#high school jonathan crane

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Hi! I just stumbled upon your profile when I was searching for jonathan crane x reader fics, and can I just say that I loved Behind The Mask so so much! Would it be possible to request a fic Jonathan x reader that is inspired by You are the right one by Sports? If so, thank you so much! 💕✨

You Are The Right One - Jonathan Crane x Reader (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 8016

Warnings: High School!Jonathan Crane, bullying

Summary: !!Request!! High school was a cesspool of misery for Jonathan. After the cruel prank from his crush and biggest bully, he believed his days would be forever marred by the shadows of ridicule and isolation. Until a beacon of light emerged in the form of one girl who reached out with a helping hand.

A/N: (This gif does not match the vibe whatsoever, but oh well!) Bro, I had never heard this song before, but the second I listened to it AHAHHAH!!! the way this song tingles my brain~ chefs kiss. Thank you so much Anon for introducing this song to me 💚 While writing this fic, I really got into the comic book Jonathan, so the whole time writing this, instead of picturing Cillian Murphy, my brain went off and thought about the lanky ginger Jonathan from the comics...smash. This doesn't really affect how you read it or anything, I don't bring up his appearance (I think) but yeah, fun fact! Thank you so much for the request, Anon, I hope you like it and I hope everyone else likes it as well 💚

(Part 2)

-

"Hey! Scarecrow!" The jeering shout pierced the air before a rotten pumpkin collided with Jonathan's head.

With a jolt, he crashed onto the unforgiving concrete, the impact scraping his knees raw and sending his glasses tumbling from his face. Laughter and mocking taunts echoed from the other side of the street, adding insult to injury. Wiping the slimy remnants of pumpkin from his face, Jonathan retrieved his glasses from the ground and carefully replaced them, picking himself off the floor and rushing to his house.

Jonathan hated his time at school, not due to its academic challenges, they were a mere breeze to him. It was the individuals within the school walls who soured his experience. Each day seemed to bring a fresh onslaught of taunts, shoves, and the relentless pursuit to make him feel small. It was an existence he loathed.

Bo Gribbs stood out as the ringleader of torment, his cruelty unmatched by any other. Jonathan couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve such relentless bullying from Bo, but he found himself powerless to retaliate. Physically overpowered and painfully aware of his own frailty, Jonathan's slender frame seemed almost translucent beneath his clothing, a stark testament to his vulnerability in the face of Bo's tyranny.

Yet, even within the supposed sanctuary of his supposed home, peace was still not found for him. If he managed to escape the torment of school, he found himself ensnared in the clutches of his eccentric great-grandmother, whose own torture made every moment a living hell. The irony of her religious fervor contrasted against her treatment of him was not lost on Jonathan.

Though Jonathan's existence felt like a descent into inferno, he clung to the belief that it was merely a chapter in his life, not the entire story. Determined to carve out a brighter future for himself. He vowed to end the torment, one way or another.

-

Walking through the corridors proved to be a difficult journey for Jonathan, each step fraught with the anticipation of another cruel encounter. As he traversed the halls, barely two minutes had passed before a forceful shove sent him careening forward, his body meeting the cold embrace of the linoleum floor. His knees, accustomed to such harsh treatment, absorbed the impact with resigned familiarity.

The clatter of his glasses hitting the ground echoed amidst the cacophony of jeers from passing jocks, their laughter cutting through the air like a serrated blade. With a heavy sigh, Jonathan reached out, his fingers fumbling as they sought the familiar frames now lying abandoned on the floor.

To add insult to injury, the contents of his binder lay strewn across the corridor in a chaotic array of papers and notebooks. With a resigned sense of foreboding, Jonathan began the arduous task of gathering his scattered belongings, readying himself for the inevitable shit day that lay ahead.

Amidst the din of the bustling hallway, the sound of approaching footsteps caught Jonathan's attention, his heart sinking as he braced for yet another harsh confrontation. However, what he beheld was not the expected boot poised for a strike, but rather a figure, a girl, crouched beside him, her hands reaching out to aid in gathering the scattered papers.

Stunned into silence, Jonathan could only watch in disbelief as the girl worked alongside him, her actions a stark contrast to the hostility he had come to expect. Caught in a moment of bewildered confusion, he found himself unable to move, his mind reeling with questions. What was she doing? Was she helping him?

As Jonathan's mind struggled to catch up with the whirlwind of events, he watched in astonishment as the girl collected the scattered papers, her movements somehow appearing graceful. With each piece she retrieved, she seemed to breathe life into the crap that had enveloped his world just moments before. As she stacked the papers before him, Jonathan couldn't help but marvel at the dexterity of her fingers, a stark contrast to the clumsy awkwardness he felt coursing through his own limbs.

When she finally glanced up, her face illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the corridor, Jonathan found himself momentarily transfixed by the sight before him. The delicate curve of her jawline, the softness of her features, and the warmth in her eyes sent a flutter through his chest, igniting a blush that crept up his cheeks. It had been an eternity since he had been in such close proximity to a girl, let alone one this attrative.

Despite the pounding of his heart and the flush of embarrassment that suffused his face, Jonathan couldn't help but brace himself for the anticipated rejection and humiliation. Yet, to his astonishment, the girl's expression remained neutral, devoid of the revulsion he had come to expect from others.

In that fleeting moment, as their eyes met, Jonathan felt a spark of hope ignite within him, a glimmer of possibility amidst the darkness of his reality.

"I'm not sure they're in order, sorry," she offered apologetically, handing the papers over to him.

Jonathan's mind raced, struggling to process the flood of emotions and sensations crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words emerged, his voice lost amidst the thoughts within him. His cheeks burned with a fierce blush, the heat spreading across his skin like wildfire as he fought to steady his erratic breaths.

Despite the turmoil raging within him, Jonathan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the girl before him. Every delicate movement, every subtle shift in her demeanor, captivated his attention like a mesmerizing dance. He watched as she nervously nibbled on her lower lip, her brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

A pang of self-reproach stabbed at Jonathan's heart as he cursed his own awkwardness, berating himself for his inability to ease the tension that hung thick in the air. He longed to reach out, to offer some semblance of reassurance, but the weight of his own insecurities held him captive, shackling him in silence.

In the midst of his internal turmoil, Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if he was the cause of the girl's discomfort. Was it his presence alone that had driven her to such nervous agitation? The thought only served to deepen his sense of self-condemnation, a bitter reminder of his own inadequacy in the face of this unexpected encounter.

Taking the papers from her outstretched hand, Jonathan murmured a barely audible "thank you," his eyes remaining fixed on the ground.

"It's okay," she reassured softly, straightening up.

As Jonathan remained rooted to the spot, his gaze fixated on the ground, he felt a sense of regret wash over him as he watched the girl gracefully rise to her feet. Every movement seemed to unfold in slow motion, each subtle shift of her body conveying a depth of emotion that left Jonathan feeling utterly captivated.

The soft rustle of fabric as she straightened her posture, the delicate sway of her hair as she lifted her head, every detail etched itself into Jonathan's memory like a scene from a cherished dream. He longed to reach out, to capture this fleeting moment before it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but the weight of his own insecurities held him firmly in place.

As she turned to leave, the sound of her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, each step a somber reminder of the distance that now lay between them. Jonathan listened intently, the rhythmic sound of her footfalls fading into the silence like a whispered promise lost to the wind.

Only when she was finally out of sight did Jonathan dare to lift his gaze, his eyes scanning the empty space where she had stood mere moments before. The memory of her presence lingered like an echo in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of the connection he had felt, however fleeting it may have been.

-

As the final bell reverberated through the hallways, signaling the end of lunch and the impending arrival of the last period, Jonathan's thoughts were consumed by the memory of the girl he had crossed paths with that very morning. Her image lingered in his mind like a vivid dream, each detail etched into his consciousness with a clarity that was exhilarating and mildly disturbing.

The mere thought of her sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could almost feel the weight of her gaze, piercing through the veil of his thoughts, igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

This crush felt different, unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't merely a passing fancy or a fleeting attraction. It was a connection that transcended the boundaries of mere physical appearance. There was an ineffable quality about her, a magnetic allure that beckoned him closer with each passing moment.

As he gazed out into the tranquil expanse before him, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that destiny had intervened, weaving their paths together. And in that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the afternoon, he allowed himself to entertain the tantalizing possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, this encounter was the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

It may have seemed naive, even foolish, to harbor such aspirations, but for Jonathan, it was a rare moment of respite in an otherwise shitty landscape. To entertain the notion that perhaps, just perhaps, the universe held something extraordinary in store for him was a welcome change.

Jonathan’s previous crushes seemed like nothing compared to the emotions that stirred by his encounter with the mysterious girl that morning. Recollections of past crushes, like shards of fragmented glass, pricked at his consciousness, reminding him of the superficiality that had defined those fleeting attractions.

Sherry, with her beauty and captivating presence, had been the subject of Jonathan's affections not so long ago. Yet, his admiration for her had always been tempered by the harsh reality of her social circle. Despite the allure of her charm, Jonathan found himself relegated to the sidelines, but he knew he could never have anyone like her anyway.

But it wasn't just Sherry's group that posed a barrier to Jonathan's desires, it was her association with Bo Gribbs, the boy that tormented him every day. Bo's looming presence, like a dark cloud on the horizon, served as a constant reminder of the toxicity that permeated Sherry's world. And yet, despite the danger that lurked beneath the surface, Jonathan remained steadfast in his pursuit, blind to the warning signs that whispered caution in the wind.

It wasn't until Sherry played a cruel prank on him, a twisted joke that left him humiliated and vulnerable, that Jonathan's rose-tinted glasses were shattered, revealing the harsh truth that had eluded him for so long. The sting of betrayal, like a venomous serpent coiled within his heart, forced him to confront the reality of his situation, a reality where he made judgement off appearance alone.

As he reflected on the events of that fateful night, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the time wasted chasing after hollow dreams. But amidst the ashes of his past disappointments, a flicker of hope ignited within him, a hope born from the promise of a new beginning, forged in the fires of his encounter with the mysterious girl who had captured his heart with a single glance and kind gesture.

This girl, she was unlike anyone Jonathan had ever encountered before. Every detail of her presence seemed to exude an air of kindess, something that he didn’t experience often. 

It wasn't just her appearance that set her apart, it was the way she carried herself, with a confidence that bordered on defiance, as if daring the world to unravel the enigma of her being. There was an undeniable magnetism about her, an intangible quality that drew Jonathan in like a moth to a flame.

And for the first time in his life, Jonathan dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for something more than mere admiration from afar. He allowed himself to entertain the possibility of forging a connection with this stranger.

As Jonathan settled into his usual seat at the front of the classroom, he arranged his books on the desk before him. The desks were arranged in pairs, accommodating two students each, yet Jonathan found himself occupying his table alone, a solitude he had grown accustomed to and even appreciated. 

The rest of the class filtered in, taking their usual places. But just as the bell signaled the start of class, the door creaked open to reveal a newcomer, a sight that caused Jonathan's heart to skip a beat. Like a vision materializing, she stepped into the room, the girl who had occupied Jonathan's thoughts since the start of the day.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Jonathan's eyes traced her every movement, drinking in the graceful sway of her stride, the subtle tilt of her head as she looked around at the desks before her. It was as if the very essence of her presence infused the room with a palpable energy, setting Jonathan's heart ablaze with a flurry of emotions he struggled to contain.

What was she doing here, in his classroom, when she wasn't supposed to be? The question echoed through Jonathan's mind like a mantra, a puzzle he couldn't quite unravel.

As she cast her gaze about the room, seeking out an empty seat, Jonathan's breath caught in his throat, a knot of anticipation tightening in his chest. And then, as if guided by some unseen force, her eyes landed on the spot beside him before drifting up to his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips like a secret shared between them.

The rush of heat that flooded Jonathan's cheeks was as sudden and unexpected as a summer storm, his pulse quickening with a fervor that threatened to overwhelm him. It was a moment suspended in time, a collision of worlds that left Jonathan reeling in disbelief.

He sat there, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a drum echoing in the hollows of his chest. Every nerve in his body seemed to hum with electricity as he watched her draw nearer, her presence casting a spell upon him that left him breathless with anticipation. It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, each passing second stretching into eternity.

"May I sit here?" Her voice, like a melody woven from silk and honey, broke through the haze of Jonathan's thoughts, drawing his attention to the question hanging in the air.

Jonathan swallowed hard, the sudden dryness of his throat betraying the ruckus of emotions raging within him. With a shaky nod, he managed to tear his gaze away from her mesmerizing presence, meeting her eyes with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, her voice like a gentle breeze on a summer's eve as she settled into the seat beside him, her movements fluid and graceful.

"I just moved classes," she continued, her tone casual yet tinged with a hint of frustration, "I had a clash with English and Statistics, which messed up my whole timetable."

As she explained the reason for her unexpected presence in his class, Jonathan found himself captivated by the sound of her voice, each word a symphony of warmth and sincerity that washed over him like a soothing balm.

Jonathan drank in her words like a man parched in the desert, his thirst for her presence growing with each passing moment. He wanted nothing more than to listen to her voice for eternity, to lose himself in the melody of her speech.

"I'm Y/n, by the way," she said, turning to look at him with a smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room with its radiance.

"I'm Jo-" Jonathan's words were abruptly cut off by the sharp impact of a book colliding with the back of his head, jolting him out of his trance with a start.

Laughter erupted throughout the classroom, echoing off the walls as Jonathan winced in pain, his hand instinctively flying to the back of his head, fingers curling around the tender spot where the book had struck.

"Holy fuck! Are you okay?" Y/n's voice cut through the chaos, her hand landing gently on his shoulder in a gesture of concern.

Jonathan's breath caught in his throat at the touch, a jolt of electricity coursing through him at the warmth of her hand against his skin. If he weren't in such agonizing pain, he might have choked on his own saliva at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. "I'm fine," he managed to whisper, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

As Y/n leaned in to check on him, neither of them noticed the approach of the culprit responsible for Jonathan's suffering. It wasn't until he spoke that their attention was drawn to him, his smug tone slicing through the air like a knife.

"Sorry, Scarecrow, my hand slipped," Bo said, his voice dripping with malice.

With a heavy thud, Bo's hand landed on Jonathan's back, causing him to flinch and cough in response. Leaning in closer, Bo loomed over Jonathan, his presence like a dark cloud casting a shadow over the room.

"Do you mind?" Y/n's voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade, her gaze locked on Bo with a fierceness that made him falter for a moment.

"Mind what, Y/n? I’m fine, how ‘bout yourself?" Bo retorted, his smirk never faltering, even under the weight of her glare.

"Go be a dick somewhere else," Y/n shot back.

Jonathan's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and admiration as he watched Y/n stand up to Bo, her unwavering determination a stark contrast to the fear and apprehension that had gripped him only moments before.

For a moment, Bo seemed taken aback by Y/n's assertiveness, his usual swagger faltering in the face of her unwavering gaze. But then, with a mocking snort, he straightened up, his smirk morphing into a sneer as he turned his attention back to Jonathan.

"Looks like Scarecrow's got himself a little protector," Bo jeered, his words dripping with contempt.

Ignoring Bo's taunts, Y/n turned back to Jonathan, her expression softening with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Jonathan couldn't help but nod, a surge of gratitude flooding through him at the genuine concern in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

As the tension in the room began to settle, the teacher cleared their throat, drawing attention to the front of the classroom. With one last glance at Y/n, Jonathan turned his focus to the lesson.

Jonathan felt a gentle tap on his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned to find Y/n looking at him with a kind expression.

"Sorry, I never actually caught your name before Bo started being a dick," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of apology.

"Jonathan," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, before turning her attention back to the front of the classroom.

As Jonathan watched her, a warmth spread through his chest, chasing away the lingering discomfort from Bo's earlier antics. In that brief exchange, he felt a connection form.

As Jonathan sat beside Y/n in class, his mind couldn't help but drift back to her. Her presence beside him seemed to fill the air with a quiet warmth, casting a soft glow over the otherwise mundane surroundings of the classroom.

He stole furtive glances in her direction, marveling at the way the sunlight danced in her hair, illuminating strands of gold like a halo. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the way her eyes flickered with concentration as she followed along with the lesson, every detail of her being seemed to captivate him in ways he couldn't quite comprehend.

He longed to hear her speak again, to lose himself in the melody of her words and the warmth of her smile. But more than anything, it was the way she made him feel, the sense of comfort and ease that washed over him in her presence. For the first time in a long while, Jonathan felt a glimmer of hope stirring within him, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something special blossoming between them.

As the final minutes of class ticked by, Jonathan's attention remained divided between the lesson and the gentle presence of Y/n beside him. He found himself stealing glances at her whenever he could, savoring the fleeting moments of shared proximity.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Jonathan felt a pang of reluctance as he realized their time together was drawing to a close. He began gathering his belongings, his mind already drifting ahead to the remainder of the day.

But before he could make his exit, Y/n turned to him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth and kindness. "Hey, Jonathan," she said softly, "do you mind if I walk with you?"

Jonathan's heart skipped a beat at her words, a rush of warmth flooding through him at the prospect of spending more time with her. "I don’t mind," he replied, almost too quickly.

Together, they made their way out of the classroom, the bustling halls alive with the energy of students eager to begin their weekend. As they walked side by side, Jonathan felt a sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the unexpected situation that had brought them together.

As they stepped out of the building, Y/n cast a fleeting glance behind them before returning her focus to the path ahead. "I just really didn't want Bo to bother you any more than he already has. If you don't want me to walk with you, I totally get that," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

"It's fine... I don't mind," Jonathan replied, his words tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/n's lips as she looked at him. "Then I'll walk with you," she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity.

As Jonathan processed Y/n's offer, a swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him. 

On one hand, he was overwhelmed by a sense of disbelief and wonder that someone as kind and compassionate as Y/n would willingly extend such a gesture of friendship to him. It was a glimmer of light in the darkness of his daily struggles, a ray of hope that pierced through the clouds of uncertainty that hung heavy over his life.

But as he considered the practicalities of the situation, a nagging sense of apprehension gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that allowing Y/n to accompany him all the way to his house would only invite trouble. Grandma Keeny was not one to tolerate such liberties, and Jonathan knew all too well the consequences of crossing her.

With a heavy heart, Jonathan weighed his options. On one hand, he longed for the companionship and warmth that Y/n's presence offered. But on the other, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting her to the wrath of Grandma Keeny.

In the end, Jonathan found himself at a crossroads, both metaphorically and literally, as they reached an intersection. With a heavy heart, he turned to Y/n, his expression a mixture of gratitude and reluctance.

