#arkhamverse jonathan crane x reader smut
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
riddle-me-ri · 2 years ago
Note
Harley Quinn! or Arkham Knight! Scarecrow and soft dominant! female or gender neutral reader, please?
I think anyone had any thoughts about "using" the noose around the neck of John's suit to strangle him a bit, right? Well, the reader can do not only that, but also ride John. I also consider the fact that he would allow someone like that as a sign of a strong enough trust.
A/N: hnng–anon when I tell you this request FUCKED me up I sincerely mean it. Like holy shit, AAHHH. I decided to take a dive off into the deep end and went with Arkhamverse Scarecrow. This is my first time writing for him solo and it’s smut on top of that! Let’s go lads! Also sorry not sorry for the title I couldn't resist, let me be corny damnit 
Trigger Warning:  explicit sexual content, cowgirl position, piv intercourse, choking/gagging, idk if this counts but Scarecrow refers to you as a pet and you call him professor so…name play? Not quite roleplay though…and strong language.
Word Count: 1.5 k
Arkhamverse Scarecrow x F!Reader - Save a Horse, Ride a Scarecrow
Tumblr media
Adrenaline, mixed with lust and spiced with a smidgen of anxiety laced your veins and sent your nerves aflame. 
You've heard that the Scarecrow was void of all fear…some rumored him to be void of all emotion. 
Oh, you doubted that. You wanted to test that rumor and lay it to rest even just for your own morbid curiosity…much like the curiosity of a certain ex-Professor. 
You knew the main reason Jon even kept you around was because you are different. 
You are resilient, resourceful…but also careless and impulsive. A perfect test subject one might say. Fear is something that can be faced either head on or with some form of tact but the results always vary.
To say you are intriguing…almost amusing was a surprise. You stood the test of time, often being the constant in most of his tirades against the city.
You always rose to the occasion, so he decided to "keep you close" so to speak. He even slowly began revealing his inner most thoughts in miniscule moments of vulnerability you thought had long vanished from the stoic man.
Now all you can think about is getting closer to the professor. For all his brilliance and determination…you wanted to break him down like he tried so many others. Like he has tried to do to you.
Perhaps not by fear, but something more pleasurable. 
"Professor…" You purred into his ear from behind. 
He glances at you over his shoulder. Emotionless for now. "Hmm…what is it, pet?" 
"May I be so selfish to ask for your attention…for a moment?" 
Crane blinked, slightly annoyed to stop his task, but intrigued by your motives.
He turned around on his dilapidated office chair almost perfectly for your upcoming assault. 
Crane didn't have a chance to question you as you straddled his lap, he immediately grabbed your waist out of instinct. 
The sharp intake of breath from Crane made you grin to the side. 
"What's the meaning of thi-"
You shushed him. “Relax, Professor…you can do that for me? At the very least?” 
Before Jonathan could make a retort, you teasingly grinded on his groin causing him to groan instead. To further ensure he didn’t argue your hypothesis, you crashed your lips onto his. 
You kissed, licked, and nibbled the mangled bits of his lips, you reveled in how he finally gave into his own desires of human contact which he couldn’t deny any longer, especially in your presence. 
You pulled back slightly, glancing at him, eyes scanning from his face down. Studying him if you will. 
You leaned your weight over to lean on the thigh of his good leg as opposed to the one still in a brace. You scooted back for a moment to unzip his pants and pull them down to his knees. 
Not once did he argue or make a sly remark, too busy breathing deeply, trying to catch a breath to his growing steady heartbeat. 
Maybe…he was just as curious as you were. 
"It'll take more than you straddling me to hng-" 
Perhaps you spoke too soon. 
Without so much as a second thought, you grabbed the knot to the hangman noose that was strewn over his neck. You jerked it, causing it to slightly tighten around his neck; cutting off his remark. 
"Of course it will. Such a dignified man as yourself, but we're just getting started…" You tugged the noose to move his head to the side of yours. You whispered the rest in his ear, "...Professor." 
You let go of the knot and Crane's upper body fell back into the chair. He growled in agitation but didn't speak any further. 
Once his pants and underwear were pulled back a little past his knees. You assumed your previous position back in his lap. 
You let a sly smirk appear on your lips, getting high off the delightful view of his arousal for you. He can try and deny it vocally, but he knows more than anyone about the human body’s natural reactions to certain stimulations. 
Jonathan’s grunts were muffled as you kissed his lips again, passionately. He tried to keep your tongue from submerging past his lips, but one nip to his lips and you were able to make your tongue at home in the warm cavern of his mouth. Licking and flicking along his tongue and teeth. 
Your lips vibrated slightly as Jon groaned into your lips as you teasingly rubbed your lower lips up and down along the head of his cock. Slowly sliding his cock into you.
You despise how easy his noises make you even more drenched than you started. Especially when he groans at just even the fraction of pressure you give his dick or the delicious growl he lets out when you finally sheath yourself fully and completely on him. 
Oh God, it’s been too damn long since you’ve gotten any. 
You slowly peeled your lips away from his and began marking out kisses and bites all over his skin. Small pants began puffing onto your shoulder as you slowly began building up the pace. The very tip of him nearly hitting your cervix, each time you thrusted fully to the hilt. 
“P-Professor…mmm…fuck…”
Jon responds with more grunts and moans as his gloved fingers tighten around your bare waist. No doubt leaving some bruises of his own on your skin. 
You continued your bouncing on his hips, getting high of the friction and tension slowly welling up in your stomach. You could tell Jonathan was also enjoying himself, as his head occasionally leaned back, giving your hungry lips more access to other parts of his neck. 
The whines of the rusted beaten old chair, pants, moans, the squelching of your juices every time you connected to Jon; resulted in a cacophony of passion that filled the entire room. 
You began thrusting faster and faster on his lap, slowly dangling over the edge of ecstasy that you so craved and that you wanted Jonathan to experience. To prove he wasn’t void of all emotion, especially not one was prevalent as fear like pleasure. 
“Pro-Prof-…Jonathan…” You whined as your body began locked in rhythm of thrusting almost all the way out and then thrusting yourself fully back into him. No longer able to keep up with his title.
Jonathan groans, lolling his head back once more. “You’re doing very well, pet…”
It was too late for you to take back the pathetic swoon you let out at his praise. Jonathan lifted his hand up to his chest and grabbed the piece of rope dangling from his noose. 
You looked down, slowing your movements to see what he was doing–only for him to swiftly thrust up into you, almost knocking the air out of you. 
“Don’t–Don’t stop…mmm…use…use it–” He groaned, holding out the rope to you. 
Oh, so the Professor was kinky, you had always suspected it but could never pin down which kinks. 
Absolutely elated by the revelation, you snatched the noose and made quick work of building the pace you set earlier. 
You gasped every time he decided to match your thrusts with his own, you could feel him hitting your cervix each time and it made you gasp out. You felt like you were being split into two in the most delicious way possible. 
Not forgetting your newfound permission, as your thrusts quickened, your walls tightened around his cock like a vice. Every time he gasped as your pussy choked him, you also tightened the noose around his neck. Further robbing his breath away. 
“Agh-hnng..” Jon choked out, but you felt his cock get stiffer inside you. 
Between the rope, the friction, his sounds; you were close to your breaking point. 
Your nerves were on fire, that prickling sensation of your muscles slowly going to sleep from the straddle position you have put them in for too long. You didn’t care, they were going to be revigorated in a minute. 
You planted yourself still on his cock as the rest of your limbs erupted into shakes and shivers. Your walls gripped him like a leech to flesh, sucking him, choking him…much like his upper half. 
You heard a few more gurgled groans as you tightened the noose around his neck one last time and stronger than before. 
Between your suffocating climax and the tingling sensation in his brain as his oxygen was reduced. Crane quickly joined you in the afterglow. 
By the end, you were both panting for breath as you rested your head into his shoulder. You let go of the noose and let your arms fall to your side. 
“Eek–Jonathan! Ow!” 
He pinched the skin of your buttocks. “That’s for calling me Jonathan…you know your place…pet.” He chuckled. 
You rolled your eyes. “Are you so sure…Professor…cause from where I am…” You straightened up and leaned back on your haunches, still in his lap. “You’re the pet…”
Jonathan scoffed. “Don’t get cocky…pet. I let you…take control. Listen closely…I let you.” 
You nodded. “I know…and…thank you…for letting me.”
“Good girl…” He growled.
You slowly got up from his lap. You worried that you would get wrapped up in a round two more sooner than you were prepared for after calling you that. You collected your bottoms and Jonathan made work pulling his underwear and pants back up. 
“May I ask what…motivated such an act?” Jon perked up. 
You giggled at the thought now, realizing how ridiculous it all was. “Just a little experiment of my own, Professor. And the results more than satisfactory…”
138 notes · View notes
capr1pengu1n · 29 days ago
Text
be advised, no restitution comes tonight
Tumblr media
Summary: Reluctantly agreeing to attend a Halloween party, once Jonathan sees you in your outfit, he can't seem to keep his hands to himself
Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), dom!Jonathan, roleplay, costumes, corruption kink, choking, spanking, fear play(ish), creampie
Words: 2.6k
Notes: Happy halloween! <3 Hope you all have a spooky day! <3
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With a sigh, Jonathan adjusts the cloak that wraps around his dark ensemble, looking in the mirror with a critical eye. Halloween has always been his favourite holiday, and why wouldn't it be? The night where everyone in Gotham is after a thrill, a scare. And he'd be there to give it to them, pumping his fear gas into whatever nightclub room or cinema screening he fancied, watching on in glee as people screamed and sobbed at the intensity of their nightmarish visions. He'd laugh to himself, analysing their facial expressions, estimating their heart rate, placing small bets as to which person would crack first.
Ideally that's what he'd be doing now, but as he adjusted the ridiculous costume you'd made him wear, he had to place those thoughts away. Being invited to a party was not his idea of a good time, but he knew the optics, he knew he had to show his face, if only for an hour or two before he could slip away and start his own night of fun. And if some liquidized fear toxin just happened to make it's way into whatever stupidly expensive liquor Nygma would be sure to be drinking, then he supposes he'll just have to enjoy the show.
"Y'done yet?" He calls out to you, eyeing the bedroom door with slight annoyance. The sooner you both leave, the sooner he can get this whole socialisation over with. Muttering to himself, he checks his watch before the telltale creak of the door opening makes his eyes dart up.
You'd told him your idea of a couples costume, and he'd scoffed at first. It was only when you promised to watch some obscure french horror film with him that he finally relented and allowed you to order the costume in his measurements. But now he realises it was worth it, if only to see you looking so...delectable.
You grin as you walk up to him, long white dress trailing with each step. He watches your eyes go to the mask, and the slight blush that forms on your cheek as you take him in.
While he'd read the novel, he had never seen the film or stage adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera, only familiar with the mask that now adorns his sharp features. So he hadn't known what to expect when you said you were dressing as Christine. Immediately his hands go to trace the lace sleeves of the dress, bony digits caressing the pattern downwards.
"Jon...you look amazing." you say with a smile, the white mask coupled with the dark suit and cloak really making him appear more villainous. His stature means he looms over you as you speak, and the faintest trace of a smirk becomes etched on his face as he realises the effect he's having.
Not that his trousers hadn't gotten more tight the second he'd seen you, the picture of innocence in virginal white, your hair up and adorned with little gems. To tease you, he grabs your wrist and holds it up, pulling you closer and not letting you pull away.
"Don't you look like a little angel." he taunts, eyes dragging up and down you once again, settling on your cleavage shamelessly. Your breathing increases, slightly intentional on your part to make your chest rise and fall in an obvious way.
"Do I?" you ask, slightly coquettishly as you smile up at him. In return, the grip on your wrist tightens a little.
"You do darlin'...so innocent and corruptible."
At his words, you flush slightly as he bends down to run his nose gently along the side of your neck. The gesture makes your lips part, tilting your head and baring yourself to him as a sign of implicit submission. And he likes that.
"The Phantom wants the girl, doesn't he?" he asks, his voice slightly rougher as you nod in confirmation. "Can see why, but does she want him?"
"In the film she does...she's drawn to his mystery I think."
