to the endless loop of fights and reconciliation sex. Tom pulls out with a tired sigh, watching how his release slides down your spent hole only to push it back inside with his fingers. 

Your tears fall to the sink, sobbing silently at the broken marriage you can’t seem to get out of when you hear him snort again, which causes you to sob louder.

He will never change. 

[fuckmycrane]

Crane gives so much stepbrother/big brother vibes!

[fuckmycrane]

looooved the Tom blurb. so glad ur posting again!

Thank you! I'm so excited to post again. I just needed to rile up my Cill fixation.

[fuckmycrane]

Me n who (im crane <3)

doctor abduction

[fuckmycrane]

18+, smut, drug use, dubcon.

– a/n: before I eep. We. Need. More. Tom. Content (and I'll provide 🫡)

A sticky string of drool trickles down your chin as Tom's cock bullies your tight walls. His shaky hands squeeze your waist hard enough to bruise— but your thoughts are too foggy and your pussy is too cockdrunk to even form a coherent word.

When your divorce lawyer offered you a glass of wine, you— stupidly— thought it would help you ease some of the stress, because a damn divorce is so fucking exhausting... but surprise! A bottle of wine later, you found yourself accepting a line... and his cock. Your head is floating, everything is spinning and every sensation is heightened; you don't even register the slight pain in your lower back from the way Tom has you bent over on his couch, pinning you down with his weight.

His dick is big— bigger than your ex–husband's, bigger than that noisy vibrator you bought after your excuse of a man stopped pleasuring you... because God forbids a man is capable of making a woman feel good.

You mewl weakly when he stops, you listen to his hurried fidgeting and despite your dizzy neurons, you quickly understand what he's doing— as if the loud snort wasn't enough. Tom groans, rubbing his nose and smirking. "Having fun?" He asks breathlessly, reaching for your ass and groping it meanly. Words fail you, in fact, every fiber of your being is under your mercy. Tom laughs, enjoying the view of your first ride. "Yeah, you'll get used to it."

[fuckmycrane]

18+ fauxcest/stepcest. dead dove do not eat. fingering. age gap. dubcon. borderline cheating.

– a/n: long time no see ;PP. remember, if you don't like it... don't read it.

"Mr. Shelby— please—" You choke, squeezing your thighs together. His large hand gropes your thigh, tracing his calloused fingertips down your knee. Thomas is marvelous with the softness of your skin— perhaps is the purity that still reigns in your blood, or the youthful nature of a beautiful lady.

"That's not how I asked you to call me, is it?" Tommy whispers, leaning down. His chapped lips brush over your earlobe, rising shivers down your spine. "What's the matter, doll? Cat got your tongue?

"I'm sorry… Dad."

The word rolls off your tongue like a bitter reminder of the twisted relationship you never asked for— yet, you bask yourself in. You never reject a gift, or a vacation or a whole new wardrobe. Thomas Shelby was the man who walked into your life— and your mother's— when you needed him the most; so, what kind of daughter would deny such a simple request?

"Much better," Tommy kisses your forehead, which is the most affectionate thing you've ever seen him do. The same hand that caresses your knee lifts the heavy skirts of your dress, reaching between your thighs to tease your center. "Haven't I taken good care of you, darling?" You nod weakly, because that's the only thing your foggy brain can muster right now. Every thought is blurred to a thick mist when he slides a finger in, static buzzing in your eardrums as Tommy's breath hitches at the quiet squelch of your walls accommodating his digit. Your hands tighten on the armrests of his office chair— perhaps sneaking into his office was a bad idea.

"Yes, yes you have."

"What do we say?" Thomas urges, sticking a second finger, successfully punching the air out of your poor lungs. His wrist bends as he speeds up, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt.

"Thank you, Dad."

[fuckmycrane]

[fuckmycrane]

He is so me 🤍

Gamer

[fuckmycrane]

He looks so fucking stupid I love him he looks like a Christmas elf ;(

CILLIAN MURPHY as Pieter in Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003) | dir. Peter Webber

[fuckmycrane]

Fr

I like my men sweaty and unhinged 😌