"I'm going this way," he murmured, the words stumbling awkwardly from his lips.

Y/n's smile faltered slightly at his words, a flicker of confusion dancing in her eyes. "You don't want me to keep walking with you?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to confide in Y/n and the fear of burdening her with his troubles. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head gently.

"It's not that," he began, his voice soft but resolute. "I just don't want to inconvenience you. It's a bit out of the way, and I wouldn't want to make you late home or anything."

Y/n regarded him with a thoughtful expression, her gaze searching his face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. After a moment, she nodded understandingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Alright then," she said, her tone warm and reassuring. "Just know that the offer still stands if you ever need someone to walk with."

Jonathan felt a surge of gratitude wash over him at her words, a sense of warmth and belonging settling in the pit of his stomach. Though he couldn't bring himself to explain the full extent of his situation, he was grateful for Y/n's understanding and compassion.

With a final nod of thanks, Jonathan watched as Y/n continued on her way, her presence a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone in his struggles.

As Jonathan made his way along the footpath, the memory of Y/n lingered like a gentle breeze, offering a brief respite from the turmoil of his thoughts.

But as he neared his house, the weight of reality came crashing down upon him like a leaden blanket. The giddiness he felt began to wane, replaced by a sense of foreboding dread.

He couldn't bring himself to call it a home, not with the constant cloud of tension that hung heavy in the air. Grandma Keeny's presence loomed over the house like a specter, her disapproving gaze a constant reminder of the hell Jonathan endured within its walls.

With each step closer to the front door, Jonathan's stomach churned with a mixture of anxiety and apprehension. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, there would always be something for Grandma Keeny to find fault with.

But as he steeled himself to face whatever awaited him inside, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, a reminder of the brief moment of solace he had found in Y/n's company. And for that fleeting moment, Jonathan allowed himself to cling to the hope that one day, he would find a place where he truly belonged.

As Jonathan entered the house, the air seemed to thicken with tension, each creak of the floorboards echoing through the house. He braced himself for the inevitable confrontation, steeling his nerves against the onslaught of Grandma Keeny's disapproving scrutiny.

Sure enough, as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was met with the sharp pang of her voice slicing through the silence like a knife. "You're late again, Jonathan," she scolded, her tone laced with thinly veiled disdain.

He hardly needed to glance at the clock to know she made that up. Jonathan bit back a retort, knowing from experience that it would only incite further wrath. Instead, he offered a mumbled apology, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground as he braced himself for the barrage of criticism that was sure to follow.

But to his surprise, Grandma Kenny's response was not as scathing as he had anticipated. "Don't let this happen again," she said curtly, her voice carrying a tone of warning.

Though her words lacked the usual venomous edge, Jonathan still felt the weight of her disapproval bearing down on him like a heavy burden. He nodded silently, knowing better than to provoke further confrontation.

As he retreated to his room. While he was grateful to have escaped unscathed this time, he couldn't shake the feeling that Grandma Keeny's temporary leniency was merely the calm before the storm.

As he settled into bed, the memory of Y/n's kind smile lingered in his mind like a flickering flame in the darkness. It was a reminder that even amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there were moments of warmth and kindness to be found.

But that moment of rest was short-lived. The tranquility shattered as Grandma Kenny's sharp voice pierced through the silence, demanding that he come downstairs to make her a coffee. Jonathan's shoulders sagged as he rolled his eyes, begrudgingly pushing himself off the bed.

-

Jonathan stood by his locker, the light of the hallway casting shadows across the floor. The low hum of students milling about filled the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or snippets of conversation. He slowly grabbed each book from his locker, the scent of aged paper and faint traces of graphite wafting up as he sifted through the contents.

With each item he retrieved, Jonathan's mind wandered, lost in the potential chance of Y/n walking past. He imagined the rhythmic tap of her footsteps echoing down the corridor, the soft rustle of her clothing as she approached. His heart quickened at the thought of her warm smile, the playful glint in her eyes that never failed to captivate him.

In his mind, Jonathan pictured Y/n strolling alongside him to class, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they had known each other for years. He envisioned himself maintaining composure, staying cool, without the usual nervousness that plagued him in social interactions. Imagining her radiant smile directed up at him, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, hoping to see her.

Sure, he had only met her the day before and their only interactions were brief. Yet, in those fleeting moments, Jonathan felt a something with Y/n that bet any connection he had ever thought he shared with Sherry. The memory of his last crush on Sherry now seemed trivial and shallow in comparison to the depth of feeling he harbored for Y/n, he cringed just thinking about it.

Lost in his imagination, Jonathan nearly missed Y/n's presence walking through the hallway. She was a vision, just as captivating as the day prior. His heart quickened with anticipation, hoping for a fleeting glance from her. Yet, she passed by without so much as a glance in his direction.

Feeling a pang of disappointment, Jonathan turned back to his locker, cursing himself for entertaining such fantasies. He berated his own foolishness, knowing deep down that she wouldn't notice him. As he watched her move toward her own locker, he couldn't shake the sense of longing that lingered in his heart.

Jonathan couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched a guy approach Y/n at her locker. He felt a surge of jealousy rise within him, coupled with a gnawing sense of unease. His mind raced with scenarios, imagining the worst possible outcomes. What if this guy was her boyfriend? What if she preferred his company over Jonathan's?

He had completely forgetthen the about the possibility that she might already be in a relationship. A knot formed in his stomach as he watched them engage in conversation. He strained to hear snippets of their exchange, trying to decipher their relationship. His grip tightened on the books in his hands, his knuckles turning white with tension.

Jonathan's thoughts swirled with insecurity and doubt. He couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that washed over him. As he watched the interaction unfold, a sense of resignation settled over him. Perhaps it was best to keep his distance, to spare himself the inevitable disappointment of rejection.

As Jonathan closed his locker, he couldn't help but overhear the exchange between Y/n and the guy who had approached her. He lingered nearby, discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you every time, I don’t want to go out with you,” Y/n's voice carried a firmness, her words laced with frustration.

The guy persisted, undeterred. “And I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m not a bad guy. What have you got to lose?” he argued.

Y/n didn't mince her words. “I’ve watched you and your friends bully people, yet you’re gonna stand there and tell me you’re not a bad guy?” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the air with conviction.

With a dismissive roll of his eyes, the guy retorted, “It’s just a bit of fun.”

Y/n's response was final. “Goodbye, now,” she stated firmly, closing her locker and walking away, leaving the guy behind.

Jonathan felt a wave of relief wash over him as he listened to the conversation unfold. Not only did it confirm that Y/n was single, but it also revealed her refusal to entertain someone disrespectful like that guy. Yet, alongside the relief, a simmering anger brewed within him. The audacity of that guy to treat her with such disrespect ignited a fire within Jonathan. Upon getting a closer look, he recognized the guy as one of the same guys who had tormented him before, one that hangs with Bo. Aaron was a real piece of shit. 

Jonathan's gaze must have lingered for too long, for the Aaron turned to face him, his expression twisted with anger. "What are you looking at, Scarecrow?" he spat out aggressively.

Jonathan felt a surge of panic coursing through him, his muscles tensing in preparation for confrontation. However, before he could respond, the bell rang, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. With a sense of relief, Jonathan hastily made his exit, heading off to his own class, leaving the guy behind in the hallway.

-

Jonathan managed to navigate his classes without encountering Aaron again, a small relief in an otherwise nerve racking day. As lunchtime arrived, he found himself in the crowded cafeteria.

For Jonathan, lunch was a simple affair. His pockets rarely held enough spare change to afford a cafeteria meal, and even if they did, the thought of eating the food they served was revolting in and of itself. Instead, he relied on the sandwich he'd prepared at home earlier that morning. A humble meal, but one that brought him comfort.

In the corner of the cafeteria, Jonathan sat in solitary silence, a lone figure amidst rest. With a library book propped open before him, he stole moments between bites of his homemade sandwich to immerse himself in its pages. The book was a refuge, a small rebellion against the suffocating grip of Grandma Kenny's stringent beliefs.

Jonathan didn’t want to imagine the consequences if Grandma Kenny were to discover his forbidden literary indulgence. Her wrath was legendary, her punishments cruel and unpredictable. From stupid chores to brutal beatings. Jonathan shuddered at the memory of being locked in the decrepit church, surrounded by the menacing caws of circling crows. An ordeal he'd endured more than once for daring to defy her rules.

He barely noticed that person approaching his table. Jonathan's heart jumped in his chest as he watched Aaron's hand descend upon the table with a thud, the sudden noise echoing in the cafeteria. His grip tightened on the book, his knuckles turning white, as he braced himself for whatever confrontation was about to unfold.

Aaron's smirk widened as he snatched the book from Jonathan's hands, flipping through its pages with a mocking chuckle. "What cha reading, Scarecrow?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Jonathan remained rooted to his seat, his silence a stark contrast to Aaron's brash demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions churned within him. Fear, anger, and a deep-seated sense of vulnerability.

With a swift motion, Aaron swatted Jonathan's sandwich off the table, the force causing crumbs to scatter across the surface. Jonathan flinched at the sudden movement, his fingers twitching as if instinctively reaching out to reclaim his meal.

But he held himself back, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Aaron. He knew better than to provoke further confrontation, especially in such a public setting. So, with a clenched jaw and a steely resolve, Jonathan remained silent, his eyes betraying none of the turmoil raging within.

Aaron's smirk widened at Jonathan's restraint, clearly relishing the power he held in this moment of dominance. With a swift motion, he tossed the book aside, its pages fluttering in protest before settling on the tabletop. 

"What's the matter, Scarecrow? Cat got your tongue?" Aaron taunted, leaning in closer, his breath hot against Jonathan's ear.

Jonathan's jaw tightened further, his fingers curling into fists beneath the table. He refused to give Aaron the satisfaction of a response, knowing that any retort would only fuel the bully's ego. Instead, he focused on maintaining his composure, willing himself to remain calm in the face of adversity.

As Aaron continued to mock and jeer, Jonathan's mind raced, searching for an escape from this uncomfortable confrontation. He knew he couldn't let Aaron intimidate him, not again. With a deep breath, Jonathan forced himself to ignore the taunts, his eyes flickering momentarily to the scattered crumbs on the table.

Just as Aaron seemed poised to escalate the situation further, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife. 

"Hey, Aaron, leave him alone."

Y/n stood at the edge of the table, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. Her presence seemed to catch Aaron off guard, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he composed himself.

"Mind your own business, Y/n," Aaron retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.

"And you wonder why I won’t go out with you," Y/n shot back, her voice unwavering.

Jonathan watched in awe as Y/n stood her ground, her confidence radiating in the face of adversity. He felt a surge of gratitude towards her, knowing that she had once again stepped in to defend him.

Aaron's eyes narrowed as he glared at Y/n, clearly unaccustomed to being challenged. For a moment, the cafeteria seemed to hold its breath, or atleast it did for Jonathan.

But then, with a frustrated huff, Aaron shoved himself away from the table, casting one last menacing glare at Jonathan before stalking off into the crowd.

Y/n exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing as the immediate threat dissipated. She turned to Jonathan with a sympathetic smile, offering him a reassuring nod.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, concern evident in her eyes.

Jonathan nodded, gratitude swelling in his chest. "Thanks to you," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n's smile widened, and she reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder. "Anytime," she said. “You wanna come sit with my friends and me?” Y/n offered, her voice carrying a warmth that melted away some of Jonathan's anxiety.

Jonathan felt his heart flutter in his chest. Was she really inviting him to join her? He glanced down, adjusting his glasses to hide the nervousness he felt bubbling inside.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just don’t want Aaron coming back to bother you,” Y/n added, her concern evident in her tone.

“I’d like that,” Jonathan replied, his voice soft but resolute.

Y/n's smile widened. Jonathan began gathering his things, carefully stowing his book in his bag before turning to his sandwich. However, his heart sank as he realized it had been scattered across the table, a casualty of Aaron's aggression.

With a frustrated huff, Jonathan began collecting the remnants of his meal, his movements tinged with embarrassment. Y/n watched him with a sympathetic gaze.

“Do you have anything else to eat?” Y/n asked gently.

Jonathan shook his head, a pang of hunger gnawing at his stomach as he disposed of the ruined sandwich in the nearby bin.

“I have some food you can have if you’d like,” Y/n offered, her voice warm and inviting.

“It’s okay, you should eat your food, don’t worry about me,” Jonathan replied, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s fine, my dad always packs me too much anyways,” Y/n insisted, her smile unwavering.

Y/n reached out a hand towards Jonathan, silently inviting him to join her. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness and gratitude, before accepting her gesture.

As they walked together towards Y/n's table, Jonathan couldn't help but steal glances at her. She walked with an effortless grace, her presence exuding a sense of comfort that eased the tension coiled within him.

Arriving at the table, Y/n pulled out a sandwich from her bag, “You can have this one, I don’t feel like eating two ham sandwiches today.” Without hesitation, she handed it to Jonathan, a small but genuine smile gracing her lips.

Jonathan accepted the sandwich with a grateful nod, his stomach rumbling in anticipation of the unexpected meal. He glanced around the table, noticing Y/n's friends chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They didn't seem to pay him much mind, but Jonathan didn't mind. His focus was solely on Y/n, her presence casting a comforting glow that made him feel at ease.

Settling into his seat, Jonathan began unwrapping the sandwich, the simple act of kindness from Y/n filling him with a sense of warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time. As he took a bite, he couldn't help but steal another glance at Y/n, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over him for her unexpected kindness.

-

It was perfect that he shared lunch with Y/n, not just because Jonathan cherished her company, but also because they had a class together, offering the perfect excuse to stroll side by side. With each step, Jonathan felt a sense of pride swell within him, as if walking with Y/n wasn’t just out of practicality, but because they were together, almost like a couple.

Y/n's lively chatter filled the air as they walked through the corridors, but Jonathan found himself lost in her presence, captivated by her every word and movement. Arriving at their classroom, they settled into their familiar seats, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as Y/n's arm brushed against his own, sending his heart into a flutter.

In that moment, Jonathan felt a sense of certainty wash over him. Y/n was meant for him, of that he was sure. Her smiles, her kindness, her very essence seemed to affirm his belief. No girl had ever shown him such warmth, and he couldn't deny the connection he felt with her.

As he sat beside her, Jonathan knew he had to ask her out. It had taken him over a week to muster the courage to ask out Sherry, but with Y/n, it felt different. She lifted his spirits effortlessly, instilling in him a newfound confidence. Though they had only known each other for a short time, Jonathan couldn't shake the feeling that she was the right one.

-

Walking out of class together, their steps echoing faintly in the empty hallway, Jonathan and Y/n exchanged casual conversation. Their last periods were both study periods, which gave them the opportunity to leave school early. As they stepped into the open air outside the building, Jonathan's heart drummed against his ribcage. He knew he had to ask her out. There was no turning back now.

Approaching the familiar corner where their paths diverged, the pair came to a halt and turned to face each other. The soft afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow around them, highlighting Y/n's radiant smile.

"Thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow," Y/n said, her smile warming Jonathan's heart as she prepared to bid him farewell.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Jonathan spoke up, his words hanging in the air between them like delicate wisps of anticipation. "U-uh, Y/n?" he began, his voice betraying a slight tremor of nervousness.

"Yes, Jonathan?" Y/n replied, her eyes fixed on him expectantly, a gentle curiosity gleaming within them.

This was his moment. Jonathan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. "I-I was wondering… if y-you'd like to go out with me?" he managed to utter, his heart pounding furiously against his chest, his hands trembling ever so slightly with nervous anticipation.

As he observed her reaction, he detected a subtle change in her demeanor. The radiant smile that had graced her lips moments ago seemed to wane, replaced by a hint of saddness that creased her brow ever so slightly. Jonathan's stomach churned with apprehension as he realized he might have misread the situation.

In that moment, he felt like a complete idiot. He berated himself internally for being so stupid, for daring to hope for something more. Jonathan's gaze faltered, his eyes dropping to the ground in a gesture of defeat. He cursed his own foolishness, reprimanding himself for misinterpreting Y/n's kindness as something it wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I never should have asked," Jonathan murmured, his voice tinged with shame.

Y/n's gentle touch on his arm made him glance up, meeting her gaze once more. He was met with a look of sincerity and understanding, her eyes soft with empathy.

"No, it's not that, Jonathan..." Y/n began, her voice tender as she sought to reassure him. "I'm sorry, I do like you, Jonathan, it's just... I'm not really ready to date anyone at the moment," she explained, her words laced with a hint of guilt.

Jonathan felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over him. He appreciated Y/n's honesty, but he couldn't shake the sting of rejection. Nevertheless, he managed a small nod, acknowledging her words.

Jonathan's heart sank as he prepared himself for rejection, his mind already forming apologies for his audacity. But then, Y/n spoke, her voice soft yet firm, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

"It's okay, Y/n," Jonathan replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and acceptance. "I understand. Thank you for being honest with me."

Y/n's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you for understanding, Jonathan. You're a good friend."

The weight of her words settled over him, and Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth blossom within his chest. Despite the outcome not being what he had hoped for, he found solace in the bond they shared and the prospect of their continued friendship.

With a faint smile, Jonathan mustered the courage to meet Y/n's gaze once more. "I'm glad we can still be friends," he said, his voice soft yet sincere.

Y/n returned his smile, her eyes reflecting warmth and gratitude. "Me too, Jonathan," she replied, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm.

Jonathan's heart swelled as she suddenly pulled him closer, wrapping him in a warm embrace. His breath caught in his throat, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively returning the hug, savoring the fleeting moment between them.

As Y/n pulled away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a pang of longing, wishing he could hold onto the moment just a little longer. He watched in awe as she walked away, her figure disappearing down the street. Despite the bittersweet twinge of unrequited feelings, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Y/n's grace and kindness.

He knew that she was the one he wanted to be with. Her kindness, understanding, and genuine nature spoke volumes to him, reaffirming his belief that she was worth waiting for.

As he watched her walk away, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a profound sense of connection to her, a feeling he hadn't experienced with anyone else before. He knew that their bond was special, even if it wasn't romantic just yet. And while he longed for more, he was willing to be patient, knowing that good things often took time.

With a wistful smile, Jonathan silently vowed to cherish their friendship and support Y/n in any way he could. He was willing to wait for her, confident that their paths would eventually align in the future. And as he continued on his journey home, he carried with him a sense of hope and anticipation, knowing that she was worth the wait.