He hums in response, leaning down but stopping just before his lips graze your skin, content to watch the slight shiver the action elicits from you. "And what about you?"
"If it's you, then I'd follow you anywhere. Even in the depths of your lair beneath an opera house." you say breathlessly with a soft laugh, attempting to make light of the situation to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting just how turned on you've became by Jonathan doing barely anything.
He finally lets go of your wrist, but not before pushing you so your back hits the hallway wall. This time when he leans down, he does leave a soft kiss right on your pulse point, and the soft whimper that escapes your throat makes him grin.
"Jonathan...we have to go, we don't want to be late." You say, attempting to have some control over yourself. But he doesn't let you move, still crowding you against the wall.
"I have to get in character, don't I?" he teases, and you could curse his southern drawl for sounding too attractive in this moment as his breath tickles your ear. "I'm a very...passionate man after all, am I not? One that is hopelessly in love with the beautiful young opera singer."
His tone is almost mocking, but it doesn't stop you from biting your lip as his chest nearly presses against yours. Teeth gently graze your earlobe before he continues. "And my beautiful prey has stumbled into my lair so willingly, in such a temptin' outfit."
He punctuates his words by running his hands up your sides, thinking the fabric is too soft, too delicate for a man like him to be touching. But that is precisely what's turning him on, as he holds you in place. "Perhaps I should demonstrate to her the depths of my desires...show her what she's missin' out on in her pristine life."
His words act like a sharp knife, cutting through your worry of being punctual as he can observe your shoulders relaxing. To seal the deal, he brings his mouth to the side of your neck and bites down, leaving a mark. "So I can taint her."
With a shaky sigh, you nod, giving him the permission he was waiting for. His hands reach up to cup your tits, feeling the top of them roughly beneath his callous fingers. You arch your back a little, enjoying the touch despite the slight discomfort.
"Tell me my dear...are you scared of me?" he mutters, his voice taking on a dark edge as he gets into character, well, his version at least.
"Y-Yes." you say softly, playing up the innocent victim angle, just like you know he likes.
"You should be...these hands have ended the lives of many men who cross me, of men who think they can have you."
Despite the make believe aspect, your breath still catches and your hips still buck at his words, heat blossoming between your legs. Of course he catches this, moving his hands down to feel your hips, head dipping to kiss down your neck to your collarbones.
"And yet you come to me so willingly, such eager prey."
At his words, he traces his teeth down, not quite breaking the skin but giving you the threat that he could. You let out a deliciously desperate noise, almost tempted to beg but deciding against it. Jonathan always liked the thrill of the chase, of wearing you down and frightening you into submission. And you loved to give him that.
"What are you going to do to me?" you ask, proud of yourself for how convincing you made your apprehension sound.
"Oh angel..." he croons, pulling away to look at you, grasping your jaw for good measure. "Whatever I please."
At his words, he grips your wrist once more before pulling you into the bedroom. You stumble to match his pace as he takes a moment to look at you once more. It's almost clinical, the way he stares at you.
"I wonder what you'll look like beneath me." he says aloud, starting to circle you, relishing in the embarrassment that seems to radiate from you. You fight to keep still, fiddling with your sleeve before he settles behind you.
His hands go to the back of your dress, where you’d nearly cracked your back attempting to tie a cute little bow. Feeling the dress loosen, you know he’s undone it, before he reaches around to grip at your throat, pulling your back roughly against his chest. He doesn't move or relax his grip, simply humming and pressing his mouth to your jawline.
"You're tremblin' like a leaf." he says in a self-satisfied manner. "Maybe I should show y'the things I can make you feel."
Pressing his fingers in a little, the sensation of him choking you has a soft mewl escape your lips, eyelids fluttering shut. Your life is in his hands, both in the roleplay and in reality, and it causes your thighs to press together firmly.
"The pleasure that comes from fear, the endorphins your body releases when you’re unsure if you should run or submit.”
He hisses the last word into your ear, before bending you over the bed. You yelp softly, bracing your fall on your elbows as he quickly pushes the long white skirt up. As more of your skin is revealed, he lets out a guttural noise as he sees the matching white stockings and garter belts you’d put on underneath.
“Such a fuckin’ sight.” He says, snapping the elastic of the stocking against your skin to make you jump.
His constantly cold hands trace up to your panties, feeling the wet material beneath his fingertip. Smirking, he circles it methodically, your clit receiving a dull stimulation.
“Please…” you beg him softly, trying to grind down on his digit.
He wants nothing more than to drag this out, to make you beg and scream for him before he finally takes you. But he knows time is fleeting, and you both need to make an appearance soon. So he quickly pulls down your underwear, so they stay around your knees, before pushing a finger inside your sloppy sounding cunt.
“So wet…I knew you were secretly a dirty angel. Practically soaking through your nice underwear. All f’me.”
At his words he pushes a second one inside, stretching you out as he fucks you with a suprisingly gentle rhythm. Your thighs shake a little, and images of you screaming and writhing with his fear toxin in your system flash across his mind.
Pushing back against him, the rhythm of your hips moving forces him out of his daydream, and he deems you stretched enough to pull his fingers out, wiping them on your ass.
He fiddles with the zipper of his costume, before he gets an idea. Grabbing you, he forces you around the bed, so you’re still bent over, but are now facing the mirror you'd used earlier to admire yourself in your dress.
You gasp softly in embarrassment as you realise what he wants, but your eyes can’t tear themselves away from his face, how gorgeous the mask looks settled on his striking features. So captivated, you miss that he’s taken his cock out until he taps it against your asscheek, before pushing it against your soaked folds.
“Do you want me? Beg. Beg me to debase you, to corrupt you.”
“Please…” you say, needing him desperately as he grinds his cock along your cunt, never quite breaching. Holding his gaze in the mirror, you reiterate. “Please corrupt me.”
He grins, before pushing in, and your mouth parts into a slight 'o' shape as you’re filled. The ever so slight burning stretch only adds to the sensation, your hands gripping the sheets as he settles inside you as deep as he physically can get himself.
“Good…” he gets out through gritted teeth.
At your airy moan, he starts his even pace. The slick sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, and you have to look down to avoid the image of your own desperation in the mirror. A hand grabs at your hair and pulls, disrupting your carefully placed hairstyle.
“Look at yourself, watch as the monster everyone fears takes what he wants.”
You moan louder, watching your own expression in the reflection as you’re fucked. Luckily he doesn’t seem to mind when your gaze travels upwards, watching his facial expressions. His jaw set in a tight line, he looks at you with an almost sadistic expression. Like he unashamedly wants to break you.
His hand grabs at your hip, feeling the material beneath his grasp as he bunches it. With each thrust, the dress ripples and moves, and he looks up to see your breasts bouncing with each snap of his hips.
“How depraved you’re become, moanin' like a paid harlot on the Paris streets.” He groans, and you’d admire his dedication to the roleplay if your brains weren’t leaking out of your ears. “Such wanton desperation from a girl as delectable as you.”
You whine at his praise, unable to hold yourself up anymore so you let yourself fall into the pillows. The image causes Jonathan to speed up his thrusts, gripping one of your hands and moving it in a demand for you to self pleasure. Not needing to be told twice, you start to circle your clit, moaning out at the sensation.
“Good girl…need you to cum around me, show me how lustful and immodest I’ve made you.”
You nod, feeling the pleasure build and build. A sharp slap to the ass makes you jump, writhing in place. Sure that you’re makeup is most likely a mess now, you drag your cheek across the sheets to get a better look at the mirror, more specifically at your lover.
The fact he hadn’t taken the costume off makes it even better, his cloak moving with every thrust. You’re a little surprised his mask has stayed on, but you thank whatever sex deity allowed it to remain in place for the image it gives you. This’ll be masturbation fodder for a good while, you’re sure of it.
“Gonna cum…” you manage to get out after a while longer, his cock thrusting into your g spot with cruel precision now. He growls behind you, slapping your ass again just to be cruel.
However the stinging pain tips you over the edge as you cum with a soft cry, clenching around him. You keep rubbing your clit, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible. Hands falling back to the sheets, you feel Jonathan slightly reposition you, before he starts thrusting harder.
Clearly chasing his own release, he grips both of your hips and rams into you, and his breathing patterns lets you know it won’t be long. So you keep letting out pathetic sounding gasps and whines, arching your back for him. He groans, feeling his balls tighten.
“I’m gonna fill you up, make you keep my cum all throughout the stupid party.” He manages to get out, before he’s spilling inside of you. After a few more shallow thrusts, he stills, basking in the feeling of your walls wrapped around him.
Eventually he pulls out, quickly yanking your panties up snugly so his cum can’t leak out all the way. You whimper at the sensation, cold and uncomfortable, but at the same time so...right.
“There…nice and snug.” He condescends, patting your ass before pulling your dress back down. Helping you up, he turns you around and holds your cheek, looking down at you. “Was I convincing?”
You nod dumbly, still frazzled even as Jonathan looks at his watch. “Good, if we leave now we can still make it in time to see Nygma relive his childhood years after toasting his glass.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
103 notes · View notes
caesariawritesstuff · 4 months ago
Note
for the follower event ! prompt: discreet sexual tension 4 and/or 9 with detective reader and scarecrow (or eddie if you’d like). i was so excited to see you update cat & mouse, it’s definitely one of my favorite fics ever. keep it up and congrats!! <3
Learning to Share
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Edward and Jonathan have come to an arrangement...one that involves sharing you.
Content Warning: P in V sex, MFM threesome, sexual punishment, begging, jealousy, masturbation, fingering, spanking, discussions about fear. Slight continuation of Damaged Goods.
Word Count: 15.7k
A/N: @a1atheias also requested the ���i want you” “then take me” prompt with reader and scarecrow ☺️. This fic got so out of hand and I'm so sorry it's so long!!!! I had an idea and RAN with it. I really hope you enjoy and hope this doesn't suck lmao. Also special thanks to @jkcreation for helping me a bit to figure out how I wanted this to go. Fic is not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Being involved in law enforcement in Gotham ends in several days: death, burn out, turning to drugs and alcohol, being involved in some twisted experiment, or quitting the force entirely seemed to be the usual ways out – so when a member of the GCPD officially made it to retirement after a long, lustrous career – it was something of a celebration.
With a heavy sigh, you looked up at the Cyrus Pinkney Institute for National History and frowned, disdain clear your eyes. Bright lights surrounded the stone building, bathing it in a yellow glow. All around you, Gothamites came and went, laughing and chatting, dates on their arms. Right about now, you’d much rather be in the bubble bath, face mask on and a good book in hand, but alas, being invited to the retirement party of Sergeant Groszek felt a bit like a summons. There would be quite a large number of officers and detectives there, and you did not want to give off the wrong impression and come off as rude – so that was how you found yourself now, wearing an emerald green dress that reached just shy of your fingertips, hugging your curves in all the right places; the balloon sleeves were tight around the wrist and airy around your arms, hanging off your shoulders, revealing your smooth skin. Across the neckline, it dipped low to reveal a tasteful amount of cleavage – one appropriate for an outing like this. Your gaze slid to the left, where Edward tightly had one arm wrapped around your waist, wearing an identical, green-colored suit that complimented your own dress well. He looked quite handsome in his green suit, the material sleek, and his grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging in. You had assured Edward he didn’t have to come with you to this little event, but he insisted. Quite a bit more than usual, but you shrugged away the thought.
Sighing, you looked at him and said, “We don’t have to stay long. Just enough for me to mingle, drop off this card, and then we can get out of here.”
Edward quirked a brow at you, a slow smirk creeping along the edge of his lips. “Don’t worry, detective, I’m sure I can keep myself occupied while you mingle with these simpletons.”
You smirked back, shaking your head, but walked in tandem with him up the stony steps and into the museum, a spring air gusting across your exposed skin. There were signs posted about with arrows leading you towards the private room where the retirement party was being held, and you and Edward followed them with ease, passing by a myriad of exhibits within glass cases. But as you came to the doorway, you sucked in a breath, silently prepping yourself for the onslaught of small talk you were sure you’d be dragged into. This really was the last place you wanted to be. Narrowing your eyes, you looked around at all of the party goers, already chatting up a storm and congratulating Sergeant Groszek on his achievements over his long career. Along the back wall was a display of food catered in: meat and cheese and fruit platters, chips, small finger foods and sandwiches, and a large custom cake. But your eyes instead caught on the bubbly wine being laid out by a caterer – and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. Well, at least there was something you could look forward to here.