-

A/N: Sorry this took so long to come out, as usual, uni shit 💀 (cause I'm a dumb ass doing a double major) I set this after the Halloween party, so Jonathan probably should have been more aggressive and all that shit, but in the comic, he's all shy and all that stuff with Sherry (before the prank), so I wanted to keep along those lines. I really hope I did this request justice as I loved it so much. Thank you all for reading and I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it 💚

[creaman]

I love how you draw Scarecrow! Especially his eyes!!! Absolutely wonderful!!! Also, his sarcasm in your last comic update with the shotgun? Perfection.

Thank you for making such great art!!

Thank you!! I don’t have an awful lot of finished drawings of him but he’s on my mind constantly. I plan to give him multiple designs i.e. him making himself scarier in canon or whatever but here’s some more sketches of him unmasked.

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐗𝐈)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 1593

A/N: Since its the holidays, I'll be releasing one chapter everyday this week!

Jonathan Crane was a renowned doctor, and the only one taking lead with the treatment of Arkham’s high-risk patients. In a city rife with enough crime to instill fear in the hearts of even the bravest men, his specialty came especially handy in treating a majority of the patients there. 

y/n always looked up to the man, for he seemed to be the most sane and sensible person in the whole city. He was the father she never had, for he seemed to be the only person, other than Selina, who truly cared for her well-being. 

He had been treating her “real” father for years before the old man died from a heart attack. The death struck y/n’s mother a bit too hard, and before she knew it, the old crone was admitted into the Asylum in the same cell as her deceased husband. 

With all these revelations she had been uncovering recently, who knew what more Crane knew about her family? She hoped he could shed some light on the lies that seemed to plague her life, such as her recent realization of her mother’s involvement with Falcone before she went insane. 

Her body was still weak after the explosion last night, but it had enough strength in it for her to make a makeshift rope, climb down the third floor of Bruce’s manor through the window, and make her way off the property with her phone. She’d left her backpack and the file back in the room, for she knew she’d be returning soon enough to discuss the Falcone case.

Meeting Crane was something she needed to do for herself, and thus with a newfound determination, y/n relinquished the thoughts that tormented her mind about the future and set her sights on stealing one of Bruce’s cars to make her way to Arkham Asylum.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

y/n stepped into his empty office, observing the hollow nature of it. Though books were scattered here and there, the sun practically bursting through the window to fill the room with all its light, there was a lingering sense of emptiness. The discomforting feeling in the air could have very well been psychological, with the absence of lamps, or candles that generally air an easygoing aura. It could have been that all the books seemed to have a layer of dust gathered on them, exuding a sense of abandonment. But, regardless, y/n couldn’t quite figure out what made her feel slightly uneasy. 

Seating herself on a wooden chair propped by a mahogany desk, y/n ran a hand down the carved wood, familiarizing herself with the place. It was paradoxical, how homely the desk felt despite the eerie surroundings, for it carried countless memories of her seated just as she did now. All those times she felt alone, directionless, needing guidance, Dr. Crane always had room for her on the other side of the desk. She’d play with the knick-knacks he’d have lying around, make music as she tapped her feet on the legs of the desk, or simply stare at the intricate designs it held, and immediately feel the comfort of familiarity. 

Walking in, Dr. Crane sat at his desk and gave his full attention to the young girl as he greeted, “Hello, Ms. y/n. It’s been quite a while since you’ve visited. Is everything alright?”

“Dr. Crane, yes it’s been quite a while. Everything’s fine.” y/n thought about sharing the adventure she’d been having or the news of her rescindment, but opted to keep things short and simple as she took a breath and continued, “Actually, I came back to finally get some answers.”

“You mean closure.” He responded instantly, as though he could read her mind. “I sense this has to do with your mother?”

“ I’ve come across some information about her past, and since you’ve known her longer and better than I ever will, I thought you would know about–”

“Falcone. Yes, I hoped you’d never come across that information…You see, your mother was one of his most favored mistresses. She was a damn good spy for him too, for without her, Maroni would have been running these streets instead.”

“I knew my mother wasn’t a saint, how is knowing this any different than what I imagined her to be like before.”

“Because knowing her past would make you unconsciously compare your present. And that breeds a very dangerous kind of fear, the kind that festers self-doubt. Without assurance in yourself, you’re bound to go insane.”

“I don’t think she could influence any aspect of my life. For all I care, my mother is dead.”

“And yet, you still come here for closure. It’s hard to give someone credit for hurting you, but once you do, your life won’t be anchored by her any longer. No, you don’t want to establish that you’ve been hurt. You want to be able to forgive her, to hear words of comfort you’ll never hear. You want a mother, and you want her to be it. But that’s never going to happen even after she reforms. Let me give you a piece of advice, not just for moving on from your mother, but for anything that pains you. I’ve learned this lesson the hard way, so take it to heart. ‘Sorry’ won’t make a difference for it is simply one word against a thousand actions.”

“I guess the doctor has spoken,” y/n chuckled, feeling eased by this interaction. Maybe she'll never get the closer she wants but at least she got the one she needed. 

Crane chuckled along with y/n, before excusing himself for an appointment he had with another patient. Taking this as an opportunity to make her exit, she got up from her seat and moved toward the door from which she came in. As she was about to leave, she accidentally knocked over one of the towers of books accumulating dust. 

Smacking a palm to her forehead, y/n huffed as she kneeled down to place the books in the same position they were before. As she began to pick up the books one by one, she noticed a potato sack with holes and a mouth cut out of it behind the stack. After piling the books as they were before, she moved toward it, reaching to see what exactly the item was. Before she could even touch it, another presence opened the door and heeded y/n to leave the Asylum as there was a threat of an uprising occurring soon. 

Shrugging the sack as another one of Crane’s unorthodox approaches to his treatments, y/n followed the staff out of the premises where she drove her stolen car back to the Manor. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Climbing back up the rope she had escaped from, y/n was met with the sight of Harvey and Selina with their arms crossed, staring at the window. Bruce paced near the door with the file in his hands, oblivious to her sudden arrival until Selina cleared her throat.

Harvey was the first to begin berating the confused y/n as he initiated, “Where the hell were you? You know better than to be running around Gotham in that state.”

y/n’s shock had left her too stunned to speak. What were these three doing together? Her first order of business was to figure out just that, “Don’t you and Bruce hate each other? And how do y’all know Selina? What’s going on?”

Before Selina could open her mouth to ignore y/n’s questions and berate her again, Bruce calmly answered, “We’ve all got a stake in this case, so it’s better we work together to take down Falcone. They know about the operation and the file, now all we have to do is figure out which cop and lawyer we’re going to use for this case.”

Annoyed by being cut off before she even spoke, Selina re-addressed, “Great, we’re all on the same page. Now, where have you been.” Selina’s eyes attempted to bore into y/n’s as though her gaze would be able to root out whatever was in the other girl’s mind. 

Unfortunately for her y/n wasn’t willing to spill all her secrets to them, so she simply stated, “Arkham, had some business there to take care of.” Knowing that Harvey and Selina would definitely try to pry, y/n changed the subject as she turned to Bruce. “Got any leads about the cop situation? Most of them down at the precinct are as crooked as they come.”

Following her lead, Bruce acknowledged, “Actually, yes. There’s an up-and-comer detective by the name of James Gordon. He seems like a saint compared to guys like Bullock. He was there the night–” He cut himself off, not wanting to relive the haunting memory, as he resumed, “I know firsthand that he’s a good man. He’ll be able to help us.”

Harvey added, “My dad can help with the lawyer problem. He’s turned over a new leaf, and I’m sure he won’t miss an opportunity to show it.”

At the statement, Bruce eyed Harvey with a suspicious gaze but remained mum. With a sound plan, and enough evidence to back it up, the four worked to organize the files for reference and make a copy to send to the relevant people. y/n thought that this would be the beginning of the end, that this would be the downfall of her cage. Little did she know that there was no such thing as rock bottom, the darkness could always deepen.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist:@earth-to-name

[syresdcthings]

Dc highschool villains ily

Some fun scarecrow facts:

- Is in the science club (fuckin nerd)

- Takes Psych with Harley

- Him and Joker aren't particularly... best friends... but they bond with their hatreds for batman

Umm that's it for now I might make fact files on characters soon

[michaellangdonswhore]

warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

[paradiseprincesss]

forever boy | jonathan crane

umm i lowkey did not want to post this because i feel like it's not eating but i hope u guys like thissssss :')

summary: you and jonathan are close friends — he was your brothers best friend so it was bound to happen, after all. however, all you want is to be more than just friends. one night, after a particularly bad date, you drunkenly call jonathan asking him to come pick you up — and you accidentally confess your feelings while you're at it too.

warnings: unspecified age gap (reader is early 20's, jonathan is early 30's), sort of friends to lovers, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), general sexual content ahead lol, mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

"i don't think i've ever seen you stay with a guy for more than six months." jonathan pointed out teasingly as the two of you sat on his couch alone in his apartment, watching some random horror movie you chose to put on.

"very funny, jonathan." you say sarcastically, reaching over to grab the remote so you could pause the movie. "that doesn't make me feel any better, just so you know."

"you said you broke up with him because you don't care about him." jonathan shrugged. "psychologically speaking, have you ever considered that you may have an avoidant—"

"oh please," you scoffed, "do not turn this into one of your therapy sessions. psychoanalyze me all you want, but i guarantee you'll be dissappointed."

"i feel like you have a phobia of commitment." he says, sighing as he looked at you through his glasses.

"no, it's not that. it's just — nobody ever kept my attention." you explain, causing jonathan to raise a brow. "they just don't know how to make me...happy."

"i see," he said softly, "have you ever considered that, i don't know, maybe your going for the wrong type of guys?"

"what do you know about love? you're married to your job." you scoff, causing jonathan to chuckle softly.

"fair point," he nods, "but i do happen to study human psychology and behavioural patterns for a living."

recently, you had been spending a lot of time with your brothers best friend — doctor jonathan crane. he'd known jonathan for a good few years, the two of them got along well as they'd met at a conference for medical students when both of them were still in gotham's medical schooling program.

your brother was ten years older than you, meaning that you were currently still in university but your brother had built up a successful career for himself by now. of course, jonathan was just as, if not, more successful, with his name plastered in every article and paper in gotham about the remarkable work he was doing at arkham asylum.

you'd met jonathan while you were still in high school, but you only started to get close with him during your first year of university. one evening, you'd gotten a little too drunk at a frat party with your friends, and ended up calling your brother to come pick you up in your drunken state.

unfortunately, he had informed you that he was just swamped at work — but he would get his best friend, jonathan, to do him a favour and pick you up since he only lived about ten minutes away from the area you were partying at.

when he picked you up, all you could focus on was how handsome he was — why hadn't you noticed this before? not to mention his intoxicatingly blue eyes; how could someone have eyes that blue?!

after that — the two of you had become quite close. suddenly, you were tagging along if your brother and jonathan had plans, and you were also hanging out with jonathan when your brother wasn't around as well.

something just clicked when you two were together, despite him being nearly a decade older than you. the two of you would frequently make plans to meet up, whether that was to get food together or watch movies snuggled up on the couch of his apartment.

just as friends though, of course — he was your brothers best friend. plus, you were sure that jonathan would never see you in that way.

and since you'd been friends for a minute, he knew just what you liked; what made you smile. he'd even see boys come and go, he knew what made you cry. though he'd never say it aloud — he wanted to be the one to treat you right.

"what time is it?" you asked.

jonathan checked his watch, "quarter to seven." he replied, making you groan as you got up from his couch. "where are you going?"

"home," you sighed, "i have a date tonight — nate's picking me up at nine."

"you just broke up with your boyfriend two weeks ago, and you have a date already?" he asked with surprise, and you rolled your eyes as he got up with you.

"yes, so what? i told you that two month relationship meant nothing to me anyway." you shrugged, and jonathan looked at you with concern as he grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter. "spare me the judgement please, jonathan."

jonathan always drove you — even though you had your own license and car, he insisted. "i'm not judging you, i just don't want you to get hurt." he said with a sigh, and for a moment, he almost sounded disappointed.

"i wont." you assured him as the two of you drove back to your home. since you were still in university, you lived at home with your parents, and it had become a routine. he'd pick you up, and sometimes you'd even stay overnight at his place — as if friends do that.

"okay, well," he said with a sigh, parking on your driveway, "just promise me you'll call me if you need anything."

"i will. i know you're working an overnight shift so i can just call my brother—"

"just call me, i'll answer." he said softly.

when jonathan told you that, you felt your cheeks heat up and your heart start to beat rapidly. you smile and nod, waving goodbye as he drove off, leaving you at home again. as you rushed upstairs to start getting ready for your date — a feeling of overwhelming dread consumed you.

you were always defensive and deflective anytime anyone asked about your commitment issues. you knew the root cause: it was jonathan. the reason nobody could ever keep your attention was because you were already too focused on someone else — your brothers best friend.

you went on date after date, dated guy after guy, only to break their hearts months (and sometimes even just weeks) later. you were a professional at delivering the whole "it's not you, it's me" speech. you were sure that at some point, someone would help you get over jonathan.

but nobody ever did.

however, that all changed after your date with some guy named nate from your class had gone poorly. he was very clearly into you, however you on the other hand, were not into him at all. your mind was doing that thing again.

you know, the thing where your thoughts were consumed with jonathan and jonathan only — thoughts of what he was doing right now. how was work going for him? your mind was spinning as you daydreamed what it would be like to be the one he'd come home to every night, after a hard day.

"did you hear what i asked?" nate's voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up at him as you mindlessly swished the clear liquor in your martini glass.

"oh, m'sorry — no." you say in a bored manner, making no attempt to conceal your disinterest.

"whatever," nate sighed, clearly frustrated with your lack of interest for the last hour over drinks, "enjoy your night, i guess."

he places a fifty on the bar top, grabbing his phone and wallet before heading out of the bar you were in. you made no attempt to stop him, and instead, you order another martini for yourself as you let the liquor stir inside of you.

tonight, you felt like you'd hit a dead end. when were you going to learn that this would never work? when would you come to terms with the fact that another guy wouldn't fill the jonathan shaped void in your heart?

reaching into your purse, you grab your phone and put it up to your ear as you heard the dial tone.

"hello?" jonathan's voice spoke from the other end of the line.

"jonathan, hey," you said softly, "i'm sorry for calling, i know you're busy at work right now—"

"do you need me to come pick you up?" he asked, interjecting you and your tipsy apology.

"i-i can call my brother, it's fine. i don't even know why i called—" you said, suddenly feeling very choked up.

jonathan's tone went from casual to concerned in a matter of seconds as he heard you sniffling from the other end of the line. "are you okay? where are you? i'm leaving right now."

maybe it was the gin or maybe it was the harboured feelings you'd been denying for the last year — perhaps both — but all you wanted to do was drunkenly cry and confess the way you felt for him.

screw being just friends, right?

after telling jonathan the address, you let the liquor do the talking. "jonathan?" you asked, to which he hummed over the line, "i just — i have feelings for you."

as you let out your slightly drunken confession, you hang up the phone before he had a chance to respond, throwing back the rest of your martini as you made your way outside. the weather in gotham tonight was miserable, rain pouring down heavily as the night sky was glum.

this was not your best moment — but when jonathan heard your little confession, his cold heart melted a little. even if it took a little liquid courage to get there, then so be it — he'd finally got conformation that you felt the same.

you weren't sure how long you were stood outside in the parking lot of the bar, letting the rain pour down on you dramatically, but you started to shiver. of course you did — you were in heels and a dress, and now, you were soaked from head to toe.

suddenly, you heard your name being called out and you looked to your left to see a familiar car parked, with a familiar man in a suit and glasses rushing over to you. "what are you doing out here? it's pouring." jonathan said with concern, taking his suit jacket off and immediately placing it around you. "come on, i'll take you back to my place — i took the night off of work."

"why?" you ask suddenly, making jonathan raise a brow.

"what do you mean why? just — get in the car, it's pouring." he asked with confusion, but you continued to argue.

"how long are you going to keep pretending were just friends?" you choke back a sob, and he looks at you with concern once more. "friends don't — fuck, friends don't do what we do!"

"how drunk are you?"

"i'm not even that drunk!" you exasperate, "i just wanted an excuse to call you!"

"of course i don't think of you as a friend!" he exclaimed, "but you're out with a new guy every month!"

"because i was scared of telling you how i felt. i only ever wanted you!" you exclaimed back, tears streaming down your face as you were both intoxicated and vulnerable.

as soon as he noticed your tears, he stepped closer to you in the pouring rain, letting it soak you both. his hand suddenly reached up to cup your face gently, "why on earth wouldn't you just tell me?"

"you're my brothers best friend. and were friends, i just figured—"

"what if i don't want to be just friends?" he asked as you blinked your tears away. "haven't you noticed the way i look at you whenever you're around? the way i would drop anything to be there for you, no questions asked?"

everything was happening so fast, from your drunk confession to letting out a year of pent-up emotions — but it didn't matter anymore. you'd fallen for him and now, it was clear that he had fallen for you too.

"then fuck being just friends." you whispered.

within seconds, his lips came crashing down on yours as the gotham rain poured down on the both of you in the parking lot. alcohol was coursing through your veins, but now, so was adrenaline. you weren't sure how it all happened — but in the midst of a big, blurry mess, you ended up in jonthan's bed sharing sloppy, hungry kisses together.

his touch was gentle — loving — and you melted into it. carefully, he slipped your soaking dress off, and you tried not to cower under his gaze. those blue eyes of his had such an effect on you, and he smiled softly as he tried to ease your nerves.

"we don't have to do this — just tell me to stop and we can." he whispered lovingly, gently playing with your hair. "i don't want you to feel pressured since you've been drinking."

"i want to do this jonathan," you insisted, feeling a cocktail of emotions bubbling all at once, "i just really care about you. about us — i don't want to...screw things up between you and me."

"i know," he whispered, "but i promise, nothing will change between us—"

"i've had feelings for you for a long time." you said suddenly. "if we do this, i need to know you're serious."

he hummed softly in acknowledgement and placed a soft kiss on your lips. "ever since last year, when we started to hangout alone. just us..." he trailed off, admiring every detail of your pretty face. "i couldn't stop myself from falling for you."

"god, jonathan. you're such a sappy romantic deep down." you teased lightly, making him smile. "and all this time i thought you were in love with your job."

"well that," he said softly, "but i fell in love with you too."

your breath got caught in your throat as the words fell from his lips. not to mention your heart started to race about a million miles a minute. all this time you'd been harbouring your feelings for jonathan — he'd felt the same.