You wandered over, slipping out of Edward’s grasp, and snatched up a glass of wine, bringing it to your lips and sipping slowly. When you pulled the glass away, a smudge of bright lipstick stained the rim. Everyone around you was already engaged in hearty conversation, dressed in suits and ties, women in gorgeous dresses. You glanced down at your own, a small smile curving at the edge of your mouth; Edward had handpicked it just for you, just for this occasion. He’d chosen it with quite great care, you’d noticed, and that simple fact made your heart flutter thunderously in your chest, a warmth pool deep in your stomach. Your thoughts were already straying to what it would be like for him to peel it off you when you got home.
“Give me a moment, will you?” Edward asked, his breath at your ear, tickling your skin. You nodded, watching him slip away, somewhere down the hall where the bathrooms were located.
You turned away, gripping the stem of your glass tightly, and wandered over to one of the shadowy corners away from prying eyes. Ever since you started dating Edward, fitting in with your coworkers had become more difficult. Not like you’d ever fully fit in with them in the first place. Frowning, you took an even deeper sip, draining almost half the glass in the process.
“Careful, detective,” a deep, gravelly voice said from beside you, getting your attention. “This is a party, not a brewhouse, correct?”
You lowered your glass just in time to see Jonathan Crane walk up beside you. Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise; you had not expected to find him here, out and about and surrounded by actual people and not vials of chemicals, especially after the…little incident down in the forensics lab at the GCPD a few weeks ago. An incident that had not only left you slightly shaken, irritated, and annoyed – but also turned on. More than you cared to admit. But ever since that moment, you hadn’t been blind to the way Crane watched you with a slow intention, a careful gaze whenever he did manage to come up from the lab. He only ever exchanged a few words for you, but you could feel the tension between you two, crackling like lightning just under the surface. You were not entirely sure what it was about him that drew you to him, but something did, something you were so desperately trying to fight down and not make known.
You studied him closely, taking in his brown suit and tan colored tie, but your eyes lingered for a little too long on his reconstructed face, and the delicate lines etched into his skin, remnants of multiple surgeries he’d been through. But your gaze met his for a slight moment, and you turned away, taking another sip, as if to prove a point.
“Aren’t parties to be enjoyed, Dr. Crane?” you asked, keeping your voice level.
“Parties such as this bore me,” he said.
You smirked, looking down for just a moment. “Yeah, I don’t exactly enjoy parties like this either,” you mumbled. But when you looked up, you scanned the sea of faces for Edward, but found no sign of him. Where is he when I need him? you wondered.
“Why is that?” he asked after a beat.
You scoffed under your breath, once more taking another sip of your drink. “I guess you could say they bore me, too,” you finally answered. At least coming here with Edward was one thing – if only he would turn back up again. Your gaze searched for him once more, but when you saw no sign of him, your heart sunk, a strange aching in your stomach.
“Something bothering you, detective?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” you said, quickly, not wanting to show him an ounce of your discomfort. You certainly didn’t want a man like him getting under your skin. Again.
“Your body language betrays you,” he said. “Are you afraid of something?”
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Afraid my boyfriend is getting himself into trouble. You know how Edward is.”
“I walked past him moments ago,” Crane said. “He’s involved in quite the conversation with the Commissioner and the Mayor. Perhaps it will be a while. Why don’t you sit and enjoy yourself for the time being?”
You hesitated, your grip on your wine stem tightening, but you studied him carefully, before your gaze strayed back to the other side of the room. Well…you supposed he was right. Standing here rocking back and forth on your heels wasn’t going to do you any good. It would only serve to make you grow more agitated. Taking another sip of your wine, you sighed, but walked past Crane, searching for an empty seat – and you spotted a small table off to the right, hidden away in a shadowy corner. You quickly sat down and crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in your seat. But to your surprise, Crane followed you and sat at the seat opposite of you. You frowned, your heart leaping into your throat. You immediately looked away, even though you felt his eyes burning holes in your skin.
“Can I help you, Dr. Crane?” you asked after a long moment of silence.
“I’d like to continue our discussion from a few weeks ago,” he said. “I believe it was left…quite unfinished.”
“Ah,” you said, twirling your glass between your fingertips. “Another therapy session.” You leaned back, meeting his gaze, not wanting to back down from his questions. Not this time – you would not give him the satisfaction.
“All right,” you said. “Ask me whatever you want. I’m an open book.”
A low rumble emanated from deep within his throat. “Be careful what you wish for, detective. You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to.”
You smirked. “Try me,” you said. You had been through enough as is over the last few months – some big scary words from Jonathan Crane couldn’t possibly be any harm, now could they? Especially when you already knew his own game, his own obsession with fear – you simply had to keep from falling into his trap, and everything would be fine. If you could handle Edward, then surely you could handle Crane.
“Very well,” he said. “Does it frighten you? Belonging to a man like Edward?”
“No,” you answered, even though that was a bold-faced lie. Being with Edward did frighten you, but you could not allow Crane to know that.
He raised one brow, an impassive look on his face. “Really? Even after all he’s put you through? Even after every single way he’s made you suffer?”
You paused, letting his words sink in – because you couldn’t deny that you had been through a lot with Edward. A lot. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, there was still that tiny bundle of fear knotted deep in your belly, threatening to rise to the surface. Frowning, you sipped your drink slowly, not breaking eye contact with Crane. His gaze remained just as fixated on you, not giving an ounce of his attention anywhere else.
You lowered your drink back to your lap and said, “Surely it must not bother you to watch people suffer. I’m sure you get off on that sort of thing.”
His head cocked slightly to the side. “Rather crude choice of words, detective.”
“Well, am I wrong? I mean…you put people in horrible, fear-toxin induced experiments for what? For fun? You must find some kind of pleasure in that,” you said.
“I find fear fascinating. It controls every aspect of your life. Every thought, every move you make, every decision,” he said. “You came to this party because you feared what your coworkers would think if you did not show up. You came dressed like…that because you feared making the wrong impression. You drink because you’re afraid if you don’t loosen up, you will not be able to enjoy yourself. Do I need to go on?”
You shifted slightly in your seat, holding back the frustrated scream threatening to tear from your throat, biting down on your tongue. You weren’t sure what, exactly, it was that allowed him to so easily pick you apart and claw your fears from in the inside out – but you knew that every single damn word out of his mouth was true.
But you would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
Instead, you set your drink on the table and leaned forward slightly, resting your chin between two fingers. “And what if I said you were wrong? That I’m not afraid?”
“Then I would call you a liar,” he replied.
“And what are you afraid of, Dr. Crane?” you asked, a bite in your voice now.
“I fear nothing,” he said. “I have mastered my fears long ago. You, however, wear them on your sleeve for the whole world to see.”
You were quiet for a moment, considering his words. You had not realized just how much, perhaps, you did show off your emotions. Leaning back a little further in your seat, you studied him, carefully choosing your next words, refusing to let him get under your skin. You leaned forward a little more, not breaking eye contact.
“Let me ask you this, then,” you said. “Why are you so interested in my fears? There are plenty of other people at this party you could be bothering. So why me?”
“Curiosity,” he answered. “Fear is my specialty. My life’s work. I have spent years studying what makes people afraid, what their darkest fears contain. And you…you exude fear. It’s practically radiating off of you, like a flame in the darkness.”
You held your tongue, trying so very hard to give him an ounce of what you were feeling right now – that his words were cutting deep into you, making a bubbling hot anger burrow under your skin. Instead, you took another sip of your drink, draining the glass.
You met his eyes again. “And what do you think my fears are, Dr. Crane?”
“You’re afraid of being vulnerable,” he answered. “Of being exposed. Of losing control of the carefully crafted image you have built for yourself.” He paused, his head cocking slightly to the side. “And most of all, detective, I think you’re afraid of me.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, at that one notion – and the awful, horrible truth was that he was right. Edward had done many terrible things, but he’d never bathed Gotham completely in a cloud of fear toxin or driven people to madness, or been the man to unmask Batman and cause so much death and destruction like Crane had. Crane was…different.
And he terrified you.
“Did I strike a nerve?” he asked when you said nothing, his eyes slowly scanning every inch of your face. “Your silence speaks volumes. You present yourself to the world as though you are unbothered, but deep down, you fear how people perceive you. And most of all, you’re afraid of what I’m capable of. You’re afraid of what I might do to you?”
“And what might you to do to me, Dr. Crane?” you asked, your voice low. And in that moment – there was nothing and nobody else in the room. It was just you and him, alone, the air sucked from your lungs, a strange bundle of warmth melding together with the fear in your stomach, shooting all the way down to your clit. The sounds of the party drifted into nothing but faded whispers, long forgotten.
“There are many things I could do to you, detective,” he said, his eyes never once breaking from yours, his voice low. “Things that would have you trembling in fear, quaking underneath the effects of my toxin, begging for mercy. Would you like me to tell you some of the things I could do to you?”
“Very well,” you said – because you refused to budge. You refused to show weakness, especially to someone like him. He could try all he wanted, but he would not frighten you, make you run screaming like a child in the night.
“Seeing is much more effective than hearing, now isn’t it?” he asked.
You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes finally pulling away to glance down at his hand – as if steadying yourself for the moment he had a vial of his toxin at the ready – but his hands were completely empty. Your gaze shifted back to him again, and underneath the table, your legs began to tremble out of your control. Fear was a cold knot in your stomach, turning your blood to ice, causing a clamminess to crawl across your skin.
“You’re trembling,” he noted, his gaze lowering slightly. “Is it fear, or something else?”
“I’m just cold,” you said quickly, attempting to brush him off.
“Is that so?” he asked, one of his brows raised in clear disregard for what you said. “Your body is showing signs of clear distress. Dilated pupils. Flushed skin. Or is it not distress you’re feeling, detective, but something…else?”
Shit. How was he so capable of reading you so easily? You narrowed your eyes, anger rushing hot through every limb, spreading like wildfire through your veins – but beyond that, there was a spark of something rippling just under the surface, something dark and wicked stirring to life in your heart, reawakening your darkest fantasies.
“Something akin to arousal?” he continued.
You sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. “That’s a ridiculous insinuation,” you murmured, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.
“Fear and arousal often go hand in hand,” he said, his voice low, smooth.
“Or, perhaps, you’re completely misreading my physiological responses,” you said.
“Ah, yes,” he said, almost with a bored sigh. “And what, pray tell, do you think is causing this…physiological response of yours?”
“Adrenaline,” you answered, quickly. “It makes your heart beat faster. Makes you shake, makes your pupils dilate. That sort of thing.”
“But that’s not what this is, is it, detective?” he asked, raising his brows. “You’re not in any danger. You’re not preparing to flee. No, this is something much more…intimate.”
There was something in the way the word intimate rolled off his tongue, so full of dark possession, that your insides squirmed, that excitement rushed through your veins, molding together with a hot anger burning brightly inside of you.
“I doubt you’re one to talk about the specifics of intimacy, Crane,” you said, finally.
The corner of his mouth quirked upward, burning that flame even brighter inside of you, causing it to stir to life. The way he was looking at you – studying you – as if you were a lab rat, made your skin crawl. But it wasn’t just the way his cold, calculating gaze studied you, it was the way his words dug into your skin, picking you apart piece by never-ending piece. And here you were, finding yourself sucked into his words, into his every display of intelligent superiority, in a way that was not boastful or full of ego – the complete opposite of Edward.
Edward. Shit. Where even was he? You suddenly backed away, looking around the room once more, searching for him – but still, you saw no sign of him. No green suit stood out amongst the sea of black and blues and browns. And instead of going off to find him, you were sitting here in your own little bubble with Jonathan Crane, feeling a pulsing in your clit, a dampening between your thighs – because he was right. So fucking right.
You were completely fucking aroused.
And you were done with this conversation.
Scowling, you quickly stood up. “Thank you for this enlightening conversation, Dr. Crane. But I’m going to find my boyfriend now,” you said. Turning on your heels, you stormed across the room and searched for any sign of Edward, but there was still none.