"i-i fell in love with you too," you confess, rambling on innocently, "s-sorry, i feel like i'm making things so awkward—"

he cuts you off with a kiss, his hands now resting on your hips as his thumbs started to rub soothing circles onto your skin. "relax, sweetheart," he whispered, "just lay back for me. let me show you how much i love you."

slowly, he started to pepper kisses down your stomach and thighs, making you squirm a little under his feather light touch. his hands came to paw at the waistband of your underwear, and if you weren't red in the face before — you definitely were now.

"are you comfortable?" jonathan asked softly, his icy blue eyes piercing through yours as he looked up at you from between your thighs. "is this okay?"

the sight was driving you to the brink of insanity, and with a desperate nod, you look down at him nervously. "y-yeah, just a little nervous." you admitted with honesty.

"have you ever...?" he raised a brow, his breathing slightly ragged.

"y-yeah, no i have before," you say as your heart raced, "i-it's just — it's you."

"what does that mean?"

"you...make me nervous." you say with pink cheeks, nervously giggling as his fingers toyed with the lace of your panties.

"like i said before," his voice dropped several octaves as he slid your underwear down your legs, "let me ease your nerves, darling."

you barely had a chance to react before his hands were gripping at your thighs, and his tongue was licking a fat stripe up your soaked cunt. your head fell back onto the pillows as every pent up anxious thought suddenly left your body, the only thing coming out of your mouth being breathless moans.

as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, he ate you out like his life depended on it — the man was gifted with the knowledge of anatomy, after all. he knew a few things.

his tongue continued to lick all around your dripping folds, lapping up your arousal as you fell apart from his touch. as he took your clit into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan. you could feel him smirk against your cunt when you moaned — which turned you on more if that was even possible.

"j-jonathan," you moaned feverishly, "i-i'm so close—"

"yeah, are you?" he asked with a muffled voice, face still buried in your cunt, "come on, darling, let me taste all of you."

as he worked his skillful tongue in your hole, your back arched and his name started to fall from your lips over and over again like a chant. you swore you started to see stars from the way he was eating you out, devouring your body as if you were something to be cherished. to be worshipped.

as you came on his tongue, jonathan lapped up every last drop of you, sparing no mercy as he continued to lick every part of your pussy even after you'd came.

"s'too much," you whined, "but i need you inside of me, jon."

he finally pulled away from your puffy, needy little hole, wiping his lips and chin with his suit sleeve. he tossed his suit jacket onto the floor in a rush, and you were holding back moans as you watched him undress.

it felt like an eternity (forty-five whole seconds), but he got undressed as he positioned himself between your spread legs. how's that supposed to fit?! you thought to yourself, watching in awe as his thick cock leaked pre cum from the tip.

"take a picture, it'll last longer." he teased, causing you to scoff.

"shut up, i didn't think you'd be...so b-big." you managed to choke out, cheeks burning.

"so, what i'm hearing is that you've thought about us having sex before."

"oh my god, shut — mmph!" as you were about to dish out something back, he pushed his throbbing cock into your cunt without warning, catching you off guard as he split you in two.

"you were saying?" he cooed mockingly, moving his hips gently as you adjusted to his size.

"mm, fuuuck—" you moaned, unable to comprehend his teasing as he fucked you deliciously with his fat cock.

"awe, how cute," he cooed, "you're already cockdrunk. what a needy little thing you are, hm?"

he suddenly took hold of your hips, pulling you closer as he fucked you faster, deeper — harder. you let out a strangled, choked moan as his cock hit all the right places inside of you, rubbing against that spongy spot as he fucked you closer and closer to your release.

jonathan groaned through gritted teeth, trying not to lose his sanity as he felt your warm, wet, hole clench around his cock. "fuck, you're so tight — perfect fucking pussy."

"a-ah, you feel, fuuck — so good, jonathan. right there—!"

"right there, darling?" he asked, emphasizing his words by snapping his hips into you harsher each time, "you like it when i fuck you like this? when i turn you into a desperate little whore, is that it?"

"yes, f-fuck y-yes!" you whine breathlessly, your mind going blank.

"i bet you love getting your pussy stretched like this, don't you?" he cooed with faux sympathy, "you love getting ruined by me."

"m-mhm!" you agree mindlessly, barely able to focus on his words with the way he was brutally pounding your cunt. "l-love you, jon."

"oh fuck— look at you pretty girl. so ruined and so fucking eager to please me." he growled lowly, watching you fall apart underneath him as you took his cock deeper. "god, i love you too — and i love watching you turn into nothing but a little fucktoy for me."

his degrading words didn't match with the saccharine tone that managed to slip through his voice. but you were too fucked out and ruined to put two and two together.

"come on my cock, darling." he commanded softly, feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock. "come for me."

his words pushed you over the edge, and within seconds, you were babbling incoherently again as he fucked you senseless. you couldn't process your thoughts — your brain short circuiting as your release washed over you.

the sight of you getting fucked dumb by him was enough to make jonathan come on the spot, and as you came all over his cock, he was filling your cunt with his warm seed. he let out a low, gravelly moan as he painted your walls white with his cum, and you wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to keep him close.

after the both of you caught your breath in the now oddly quiet bedroom in his apartment, he let out a breath as he winced, pulling out of you.

"so does this mean were just friends?" he joked, pulling you into his arms as you scoffed. "kidding — you're forever mine now, darling. don't you ever forget it."

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

TERROR ANIMUS

KINKTOBER DAY 23 - HOGWARTS AU WITH JONATHAN CRANE

Pairing.| Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary.| There is no one that you despise more than the arrogant Ravenclaw know-it-all who goes by the name Jonathan Crane. But his fascination with you is more dangerous than it seems.

Warnings.| Dubcon, noncon, spell casting, fear toxin but make it magical, p in v, fingering, blackmail, you're both 18.

Word count.| 5k

Notes.| I'm not the best with my Hogwarts knowledge, but this was actually really fun to write and its just an au.

Typically, Gryffindors and Slytherins would be arch nemesis’ within the grand Hogwarts walls. However, over the years of your schooling, you’d seem to have grown an enemy of your own, wrapped in a Ravenclaw cloak and tie. His exasperation had seemed to grow on you like mold, being in his presence soured your mood immediately. 

Jonathan Crane could almost be mistaken for a Slytherin, given the fact that he is a slithering snake. He found great joy in others misfortunes, the greatest in yours, so you made it your ambition to never fail around him. He was an outsider in between these historical grand halls, ambitious in being better than everyone else in the room, his intelligence was undeniable and curiosity of his strength and power would soon be your ruining. 

It was all because he had a fascination with you, one that he perfectly disguised as loathing. Jonathan was never interested in the sporting scene, but he would go out of his way to watch your quidditch games, in high hopes that you'd humiliate yourself. But Jonathan always seemed to be the one disappointed as he strided out of the stadium whilst you’d have everyone cheering for you. 

“What are you staring at Crane?” you grumbled, your face directed to your professor. 

You could feel his dark eyes burn your skin from beside you, coincidently, your professor set a sitting arrangement in hopes of improving the overall grades on average. Jonathan snorted and fixed his tie, your professor continued on with the lecture. 

“Nothing of much importance” he spat out under his breath. 

Your eyes snapped to him, you gave him an intimidating glare, but your looks always went unphased by him. In fact, your enemy smirked at you, his hips shifted underneath the wooden table. 

“If you look at me again, I’ll hex you, capeesh?” you warned in a stern tone. 

“Loud and clear” Jonathan rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the lecture. 

But Jonathan would find other ways to get under your skin, it was biased, you knew it, all he had to do was breathe a tad heavier than usual to get your blood to boil. A mental grin grew on his lips as he felt your body shift in your seat, the sound of your heavy inhale through your nose increased, the way your pen tapped firmly on the benchtop. One time you caused a scene in class merely because he asked how your day was going. You found yourself counting down the time, the words of your professor fell deaf on your ears, the only sound you focused on was the ticks of the ancient clock. 

As class was dismissed, you abruptly stood up and gathered your belongings in a rushed formation. Jonathan smiled innocently at you, but felt a slight bounce of anger as you ignored him completely, he wanted you to acknowledge how badly he loved to irritate you. 

Your anger quickly mellowed out as you felt a firm arm wrap over your shoulders. As you looked up, you smiled softly, Justin Helga, only the most popular boy in Gryffindor house. Usually, you stayed loyal to your Slytherin house, but you made an exception for him. Justin was dreamy, confident, genuine and thoughtful. His appearance was conventionally perfect, he was tall, dark, broad and had a flashing smile. You’d been dating only for a couple of weeks, you were both keeping it lowkey and focused on your studies as primary. But you couldn’t be helped to be smitten by the boy with a lion heart. 

As Jonathan exited the classroom, he managed to pick you out immediately through the pool of students. His jaw clenched, blue eyes twitched as he watched Justin put his slimy paws all over you. Jonathan muttered under his breath, his hand trailed over an old book locked in his arm before he spun his heel and strode off in the opposite direction. 

It was late at night, you hid in your corner of the library, several books open and your hand jotted your thoughts away. The library was always quiet at this time, but when your eyes wandered up, you locked eyes with a familiar set of blue eyes. Jonathan smiled at you, he sat alone also, he always sat alone regardless, but he couldn’t help but to watch you. 

Most of the students were off on break, welcomed back by their loving parents with open arms. But you always remained at Hogwarts, your parents would use the excuse that you needed to focus on your studies. Yet a blind man could see how much of a burden you were in your parents eyes. Jonathan also stayed most breaks as well, you just never cared enough to know why. 

Shortly after, Jonathan stood up and walked towards you, his footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Your body stiffened as you returned your focus to your work, he always wanted to ruin your day, he seemed to get off to it. 

“Can I join you?” Jonathan grinned, his posture cocky. 

You huffed out and immediately slammed your book shut, not caring if you’d get in trouble for breaking the rules. Jonathan whispered your name as you tried to walk past him. 

“What is it Jonathan?” you hissed lightly. 

“You don’t need to hate me so badly, you know?” he responded quietly, but his eyes were loud. 

You frowned towards him, you looked him up and down. Was this him being humorous? 

“Pardon?” you replied bluntly. 

“It’s our last year of school… Do you have enough space for all of this loathing towards me?” Jonathan asked slowly as he leant closer to you. Your head jolted back. 

“You’re pulling a trick on me” you scoffed, but Jonathan shook his head immediately. 

“No, no… It’s just that, I see you here almost every holiday break, who knows, maybe we aren’t so different after all?” Jonathan explained with a raised brow, his fingers taped onto his books. 

Your eyes narrowed towards him, he didn’t smile at you but his expression seemed sweet, genuine. Eventually, you sighed out in defeat and bobbed your head. 

“Are you not welcome home also?” you asked softly, vulnerably. 

“You could say that” Jonathan nodded, his pain flashed through his eyes just like yours would.

A soft sigh left your lips, suddenly you felt bad for him. Even though you always saw him, well tried to ignore him, you wonder why you never wondered why he was here too. Maybe because you assumed he merely wanted to piss you off more. 

“So, can I join you?” Jonathan grinned. 

“No speaking allowed” you warned, a stern expression locked on. 

Jonathan chuckled and sat down opposite you. Every so often, you’d look up, glance at him for only a moment. It was like he could hear you, cause his eyes would dart up, quickly followed up with a grin. The focus on your studies seemed to fade, were his eyes always that blue?

Over the days, you found yourself actually getting along with Jonathan and it felt skeptical. Now, it’s not like you’d tell him your darkest secret, but you could make small talk without wanting to rip his throat out. Not that there was ever much talking, but his presence was nice, it was different. Only sometimes did his appearance frustrate you.

Jonathan was kinder than it seemed, he’d help you out if you ever needed it, not that you’d ever admit that you did indeed need it. Casually, you’d just sit besides each other in the library, courtyards and dining hall. Sometimes you’d get so into conversation that the grin was non-wipeable, even earning a genuine laugh from one another. Whenever small, innocent things like your hands brushing against one another, you’d feel like sparks of electricity run through you. You’d wonder if he felt it too before you blocked that thought out of your head. 

Jonathan Crane was an enigma. His interest in fear was concerning, yet by the way that he explained it, you couldn’t help but to be intrigued in his theories. Sometimes you’d notice Jonathan walking tall throughout the halls. You’d try to follow after him but felt eerie whenever he’d disappear into the woods. It was better not to know, you didn’t care anyways, remember that. 

It wasn’t until the last night of break where you both sat in one of the courtyards. You were both mindlessly talking about each other's thoughts and dreams. Somehow your bodies had inched closer and closer together. It wasn’t until Jonathan made you jokingly smack his shoulder that you realized how near you were.

The laughter quickly died, you both looked into one another's eyes. Your heart pounded in your chest, lower lip begging to be bit onto. Jonathan whispered your name, his hand slowly snaked up to your flustered cheek. His touch was melting at your skin, right as he leaned in to kiss you, the sound of two professors laughing echoed as they walked past nearby. You flew away from him, flashing your mentors a forced smile, Jonathan muttered under his breath. As Jonathan looked over to you, his eyes narrowed with how quickly you were on your feet. 

“Where are you going?” he questioned. 

“It’s late and getting cold” you sighed, avoiding his gaze. 

Jonathan stood up and blocked your path as you tried to slip past him. He whispered your name once more, you hated how sweet it sounded on his tongue. When you ignored him, he repeated himself more firmly. It seemed he had to grip onto your forearms to grab your attention.

“This is wrong” you admitted, finally looking him in the eyes. 

“Wrong? All because our bickering over the years actually meant something more meaningful sweetheart?” Jonathan spoke quietly, gently. His eyes tried to plead with you but you were ignoring him like a sickness.

“This doesn’t mean anything” you objected arrogantly.

“Stop being stubborn sweetheart, I won’t tease you for it” Jonathan assured, blue eyes wide with honesty as he slowly closed into you. “I want you, please” he confessed, begging for you. 

You’ve never seen him beg before. Never seen him so vulnerable, helpless, submissive. His thumbs drew circles as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Your emotions screamed for you to let your guard down, but your pride had thrown away the key. 

You snatched your arms free before any regretful actions could course through. “Goodnight Jonathan” you farewelled without looking into his eyes again. Jonathan watched you flee, his hands resisted to form into fists and jaw twitched from the humiliating rejection.

As the students returned to Hogwarts, so did your neglectful behavior to Jonathan. Your little holiday had to remain in the dark, your friends couldn’t know that you were managing to get along with a particular Ravenclaw. They’d give you so much shit for it, you’ve already expressed him to be a living plague. 

You sat on the balcony with your friends after a long day of schooling. Your mind was zoning out with him still on your mind. They were all talking about their fantastic school break, the trips they took and mischief they got up to. The thought of going back home after graduation stressed you out. You couldn’t wait to be free from everyone. 

Evie called your name, you blinked back to reality, your brows furrowed as you looked at her. All of the girls were grinning towards you. “Here comes your boyfriend” she giggled obnoxiously. 

Your eyes darted over to Jonathan, typically he was striding like he had somewhere important to be. His entire pompous and narcissistic aura soured your mood immediately. Of course, he was heading your way, in front of all of your friends. 

“Come on, do it” Lavender egged on. 

“What?” you glowered. 

“Pull the trip jinx on him” Evie explained, her hands waved around in contribution.

“That was only a joke” you muttered. 

You’d rant about wanting to embarrass him, constantly. Always would you say about pulling the trip jinx on him, just for all of you to laugh at him, bruise that massive ego of his. But, now that he had some dirt on you, you couldn’t even think of doing that. 

“Don’t be a chicken, do it!” Flu chimed in, a frustrated expression on her. 

Your eyes darted over at him, he was looking right at you, a wicked grin on his lips. His footsteps became louder as he approached you. Mentally, sweat was rolling down your skin, you forced your sight away from him. 

“No” you said sternly. 

Everyone sighed heavily, but Evie had this menacing look on. Right as Jonathan proudly walked in between all of you, his eyes locked onto yours, Evie drew her wand from her cloak. Your eyes widened as you saw her raise it in the corner of your eye. 

“Offendo!” Evie shouted as she casted the spell. 

Swiftly, Jonathan tripped onto the stone flooring, he grunted out in pain, his belongings scattered everywhere. Everyone bursted into a fit of laughter, you sat there silently, your throat tightened. His blue eyes shot up to you, waiting for you to do something, anything. But you didn’t, it was clear where your loyalties lied. 

“On your knees for her as per usual, right Crane?” Lavender insulted, a disgusting grin on her lips. 

“In his dreams” Flu snorted. 

“Careful, he might use a love potion on you” Evie joked, as she tiptoed around his books over to you. 

The way he was shooting daggers at you pissed you off. Why was he staring at you like this was your fault, your doings? Your brows scrunched together, fists tightened as he continued to stare at you, surprisingly no words leaving his lips. 

“What did I say about looking at me, you nitwit” you hissed. 

Jonathan lightly laughed and moved up onto his knees. His hands rested on his hips as he looked you up and down, your breathing hitched everytime he looked at you that way. 

“Was just curious about what the boys said about you! A slyth-slut indeed!” Jonathan pronounced proudly. 

Even if they wanted to stop you, the speed you charged at was impressive. Before Jonathan could react, you pinned him to the ground, your hips straddled his, your fist crashed into his jaw. The girls laughed and cheered you on, effortlessly, you held Jonathan to the floor, his legs squirm underneath you as the girls threw insults at him. 

“Next time I’ll break your jaw, capeesh?” you threatened, your anger unleashed. 

But Jonathan only smirked at you, his hips rolled against yours, you shuddered at the sparks of friction and leaped off of him. As your eyes remained glued to one another, you tried to decipher Jonathan’s expression. It was a mixture of anger, excitement, betrayal and, you prayed you got this one wrong, but lust. 

A professor called out your name, your head shot into her direction. Swearing under your breath, she strided over to you all. With a few disappointing words echoed, she wrapped her hand around your bicep and tugged you away from the others. 

“Oh it wasn’t her fault, Professor! He called her a slut!” Evie objected, but her words fell deaf. Your head snapped back, Jonathan was still watching you from the ground, his legs wide apart as he smirked towards you. 

The loyalty inside of you forced you to take the fall for Evie’s harmless spell. You were internally suspended for two days and had to write a sincere apology to Jonathan. But the worst punishment was a lengthy phone call with your parents. Everytime you hoped to put down the phone, their verbal abuse continued on. A disappointment you were, you needed to control your wild anger, apparently. The fuel of hatred towards Jonathan was reignited at full power, you could rip him to shreds. 