Groaning under your breath, you made your way back over to the drink table and snatched up another glass of wine, sipping slowly, trying to clear your mind and body of all thoughts of Jonathan Crane. Bastard, you thought. How dare he put you in such a compromising position, make you feel so vulnerable, as if you were on display for the world to see? You took another sip of your drink, relishing in the taste, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you – a different one, an unfamiliar one, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Crane standing behind you, just inches away. Nerves trickled up your spine and you shuddered, that delicious heat once more pooling in your belly at his proximity, at the smell of his cologne, at his cruel gaze, which was once more fixated on you.
Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips: a soft, featherlight touch, but enough to make the breath catch in your throat, a small gasp escape your lips – especially when you felt him brush against your backside.
His lips were suddenly at your ear, “Come with me.”
He glanced over his shoulder at you, and for the first time, you saw the very delicate hint of a smile curved at the edge of his lips. Barely there, but noticeable enough – and there was something in his gaze that made warmth pool in your belly, made your heart thump so quickly you could hardly stand it.
Follow me, his cruel gaze said. But it was not a suggestion. It was a command.
Hesitantly, you set your drink back down, searching the crowd once more for Edward, but you could not find him. You were growing angrier by the second, a hot prickling underneath your skin like you were being stabbed by a hundred knives. Following Crane was a stupid idea, but you needed to put an end to this…whatever this strange attraction was, and you did not want to make a scene here, in front of all of these people. They already thought badly enough of you as is.
Jonathan slipped through the crowd, disappearing out of your view, but you weaved through the sea of people to follow him, coming to one of the quiet halls of the museum. He was already ahead of you, leading the way, and you scowled, stomping after him, fire burning in your veins, turning your blood to molten liquid. He wandered down one corridor, disappearing around one corner, and you quickened your steps – but just as you came around, his hand was suddenly on your wrist, the other at your throat, pushing you gently against the wall. You gasped, a wave of fear washing over you as he pressed you against the glass of an exhibit.
“Ssh,” he said quietly, deep in his voice. “You don’t want the others to hear us, now do you?” His cold, blue eyes studied your face with a strange intensity.
“What game are you playing at, Crane?” you hissed. “If Edward finds out about this—”
“Edward already knows about this,” he said, cutting you off.
You blinked, surprised, taken aback by his words. You sucked in a slow, steadied breath, trying desperately to control your breathing, your heartrate, your fear. “What?”
“I have asked for his permission,” he said lowly, his breath tickling at your skin.
“To do what?” you whispered, terror clawing up your throat.
“To share you,” he answered without hesitation.
If this was any other man, you might have laughed. Might have believed this was some sort of sick joke – but this was no ordinary man. It was Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, and he was not a joking man. Every inch of his expression was passive. Emotionless. Serious.
He was utterly, utterly serious.
“Edward would never share me,” you whispered, feeling hot defiance rise in your belly.
“Perhaps not with any of the other denizens of Gotham,” he said. “But with me…I’m a different matter entirely.”
You couldn’t help it – your jaw dropped open as confusion and terror and all clawed at you at once, digging into your insides, causing that horrible warmth to pool in your stomach, to travel its way down to your aching clit. Being pinned against the wall like this – trapped – it sent you spiraling, in that way that flared to life your darkest desires, fanning the flames of pleasure and excitement and wanton need.
“You don’t believe me?” Jonathan said after a moment. “Perhaps you should ask Edward yourself.” His fingers finally loosened from around your neck, the digits sliding off delicately, taking his time as he let you go. He took one step back and gestured to a private, out of the way office, far from the festivities taking place.
You hesitated, curling your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms. You had every reason to smack him right then and there – but you would not allow him to see your fear, to see how frightened you truly were. If this was true…you wanted to hear it straight from Edward’s own mouth. Turning on your heels, you stormed into the office – and sure enough, you found Edward sitting in the chair, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other in a lazy-like position – the very epitome of a man with too big of an ego. And the boyfriend you kind of wanted to knock over the head right about now.
You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “Edward,” you said, a bite in your voice. “Is what he says true?”
A hazy look filled his eyes, and he smirked. “Yes, detective. Crane is telling the truth. We have…come to an arrangement.”
“What kind of arrangement?” you asked carefully. As the words slipped from your mouth, you glanced back to find that Jonathan had shut and locked the door behind him. Another bolt of fear and excitement rushed through you as a thousand questions rang through your mind. This couldn’t possibly be going where you thought it was going, could it?
“One that involves you, my dear,” Edward replied. “You see, Crane here has taken quite an interest in you. He finds you…how should I put it, fascinating? You know Crane, always needing to study everything around him.” He waved his hand, scoffing under his breath.
“I’m not something to be studied,” you said, angrily.
“Come now, detective,” Jonathan said, stepping forward until he was standing side-by-side with you, his arms crossed behind his back. His gaze roved carefully over you, inch by inch, making your skin crawl with a delicious heat.
“Edward is right. I find you quite fascinating,” he continued, taking a step closer to you. One of his hands snaked out, grasping your chin between two fingers. “There’s something about you that has Edward so trapped under your spell. You have a power over him, a power I can’t explain. And I need to know why. I need to understand it…to taste it. To taste you.”
You shuddered against his touch, the urge to step back all consuming, but when your gaze slid to Edward – it was as if he pinned you there completely, not daring you to budge an inch. As if he wanted you there, in Crane’s grasp, in this very moment, at their mercy. Jonathan’s grip tightened on your chin, forcing you to look back at him.
“You’re not something to be studied, detective,” Crane said. “You’re something to be enjoyed. And Edward here has finally learned to share.”
His words were like lightning through you, sparking to life a powerful heat in your belly, an aching, a desperate need to be consumed. But no words would come out of your mouth, and you stood there in silent horror and awe, completely unable to process what was happening in this moment. You could not believe their boldness – to think how easily they lured you away to have this discussion, to be used as if you were some kind of plaything.
Your gaze flicked to Edward again. You should be enraged. Insulted. But instead, you’re standing here, your mind completely blank of what to do or even say – the only coherent thought you can even come up with is the very real realization that your clit is throbbing, aching, at the very thought of being taken by these two men – these two very dangerous men – and used in whatever way they desire. The very idea that they both were fascinated with you left a fire burning in your belly, stirring awake those dark desires in your heart.
“Is this true, Edward?” you finally managed to ask.
He nodded, slowly. “Admittedly, I would prefer not to share you, but…” He paused, as if choosing his next words carefully. “Crane can be quite persuasive, and I find myself curious to see what the Master of Fear is capable of doing to you. Can he touch you the way I do? Make you cum the way I do? Make you scream his name the way I make you scream mine?”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you shivered at his words – because you can’t help but he just as curious, too. Your gaze strayed back to Crane once more, finding him continuing to study you with a close eye, a curious gaze, as if wondering the same thing Edward was.
You shook your head, scoffing under your breath. “And how long have you been having this discussion behind my back?”
“Long enough,” Crane answered. His grip never lessened on your throat.
Long enough. His words echoed on a loop in your mind. You did not appreciate being spoken about behind your back – and as outraged as you should have been, you could not help but feel just a bit drawn to this situation entirely, to the possibilities that could arise from such an…arrangement. But you were supposed to be with Edward. He was your boyfriend. Something about doing this did not feel right; it felt like a betrayal, in a way. Your gaze flickered back to him, studying his face, but you had come to know Edward well enough that he was completely and utterly serious.
“What if I say no?” you asked.
“If you were going to say no, you would have walked out of this room already, detective,” Crane said. “You would not have followed me into a dark, secluded hallway. You would not have followed me into this room. You would not be here now, allowing me to touch you.” As if to prove his point, his fingers slid down your throat in a smooth motion, once more grasping the question mark pendant draped around your neck. He stroked it with his thumb, but once he let it go, he reached out with two fingers, placing them onto your pulse point.
“Racing heart,” he murmured. “You’re not afraid of us, are you, detective?”
“No,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly. Your fears about being around Edward had faded away into whispers long ago. But…
“Or,” Jonathan continued. “Are you afraid of me?”
The breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening. Because, the truth was right there, staring you right in the face: you were afraid of Jonathan Crane. He terrified you, caused horror to race through you like lightning, to bundle up in a cold knot in your stomach. Finally, you took a step back, needing a moment to distance yourself. You crossed your arms over yourself, shaking your head as another low scoff escaped your mouth. This was an absurd proposition. Asinine. What they were asking…what Edward was asking…
You spun around on your heels, walking away from Jonathan and over to the desk, wearing Edward remained, still watching you carefully. You opened your mouth to say something – anything – any kind of insult or rage-filled words. But nothing came out. Because as angry as you were, you still felt it: the strange, magnetic pull to both of these dangerous men. And as afraid as you were, your own curiosity could not be ignored.
“What are you afraid of, detective?” Jonathan asked, his cool voice filling the quiet room. “Being shunned? Made to feel like our plaything? Losing your precious paramour in the process as another man claims you for himself?”
“Another man,” you said silently, glancing over your shoulder. “Meaning you.”
Jonathan only answered with a sly smile curving at the edge of his lips.
“I know this is quite a lot to ask of you so suddenly,” Edward said, his voice gentle. “But I assure you, detective, nothing will change between us.”
So suddenly, you wanted to say, but held your tongue – as a slow realization washed over you. Over the last few weeks, your sexual tension around Jonathan had been growing more than you realized – perhaps because they’d been planning this moment for some time. The looks Jonathan had given you over the last few weeks, the words he’d spoken – it had all been a part of their plan, and you’d been blind to see it. You glared down at Edward, anger rushing hot through your veins like a wildfire.
Footsteps behind you got your attention, and before you could react, Jonathan was suddenly behind you. You felt his breath on your neck, before one of his hand snaked around your shoulder, once more grabbing at your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Another bolt of worry shot through every limb – but what was worse was the heat that traveled all the way down to your groin, aching, dampening arousal between your thighs.
“I can see it in your eyes, detective,” Jonathan said. “You want this as much as we do. You need this. To be wanted. Needed. Craved.” His breath tickled at your skin, each word out of his mouth making chills run up and down your spine.
Because the goddamn truth was that he was right.
All your life, you’d dreamed of being desired, wanted, needed. Feared being unloved, used, cast aside as nothing. And now, to have two dangerous men wanting you, so much that they were willing to share you…it caused a ripple of delicious heat to pool in your core. It stirred to life all of this wicked desires in your heart, driving you to the brink of madness. And the worst part was that Jonathan Crane had you completely and utterly figured out. It was like he could see straight down into your soul, finding your fears with just one look, and whisper them in your ear, revealing them to you in all their frightening glory.
Angrily, you scowled, yanking your chin from his grasp once more, crossing your arms over yourself. As much as they wanted you to play this game with them, you would not give in so easily – not without understanding the terms of this…arrangement. Slowly, you turned back around, glancing at both of them; they stood there with hungry looks in their eyes, as if waiting for your next move, the next words out of your mouth. You wandered back over to the desk and hoisted yourself onto it, crossing one leg over the other, placing your hands behind you to keep yourself propped up. Jonathan regarded you with a raised brow, as if interested in your next move. Good, you thought. If they could play this game, you could play it, too.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Edward sit up a little straighter from his spot at the desk. You glanced at him, then back at Jonathan; both their eyes were narrowed, full of curiosity, mirroring the same expression of patience and hungry interest.
“Well,” you finally said after a long moment. “What exactly are the terms of this arrangement you two made behind my back?”
Edward pushed back from the desk, quickly standing as he said, “The terms are simple, my dear. I am so generously sharing you with Crane – with your approval, of course. He must ask for my permission if he would like to have you for an evening.”
He took a step closer, reaching forward, capturing your chin between his fingers, running his thumb along your bottom lip in a way that made heat pool in your core. “And you, my dear, are not allowed to play favorites. We both shall have equal access to you – at all times. Whenever we want. How we want. Wherever we want.”
You sucked in a slow, controlled breath, letting his words wash over you as that delicious heat throbbed between your legs. The very idea of being taken by these two men – one who had a hold on your heart, the other you still weren’t sure yet – but the very idea excited you.