The next week, Jonathan and yourself seemed to ignore one another's existence completely. It was contradicting, you were relieved that you didn’t have to hear his irritating voice a little more. Yet found it infuriating that he wouldn’t acknowledge your existence. Sometimes you felt the urge to apologize, but when you took a quick glance at him, those thoughts vanished. 

The week after, you smiled gleefully at the note slipped underneath your door. Justin’s handwriting was perfect. You found yourself kicking your feet off of the end of the bed as you read it over and over again.

You’re the color of green

Your beauty dances like leaves in the wind

You fuel my sweet nature

My luck has struck with you

Meet me in the old theater room at 8pm x

Justin

The poem was cheesy without doubt. But you didn’t care, it was romantic gestures like these that always made your heart swoon. You hid the note and rushed to the bathroom to get ready. The grin on your lips couldn’t be wiped off, thankfully you were alone for no nosy snakes to interrogate you.

You slithered your way out of your common room. The cloak remained over your head as you rushed to the fourth floor. There weren't many lurking around in these areas, but you couldn’t help but to feel a rush of excitement surge through you. 

With your head poking in both directions, you opened the door and slipped into the theater. The room was dark, you raised your wand and the candles turned lit. But the room was empty, cold and honestly, it felt slightly off. It was exactly eight, but Justin seemed to be nowhere in sight. You slowly stepped down towards the stage, your eyes lingered over the empty rows of seats, your anxiety came together in your stomach. 

The footsteps you heard were all too familiar. Your brows scrunched as he came into sight on the stage. As you observed Jonathan, your eyes widened and fists formed, of course this was a stupid ploy from him. There were no words you could form, but your anger brewed and Jonathan found amusement from it. 

“You really are easy, huh?” Jonathan joked, your silence was his glory. “Can I tell you a secret?” Jonathan asked, his voice echoed throughout the room. 

“What? You’re a fucking creep?” you insulted, arms crossed over your chest.

“I’ve come across a book of spells, far too dangerous to be taught within these school grounds” Jonathan disclosed, his arms raised wide as if it was something to be proud of. 

“You seem to be the one with the tongue of a snake” you snarled. “You’re such a freak! You know that right!” you shouted, veins popped out. 

The anger was uncontrollable, you wanted to abuse him in every way possible at this moment. Jonathan laughed and jumped off the stage, his hands rested on his hips as he walked towards you. You continued on, calling him every name in the book. With how caught up you were in your anger, you didn’t notice him close the distance inbetween you too. 

Jonathan wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately, his tongue slipped to the back of your throat. At first, your body accepted the kiss but you managed to shove him off of you and slapped him across the cheek. The strike echoed, redness pulsed over his skin as he smirked towards you. 

“You’re a pig” you spat before you spun your heel and stormed towards the exit. 

“I’ll only tell you to stop once” Jonathan warned. 

But there was no concern in his voice for his next actions. You replied but giving him the finger, the door growing closer. Jonathan pulled his wand from his pocket and flipped it for dramatic effect, as he pointed the tip at you, he casted the spell. 

“Terror animus!” Jonathan roared. 

A flash of green struck you, the mist swarmed around your entire body as you gasped out for air. Quickly, you tumbled to the fall as you tried to breathe. Jonathan smirked, he slowly moved in, his head moved around to observe every reaction surging through you. You were on your side, your body shivering as Jonathan rested his shoe on your hip and guided you on to your back. You looked at him fearfully, Jonathan couldn’t help but to groan out, a truly wicked grin on his lips. 

“Jon-Jon-Jonathan… What have you done to me” you wheezed, your hands up to your chest. 

Your chest felt like it was going to implode. The speed that your heart was beating seemed physically impossible, you couldn’t breathe, your throat was completely swelled up. Through glossy eyes, you could point out Jonathan’s figure, but his feature was completely darkened, you cowered before him. 

“Fear is a fascinating concept, isn’t it?” Jonathan teased as he bent down beside you. 

Your body shivered, you looked so cold, so helpless, like a frightened puppy. It felt inhumane for Jonathan not to pull you into his arms. He stroked the strains of your hair behind your ears, he smiled innocently at you. 

“There, there… You’ll be okay, the spell is only temporary…” Jonathan cooed, as if his words didn’t enter your brain all jumbled up. His voice was demonic, blue eyes burnt into your soul. He easily pulled off your cloak, his eyes admired all of your curves. 

Your body latched onto him for dear life, your eyes squeezed shut as you begged for this nightmare to be over. It was the perfect melody for him. Jonathan tutted by your ear, his hand rubbed your bare thigh just below the hem of your skirt, he always thought the length of your skirt played a dangerous game. You moaned out softly as he gently caressed your skin, his mouth hung wide open, a wicked grin grew on his lips as he observed your eyes roll back, tongue poke out of your open lips, throat swallow intensely. 

On his knees, Jonathan shifted his hips as he felt his trousers to be rather tight. But when the friction caused him to groan out, his head turned to look at the bulge in his pants. A sly smirk rested on Jonathan’s sinister lips, he looked back at you, your eyes batted fearfully at him. 

“Oh my, you’ve gotten me all erect” Jonathan commented casually. 

He made sure to rub his bulge over your bare thighs, you stammered out, your heartbeat rose once more. In an attempt to push your weak body off of him, Jonathan squeezed you against him. 

“I’m going to get you expelled, you’re going to be locked up!” You choked out, eyes swelled with the horror imagery of laying with him. 

Jonathan chuckled and laid you on the cold wooden flooring, he straddled your hips and effortlessly pinned your arms above your head. Taking your jaw in his hand, he pointed your face at his, your swollen eyes blinked slowly. 

“No… You won’t tell a soul, or I’ll make sure that you’ll stay in this state for eternity. You’ll be locked up in a madhouse for the rest of your days” Jonathan laughed darkly as he kissed your cheek. 

“N-no Jon-Jon-ahh” you squirmed. 

Jonathan continued to kiss you softly, tenderly around your heated face. Then his lips teased you by brushing over yours, just like a snake teasing its prey. His intelligence was clearly underestimated. Right when you believed Jonathan would kiss you, he brought to light your new agreement. 

“I have a variety of spells I desire to test on. The species of animals I’ve been testing on doesn’t satisfy me. I need a human subject, so come on, be ambitious for me! Perhaps this can teach you some loyalty, I know you lack that” Jonathan snarled your new agreement, a sinister smirk trapped on his lips. 

You shook your head at the proposition, he was crazy. But Jonathan snorted at your response before he passionately kissed you. You were too terrified to fight back, so you allowed his venomous tongue to slither down into your throat. His hand slipped into your loose hair, twirling it around his fingers before he pulled your head back. 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to do any permanent damage to you. But you’re going to be my little lab rat, you got that? Gonna be my good girl. I’ll experiment on you, then to reward you for your scientific sacrifice, you’ll sit on my cock” Jonathan smirked, your skirt had already rode up to your waist, so his crotch grinded against your exposed cream panties with a growing damp spot. 

“Jonathan please!” you begged, tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“Shush, I’ll be gentle, I promise” Jonathan soothed, his hands traveling to your hips. 

It was like there was an invisible bind to your wrists, you were too fearful to move. His slim digits teased around your panties, once they looped around the bands, he tugged them down to your knees. An animalistic growl left his lips as he stroked your folds, they were glistered, you wanted him just as badly. Without forewarning, Jonathan pushed a digit inside of you, his dark eyes widened with arousal at the tight warmth. Once his digit completely vanished inside your sweet walls, he added another. The palm of his hand rubbed over his bulge, his eyes couldn’t get enough. They’d constantly snap from your pussy to your gorgeous expressions. The moans you whined out were to die for. 

As he took his fingers into his mouth, he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his cock. His body fell on top of yours, hands spread your legs apart, he looked you deeply in the eye as he lined his tip with your entrance. You stared back at him with wide eyes, blossoming with fear. Jonathan moaned out, a pure smile of glee fullness on his lips. 

“Forgive me, I’ve never been with a girl before” Jonathan muttered as he pressed his length in. “But I’ve studied human anatomy inside out, literally. So this shouldn’t be too difficult to navigate” he continued on as he slowly pushed himself in further. 

Jonathan shuddered out, the vibrations of pleasure rolled over him. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, the moans that formed out of his mouth were damn right pathetic. But there was not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his figure. Even though you hadn’t seen his size, you could still manage to figure how large he was. But you weren’t sure if it was just a trick in your mind, or if he was actually going to rip you in half. 

“How many cocks have you had, hm?” Jonathan asked, his cock halfway in. 

“T-two..” you choked out. 

Jonathan flared his nostrils at your answer. A massive part of him really hoped you’d say that you were a virgin too. Your arms latched around him, despite how badly you wanted to bash his head in, you needed to hold onto reality. Jonathan smiled as he continued to push his cock into your velvet walls, every push ran a new wave of pleasure over him. 

“Knew you wanted me, you were too much of a stuck up bitch to convince me otherwise” Jonathan hissed out, his cock almost buried in deep.

You whined out in response, your walls squeezed him repetitively. Even though your vision was blurred, Jonathan’s presence felt frightening, intimidating. His breaths were like a beast, his mouth nibbled over your earlobe whilst his hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt. 

“You’ll show me some fucking respect from now on” Jonathan commanded harshly. 

You whimpered out and nodded your head quickly towards him, desperately feeling a compulsion to obey him. That sweet, timid expression of yours was pathetic, it made his cock twitch rapidly in between your tight walls. 

“You’re so beautiful when you’re afraid” Jonathan complimented softly. Then, like a balloon popping, Jonathan felt his orgasm reach the edge. “Oh fuck” Jonathan whined as he quickly yanked his cock out of you. 

He couldn’t risk getting you pregnant, he at least needed to have some fun with you first. Jonathan pumped his coated cock in his hand, his ropes of white spurted across your stomach and shirt that fell loose from your skirt, Jonathan cursed to himself as his strokes slowed down. His chest undulated as his eyes fluttered, a permanent smirk was locked on his lips as he squeezed the base of his shaft. 

“I’ll stay with you until the spell wears off” Jonathan heaved out. 

He tucked himself back into his pants, propped himself back onto his elbows as he grinned widely to himself. He observed your timid state, your body continued to shiver, from a mixture of the coldness, pleasure and fear. The semen on your body was wiped off with your cloak. 

“H-h-how lon-ng?” you squeaked, body still trembling like leaves in the wind. 

“I’m not entirely sure, there's a number of factors to take into consideration” Jonathan replied. 

You inched closer to him, Jonathan sighed and welcomed you into his arms, he held you tight. A part of Jonathan regretted not bringing a notepad to jot down everything. Oh well, he was sure he’d remember this perfectly. His fingers teased your sensitive entrance, your hips rocked against him, breathing deep as you kept your face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Quite fascinating” Jonathan commented with his fingers deep inside of you, you moaned as his fingers curled. “Should we just stay here the night? Hm? It’s quite cozy and certainly secluded…” Jonathan suggested devilishly. 

It wasn’t exactly cozy, but there was enough supplies hidden behind the stage to change that. When Jonathan left, you anxiously waited for him to come back. It felt like he was gone for hours, even though it was only a few minutes. He’d returned with old thick blankets in his arms, ones that were used in a play years ago. The sheet is laid on the ground and Jonathan rolled you onto it, he draped the large fabric across your bodies and held you.

“You belong to me now, capeesh?” Jonathan mocked, a cheeky grin on his lips. You looked up at him and slowly batted your tear filled lashes.

“Yes Jonathan” you replied as his fingers trailed back down to your core. 

“You should have submitted yourself to me in the courtyard” Jonathan clicked his tongue. 

But there was no regret on his end. This ordeal seemed much more fitting anyways. How was it that you were the Slytherin, yet he was the viper and you were nothing more than a helpless mouse.

[cillsworld]

My devotion to you✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary|you fall for your corrupt psychiatrist and he takes advantage of that.

Word Count|2765

Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap, abuse of power?, mentions of violent acts, oral(m rec!), rough sex, forced breeding!, baby trapping, (very) mild use of fear gas, mentions of drugs.

Notes|Jonathan is canonically 26 and reader is 18, reader is horny asf which is so real honestly like girl is down baddddddd. Also this is my second fic/piece of writing ever so that's cool, honestly it's a bit repetitive but I don't hate it sooo enjoy!

masterlist

You had always been an aggressive individual, constantly getting into fights both verbal and physical, being a headache to your parents, teachers, fellow peers and sometimes even the police.

Their last straw was when you beat a girl to unconsciousness for whatever irrational reason your brain had come up with and decided that you needed to be confined in a nut-house in order to change.

The first few days you were here, you were kept in solitary confinement with a straight-jacket to contain you from scratching your own eyeballs out, if you weren't insane before, that experience surely confirmed it.

But your disdain for the asylum went away as soon as your first session with Dr. Crane started, in high-school you were never big on crushes or boys really, since they all looked like wet rats and you couldn't bring yourself to be attracted to them.

That all changed when you saw the man that was meant to be your psychiatrist, Dr. Crane was the only thing keeping your remaining sanity intact, the man was so breathtakingly beautiful that all you ever did in your free-time was fantasize about him and count down the minutes to when you'd get to see him again.

Each session would consist of your failed attempts to flirt with him while he tried to bring your attention back towards the topic at hand, he was also the only psychiatrist you hadn't been violent against, that's why he was the one who actually stayed, just like you wanted him to.

So here you were, a smile present on your face as he walked into the room where you sat, confined by a straight jacked but nonetheless excited to see him, "you look unusually giddy today, what's the occasion?" He questioned while taking a seat across from you, looking down at the clipboard in-hand as he adjusted his glasses.

"I'm getting to see you after a whole week!" You responded with a giggle, leaning over the desk a bit as you usually did to get a better look at him, he looked back up with a raised eyebrow and sighed.

"Maybe if you didn't attack that man in the cafeteria, you wouldn't have been kept in solitary for a week and you would be able to see me earlier" he spoke with that usual stern tone of his, his words making you frown immediately, he looked and sounded so upset with you that you wanted to cry on the spot.

"He took my apple! What else was I supposed to do?" You retorted defensively almost immediately, jumping up a bit, all he did was stare at you, with that look that he knew would make you contemplate everything you just did, you calmed down and slumped back in your chair with that cute, conflicted look on your face.

"I'm sorry for yelling doctor Crane, are you mad at me?" You questioned quietly, your voice going soft and barely above a whisper, he swallowed with pursed lips before looking back down at his clipboard, writing something down that you tried to peer over to get a look at.

"No.. No, I'm not mad" he responded dismissively with a shake of his head, "but I have to say, this session isn't starting quite the way I had hoped" he continued making your expression falter, looking back up at you, "don't you think you've given me enough trouble for the week?"

"I gave you trouble doctor Crane?" You questioned with confusion lacing your voice and expression, leaning over the table with furrowed eyebrows, hugging yourself tighter then you were being forced to.

"Yes. I wasn't going to tell you but your little outburst caused me a lot of trouble with my seniors, they think I'm not making progress with you fast enough and they should give you to someone else" you immediately opened your mouth to protest when he said that but a raise of his hand signaling you to keep quiet was enough to make you shut yourself up.

"Now, I'm going to need you to be well-behaved for this session or I might as well hand you over" he threatened, almost daring you to challenge his words, "so.. Are you going to be good for me today?"

God why'd he have to word it like that, you quickly nodded while absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together, "yes I will Doctor Crane, I promise!" You responded, perking up and he nodded muttering a small "good", almost smirking at your compliance of anything he says in response to the simplest threat of being away from him.

“Now, I want you to tell m-“ you couldn’t help but cut him off, at this point it was a habit of yours and a casual occurrence, “what’s in that box doctor crane?” You questioned with a tilted head, nodding towards the briefcase that he’d brought in for the first time.

Usually your interruption would annoy him but this time it caused a rush of excitement in him, “I’m glad you asked darling..” your face heated up at the nickname that he called you rarely, every time he had said it, it had caught you off guard.

He opened the little black briefcase and as soon as he did the air felt different, heavy, your heartbeat had started to rapidly increase and every inch of your skin was becoming sweaty and clammy as anxiety filled you and your brain went panic mode.

”What’s in there doctor Crane?” You continued with the questioning now looking as if you were incredibly sick, your skin pale and flushed, “this, is a special creation of mine.. it’s what I use to keep extreme cases in line..”

His voice gradually became more raspy and deeper as he talked about it, looking into the briefcase with so much admiration that you almost wished you were it.

“I don’t like it..” you mumbled weakly as he brought it closer to you, instinctively leaning back as he did so, your vision going a bit blurry as your stared down into it, Crane on the other hand scoffed at your words.

“You aren’t supposed to like it" he replied in an almost snappy tone, closing it shut as he did so, "my dear, I need you to understand that if you keep misbehaving as you have recently.."

"I won't hesitate to give you an actually proper dose of what is in here" he patted the case as if to emphasize his point and you let out a soft gasp, "why would you do that doctor crane? I said I was sorry.." Your voice shaky and quiet, starting to understand why those patients you'd overhear would always talk of Crane as if he was the devil.

"You're already scared?" The way he said your name had a mocking undertone in it that you hadn't yet heard from him, "I said if you misbehave" he felt like a broken record, constantly repeating the same things and not getting much progress in return and frankly it was starting to annoy him too much for your own good.

He saw that sense of relief wash over you at his words, he couldn't help but want to ruin that peace and bring back the look in your eyes that sent his heart racing, "or.. I could give you a demo right now?"

"No-" you cut him off quickly, "that.. That's not necessary" you couldn't quite put a pin on the look in his eyes, was it amusement? Excitement? Either way it gave you a rush of adrenaline you enjoyed.

"are you sure about that? because I have an inkling that you'll get me in trouble yet again, if you don't learn that your actions have consequences" he was so serious, more then usual, while speaking that you couldn't even try to trick yourself into thinking he was bluffing.

"I would never do anything to get you in trouble.. Not- not on purpose" you spoke hesitantly, not trusting your words at all, "really?" He mocked with raised eyebrows, "if you're really that devoted to me why don't you prove it?" He spoke in a bored tone, leaning back in his chair as he did so.

"how do I do that?" You questioned quickly, a subtle pout on your face, "I don't know" he retorted with a click of his tongue, "you tell me.."

As soon as the idea came to your brain your heart went racing, maybe you escalated things too quickly, dropping to your knees and scooting under the table to go towards Jonathan, when you peaked out of the table from in between his legs to make contact with his widened eyes, you tried not to smile, "I can pleasure you? To prove my devotion of course.."

"well that's certainly an idea.." As usual his tone was hard to read, he really was contemplating, he'd have to admit the sight of you between his legs batting your eyelashes at him was a pretty one, if that wasn't enough to make him uncomfortably hard you being in a straight jacket on top of that made it harder for him to refuse.