And angered you.
You narrowed your eyes, meeting Edward’s gaze. “I’m not a toy to be passed around,” you said, a bite in your voice now.
“Of course not,” Edward said, his thumb now slowly stroking right below your bottom lip with care. “This is an arrangement that will benefit all of us. “Our curiosities will be satisfied, and you shall be quite satisfied, detective.” He smirked, that tricky glint in his eyes gleaming.
You looked away again, your gaze straying somewhere far across the other side of the room. A thousand words hung on your lips, but you could not seem to get them out. You had so many questions, but your mind was drawing a blank, too wrapped up in your own terror and excitement and desire. To be so…needed. Wanted. Desired. By these two men…it alighted a fire within you, awakening so many dark desires in your heart, bringing to life a darkness that resided in the very depths of your soul. You shivered against Edward’s touch, trembling, fear and desire pooling in your stomach, melding together as one.
“Is it fear or desire that makes you tremble so?” Jonathan asked, stepping forward.
“Both,” you answered, because that was the honest truth.
They exchanged a look, and Edward’s hand slipped from your chin. He finally took a step back, disappearing into the dark shadows of the office to lean against the wall and cross his arms, making room for Jonathan to step in front of you now. He studied you with a careful eye, his gaze roaming every inch of your skin.
“Dilated pupils. Flushed skin,” he said quietly, as if more to himself, but his gaze dropped to your chest, pausing there for a moment; you glanced down, realizing that your nipples had hardened, slightly poking through the fabric of your dress.
Jonathan glanced back at you. “Signs of your arousal are clearly evident.”
Your gaze slid from Jonathan back to Edward, who was watching the entire interaction silently, his head cocked slightly to the side. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the blood rushing through your ears, the warmth between your legs – Jonathan was clearly right. You were aroused. You were terrified.
And you were also completely at their mercy.
Your gaze shifted back to Jonathan. “And what exactly do you want out of this, Crane?”
He took another slow, calculated step forward until he was but millimeters from you. Slowly, his hand reached out once more to capture your chin between two fingers, slightly lifting your face to look directly into your eyes.
“I want you,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “But I will not unless you give me permission. Such brutalities are far beneath me. I will only touch you if you say so.”
He was but millimeters away from you, and you hesitated, a sharp breath leaving your lips. You glanced over Jonathan’s shoulder once more, searching for Edward, and he gave you a slow nod. Giving his permission. But if you went down this route, you knew the utter truth: there would be no going back. There would be no way to forget this happened. Edward already had his claws in you, and if you allowed Crane to do the same…there would be no changing that. You would be theirs – both of theirs – completely.
And, perhaps, the truth was that you wanted to be.
You glanced back at Jonathan. “Then take me,” you whispered.
That was all he needed. In an instant, his lips were on yours, crushing, bruising. One of his hands grabbed your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. His other hand snaked up, threading itself in your hair, tugging lightly. His kisses were not gentle – they were rough, possessive, his tongue invading your mouth with almost a brutal possessiveness. You gasped lightly, your tongue meeting his, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as his mouth moved from your lips, across your jaw, down your neck. His lips were rough from scarring, and he smelled of a strange mixture of musk and woods, the scent invading your nose. His teeth nipped at your neck, his tongue snaking out to massage each small bite, as if soothing your flesh. Slowly, testing, you spread your legs slightly, allowing him to nestle himself in between them – and you could already feel the hardness of his own arousal suddenly pressing against your core. You leaned into him, arching your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth and teeth found that sensitive spot on your neck – the one that made you crumble beneath him. You shuddered against him, his body hard and lean – leaner than Edward’s, and you found yourself comparing the way Jonathan kissed you to the way Edward did.
A low rumble escaped Jonathan’s mouth, and his onslaught of kisses continued, working their way across the delicate flesh of your collarbone. He brushed your necklace aside and let his tongue drag across your skin, causing a shudder to pass through you. His tongue was warm, wet, sending a delicious heat rippling across every inch of your body, shooting pleasure all the way down to your clit. You gasped as he brought his lips up the other side of your jaw, as if to savor the other side of your face, his teeth nipping once more at your skin.
Opening your eyes slightly, you found Edward continuing to watch with a strange curiosity in his gaze, his eyes narrowed and focused on the scene at hand. At watching another man touch you, have his way with you – sending another tremble through you, bundling fear deep in your core, tightening in your stomach.
Just then, Jonathan’s hand gripped your chin once more, forcing you to look back at him, his eyes cold and calculating. “Don’t look at him, pet,” he said quietly. “Focus on me. Or are you afraid of what he might be thinking?”
The sharp intake of breath made you tremble again, and you licked your lips before saying, “Yes…I’m afraid.”
“No need to be afraid,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “Fear is good. It reminds you of the dangers that surround you. After all, you’re here with us, aren’t you? You have every right to be afraid.”
You were quiet for a beat – because you were afraid of where this would lead, what would come of it, what Edward would think to watch as you were ravished by another man. But your own curiosity, your own pull towards Jonathan, was too much to bear, too confusing, further drawing you into that darkest part of yourself that you did not want to admit to.
His grip on your chin tightened. “Fear governs everything you do,” he continued. “And it also gives way to more…primal desires, detective. Desires you try to deny yourself. Desires you do not want to admit to, that frighten you. Am I correct?”
“Yes,” you whispered, knowing every word out of his mouth was right.
His cold eyes narrowed, and he backed away slightly, studying you carefully. His cold, cruel gaze was enough to cause your trembling body to tremble even more, to cause panic swelling in your stomach. A part of you desperately wanted to bolt out of this room, to flee, but you were glued to the spot – your desire too great to ignore. You fought the urge to look over at Edward again, despite how great your curiosity was, and kept your eyes fixated on Jonathan instead, watching as his hand snaked up to stroke at your face, in a motion that could be disguised for gentle, but you saw it for what it was: complete control. His hand brushed across your cheek – before suddenly gripping into your hair once more, tangling in your strands, his nails digging slightly into your scalp in that painful, pleasurable sort of way. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his roughness, and you trembled against him.
His eyes roved over you carefully, as if taking every inch of you in, as if trying to figure out what to do with you next. You couldn’t help but wonder how experienced he was, how many men or women he’d been with, what kind of things he was into. You smirked, a heat of desire pulsing in your belly at the way he looked at you with such primal intention.
“Undress,” he finally said, a low command, leaving no room for arguing.
You blinked, a bit taken aback, but your gaze slid to the door. “What if someone—”
“It’s been taken care of,” Edward spoke up. “No need to worry, my dear. No one will be coming into this room to disturb us.”
Your gaze flickered back to Jonathan. His expression was emotionless, unyielding, not giving away anything to what he might be thinking. He was completely and utterly controlled. Fear knotted in your stomach, but with trembling hands, you slipped out of your dress. The cool air brushed across your naked skin, your nipples growing hard; you shimmied out of the dress and let it pool at the bottom of the desk, leaving you in nothing but a lacy green thong that you’d specifically picked out for Edward. The heavy swell of your breasts were revealed for both men to see, and Jonathan’s eyes immediately dropped to your pert, pink nipples. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the dampness of your own arousal between your legs. Every part of you was on high alert, on edge, teetering over the precipice of fear and terror. You had never done this before – never had sex while another man watched, especially if that other man was your own boyfriend, and you were in a room with two of Gotham’s most dangerous men, but that was beside the point.
Slowly, Jonathan reached out, testing the weight of your left breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the nipple gently. You sucked in a soft breath at the small jolt of pleasure that radiated through your breast. His hands were rough, calloused, and he pinched your nipple between two fingers, earning another gasp from you. You trembled at his touch, at the fire his fingers left in their wake across your skin. His eyes were narrowed, studying your reaction, and you titled your head back slightly, arching your back so he had better access to your breasts. He cupped the other breast in his hand, needing and palming at it, his touch growing rougher and more needy by the second. A low whine left your lips, and you closed your eyes, relaxing into his touch – but just as you did, you felt his hand at your throat again.
“Eyes on me, pet,” he said, and your eyes snapped open, another jolt of fear radiating throughout your body. You met his gaze again, studying the emotionless expression on his face, as his fingers trailed downward, carefully grazing down your stomach to the hem of your thong.
He glanced at you again, then back down, before slowly lowering to his knees. Your breath caught in your throat, and you shuddered as his gaze never left yours. Your breaths were shallow, uncertain, nerves and fear writhing in your belly like a parasite. Slowly, he leaned in, snaking his tongue out to delicately brush across your inner thigh – only inches away from where you most wanted him to be. His tongue ran lines down your inner thigh, tracing in circular patterns, before reaching back up to the bend of your leg – and then, suddenly, he bit down.
You gasped at the sudden pain, jolting slightly, trembling in both pain and pleasure at the sharpness of his teeth. But as quickly as the bite came, so did his tongue once more, swirling around the bite as if to soothe it. You glanced at Edward once more, finding him still standing there, watching with a curious, lustful gaze in his eye. You glanced down at his groin, noticing the hardness of his own erection in the confines of his trousers, and your insides warmed at the idea of him being turned on by this entire interaction – even if there was a lingering jealousy in his gaze. You smirked slyly, spreading your legs a little further for Jonathan to have access to. He glanced up at you from in between your legs, before rising back up. The look in his eyes was full of a cold, cruelness to them, not a hint of warmth in his cloudy gaze – and just that look made you tremble more, made the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. You were sure if he could devour you whole, he would.
Suddenly, his hand shot out once more, and his hands tangled in your hair once again, fingers digging tightly in. “Show me how you pleasure yourself, detective.”
His words took you aback, but your mouth fell open slightly in surprise. You hesitated, but slowly reached in between your legs. Pushing your thong aside slightly, you dove two fingers into your own wetness. With your other hand, you used one finger to swirl around your clit in slow, meticulous motions, causing a bolt of pleasure to shudder through you. It surged through your thighs, down to the tips of your toes, across every inch of your skin, and your mouth dropped open silently as you continued to fuck yourself with your own fingers. He watched silently, before he leaned forward, his lips at your ear.
“Does it frighten you, detective? To have two men watch you while you pleasure yourself?” he whispered lowly. “To see you completely unraveled, vulnerable, at our mercy?”
You shuddered at his words, trying to fight the fear coursing through your veins. Trying to keep some shred of dignity you still had left. As if in answer, your gaze flickered past Jonathan and over to Edward, who still remained bathed in the shadows, watching with strange look in his eyes.
“Don’t look at him,” Jonathan barked out, his voice low and cruel. “Focus on me, pet.”
Your eyes snapped back to him, and a low gasp escaped your lips as ripples of pleasure bundled underneath your skin. Every inch of you was on fire, your brain going fuzzy from the pleasure of your own fingers working their magic against you in just the way you liked. You could feel yourself builder higher and higher towards a release – and having two men watch you made it all the more sweeter.
Jonathan reached forward, snaking his hand through your hair once more, tightening his fingers at your scalp. You gasped as he pulled onto the strands, tilting your head back slightly, his cold gaze never leaving yours for an instant.
“Is it the thrill of being watched that makes you tremble like this?” he asked lowly, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble. “Or the danger?”
The only answer you gave was a soft gasp. Heat flushed across your skin. Here you were: propped up on this desk, your legs spread wide, revealing the most vulnerable part of yourself for both men to see. Wetness coated your fingers, and you pumped two fingers in and out of yourself, gasping in tandem at the way your other finger swirled around your clit. Pleasure bundled in your stomach, tightening in your abdomen, knots of pure ecstasy rising higher and higher with each stroke, each thrust, each motion.
Jonathan studied you carefully, his eyes roving over every inch of your body, pausing to watch you fuck yourself. He showed no signs of emotion across his face, and you couldn’t even tell if he was enjoying watching this. Your fingers began to slow slightly, wondering if he was growing bored with this, but his cold voice filled the room once more.
“Does it scare you, detective?” he asked, leaning forward, his lips just brushing the shell of your ear. “To be so completely at the mercy of two men who are watching you right now?”
His words sent another rippled of fear down your spine. It tightened in your stomach, molding together with your pleasure, causing your heart to beat like a wild animal against your ribcage. Sweat beaded on your brow as your entire body flushed from head to toe, sending a shiver across your skin. Your breath quickened at his question, your fingers slowing their movements as you considered his question—
“I did not say you could stop,” Jonathan said, his voice a low command.
The words out of his mouth made you pause for a millisecond, before you resumed the work of your fingers: pumping in and out of yourself, swirling your finger around your clit. You leaned back a little more against the table, but his fingers in your hair did not let up, only tightened harder, sending a small ripple of pain across your skull. You were completely at his mercy, just his words enough to edge you closer to the brink. Your fear melding together with the pleasure in a strange kind of concoction – somehow enhancing your pleasure in a way you’d never experienced before. You snuck another glance at Edward, and he stood back, his eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line. But that look – of knowing your own boyfriend was watching another man do this to you, it sparked another bolt of fear down your spine, and yet at the very same time, it turned on you to heights you’d never experienced before. Jonathan’s hands released from around your hair, and he stepped back slightly, just enough to take in the full sight of you in your needy, wanton mess.
“Find your release, detective,” he said. “But keep your eyes on me as you do.”
You nodded, barely, breathless as your eyes found his cold, cruel gaze once more. He was staring at you as if you were a bug under his feet, something to be squashed entirely. Fear knotted in your belly, creeping up your spine – but you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers, quickening your pace as your climax teetered right on the edge – and suddenly, the little bundle of pleasure grew higher and higher – before exploding throughout your body. You gasped, crying out as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure coursed through your body. Your legs and hips bucked as you continued to work your fingers against yourself, chasing the rest of your high. But as the sensations trickled away, you finally removed your hands and relaxed against the desk, sucking in slow, deep breaths. Every inch of your skin was on fire, and a flush crept across your skin. You raised your eyes to him, looking back and forth between the two men, feeling completely exposed and raw and vulnerable. You’d never…touched yourself in front of two men before, not like this. Not when there were two pairs of eyes to look at you.
“Very good, detective,” Jonathan said quietly, but his voice held no ounce of praise. Just that patented cold, calculating nature to it. “Now. On your knees.”
You sat up a bit, sucking in a breath, a funny feeling at what he wanted next arising within you. You fought against looking at Edward once more, despite your every instinct screaming to, and slowly, you pushed yourself off the desk and lowered to your knees in front of Jonathan. Your knees knocked together, your entire body trembling. It wasn’t like you’d ever given a man a blowjob before – but something about this…about giving it to a man like Jonathan while Edward watched…it was frightening. Terrifying.
And exhilarating, all at the same time.
Jonathan was quiet as he reached down, undoing the buckle of his belt. With only a few smooth moves of his deft fingers, he slipped his cock from his pants: engorged, glistening with precum at the tip. Your eyes widened at the sight. He wasn’t quite as long as Edward, but he was a bit girthier, and thin, throbbing veins ran along his shaft. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your body prickling with heat as you gazed up at him.
“Open your mouth,” he said, another command. “And let me in.”
Your mouth opened slightly, a moment of hesitation, before you opened your jaw a little wider. His tip approached you carefully, before his cockhead slid into your mouth. Inch by inch, he slid himself inside of you. You wrapped your mouth around him, breathing through your nose as you massaged the underside of his member with your tongue. One of his hands came to tighten itself in your hair again, his nails digging into your scalp. He tasted of salt and sweat and skin, a brown patch of curls poking through the confines of his pants. He filled your mouth completely, and he slid in and out of you with careful strokes.
“Detective,” he said, almost a groan. “I believe you know what to do, yes?”
You nodded, gazing up at him while he remained in your mouth. Using your other hand, you wrapped it around his shaft, pumping slowly in combination with your mouth and tongue. A low groan escaped his lips as you worked against his length, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly at the intrusion, but breathed through your nose. Soft groans escaped his lips, and when you looked up again, you found his head tilted back slightly, still gazing down at you, watching your every move. You moaned softly around his member, taking him all the way in, over and over again. His fingers tightened in your hair as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and you smirked, watching him come undone. It was quite a sight to behold: the Master of Fear with his head titled back, losing himself to the pleasure you offered. You moaned against his length again, taking him deeper, faster, and he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth in tandem slowly and meticulously, every movement of his precise and controlled. Your core warmed, arousal dampening in between your legs, and your gaze flickered to Edward, still standing in the shadows with a narrowed, lustful gaze. Warm pleasure pooled in your core, and you fought the urge to reach down and touch yourself again, too busy giving Jonathan the pleasure he so craved at this very moment.
Just as you began to quicken your pace, he suddenly pulled back, slipping himself from your mouth. You glanced up at him, a bit surprised at how he’d pulled away, and a bout of disappointment rippled through you. His member was coated in your saliva, glistening in the light. You sat back on your knees, his taste lingering on your tongue.
Jonathan reached down, placing a hand across the top of your head, trailing his fingers down your cheek and to your chin, where he lifted your head up slightly. “That pretty mouth of yours has certainly had a bit of practice, now hasn’t it?” He glanced at Edward for a moment.
Edward’s smirk grew, his lustful gaze twinkling. “Jealous, Crane?”
A bolt of pleasure knotted in your stomach again, and a sense of pride swelled inside of you, as if happy to be pleasing Edward by doing this – even if this was sucking off another dangerous man, one who made you tremble with fear. You weren’t sure what Crane was going to do next, but that fear further increased inside of you, balling into a cold, hard knot at the center of your ribcage. But more than that, you feared how Edward was thinking, feeling, if he was going to lash out in a jealous rage and take you for his own.
“Look at me,” Jonathan said again, forcing your eyes back to him. His head cocked slightly to the side, as if studying you with cruel intention. “Do you fear what he might be thinking? That you’re here, servicing me instead? Or…do you wish it was him in my place?”
You can’t help how much your trembling, a cold chill brushing across your naked flesh. Your teeth are practically chattering with the fear – and you can’t even bring yourself to answer him, to make your terror known. But you can see it in his eyes: how much he’s enjoying your fear, your terror, and you can’t pull your eyes away.
His grip tightened on your chin. “Answer me,” he said.
“I…” you struggled to find the words. “I…I’m afraid of what he’s thinking. I’m afraid he’s going to look at me like…” You paused, the words stilling in your mouth, heavy on your tongue. Like I’m nothing but his plaything. Like a whore. Like a toy to be passed around.
Jonathan quirked a brow, seeming to understand what you were going to say. But his hand finally dropped from your chin, and he took a step back, tucking himself into his pants. “Like what?” he asked, a cruel smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.
Great. He was going to make you say it. Of course he was.
“Like I’m a whore,” you whispered. “Like I’ll be…tainted after this. Like he won’t want me anymore.” The words tumbled out of you, and it took you a moment to realize you were shaking, your fears bundling deep in your stomach, spreading a coldness through your limbs.
“Tainted?” Jonathan asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. “My dear, you were tainted by Nigma the very moment you let his cock enter you. The moment you spread your legs for him, every inch of you was poisoned by his narcissist, egotistical nature.”
Edward scoffed under his breath, a sound of disgust. “I’m sure that speech will really get her going, Crane,” he said.
Jonathan glanced back at Edward. “Why don’t we see, hmm?” His gaze shifted back to you once more. “Back on the desk, pet. And remove that silly little thing.” He nodded to your thong, now soaked through.
Nodding, you stood and slowly slipped out of the thong, stepping out of it one leg at a time. You let it fall onto the floor atop your dress, heat burning your cheeks, spreading through every inch of your flesh. Your skin was on fire with desire and terror and everything in between. You hoisted yourself back onto the desk, using your arms to prop yourself up behind you.
Jonathan met your gaze once more. “Spread your legs.”
His command was not gentle. There was no warmth to his voice, no seduction, just a pure, calculated coldness. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you listened, spreading your thighs apart, revealing your most intimate spot. His gaze rove over your naked body, before landing on your womanhood. He took a step closer, resting one hand on your thigh, his fingers digging in. With the other hand, he tentatively reached forward, stroking at your wet folds with a curious carefulness. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for what he might do next; he brushed aside your folds, toying with them, before he slid two fingers into you. A soft breath escaped your lips as his long digits filled you, and slowly, he pulled them back – and then inserted them again, repeating the motion over and over again in a slow manner.
“So wet,” he mumbled, as if he was making an observation and you were an experiment. He continued the slow motions of his fingers, in and out, in and out, and you tilted your head back slightly, soft gasps escaping your lips.
“Touch yourself, detective,” he said, his voice once more a command. “I want to see you find your release on my fingers.”
You didn’t hesitate – you were too caught up in this, in the heat and desire, to argue. Your finger immediately found your clit, and you began stroking yourself in the motion you enjoyed. As you did, his fingers began to pump out of you harder, faster, at a furious pace, fucking you. You gasped at the sensation of his fingers and you stroking your clit – together in tandem, slowly bundling pleasure in your core. Sweat beaded down your brow and soft gasps and moans escaped your lips out of your control. You titled your head back, not daring to shut your eyes, fearing Jonathan would simply command you to keep them open. But as he fucked you with his fingers, your legs began to tremble and shake, your whole body tightening with the pleasure he gave you. Your gasps grew louder as you felt that pleasure building inside of you, rocking your core, igniting a fire in your belly. God, you were close – so fucking close – and just as you swirled your finger around your clit again – that band inside you snapped, releasing a wave of ecstasy across your skin. A loud cry escaped your lips, and Jonathan’s fingers only continued to work their magic inside of you. Your fingernails dug into the table as you bucked your hips into his hand, chasing the finality of your orgasm.
As the last of your climax washed over you, you slowly removed your hand, resting it atop the desk, panting as his fingers came to a slow, before he removed them entirely. Jonathan brought his two fingers up, studying the wet sheen coating his fingers, before he opened his mouth – and he licked his fingers clean. The motion made your insides clench and tighten with another bolt of heat, watching with desire as he licked himself of your juices. Your mouth fell open slightly, and your skin prickled with a delicious desire, a desperation to continue this. His eyes never broke from yours as he licked each digit clean, his eyes roaming over you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over at Edward, who continued to watch with that lustful, jealous gaze burning in his blue eyes. The room was so quiet, all you could hear was the thundering of your heart beating like a rabid animal against your breastbone.
Edward took a step forward, a scoff escaping his lips. “Making her work for it, Crane? The least you could is use your own mouth. Here, why don’t I show you, since you can’t even make her cum properly.”
The breath caught in your throat as you glanced between both men, a bundle of heat stirring within your core. Jonathan glanced at Edward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but he stepped aside and said, “Be my guest, Edward.”
Smirking, Edward approached you, wandering over as he studied you, his eyes roving over every inch of your body. His gaze was full of desire, and you noted the obvious erection pressing against the confines of his pants.
“Edward,” you whispered, but he cupped your face in between your hands as he shushed you, pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was passionate, greedy, as if a clear display of his ownership over you. Like even though he had agreed to share you tonight, you still belonged completely to him.
As he pulled away, his hands dropped down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he pulled them apart eagerly and lowered to his knees. In an instant, his mouth was on your clit, sucking gently, and you gasped, shuddering at the sensation of his tongue and mouth working against your overly sensitive clit. With two fingers, he inserted them into you, curving them, until he found your G-spot, stroking against the sensitive spot. A low whine escaped your lips as you tilted your head back, practically melting against his mouth, losing yourself to the pleasure he offered. Stars danced in your vision, and your entire body trembled with need and heat – but you were so preoccupied, lost in the feel of Edward’s tongue lapping against your clit, that you didn’t realize Jonathan walked around the side of the desk, coming up behind you.
You felt his breath suddenly at your neck, and he brushed your hair aside, exposing the left side of your neck. Jonathan’s lips were at your ear, his voice a cruel, cold whisper, “Do you fear being at our mercy, detective?” he asked.
As he spoke, his fingers pinched at your nipples, tugging lightly on the swollen bud. You gasped, jerking slightly into Edward’s mouth, but his grip on your thighs tightened, digging his fingers in as he continued to work you with his mouth and tongue. Jonathan rolled the soft bud of your nipple between two fingers, playing with it, twisting lightly. Another soft gasp escaped your lips as your head fell back further, resting against his shoulder.