"get one chance and you become a bitch in heat.." His voice was so low that you almost didn't catch what he said and you almost wished you didn't, your cheeks heated up and you opened your mouth in protest but he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth, shutting you up.

"if we're going to do this I'm gonna need you to stay quiet okay?" He told you and you quickly nodded, "good, now get to work" he said dismissively before removing his hand and leaning back in his chair, unzipping his pants and pushing it down just enough that it'd be past his hips and you could see the outline of his cock through his boxers.

It seemed almost uncomfortable as the boxers seemed like they'd burst open any minute with how his cock was straining against them, your mouth was watering at the sight though you looked up at him in confusion when he made no move to take the boxers off.

He raised an eyebrow looking down at you, "what? I really need to spell it out for you?" His tone was so obviously condescending that you almost felt ashamed it was turning you on, "your hands may be useless but you still have a good set of teeth princess, use it"

So you did, craning up your neck to take the hem of his boxers between your teeth and slowly pull them down enough to release him from, you almost gasped at the sight of him, he was a little above average in length and girthy enough to make you question if you could fit him properly in your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a strip under it from the base till the tip of his cock, taking the head in your mouth, licking the pre-cum, his hand came up to take a fist full of your hair startling you, "speed up darling, I don't have all day" he told you in an unamused tone.

You swallowed him halfway and started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks in an effort to impress him, your body pressed up against his legs as you moaned around him.

All you got in response was a little groan, his grip on your hair tightened and he started pushing your head up and down at a faster pace, pushing you deeper each time, you looked up at him to see his flushed face and pretty blue eyes roll to the back of his head as he cursed under his breathe.

The sight sent waves of pleasure to your core and made you uncomfortably wet, "that's it princess, put your pretty mouth to good use" he muttered under his breathe as his thrusts became faster and more desperate.

Suddenly he pushed you all the way down and you eyes widened from surprise, gagging around him for a moment as you tried to adjust to the foreign breaching of your throat, your nose pushed into his trimmed hair as you whined, looking up at him through watering eyes, he let out a soft with at the sight.

"oh don't cry darling.." He spoke with feign sympathy, "this is what you wanted right? To pleasure me?" He mocked as you whined once more, instinctively trying to pull back for air, he let you go after a few moments, only giving you a few seconds to breathe before pushing you down again.

He bobbed you at the same place, letting himself bask in the pleasure as you gagged and choked with each thrust, it went on for a bit before he completely pulled you off and up so he could see you properly, standing on your knees a line of spit was connected from the base of his cock to your lips.

He reveled in the sight of your flushed face with tears streaming down it, messy hair and chest heaving, "good.. You did good darling.." He said under his breath, patting your cheek a bit too harshly, "but you didn't cum doctor crane.." You responded quietly, a pout on your glossy lips.

"oh that's not for you to worry about" he responded dismissively before standing up and pulling you with him, making you whimper from the pressure on your scalp, he turned you around before shoving you on the table and you let out a squeak of surprise.

"what're you doing doctor crane?" You questioned quietly, even though you knew the answer specially when he reached for the hem of your trousers, you wanted him to tell you.

"m'gonna fuck you baby.. " his raspy voice responded while undressing your lower half as blood rushed towards your face, "you can see it as a reward for your hard work.."

You could feel the head of his cock rubbing on your cunt, you squirmed and pushed back against him with a whine, urging him on, he grabbed your hair yet again and pulled you up, bending your body uncomfortably as he leaned down, "stop being so desperate darling, it's not a good color on you.."

Before you even had time to process it he pushed almost all the way in and your jaw dropped as a loud moan escaped you, his grip on your hair tightened as your expression contorted from the pain and pleasure of it all, eyes fluttering shut.

"fuck, I knew you'd have a tight little cunt from the moment I saw you" he breathed out, staying still for the moment to let the both of you adjust before pulling all the way out till the tip and then thrusting in again, repeating the process as loud moans escaped you.

"thought I told you to stay quiet earlier.." He muttered before letting your hair go and untying his tie, "but that's just how you bitches are huh? Get a good cock in you and you lose all control of yourself" you whined in protest but not for long before he gagged you with his tie and tied it behind your head.

He held your hips up as his thrusts soon resumed, letting you lay limp on the rocking table, squirming and mewling as he chased his own release, he reached a hand down to start rubbing at your clit with enough pressure to make you see stars and clench tightly around his dick, making him release a loud groan.

"pussy so tight she's fuckin chocking me.." He turned you around, deciding he wanted to see your face while you both came, see your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs shook from the pleasure, he didn't falter in his thrusts while you came, not caring if he was over stimulating you and more focused on his release.

Even though your head felt blank and too foggy to form a coherent thought you could feel him twitching inside you and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, making sure he came deep inside you.

Once her came off his high he quickly pulled out, "fuck, what did you do.." He panted out, raising one of your legs up to get a good look of his come dripping out of your hole and down your ass.

"now why would you do that?" He questioned; knowing you weren't allowed to or were on birth control, rising up and removing your makeshift gag, as soon as he did you craned up to kiss his stiff form.

"I love you Jonathan" you told him after pulling away with a smile, not bothering to answer his 'silly' question, all while he stayed a bit frozen, now realizing that he'd gotten himself into major shit.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙣❞

Pairing:

Jonathan Crane x Innocent!Reader

Summary:

They were best friends since high school then he broke her when she became his Patient X.

Warning(s): Dub-con. Pervert/depraved!Jonathan. Implied corruption. Implied abduction. Power imbalance. Naivety. Nudity. He struggled with his feelings for her. This is dark due to mental health and toxin usage. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 1.5k

“The mind can only take so much.” He had once said that to one of his minions, and he knew that it was true when he was accosted by his own toxin. He had seen things, the things he wished he hadn’t seen. His best friend dying over and over. The only person he’d ever cared about.

The door closed behind him with a quiet thud, he threw his scarecrow burlap mask to the side table in the foyer carelessly. 

Something was different tonight, and he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Jon?” A voice murmured from the end of the hallway, making him inhale sharply.

He exhaled softly before turning to her, “it’s time to go to bed, my dear.” He murmured; his eyes raked over her figure to ensure nothing was out of place.

He used his creation to experiment on her phobia, and after so many trials and tribulations, he had broken her. Not in the way he had imagined, but he broke her, nevertheless.

She went from one of the smartest people he had ever got to known with fire that could scorch everything, reverting to an innocent docile person that he had to take care of. Obviously after what happened, he couldn’t give her back to her family, but it had been five years since he took her in. Of course, he had to implant a farce where she was abducted and declared she was dead.

Something was different tonight, and he did not understand what it was.

He sat down on the edge of her mattress, fingers brushing against the hem of her t-shirt, his touch lingering as he slowly lifted them. She was delicate in his hands, and he couldn't help but feel protective and possessive over her this time. To him the feeling felt foreign.

With a gentle tug, he pulled the shirt over her head, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Her breathing quickened, and Jonathan could tell she was nervous. He shushed her gently, assuring her as he did every night. "It's okay.” He cooed softly, she was his best friend and only she got to see the side of him that no one else would ever get.

He traced his fingers along the waistband of her pants,  and with a subtle tug, they slid down her legs, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her bra and underwear.

He could see right through the bundle of energy she was radiating. "Y/N, you don't have to be afraid of me," he assured her once again as he gently tugged at her bra strap, loosening it. "I'd never hurt you."

You broke her. His mind whispered, almost viciously teetering on victorious as if he was proud that he broke his best friend.

“I know you won’t.” she murmured shyly. Her voice was soft and sweet.

"That's my good girl," he said softly, his warm breath brushing against her arm. With gentle fingers, he unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, taking in the sight of her perfect breasts. His possessiveness spiked once more.

He had never once looked at her breasts or anywhere on her body when he would help her to change clothes.

After what happened in the Arkham Asylum, being sprayed in the face with his toxin, and seeing what he had saw, it shifted something inside of him.

Perhaps there was a reason why he kept her like a singing docile bird in a gilded cage. The one that did not fly too far, always circling around him.

He turned to the side slightly on the bed and grabbed a large t-shirt from beside him.

She looked at it, confusion flitted her curious gaze. “Is that my shirt?”

"No, this shirt is for you to sleep in tonight," he explained gently, guiding her to slip it over her head. It was huge on her, dwarfing her frame, but it was comfortable, and that was all that mattered.

He could feel the heat emanating from her body as he slid his hands up her thighs, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingertips. His touch was gentle yet strangely possessive as he reached for her underwear under the shirt, slowly sliding them down her legs. "There we go.”

As soon as his fingers enclosed the underwear that she had stepped out of, he froze when he felt something damp on the fabric.

“Jonny?”

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of her sweet, innocent voice calling him "Jonny". He couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions - protectiveness, possessiveness, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He could feel her looking at him. “Are you okay?”

Clearing his throat "I'm fine, my dear," he said reassuringly, forcing a smile as his fingers tightened on the fabric. "Now, how about we get you into bed?”

He watched her climb onto the bed, his eyes never leaving her. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as she turned away from him. It was then that he brought the underwear to his face, inhaling deeply. He couldn't help but inhale her scent, memorizing every detail of it. It was intoxicating, like a drug to him. As she turned her face to him, he quickly tucked the underwear away in the pocket of his dress pants, trying to regain his composure.

She looked concerned, “Jonny?”

"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice more shaky than he would have liked. "Now, why don't you snuggle under these covers and get warm?"

When he was helping her lifting the comforter up, the long t-shirt ridden high on her thighs while she accidentally spread her legs while trying to get underneath the comforter.

He couldn't help but notice how her legs spread, revealing more of her soft skin of her thighs. His possessiveness flared once more, and he couldn't resist reaching out to gently pull the shirt down further, covering her thighs completely.

He noticed the slight blush on her cheeks and knew she was embarrassed. He chuckled softly, brushing off her impending apology. "Don't worry about it."

His heart melted at the sight of her sweet smile, and he couldn't resist leaning over to gently press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well, my dear."

The next morning, she was still sleeping soundly as he opened the door to check on her while wiping down his glasses with a soft cloth before placing it back on his face.

Jonathan couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked, all warm and snuggled under the covers. He strode over to her bed, “wake up, Y/N.”

A groan of protest emitted from her throat as she burrowed into the pillow.

He chuckled softly, knowing she wasn't a morning person. He was comforted to know despite breaking her, she still inhibited some pieces of her old self. "Come on, it's time to start your day." He gently pulled the covers off of her, revealing her body under the t-shirt which so happened to ride up on where her thighs met her ass, revealing a sliver of her bare pussy. He swallowed hard.

He couldn't believe how innocent she looked. The sight of her exposed pussy under the fabric of the t-shirt that rode up under where her thighs were was driving him crazy.

He couldn't resist any longer. With a trembling hand, he pulled the t-shirt up further, exposing her entire pussy to his hungry gaze. It was even more beautiful than he had imagined.

He couldn't help but to release an inaudible groan as he looked at her pretty pussy. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. He continued to shake her gently, "wake up, darling." His voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “It’s time to get dressed.”

He watched her carefully, noticing the way she stood by the bed. He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down on it, spreading his legs apart. "Come here." His voice was soft but commanding.

His heart raced as she stood between his legs. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything but how much he wanted her. "We’re going to do something a bit different today," he murmured, “turn around.”

He watched her turn around despite her confusion, revealing her back to him. He then laid a hand on the middle of her back, telling her to bend over.

The t-shirt ridden up to her upper thighs as she bent over, and he bit down his bottom lip as he lifted the hem of the t-shirt to reveal her pussy again.

“Aren’t you supposed to put an underwear on me first before you do anything else?” she asked quietly.

He smirked softly, "Not this time." He leaned in closer to her, his warm breath brushing against her skin. He could feel himself trembling as he looked at her exposed pussy.

He leaned in as close as he could towards her pussy without touching her and then he inhaled deeply, smelling her pussy then his eyes rolled back in pleasure, feeling the familiar sensation of his cock swelling in his dress pants. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweet, feminine scent that bombarded his senses.

“Jonny?” His eyes refocused when he heard her sweet voice.

"Shh, darling.” He whispered. "I was just making sure everything is fine," he lied as he inhaled deeply again, his eyes closing.

Something was different last night, and it showed when he saw her differently.

[the-exception-to-the-rules]

I don't think the Halloween "prank" on Jonathan Crane in Masters of Fear was Bo's idea. That manipulativeness and clinical premeditation has high school girl all over it. It was Sherri's plan to humiliate and hurt Jonathan, a boy who had done nothing to her. She knew he had a crush on her and exploited it. It is fitting that she died while Bo was paralyzed.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

would you consider writing a part two for you are the right one 🥹? it was sooo amazing

You Are The Right One - Jonathan Crane x Reader (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader High School!Jonathan Crane,

Word Count: 7902

Warnings: bullying, fake gun, minor character death

Summary: Prom night (not much else to say XD)

A/N: never expected so much support on the first part, but here we are again, lol I wanted to keep this part simple so yeah :P sorry it took so long to get to this request, but here it is 💚

(Part 1)

-

Jonathan had never expected much from their friendship, but Y/n quickly became a surprising beacon of kindness in his life. From the very beginning, she treated him with genuine warmth, defending him against the mockery of their peers without hesitation. No matter how others viewed their unlikely pairing, him, the lanky, awkward outcast, and her, the stunning girl who seemed to effortlessly command attention, Y/n never let societal judgments deter her. She stood by him, offering support and friendship with a sincerity that left him in awe. 

In a world where he often felt invisible, she made him feel seen, valued, and accepted. Her laughter was like music to his ears, and her smile could brighten even his darkest days. Jonathan treasured her not only for her beauty but for her unwavering belief in him. Every moment they shared reinforced the depth of his feelings, he found himself drawn to her in a way he could never have anticipated. 

She was a rare light in his life, illuminating the shadows of his insecurities, and he couldn't help but cherish every second they spent together.

Jonathan had become adept at sneaking out from his grandmother's house, having cleverly slipped her a mild sedative while making her tea to ensure she sleep while he slipped away to spend time with Y/n. This little escapade had turned into a routine, a cherished ritual that gave him a sense of freedom he had rarely experienced before. 

Tonight, they found themselves in Y/n’s cozy bedroom, the soft glow of fairy lights along her wall casting a warm ambiance as they settled in for an evening of studying. Y/n lay comfortably on her bed, surrounded by scattered textbooks and notes, her hair spilling around her like a halo. Meanwhile, Jonathan sat at her desk, the clutter of papers and books mirroring the chaos in his mind.

As he focused on the math problems before him, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/n. She had a way of losing herself in her studies, her brow furrowed in concentration, and he found himself mesmerized by her determination. It was in these quiet moments that Jonathan’s internal struggle intensified. The more time he spent with her, the deeper his feelings grew, a feeling he had tried to suppress, fearing the potential for heartache.

He felt like a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece, and Y/n was that missing piece, effortlessly filling a void he had long felt. Yet, doubt crept in, he worried about his place in her life. Did she see him as just a friend, a study buddy? Or was there something more beneath the surface? She already knew how he felt, but he wanted to know her feelings better. When she had rejected him, she was so kind, and even mentioned liking him too, but how far did this like go? He wasn’t sure. 

As the minutes slipped away, Jonathan felt an undeniable pull towards her, a longing to bridge the gap between friendship and something deeper. He could hear her soft laughter mingling with the rustling pages, and it made his heart race. In that small, intimate space, he felt both elated and terrified, caught in a delicate balance of hope and uncertainty. 

“Okay, so I think I finally understand this stuff..” Y/n said, glancing up at him with a playful grin. “Just don’t ask me to explain it. I might just confuse both of us.”

Jonathan chuckled, the sound a little breathless as he caught her eye. “I never thought someone could make this subject hard, but you manage to surprise me.”

“Hey, this is hard!” she laughed, tossing a crumpled piece of paper at him. “But seriously, I need to pass this shit.”

“Trust me, you will,” he replied, a warmth spreading in his chest as he admired her enthusiasm.��

As he scribbled down a few notes, Jonathan couldn’t help but steal glances at her. Y/n had a way of losing herself in her studies, her brow furrowed in concentration, and he found himself mesmerized by her determination. It was in these quiet moments that his internal struggle intensified. The more time he spent with her, the deeper his feelings grew, a feeling he had tried to suppress, fearing the potential for heartache.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Y/n nudged him playfully, pulling him from his thoughts.

“U-uh, yes! Yep…” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Just…admiring your studying technique..” he knew he sounded stupid, but it was better than admitting he got distracted looking at her. 

She rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Well, you’re the one who’s keeping me company. That makes it a lot easier. Plus, we’re basically a study power duo now.”

As they settled down from study session, Y/n casually flipped through her notes, her eyes lighting up. “So, have you thought about prom yet? It’s coming up pretty soon!”

Jonathan’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of prom. Memories of Bo and Sherry’s relentless bullying flashed in his mind, their taunts echoing like a bad dream. He had been planning his revenge on them for weeks, envisioning the perfect way to make them pay for the humiliation they’d caused him. But as he looked at Y/n, her excitement contagious, he forced himself to focus on the present.

“Prom, huh?” he replied, trying to keep his tone light despite the turmoil brewing inside him. “Yeah, I guess it’s around the corner. Are you planning to go?”

Y/n leaned back on her bed, a dreamy expression on her face. “Of course! I’ve already got a dress picked out. It’s this gorgeous red color that really pops. I can’t wait to see everyone dressed up.”

Jonathan felt a pang of jealousy mixed with admiration. “I bet you’ll look amazing,” he said, his voice genuine despite his internal conflict. 

In his mind, he couldn’t help but picture her twirling in that dress, her laughter ringing through the air. It was a beautiful image, but it only fueled the darker thoughts that had taken root.

“Do you have a date?” he asked, casually, even though he was bracing himself for her answer. The thought of her going with someone else made his stomach twist.

She shrugged, her expression turning thoughtful. “Not yet. I mean, it would be nice to go with someone, but I’m also okay with just having fun with friends. What about you?”

Jonathan hesitated, a mix of emotions swirling within him. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’m just…more focused on other things right now.” 

Y/n tilted her head, sensing the shift in his mood. “Oh? Like what? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

He forced a smile, trying to keep the darkness of his revenge plan at bay. “Just school stuff, you know? Nothing too exciting.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, I’m here,” she said, her voice softening. “I just want you to be happy, Jonathan.”

Her kindness wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, making it harder to maintain the façade he’d built around his plans for Bo and Sherry. The more she spoke, the more he found himself torn between his desire for revenge and his growing affection for Y/n. 

-

As their conversations flowed effortlessly, neither of them noticed the time slipping away until the room grew darker, the soft glow of fairy lights casting long shadows across the walls. Jonathan glanced at the clock on Y/n’s desk, his heart sinking a little as he realized how late it had gotten. 

“I should probably head home,” he said reluctantly, pushing his chair back from the desk. A wave of disappointment washed over him, he always wished their time together could last just a little longer. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s getting late,” Y/n replied, her tone a mix of understanding and regret. She sat up on the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Jonathan smiled, grateful for the gesture. He gathered his things, shoving his books into his backpack with a sense of urgency, not wanting to leave but knowing he had to. As he moved, he stole glances at Y/n, who was already standing by the door, her silhouette framed in the soft light. 

When he reached her, Y/n opened the door, and the cool evening air rushed in, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from outside. “Thanks for coming over, Jonathan. I had a great time,” she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

“Me too. I always do,” he replied, his heart racing slightly as their eyes locked. The moment felt charged, a silent understanding hanging between them. For a brief second, he considered leaning in, maybe even telling her how much she meant to him, but the weight of his unspoken feelings held him back. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay walking back?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “I know it’s dark, and you never know who might be lurking around.” 

He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “I think I can handle it.” 

“Well, just know, I can walk you back anytime..” she said.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, the warmth spreading through him again. 

As he stepped outside, the chill of the night air hit him, grounding him in reality. He turned back to look at Y/n one last time, her expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Goodnight, Jonathan,” she called after him, her voice echoing in the stillness of the night.

As Jonathan walked down the driveway, the gravel crunching softly underfoot, he felt the cool night air wrapping around him. Just as he reached the end of the driveway, he heard Y/n call out behind him, her voice breaking the stillness of the evening.

“Jonathan! Wait!” 

He turned to see her jogging toward him, her cheeks slightly flushed, a mixture of nervousness and determination etched across her features. His heart raced again, curiosity and hope flooding his senses.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice as he took a step closer to her.

Y/n stopped in front of him, her breathing slightly uneven as she gathered her thoughts. “I, um…I’ve been thinking,” she started, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. “And I just…I really want to ask you something important.”

Jonathan’s stomach knotted with anticipation, his mind racing. He held his breath, waiting for her to continue.

“I was wondering…would you be my prom date?” The words tumbled out in a rush, her eyes wide with a mix of hope and anxiety. “I mean, if you want to, of course! It’s totally okay if you’re not interested or already have someone else in mind. I just thought…it could be fun.”

A wave of disbelief washed over Jonathan. This was the last thing he had expected. His heart soared at her request, but confusion washed over him. He had been planning his revenge on Bo and Sherry, but here was Y/n, standing in front of him, and all he could think about was how perfect it would be to go to prom with her.

“Wow, Y/n…I, uh…” he stammered, searching her eyes for reassurance. “I’d love to go with you.”

Her face broke into a bright smile, the nervousness melting away as relief washed over her. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah, I really mean it,” he replied, a smile creeping onto his face. “I can’t think of anything better than going to prom with you.”

Y/n’s joy was palpable as she took a step closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Great! This is going to be so much fun!” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Jonathan in an enthusiastic hug. He froze for a brief second, taken aback by the warmth and affection enveloping him. The scent of her hair, a sweet mix of shampoo and something floral, filled his senses, and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of happiness.

After a heartbeat of surprise, he instinctively hugged her back, his arms encircling her waist gently. She fit perfectly against him, and for that moment, all his worries faded away, leaving just the two of them standing together in the soft glow of the streetlights.

“Thank you for saying yes,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice muffled but filled with joy.

“Of course,” he replied, feeling his heart race as he savored the moment. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

As they slowly pulled away from the embrace, Y/n’s cheeks were flushed with happiness, and Jonathan couldn’t help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. 

“Okay, I should really let you go before we stand here all night,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “But I’m so glad we’re going together!”

“Me too,” Jonathan agreed, still feeling the warmth of her hug lingering on his skin. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Jonathan!” she said, taking a step back toward the house.

He smiled, watching as she waved at him with a radiant smile before turning to head inside.

He turned back to the driveway, feeling lighter than he had in a long time, a smile tugging at his lips as he walked away. Tonight had turned out to be more than he could have ever hoped for, and as he made his way home, thoughts of prom, and the girl he was going with, filled his mind.

-

Jonathan lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a grin he couldn’t shake. He replayed the evening in his mind, the warmth of Y/n’s hug, the sparkle in her eyes when he said yes. She’d asked him to prom, and he couldn’t help the thrill that surged through him. It was almost unreal, a dream he hadn’t even dared to hope for. He was going to prom with Y/n, and for once, he felt like maybe he could be something more than the awkward, outcast “loser” everyone saw him as.

But as his excitement buzzed through him, a darker thought crept in, shadowing his joy. Bo and Sherry. He had a plan for them, a carefully crafted, calculated scheme he’d been piecing together for weeks. The hurt they’d inflicted on him wasn’t something he could just shrug off. He wanted them to pay for every insult, every time they’d made him feel small and insignificant. Prom had seemed like the perfect time to exact his revenge.

Now, though, things felt tangled. He’d been so certain of his plan, yet tonight, standing in Y/n’s driveway, feeling her warmth and hearing the hope in her voice, he’d hesitated. This was the one night she deserved to be perfect, untouched by his grudges and vendettas. But could he really let go of what he’d spent so long planning?

He sighed, turning on his side and clenching his fists against the sheets. The excitement of being with Y/n battled against the pull of his anger, his need to get even. He wanted this night to be special for her, but a part of him also wanted the satisfaction of finally standing up for himself, of seeing Bo and Sherry squirm.

Laying there, Jonathan wrestled with his emotions, caught between the thrill of going to prom with her and the temptation of revenge.

Jonathan pushed himself up from his bed, unable to quiet the turmoil churning inside him. The thrill of Y/n’s invitation lingered, but his mind wouldn’t let go of the memories of Bo and Sherry’s cruelty. He crossed the room, settling at his desk and resting his arms on its worn surface, eyes drifting to the window. The night was still and quiet, the world outside bathed in pale moonlight.

His gaze landed on the lone scarecrow standing vigil in the middle of the cornfield, its ragged figure barely swaying in the breeze. The old thing had always unsettled him, but tonight, it seemed different, almost…inviting. A twisted reflection of himself, abandoned and forgotten, but strong in its solitude. Just like him, it stood alone, its hollow eyes staring back at him from across the field as if it understood his darkest thoughts.

The scarecrow had weathered countless storms, just as he’d endured years of torment. And now, for the first time, Jonathan could imagine himself with that same relentless resolve, ready to push back against those who’d made his life a living hell. Bo and Sherry had sneered at him, humiliated him, yet here he was, determined, calculating, and now, thanks to Y/n, even hopeful.

He tore his gaze away from the scarecrow, his heart racing as he glanced back around his quiet room. Y/n had pulled him out of the shadows, made him feel seen. But he couldn’t deny the urge bubbling up in him, the need to make Bo and Sherry pay.

-

The days leading up to prom passed in a blur of quiet excitement for Jonathan. Every day after school, he and Y/n would meet up to discuss their plans, Y/n’s voice bubbling over with enthusiasm as she talked about her dress and what the night might be like. For once, Jonathan found himself swept up in the normalcy of it all, like he was just any other teenager getting ready for prom.

Y/n insisted on picking colors that wouldn’t clash as she had already picked out her dress, and though Jonathan didn’t care much about the details, he nodded along, letting her excitement carry him. She’d managed to rope him into a shopping trip to pick out a corsage, which she insisted he give her on prom night, despite his lack of experience in anything remotely romantic. Yet he found himself oddly happy as they picked out flowers, grateful to have even this small experience with her.

Meanwhile, Jonathan had managed to scrape together a plan for his attire. He’d gotten hold of an old, dusty tuxedo from a thrift store, a simple black suit that had seen better days but fit well enough. He’d slipped out of the house to buy it late one evening, clutching the stolen bills he’d swiped from his grandmother’s purse. She’d hardly notice, anyway, with all the sleeping pills he’d been slipping into her nightly tea. She drifted into an oblivious slumber every night, and he doubted she’d even realize the money was gone.

Now, with his suit tucked away in his closet and Y/n’s eager calls buzzing through the phone every evening, Jonathan felt a strange mix of anticipation and unease. He was so close to having a perfect night with her, the kind of night he’d never thought he’d experience. But lurking underneath his excitement was the dark reminder of what he planned to do.

- Jonathan stood nervously on Y/n's front porch, adjusting the slightly too-short sleeves of his tuxedo. The suit wasn’t perfect, but he hoped it would do. His hands were clammy, his heart racing as he glanced at the corsage in his hand, a delicate arrangement of flowers they’d picked out together. He could feel the hidden fabric inside his jacket, waiting for the right moment. He’d run through this moment a hundred times in his mind, but as he waited for her to come to the door, all the scenarios he’d imagined vanished, replaced with a nervous buzz.

Just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open, and there she was, standing in the entryway with a soft smile that lit up her face. She wore a deep red dress, simple yet elegant, and it took his breath away. The dress shimmered under the porch light, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.

“Wow…Y/n, you look…” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, “amazing.”

Her smile widened, and he felt a warmth spread through him as she glanced at him, her eyes flicking over his suit with a small, approving nod. “Thanks, Jonathan. And look at you! You clean up really well,” she said, clearly impressed, her voice carrying an affectionate teasing note. “And I see you got the corsage. Good choice.”

He smiled shyly, relieved. “I had some help with that.” He extended his hand, offering her the corsage. Gently, she slipped her hand into his as he carefully tied it around her wrist. For a moment, everything else faded away, and he could only see her, beaming up at him.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice bright with anticipation.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

-

The ride to the school was filled with soft music from the radio, and Jonathan sat in the backseat beside Y/n, trying to ignore the occasional, watchful glances from her dad in the rearview mirror. Y/n chatted easily with her father, the conversation light and casual, as if it were just another day. But Jonathan’s mind was racing, and he found himself squeezing his hands together to keep his nerves in check.

When they finally pulled up to the school, the building was decked out in strings of fairy lights and a couple of banners to give it that “special occasion” look. It was obvious the school had saved on budget, but somehow, in the glow of the lights and the soft murmur of students gathering at the entrance, it felt almost magical.

Y/n’s dad turned to face them from the driver’s seat, giving Jonathan an almost fatherly look of both caution and approval. “You two have fun,” he said, his tone light but pointed. Then, he winked at Y/n. “I’ll be back at eleven sharp to pick you up.”

Y/n smiled, giving her dad a small wave. “Thanks, Dad. See you later.”

With a final nod, her dad drove off, leaving them standing side by side at the entrance. Jonathan took a deep breath, glancing around at the other students arriving in pairs and groups. Despite the nervous energy, a surge of confidence welled up in him when he felt Y/n’s arm loop around his.

“You ready?” she asked, her eyes shining with excitement as she looked up at him.

Jonathan grinned, the warmth of her presence calming his nerves. “Yeah. Let’s make it a night to remember.”

They stepped into the transformed gym, where colorful streamers hung from the ceiling, and a disco ball cast shimmery patterns across the walls. The music was already blaring, and clusters of students filled the floor, chatting, laughing, and dancing. Despite the somewhat tacky decorations, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Jonathan couldn’t help but feel swept up in it as Y/n led him further inside.

"Can you believe it? Prom," Y/n laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "I never thought I’d actually care about this, but…it feels kind of fun, right?"

Jonathan chuckled, his nerves easing as he saw her joy. "I think it’s safe to say that if you’re here, it’s going to be fun."

She laughed, clearly flattered, and soon they found themselves swaying together as a slower song came on. Jonathan’s heartbeat quickened as he placed his hands carefully on her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with an easy smile. He tried to keep his gaze steady, to keep himself in the moment and not get lost in his thoughts of revenge, but being this close to her made his brain waver.

Y/n’s laughter was infectious, and he found himself joining her in silly, exaggerated dance moves, spinning her dramatically to make her laugh harder. She’d step on his toes or twirl too fast, but they’d laugh it off, sharing smiles and glances that lingered longer than usual. At one point, he mustered enough confidence to try a dip, catching her by surprise and making her laugh as he carefully pulled her back up. 

“Look at you, got the smooth moves!” she teased, her eyes glimmering with delight.

He shrugged, a newfound confidence glinting in his eyes. “Guess I’m just full of surprises.”

For a while, they danced and laughed like nothing else existed. Jonathan even felt his own insecurities fade, replaced by the simple joy of being with her. But as the night went on, an unsettling reminder began to creep back into his mind, tugging at the edges of his thoughts.

As they took a break, stepping off the dance floor to catch their breath, he caught sight of Bo and Sherry laughing together across the room. The sight sent a cold jolt through him, reigniting the bitterness that had simmered beneath the surface all night. He tried to push it away, focusing on Y/n’s smiling face, her flushed cheeks from dancing, but the gnawing need for revenge was persistent.

She noticed his change in expression, tilting her head with a concerned smile. “Hey, you okay?”

Jonathan caught sight of Bo and Sherry across the room, laughing loudly with their friends, their mocking faces a reminder of every miserable moment they’d put him through. His fists clenched almost instinctively, but then he felt the warmth of Y/n’s hand on his arm.

She was smiling at him and any thoughts of revenge seemed to fade into the background. Right now, here with her, he didn’t want to be that person. He just wanted to enjoy the night, to let himself be a different Jonathan, the one who could laugh, dance, and feel like he actually belonged somewhere.

He looked down at her and grinned, the tension slipping away. "Come on," he said, pulling her gently back toward the dance floor. "We’ve still got more terrible dance moves to show off."

She laughed, squeezing his hand. “That’s the spirit.”

Ignoring the ghosts of his past, Jonathan let himself be present with Y/n, immersing himself in the music, the laughter, and the freedom of the night. He knew the weight of his old grudges would return eventually, but for now, he didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment, here with her.

That’s when Jonathan stumbled forward, a sharp pain shot through his knee as he hit the floor hard. Laughter echoed above him, and he didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Oops, didn’t see you there, Scarecrow,” Bo sneered, his voice laced with mockery. He chuckled, reveling in the scene he’d created. 

Before Jonathan could gather himself, he felt Y/n’s hands reach under his arm, helping him back onto his feet. Her expression was fiery as she turned to face Bo.

“What’s your problem?!” she demanded, her voice loud enough to turn heads nearby. Her gaze was unwavering, fierce with protectiveness.

Bo only laughed, clearly amused by her anger. Sherry, standing just behind him, rolled her eyes, tugging on Bo’s arm.

“Oh, leave it,” she said dismissively, shooting Jonathan a disdainful glance. “I want to have fun tonight, not waste time on some loser.”

With that, she pulled Bo away, leaving them snickering as they disappeared into the crowd.

Jonathan’s hands tightened into fists, his heart racing as anger swirled within him. But beside him, Y/n’s hand rested gently on his arm, grounding him. She looked up at him, her expression softening.

“You okay?” she asked quietly, her eyes full of concern and warmth.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah…thanks.”

But as they returned to the dance floor, the desire for revenge simmered beneath his skin. Bo and Sherry weren’t just going to walk away from this. Not tonight. Not after everything. 

As the music shifted to a slow, melodic tune, Y/n took Jonathan’s hand and led him further into the dance floor. The tension lingered in the air, but she tried to shake it off, wanting to focus on the moment with him. As they swayed gently to the rhythm, she couldn’t help but glance up at Jonathan, concern etched across her features.

“Are you really okay?” she asked softly, her brow furrowed. “That looked like it hurt.”

Jonathan forced a smile, though the weight of his earlier encounter hung heavy in his mind. “Honestly, I’m fine. Just a little bump.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry about it.”

Y/n searched his eyes, looking for any hint of the anger that had flared just moments before, but instead, she found a flicker of vulnerability. “You know they’re just trying to get a rise out of you, right? You don’t have to let them win.”

Jonathan hesitated, the familiar urge to retaliate bubbling up again. “I know,” he replied, his voice low. “But it’s hard not to think about it when they just—” He paused, looking away, unable to fully articulate the frustration. “It’s easier to just brush it off and enjoy the night with you.”

She offered him a small, reassuring smile, the warmth of her presence washing over him. “That’s what you should do. Just be here with me. I want this night to be special for both of us.”

As they continued to sway together, the world around them faded, leaving only the soft sound of the music and the gentle thumping of their hearts. Jonathan inhaled deeply, letting Y/n’s words sink in. 

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice steadying. “Let’s make the most of it.” He leaned down slightly, his forehead resting against hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away. All that mattered was Y/n, and the dance they shared under the glittering lights of the gym.

As they continued to dance, the gentle rhythm of the music wrapped around them like a soft blanket. Jonathan felt the weight of the moment, the intimacy of it all stirring something deeper inside him. He looked down at Y/n, noticing the way her cheeks flushed under the soft glow of the lights.

Suddenly, Y/n pulled back slightly, her gaze dropping to the floor, and a shyness washed over her. Jonathan could see her thoughts racing, and his heart quickened in anticipation.

“Jonathan,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I…I need to tell you something.” She hesitated, biting her lip nervously. “When I rejected you before, I meant what I said, I really do like you. It’s just…I wasn’t ready to date anyone at the time. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Jonathan’s breath hitched, his heart pounding at her admission. He searched her eyes, trying to gauge what this meant.

“But now,” she continued, glancing up at him with a mix of hope and uncertainty, “I feel different. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I really want to give it a chance…if you’re still interested.”

His heart soared at her words, a smile breaking across his face. “Y/n, I’ve liked you for so long. I was worried I’d messed everything up after that.”

She shook her head, her own smile growing brighter. “No, you didn’t. I just needed time to figure things out for myself. And now that I’m here with you…it feels right.”

Jonathan’s pulse quickened as he processed her confession. He drew her in closer, savoring the warmth of her body against his. “I want that too.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled, her nervousness fading as a sense of relief washed over her. “So, we’re really doing this?”

Jonathan nodded earnestly, the moment feeling surreal. “Yeah, I want to be with you.”

As they held each other, the music enveloping them, he felt an overwhelming rush of happiness, but in the back of his mind, the shadow of his revenge plan lingered. He pushed it aside for now, focused solely on Y/n, the girl who had somehow become everything to him in such a short time. 

As Y/n leaned in closer, the world around Jonathan seemed to melt away. The way she looked at him, with a mixture of shyness and eagerness, ignited a fire of anticipation within him. His heart raced like crazy, each beat echoing the desire he had held onto for so long. The thought of kissing her, of feeling her warmth against him, sent a thrill coursing through his veins. 