“Knowing that you’re completely powerless to stop us?” he continued, his breath tickling your skin. “Powerless to the way your body responds to us?”
A low whine escaped your lips. Your brain was a fog of complete pleasure, all thoughts vanished somewhere far away, where you may never find them again. Edward’s fingers moved at a furious pace inside of you as his tongue continued to lick at your clit in slow, meticulous strokes. Pleasure bundled in your core, spreading a wildfire across your skin. You couldn’t form any words, any thought, any care other than drowning in the way Edward fucked you with his tongue while Jonathan played with your breasts, toying at your nipples, his breath hot in your eat. His other hand grabbed at your chin, his fingers trailing upwards towards your mouth.
“Open,” he said, a sharp command.
You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth, and he stuck his first two fingers inside. You could taste your own wetness on his fingers, sweet.
“Suck,” he said.
You closed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue along the long, dexterous digits, continuing to taste your own juices on his fingers. His other hand continued to palm at your breast, twisting your nipples in a painful, yet pleasurable way that made you gasp around his fingers. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his hand resting once more around your throat, and he squeezed lightly. A bolt of fear ran down your spine, melding together with the pleasure growing and bundling like a tightening rubber band in your core, threatening to snap, to make you come undone for a third time.
Jonathan looked into your eyes; his own were dark and clouded, filled with that same cold cruelty, as if you were nothing but his own toy to play with. His grip on your throat tightened, and the pleasure in your clit only surged higher. With one hand, you reached forward, gripping your hand tightly into Edward’s hair, urging him to continue as you arched your back, beckoning your soaking cunt further into his mouth. He continued, eagerly sucking on your clit now, and you felt that little bundle of pleasure grow – before it burst completely.
A low cry escaped your lips as your whole body wracked against his mouth, hot-white ecstasy surging through your entire body. You cursed under your breath as your body shook and writhed, your orgasm washing over you, making your toes curl. You tugged at Edward’s hair, whispering his name, losing yourself as you relaxed against Jonathan’s chest, crying out. But just as quickly as it came, the pleasure began to wane. Edward pulled away after a moment, gazing up at you, his lips coated in your wetness. He smirked as he stood up, looking rather pleased with himself.
His eyes flickered to Jonathan. “See, Crane? I didn’t hear her crying out your name.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, and you swallowed, trying to gain your composure. Heat bundled in your womanhood, a pleasurable sensation tingling at your clit; your whole body felt spent and worn, and sweat beaded down your forehead, between the valley of your breasts.
Jonathan made a sound of amusement. “No need to compete, Edward. I’m sure your little toy has enjoyed both of us. Isn’t that right, pet?” He squeezed at your throat again.
Your eyes snapped open, and you looked between them, unable to find the words as you continued to try and catch your breath.
“Well?” Jonathan asked, raising a brow, an expectant look on his face.
“Yes,” you whispered, struggling to find your voice.
“But who did you enjoy more?” Edward asked, raising his own brows. You could see the look in his eyes – the desperation for your approval, for you to choose him.
Well, you had to admit, there was something more pleasurable about him using his tongue instead of making you do it yourself. His question caught you off guard, but you couldn’t help the sly smile that curved at the corners of your mouth. Meeting his eyes, you said, “You, Edward. I enjoyed you more.”
“Ha! Take that, Crane!” Edward cried, smiling triumphantly.
A laugh threatened to bubble up out of your chest, but you swallowed it down. Jonathan made a sound, almost of disapproval, and his fingers only dug further into your throat, making you squirm. It was a little painful, just enough to cause you to tremble in fear, but not enough to frighten you completely. You just felt the tips of his nails grazing against your soft skin, threatening to scrape against your flesh.
Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. “Such a naughty pet, playing us against each other…is that anyway to behave?”
You pursed your lips. A thousand words hung on your tongue, but you couldn’t help yourself – you were in too deep, too far gone with pleasure and lust and desire to think about anything else other than what was happening right now, in this very room, with these two men. They offered you something you’d never been given before: pleasure and attention like you’d never had, never seen, as they worshipped you like you were something to be cherished.
But you couldn’t help the bratty remark that left your lips, “It is when you two decided to go behind my back and make this little arrangement,” you said, quietly, voice barely a breath.
That made a low chuckle rumble from Edward’s throat. “Fair enough. But now I believe you’re just being a naughty little tease, aren’t you, detective?”
“Maybe,” you replied, your smirk growing. You couldn’t help it – the very idea of being here with both of these dangerous men, who both wanted you…it was terrifying and exciting all the same, and a part of you wanted to see just how much you could push their buttons.
It was Jonathan’s turn to let out a sound of amusement, as his lips reached the shell of your ear once more, his tongue snaking out to brush across your ear, making you tremble as he said, “On the couch now, pet.”
Your gaze flickered to the other side of the room, where there was a small couch resting in the corner. Edward took a step back, helping you to your trembling feet, as you wandered over to the couch. You felt the dampness between your thighs, and your breasts hung with a heavy swell, your whole body flushed, nipples pert and pink.
“Sit,” Jonathan said. Another sharp command.
You nodded, turning back to face them, and you sunk onto the couch. Just as you did, Jonathan walked forward; he got down onto his knees and grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide, once more revealing your wet cunt to him. You gasped slightly as his nails dug into your flesh, and he glanced up at you.
“Now, pet,” he said. “I want you to stay focused. No getting distracted now.”
As he spoke, you watched Edward unzip his own trousers, pulling his own engorged, swollen cock from his pants. Your breath hitched in your throat as another wave of desire passed over you, making you shudder. Edward took a step closer, holding his shaft in hand, as he gave himself a few slow, measured strokes. But before you could say anything, Jonathan’s mouth was suddenly at your clit now, sucking the swollen, over sensitive bud.
“Fuck,” you cursed out, jolting back, but his hands dug further into your thighs to keep you still. He glanced up at you, his eyes cold and cruel, the warning within them clear.
Your gaze shifted back to Edward again; his cock was swollen, precum dripping from the red tip. You immediately opened your mouth, greedy, and grabbed onto his shaft, taking his head into your mouth. You licked at his head while swallowing him as deep as you could go – but at the same time, Jonathan continued to lap at your clit like a starved animal, greedy and sloppy, his tongue working overtime. Small bursts of pleasure bundled in your core, alighting a fire in your belly, and your already sensitive clit was at it’s peak. Edward tasted of salt and skin, and you groaned as Jonathan sucked on your clit. A soft curse escaped Edward’s lips as he titled his head back, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair, pulling tight on the strands.
You pulled back for air, a low curse escaping your own lips, “Fuck…”
Just as you stopped, so did Jonathan. He pulled back slightly, glancing up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. “I believe I didn’t tell you to stop, yes?”
“I—” But before you could get a word out, one of his hands came up and smacked at your clit. You yelped in pain and pleasure, too overstimulated to think straight.
“Continue,” Jonathan said. There was no warmth in his voice.
With just that one command, his mouth latched onto your clit again, and you took Edward back into your mouth. You worked him with your tongue and hand, groaning and moaning around his cock in tandem with the way Jonathan sucked and tongued at your clit. Heat ignited inside of you, burning like a wildfire in your belly, spreading through your every vein and muscle, clouding your every thought. Jonathan’s fingers entered you slowly, pumping in an out of you slowly, fucking you, and you pulled back for air again, gasping, a low moan escaping your lips – but once more, he smacked at your clit, and you cried out. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin and up your throat, burning your cheeks.
“She likes it when you smack her ass,” Edward said, rolling his eyes at Jonathan. Smirking, he grabbed onto you, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You held your breath as you braced yourself against the couch, and for a moment, all you felt was air – before Edward’s hand came down in a swift smack on your left ass check. You cried out, gasping, as the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room.
A ripple of delicious heat bundled in your core, and you held back your smile. There was something so naughty about being punished like this – being punished between them. Jonathan gripped your chin, turning your head slightly, and you realized he’d pulled his own cock from the confines of his pants, stroking himself now. You greedily took him into your mouth next, tasting the familiarity of skin and salt and sweat. Edward’s lips and fingers found themselves once more at your dripping hole, lapping at your clit, fucking you with his fingers. Another low groan escaped your lips as you felt Edward’s fingers curl inside of you, finding every delicious spot of pleasure that made you moan against Crane’s cock. Jonathan stared down at you, showing no sign of emotion on his face as you took him as deep as you could, almost gagging in the process. As you pulled back for air, you gasped, trying to fill your deprived lungs of oxygen – but the hesitation was enough, and you felt a second swift smack to your ass.
“Ah!” you cried out, shuddering at the pain radiating through your ass cheek. You let out a soft whine, before your mouth found Jonathan’s cock once more. This time, he began thrusting his hips slightly, using your mouth as if it was his own personal fuck toy.
You groaned around his cock again, tightening your hands into the couch, as Edward sucked on your swollen, sensitive bud, furiously pumping his fingers in and out of you. But just as you felt that bundle of pleasure building inside of you, Jonathan pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. At the same time, Edward paused his own movements, one of his hands gently gliding over the smooth slope of your ass in a comforting, soothing motion. You sucked in air, nerves tightening in your belly, wondering just what they had in store next. Edward slipped away from you, rising to his own feet, his swollen cock hanging in front of him. You watched as Jonathan reached into his suit coat and pulled out a condom from his pocket. He quickly ripped the foil, and rolled the condom onto his cock, until it was at the base of his shaft, where a soft patch of brown curls was. When he looked back at you, you averted your gaze, almost shyly, knowing what was coming next. Jonathan walked over to the couch, positioning himself behind you, one knee resting on the couch while his other leg steadied himself. He rested one hand on your hip, gently trailing along the curve of your ass, before he gripped tightly, nails digging in. You hissed between your teeth, a soft moan of pleasure escaping your lips as the pain made way for pleasure and heat. And that’s when you felt it – the head of his cock pushing into you, slowly, as he teased himself against your folds.
“Beg, detective,” he said, another order. Another cruel command. “Beg for it, pet.”
You were trembling now, bracing yourself, fingers digging into the couch cushions. You felt his body hovering over yours, warmth radiating off his skin, his breath heavy and ragged. You could just feel all the raw, primal energy coiled tightly inside of him, waiting to be unleashed upon you. There was no room for refusal in his authoritative, animalistic tone, as if he was barely containing himself any longer. Fear erupted in your core, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh and a chill to creep up the back of your neck. There was something about the change of tone in his voice, how low it had dropped, that made your insides coil with terror. You glanced up to find Edward taking his place at your front, his cock just at your mouth, awaiting you to take him back in and suck him off.
Jonathan teased the tip of his cock at your entrance again. “Come now, pet,” he said, almost a cruel purr. “You want this, don’t you? To be needed and craved and wanted by both of us at the same time?”
“….yes,” you whispered, almost choking out the word. “Please, please fuck me…”
“Say my name,” Jonathan said, his lips at your ear, body hovering over yours.
“Jonathan,” you whispered. “Jonathan please…” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling his fingers digging tightly into your hips.
“Not that name,” he hissed, tightening his grip.
You paused, feeling the breath knock from your lungs as you realized exactly what he wanted. Slowly, you peeled your eyes open, and you whispered that name he was so desperate to hear, “Please…Scarecrow, please…”
With just that one word, a deep sound of satisfaction rumbled out of his mouth – and he thrust into you. You gasped, crying out at how easily he filled you, how full he made you feel.
You felt his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “Good girl.” A sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, trembling, as his hands roamed over you, before he grabbed onto your hips again. He pulled out slowly – almost completely – before slamming back into you again. You cried out at the thickness of him, at how he took you with an unrestrained desire. He slammed into you again and again, and you glanced up to find Edward watching, holding his cock in his hand; his gaze dropped to you, and you opened your mouth, allowing him to push his cock into your mouth. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to buck his hips into your mouth as Jonathan fucked you from behind. Your mind went completely blank as you were fucked relentlessly – you could think of nothing but their mouths and tongues and hands and cocks – completely filling you with pleasure, making you see stars. Edward bucked his hips into your mouth, and you breathed through your nose, trying to control your breathing. Low grunts escaped Jonathan’s lips as he slammed his hips into you, rutting into you with the desperation of a man chasing his own release. With each thrust, he filled you completely, slamming right into that spot inside of you. The sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room, melding together with each gasp and grunt and groan. The sounds of pleasure out of their mouths was like music to your ears, filling you with your own satisfied pleasure at knowing you were the cause of their undoing’s, that you had turned these men into such messes. You were the very reason they were here, wanting you, needing you, craving you, desiring you – and in that moment, you never wanted it to end. The couch creaked with each movement, each thrust, and you felt Jonathan’s balls slapping against your ass while Edward’s slapped against your face. They both grabbed at you, pawing at you with almost a primal need, as if they couldn’t get enough of you – as if their own obsessions with you were growing more dangerous, more unbridled, more desperate.
And somehow, someway, you began to feel it in return. A desperation for both of them, to be at their mercy, to be used like their own plaything and toy. You gasped around Edward’s cock again as Jonathan continued to fuck you, his hips bucking into you, and you felt yourself spiraling out of your own control, out of whatever shred of sanity you had left. Jonathan hissed between his teeth, slowing his thrusts, now taking you deeper, pushing himself all the way inside of you. Edward pulled out of your mouth enough for you to get air, sucking in a deep breath, and you hung your head; it was taking every ounce of your control to keep yourself propped up on your hands and knees, to keep yourself from falling into a heap of pleasure and exhaustion. The room was thick with hot tension and desire, a heavy heat radiating across every inch of your sweat, flushed skin. It was as if their silent agreement extended into each other, as if they were one mind, using you in tandem, taking what they wanted from you.
Edward shoved his cock into your mouth again, and you swallowed with greedily, sucking him off, licking your tongue up and down his shaft. He bucked his hips into your mouth and grabbed onto your breasts, fondling them, pinching and pulling at your nipples. You felt his thrusts suddenly become more sloppy, more desperate, and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as he came – spilling his seed down your throat. A loud groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. You swallowed his cum, feeling some of it dribble down your mouth as the rutting of his hips stilled as deep into your mouth as he could go. The bitter taste of his seed filled your mouth, and you swallowed as much of him as you could before he pulled out. His cock was covered in a mix of his own release and your saliva, and he sat back, gasping, trying to gain his composure, a sheen coating across his forehead.
It took you a moment to realize Jonathan had paused his thrusting, as if to allow Edward to finish, before he resumed. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back, his teeth nipping at your ear as he hissed, “Does it frighten you, detective? To be taken by the Scarecrow?”
His words made you tremble, and a low gasp escaped your lips. His words were possessive and dark, like he was staking a claim over you, letting you know that you were his just as much as you were Edward’s. You couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence, too caught up in the way his cock continued to buck in and out of your dripping, wet cunt.
“Or does it excite you?” he continued. “Knowing you belong to both of us?”
In response, all you could give was a low whine, a gasp, and you squeezed your eyes shut. His words made you tremble, made your skin prickle with delicious heat. His words seemed to wrap around you, blanketing you in the fear and realization of what you were doing – and who you were doing it with – but at this moment, you didn’t even care.
“Answer me, pet,” he purred.
“Yes!” you gasped out, cursing under your breath once more as he pounded into you with a relentless frenzy. “Yes – fuck…please…”
“Good girl,” he whispered again. His hand loosened from your hair, traveling down to the base of your neck, where he gripped tightly. With a careful grip, he forced your head down, burying your face into the couch cushion. You gasped, gazing up at Edward as he watched, his cock now softening and hanging limp. You gritted your teeth, and with one final thrust, Jonathan groaned low and deep in his throat as he shoved himself as far into you as he could go. You felt his cock twitch, and warmth fill the end of the condom inside of you. You collapsed onto the couch, utterly spent, unable to move. Slowly, you felt Jonathan slip himself out of you, leaving you feeling empty.
“Such a good girl, detective,” Edward murmured. “Taking us both so well.” There was thick, dark satisfaction laced in his voice.
His words made your heart flutter with pride, as if you’d done something so good and well for them, satisfied them both, alighting a desperation inside of you that you didn’t even know you wanted. You laid there for a moment, trying to adjust to the afterglow and the mix of pleasure and pain swirling inside of you, trying to regain some sanity over the moment. You felt Jonathan shift behind you, and when you glanced back, he stood up. The condom was filled at the tip with white cum, and he wandered away, off towards a garbage can on the other side of the room. A quiet stillness filled the room, but the air was still heavy with tension.
“Are you all right?” Edward asked as Crane cleaned himself up.
“I’m…okay,” you whispered, trying to regain your composure. With Edward’s help, you lifted yourself up. Every part of your body was spent and sweaty, and you maneuvered yourself into a sitting position. You still tasted Edward’s cum on your tongue.
The moment almost didn’t feel real now that it was over. There was a strange absence inside of you now as you tried to register what you’d done, and the new dynamics between the three of you now. Slowly, you ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out the tangles. An embarrassed flush crept along your skin, and you looked down at your shaky, trembling legs. There was a part of you that was absolutely excited over what just happened – and just as equally terrified by the encounter, too.
A moment later, you finally lifted your eyes to see that both Edward and Jonathan had tucked their cocks back into their pants. You found Jonathan reaching down to gather up your thong and dress, and he approached you, holding them out for you. You mumbled a quick thank you, before Edward helped you to your feet, giving you the space to shimmy back into your clothes. As you did, you felt both their eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the little bruises and teeth marks in your skin at their touches. A rumble of satisfaction erupted deep in your core, and you couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across your lips.
“Well,” you said, once you were dressed. “So…that happened.”
Edward chuckled deep in his throat. “Yes, detective, it did. Now, perhaps we should get you home, yes?”
You shot him a look, but nodded. You were desperate for a shower to wash off the sweat, but your gaze flickered back to Jonathan for a quick moment. He straightened out his suit coat and adjusted his tie, appearing as if this entire interaction had never happened at all.
“Until next time, detective,” Jonathan said, his voice dark and possessive. He turned on his heels and opened the door of the office, stepping back out into the hall.
You followed after him, but before you could step forward, Edward’s hand gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin. He lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Just because I’ve agreed to share you with Crane doesn’t make you any less mine, do you understand?”
“Yes,” you murmured, a tingle creeping up your spine.
“Good,” he replied. Then he let you go and gave your ass a gentle smack. You shot him a look, smirking, but stepped into the hall. Edward followed you and shut the office door behind him. Quietly, the three of you walked back down the hall, an odd tenseness filling the air between the three of you, too many unspoken words dangling in the air.
But as you came back towards the party, you noticed Commissioner Cash peek his head out, searching both ways down the hall before his eyes landed on you. “Detective,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I was wondering where you’d run off to. These two aren’t giving you any trouble, are they?” He glanced between Edward and Jonathan with suspicion in his eyes.
You smiled. “Not at all, Commissioner. Not at all.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
61 notes · View notes
buggyboba · 2 months ago
Text
⁺˚☽ Ꭺᏼꮻꮜꭲ ꮇꭼ⁺˚☾⁺
You know I realized I never did a full-blown about me that I can use as a pinned post and sort of hub for everything. I’m not very good at them, but we’ll make do. Also, I want everyone to congratulate me on being the dumbest bitch in the room, I finally figured out the 'small' text stuff....jfc.
Hello! I’m Buggy, She/They, disaster, well over 18, Jurassic even. I have two cats (Ezio & Ringo) and a pitbull (Cassie). 
Um, my primary fandom currently is Doctor Who, but I had been a roleplayer for too long across many fandoms (DC, Marvel, Sherlock, Supernatural, Harry Potter). I don’t roleplay anymore; I have focused on writing fanfiction instead, roleplaying with myself as you do. I do a few different things to keep myself busy; besides writing, I stream occasionally on Twitch. I am not a professional, but I have fun. I mainly yell and die in the game, but sometimes I’m really funny. 
As for writing, I am fairly new to the fanfiction game. I’ve only done it a few months; I started being actually active in April! I started as a Missy x Reader blog, and I like to think I have expanded more, being more comfortable in writing for The Master (Simm & starting to get a feel for Dhawan) in general, as well as adding a few more characters. Speaking of which, I am going to break down the characters I am comfortable writing; I have even thought about opening up to start writing for a few more fandoms. A pattern will become clear; Idk what it says about me. 
DOCTOR WHO|
Missy/The Master 9th Doctor/10th Doctor/12th Doctor/14th Doctor Kate Lethbridge-Stewart DC|
Jack Napier/The Joker (Dark Knight)  Jonathan Crane/The Scarecrow (Dark Knight, ArkhamVerse) 
HARRY POTTER| Bellatrix Lestrange Tom Riddle Draco Malfoy (*of age)
The pattern is that I primarily write the ‘villains'...oopsie daisy. 
ANYWAY, Requests are open; if you send one in, please tell me if you want sfw/nsfw. It might take me some time since I am drowning in kinktober, but I do try to do requests first, cause I love you all. Come 'ere, let me kiss your foreheads.
But that is me in a nutshell; in the beginning, I didn’t know what was proper etiquette for interacting, so just I didn't, and that was my fault. I am getting better, I am just a little socially anxious bug, but I want to thank each and every one of you, to everyone who reads my works and likes/leaves kudos, comments, and reblogs; you all mean the world. Just know I get very happy about any interaction! And to everyone who follows me, welcome to Jackass baby! We have no clue what we are doing here, but it’s chaotic and wild. 
Under the read more will be the master list/tag list stuff.
MASTERLIST
Ao3 <—where you can find the fics all together.
*- Smut
━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━
DOCTOR WHO |
★Kinktober 2024★* [ x ]
Tumblr media
Series | 
★ Missy x reader ★
Surrender Your Mind 
Part One Part Two Part three*
↳ ○ You have had the worst kind of day, and it is only going to get worse when you get swept up in the life of one renegade time lady, taking on the part of an unwilling companion to find out why you are being targeted by assassins, if the target is her.
Drabbles | 
This Will Be The Day [x] ↳ ○ Reader wants a romantic date, Missy has an idea to spice it up. She was a seasoned swordsman, but you were not, you couldn’t win fair and square so you did what you had to, distraction and cheating.
 Me And The Devil [x] * {Vampire!Missy x Female Reader} ↳ ○A game of cat and mouse, leads to feeding your vampire alien and more. 
Within Your Heart I'll Place The Moon [x] ↳ ○Missy takes you to a masquerade ball, and well it feels very final.
Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me To Sleep [ x ] ↳ ○| Anon asked | I would like to please request a Missy x reader (I'm not sure if you have seen the Agent Carter show but if you haven't I'll let you know why I asked. One of the gadgets that Peggy has is a lipstick, which when she kisses someone that person falls asleep.) Where the reader has been separated from the Doctor and comes across Missy but doesn't know who she is and so when the time comes for Missy to escape she wants to take the reader with her so she uses that same idea with the lipstick to make the reader sleep so they can capture the reader and leave their real identity as a surprise.
So this is in which Missy kidnaps the reader using a sleeping toxin.
Imagines |
Imagine watching a horror movie with missy [ x ]
Tumblr media
★ Dhawan!Master x reader ★
Drabbles |  Lazy Day [ x ] ↳ ○ Anonymous asked: hi love, i saw you said your requests were open and id like to ask if you could write something about dhawan!master, where he and the reader are married and he fusses over her lots and makes sure she has everything she needs and all that fluff. Abandon Thought and Let the Dream Decend [ x ] ↳ ○ Anon asked | I was wondering if I could please request a Dhawan!Master x reader (or you can choose another master instead if you want.) The reader is at a Halloween party dressed as Christine Daaé (from Phantom of the Opera.) The reader sees someone dressed as the Phantom and is almost compelled to follow the person and the reader ends up alone in a locked room with this person and a mirror but by the time the reader works out that it's the master it's too late and the reader is already hypnotized/captured.
Tumblr media
★ Simm!Master x reader ★
Drabbles | 
His [ x ] ↳ ○ Anonymous asked: spare some simm!master x transmasc reader perhaps???
Taglists|
Surrender your Mind [x]
General Missy x reader [x] Kinktober 2024 [ x ]
13 notes · View notes