But just as the moment felt perfectly poised, Jonathan caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart sank as he saw Bo and Sherry slipping out of the gym, their laughter echoing behind them like nails on a chalkboard. The realization hit him like a bucket of ice water, this was his chance, and it was slipping away.

He hesitated, torn between the sweet promise of Y/n's lips and the bitterness of revenge that bubbled just beneath the surface. The plan he had formulated, the chance to finally confront Bo and Sherry for everything they had done to him, loomed large in his mind. If he didn’t act now, he might never get the opportunity again.

“Y/n…” Jonathan said suddenly, his voice tinged with urgency. He stepped back slightly, trying to mask his internal conflict. “I’ll be right back. Just…give me a second.” 

Her brow furrowed in confusion, disappointment flickering across her face. “Jonathan? What’s wrong?” 

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” he said, already backing away from her, his heart racing for a different reason now. “Just…stay here, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and pushed through the herd of students, the music and laughter fading behind him as he focused on Bo and Sherry’s retreating figures. He felt a mix of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through him; this was it. The moment he had been waiting for.

As he moved swiftly through the crowd, Jonathan felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him. But with every step, he reminded himself that he needed to take control. The memory of Y/n’s smile and their near-kiss fueled his determination. Turning back to look at her, he could see the disappointment in her eyes and he felt horrible but tonight was about more than just a dance, it was about standing up for himself. He wasn’t going to let Bo and Sherry ruin it for him any longer. 

He spotted them outside, laughing as they walked away, blissfully unaware of his approach. With every ounce of courage he could muster, Jonathan steeled himself for the confrontation he had long envisioned, pushing aside his moment with Y/n for the sake of justice. 

As Jonathan trailed behind Bo and Sherry, a surge of adrenaline propelled him forward. He could see them heading toward Bo’s car, the laughter and carefree banter carrying over the low hum of the night. The familiar knot of anger twisted in his stomach, but he channeled that energy into determination. He wouldn’t let this chance slip away.

The pair drove to a secluded area near the woods, a spot Jonathan recognized as a local hangout where teens often came to escape prying eyes. He crept behind the trees, keeping low as he watched them pull up and park. As they wrapped up in each other and caught in their own little world, Jonathan knew he had to act quickly. 

He spotted a sturdy tree nearby, its branches thick and inviting. Without hesitating, he made his way to it, his heart pounding in his ears. He climbed with urgency, the rough bark scraping against his palms as he pulled himself higher and higher until he found a branch that provided a perfect vantage point above them. 

From his perch, he could see Bo and Sherry in the car, their laughter echoing through the cool night air. They were completely oblivious to his presence, lost in the haze of their own affection. Jonathan took a moment to steady his breathing, the sounds of their kisses floating up to him. It fueled his anger. They thought they could treat him like a joke, but tonight, he would show them just how wrong they were.

As he balanced himself on the branch, he allowed a smirk to spread across his face. This was the moment he had been waiting for, and the anticipation electrified him. He took a deep breath, preparing to make his move, heart racing not just with anger but with the thrill of the unknown. He was no longer the awkward boy they had tormented, he was about to turn the tables.

With one final glance at the couple below, Jonathan focused on the task at hand. He would make sure they remembered this night, and he would reclaim the power they had so carelessly taken from him. As he prepared to jump down, he felt a mixture of excitement and vengeance swirl within him. It was time to confront his past.

With his heart racing in sync with the rush of adrenaline, Jonathan grasped the smoke bomb tightly in his hand. He took a moment to steady himself, watching Bo and Sherry through the branches. The two were blissfully unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

Then, without hesitation, he released the smoke bomb, the device landing directly on the roof of the car. As it detonated, a thick cloud of smoke erupted around the vehicle, enveloping it in an eerie, swirling mist. Jonathan could hear the couple’s laughter turn to confusion and then panic as the inside of the car filled with a choking fog.

He quickly reached into his coat and pulled out the tattered remnants of a scarecrow mask he had fashioned earlier. With a swift motion, he slid it over his face, obscuring his identity and adding a layer of theatricality to the scene. It felt empowering, a transformation from the overlooked boy to something more sinister.

Taking a deep breath, Jonathan leaped off his perch, landing on the hood of the car with a thud. The couple inside screamed in unison, their shock palpable. He pointed the fake gun he had brought along at Bo and Sherry, a grin breaking through the mask. 

Before they could fully process what was happening, Jonathan pulled the trigger on the fake gun. A harmless pop echoed through the night, and a harmless projectile shot out, bouncing harmlessly off the windshield. The couple screamed again, eyes wide with terror, as they scrambled to figure out how to escape this bizarre nightmare.

As Bo fumbled for the gear shift, panic setting in, Jonathan leapt off the hood, adrenaline propelling him backward. He watched as Bo desperately tried to maneuver the car out of the smoke, his face twisted in confusion. The tires squealed against the gravel as Bo hit the gas, but the dense smoke obscured his vision, and the next moment felt like slow motion.

The car lurched forward, and with a sickening crunch, it collided violently with a tree. Jonathan’s heart leaped as he saw Sherry’s body smash against the windshield, her screams muffled by the impact. The sound of shattering glass pierced the air, the scene unfolding like a chaotic tableau.

Jonathan stood in place, his heart pounding with triumph as he watched the scene before him unfold. This was exactly what he had imagined, Bo and Sherry panicking, trapped in the chaos he’d created. As the smoke thinned, revealing the crumpled front of the car and their bewildered, terrified faces, he felt a fierce surge of satisfaction.

For once, he wasn’t the one cowering or enduring their cruel laughter. He was the one standing tall, the one who orchestrated this night. The realization filled him with pride. He had taken back his power, turned the tables, and shown them the fear they’d forced on him for so long. 

A slow grin formed under his mask as he took a step back, savoring the moment. This was his victory, his reckoning. No longer the timid, scrawny target, Jonathan had become something to be feared. With his plan in full effect, he felt a twisted, intoxicating sense of accomplishment. This was his night. Finally, he was the one in control.

As the thrill of his revenge faded, Jonathan’s thoughts snapped back to Y/n. She was waiting for him, likely wondering where he had disappeared to. Panic surged through him as he realized he didn’t want to lose the night they’d shared. Without wasting a second, he turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the school, heart pounding with a new urgency.

He burst back into the dimly lit prom hall, scanning the crowd until he finally spotted her. Y/n was standing with a few friends, casually chatting, her face lighting up when she caught sight of him. Jonathan felt his chest tighten. She looked beautiful, relaxed, like nothing could ruin this night. Determined to keep it that way, he made his way over, his face breaking into a grin as he reached her.

"Hey," he said, slightly out of breath. The music shifted to a slow, familiar song, signaling the final dance of the night.

Y/n’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Where did you run off to?” she asked, her tone light but with a hint of curiosity.

He hesitated, then shrugged, putting on his best nonchalant smile. “Just needed some air,” he replied, smoothly changing the subject as he held out a hand. “Last dance…? Only fair to end the night with you.”

She smiled and placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. As they swayed together, Jonathan’s mind buzzed with the adrenaline still rushing through him. He’d just taken back his dignity from his tormentors, and now he was here, holding the girl he’d admired for so long. This moment felt surreal, as if he were finally reclaiming a piece of his life.

They moved together in silence, the world around them fading into the background. Y/n looked up at him, her gaze soft and open, and he felt a surge of courage unlike anything he’d known. Looking at her, Jonathan did the unthinkable and leaned in, his hand coming up to gently cup her face. She stilled, her eyes widening slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

Then, with a boldness fueled by the night’s adrenaline, he closed the space between them and pressed his lips softly against hers. For a moment, everything else vanished, the smoke, the revenge, the shadows of the past. All that mattered was her, right there with him, returning the kiss with warmth and tenderness.

As they pulled back, Y/n smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed. Jonathan could hardly believe what had just happened, but for once, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Their moment was abruptly shattered by the sound of someone bursting into the gym, their voice frantic. "There’s been an accident outside! It’s Bo and Sherry!"

A ripple of shock ran through the crowd, and without hesitation, students and teachers alike began hurrying out of the gym, voices buzzing with concern and confusion. Jonathan felt a chill run down his spine, but he kept his face carefully neutral, blending in with the crowd as they surged toward the exit. Y/n looked at him, worry evident in her eyes.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand as they joined the others heading outside.

Jonathan let himself be led, though his pulse was thudding with the knowledge of what they’d find. He already knew what waited down the road, but he kept his expression calm, a mask slipping effortlessly into place. They joined the throngs gathering near the entrance, and sure enough, flashing red and blue lights came into view as police cars approached the wreckage down the road.

The crowd murmured in hushed, anxious tones, some of Y/n’s friends pulling her closer, trying to see what was happening. Jonathan stayed at her side, feeling the weight of his actions settling over him like a dark cloak. He squeezed her hand, feeling the mixture of excitement and dread bubbling within him. 

Y/n looked up at him, her face pale with worry. “This is awful…I mean, I know they could be mean, but…shit…”

Jonathan managed a slow, somber nod, his gaze fixed on the flashing lights ahead. "Sometimes…people get what’s coming to them," he murmured, his voice just loud enough for her to hear.

Y/n’s eyes lingered on him, a slight furrow in her brow as she tried to read his expression. But before she could say anything more, the sirens grew louder, and the paramedics arrived, rushing to the scene as the crowd continued to murmur in horrified fascination. 

As he watched, Jonathan’s lips curved ever so slightly, a dark satisfaction flickering within him. His plan had come together perfectly, and no one would ever know. He took a deep breath, wrapping an arm around Y/n, feigning shock along with everyone else. But inside, he felt nothing but triumph.

As the murmurs and gasps around them grew louder, Jonathan leaned close to Y/n, his voice low and calm, almost soothing against the mess. "Let’s go back inside," he whispered. "We should wait for your dad to come pick us up."

Y/n looked at him, her expression still troubled as she cast one last glance at the flashing lights in the distance. She nodded slowly, letting out a shaky breath. "Yeah…yeah, maybe that’s a good idea."

He gently took her hand, leading her away from the gathering crowd, away from the scene he knew all too well. Inside, the music had stopped, and the gym was nearly empty, the remnants of the night scattered in abandoned cups and streamers. Jonathan’s heart still raced, but his demeanor was perfectly steady, keeping Y/n close and calm.

As they found a quiet corner to wait, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Everything’s gonna be alright,” he murmured, his words laced with a dark undertone only he understood.

Jonathan sat with Y/n in the quiet shadows of the empty gym, his heart still thundering with the adrenaline of the night. He couldn’t help but savor the moment, letting it settle over him like the closing notes of a perfect symphony. Tonight had been everything he had dreamed of and more, a night where he was no longer the target, no longer the helpless one. He had reclaimed his power, his control.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at Y/n beside him, her gaze still distant with worry over what had happened to Bo and Sherry. She had no idea. No one did. And that secret was his alone to carry.

This night couldn’t have gone better if he’d scripted it. He had tasted a kind of victory he’d long yearned for, a quiet triumph only he would understand. Revenge had felt sweeter than he imagined, and sharing a night like this with Y/n, knowing he had taken control of his fate in more ways than one, was the final touch he hadn’t even expected.

As they waited for her dad, he let himself linger in this perfect moment, knowing he had finally tipped the scales in his favor. For the first time in his life, Jonathan Crane had not only survived but won. And it was a feeling he intended to savor for a very, very long time.

-

A/N: pretty simple, straightforward fic, but I hope you did enjoy it regardless thank you for reading :) 💚

I have no intentions on writing another part

[creaman]

Restaurant Balthazar || Full Scarecrow Comic

The 11-page Scarecrow comic that I made for @gothamhorrorzine! I never really recovered from the T.S. Eliot module in high school.

This project was a blast, and allowed vis dev for my Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow and comic art style.

Check out the Physical Merch | Full Digital Zine All proceeds go to Bat Conservation International!

Physical Merch | Full Digital Zine Thank you for reading!

[scorpiussage]

Written in the Stars (Jonathan Crane/OC)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/OC

Summary: Despite what many may think, Jonathan Crane does in fact have a soul mark – he’s just not particularly thrilled about it. (Soulmates AU where a persons first words to you are written somewhere on your body) 

Warnings: Awkward shenanigans, smut

Jonathan Crane is seven years old when his soul mark appears. He’s huddled under a pew, locked in the old abandoned church by his grandmother for a sin he doesn’t remember doing. A sharp burning pain erupts on his forearm, different from the bruising lashes that decorate his back. He holds his arm up to the dim moonlight streaming in through the dirty window and tries to make out the words. 

Whatever he thought his soul mark would say, is no where close to what it actually says. 

…

Most people that know Jonathan Crane, also assume that he doesn’t have a soul mark. He’s bitter and mean and not at all what people look for in a soulmate. Despite these perceived flaws, he does have one. 

A soulmate that is. Somewhere out there and he dreads ever having to meet them. 

He’s never been very lucky, though. 

…

Jonathan is exhausted, injured, and coming down off of his own fear toxin. His hideout is on the other side of town, too far away to get there right now, so he seeks the first open establishment he can find. 

“Hi, welcome to Rats-O-Cheese, the pizza-play restaurant for kids. My name is Y/N-Mouse, what can I get for you?” Is the disinterested monologue that greets him when he enters the building. On his forearm the words he’s been steadfastly ignoring all his life burns. 

Fuck. 

Now, Jonathan is not actually sure what one is supposed to do with a soulmate. Probably not kidnap them, but that’s what he’s done. 

He glances over at the tied up, and very irate, waitress and tries to figure out his next steps. He winces when her muffled shrieks interrupt his train of thought. Despite the gag, she’s still hell bent on chewing him out. 

God, he’s exhausted. 

…

Jonathan is in high school when the restaurant chain Rats-O-Cheese opens up, advertising itself as a fantastical arcade restaurant for children. 

He spends the next several weeks trying to erase his soul mark out of embarrassment. 

…

“I’m going to take off the gag. You can scream as loud as you like, no one will hear you,” Jonathan informs his soulmate, and then adds under his breath, “for my ears’ sake, don’t scream.” 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” She snarls at him as soon as her mouth is free. 

He considers that question and notes to himself that he actually has a lot problems. 

Y/N, on the other hand, has a fairly average life. She’s an only child in a two parent, middle class household. She’s not top of her class, not bottom either, in both high school and college. Just average. 

Her near-neurotic obsession with being normal probably has something to do with her soul mark words. 

“If you fight or scream, I’m going to inject you with this drug.” 

Who the fuck says that to someone?

It sort of tracks that she’d end up with a psychopath for a soulmate, and not a very successful one at that if his injured, disheveled state is anything to go by. 

“So, like, what’s your thing?” She ends up asking after watching him putter around his grungy little hideout for a while. 

He pauses and looks over at her with a cocked eyebrow, “My thing?”

She nods, “Yeah, you know, your villain thing. All the weirdos in this city have one. Like that guy with the riddles!” 

Psycho-soulmate actually rolls his eyes at her and snarks, “Please don’t compare me to the likes of Edward Nygma and his ridiculous neurosis.” 

Y/N doesn’t really think this man has any room to be throwing stones, but she keeps that to herself. 

…

Statistics say that a majority of people meet their soulmates during their college years. It’s something the general population is obsessed with – making movies, music, and art about the phenomenon since the dawn of time. Jonathan, in juxtaposition, isn’t interested. In fact, he would prefer to never meet them. 

He’s never needed anyone but himself and he doesn’t see that changing anytime soon. Especially considering the, frankly, ridiculous words that are on his forearm. 

In what universe would he ever step foot into a Rats-O-Cheese?

…

Psycho-soulmate determines after several hours tied up, that she’s no longer a flight risk and unties her. He does give her a stern look though, and tells her, “There’s no where you would run that I couldn’t find you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t run – got it.” 

She uses her newfound freedom to wander about his weird warehouse/hideout. There’s a very disturbing lone medical examination table with metal restraints that she edges around. Apart from the few pieces of actual furniture (a couch and a futon) it looks like a stereotypical horror movie science lab. 

She approaches a mannequin that’s dressed in a frayed suit and that has a burlap sack-mask over its head. Ohhh, so this is his thing, creepy scarecrow. 

She remarks as much out loud and Psycho-soulmate makes a loud clattering noise behind her, dropping whatever he was doing in surprise. 

“It’s for science!” He snarls, his ears turning pink in embarrassment. 

“Yeahhhh, okay.” 

Then she turns back around to look at him, “By the way, what’s your name? I’ve just been calling you ‘Psycho-soulmate’ in my head this whole time.” 

He gives her a dry look for that remark and introduces himself. Man, that name sounds awfully familiar. 

Then it hits her, “Oh! You’re the guy that broke everyone out of Arkham!” 

“Well, yes, but it was a dire set of circumstances.” 

He’s busied himself with his chemistry set again and as Y/N looks more closely at him, she notes that he’s very handsome – the kind of face that would sell well in a boyband line up. He’s also lithe in way that reveals how much time he spends hunched over his experiments. She has to wonder how a guy like that ends up as Gotham’s latest super villain. 

He sighs loudly and sets down the beaker he was currently fussing over, “I can feel you staring at me. Just ask your inane questions.” 

“No questions, just bored is all.” 

Jonathan’s eyes roll heavenward, as if he’s praying for the irritation to end. Well, hey, he’s the one who kidnapped her, he gets to live with those consequences. 

…

Jonathan is, surprisingly, a gentleman and offers her the futon to sleep on while he takes the couch. He only has a few changes of clothes here so she ends up sleeping in one of his button down shirts. She waits until his back is turned before she brings the collar up to her nose and inhales his delicious, masculine scent. 

She has no idea what cologne he uses but goddamn does she love it. 

A sort of pattern settles over them after a few days there. Jonathan will make the trek in the early hours of the morning to get them both breakfast, waking Y/N up with the clanging of the door when he returns. 

Once they’ve eaten, he immediately dives into his experiments and leaving Y/N to her own devices. All he has to do in this place is read his vast array of medical textbooks and journals, so that’s what she does. 

After nearly a week of this, she finally snaps, “When can we fucking leave?”

“Language,” Jonathan remarks, carefully finishing his task of measuring out chemicals before turning his attention to her, “Why would we leave?”

“Uh, because this isn’t an actual livable place and there’s nothing to do?” 

“Of course I have a child for a soulmate,” he grumbles before getting up, “We won’t be leaving. But, I’ll see if I can procure more suitable entertainment for you.” 

Honestly, that’s better than nothing. 

And she does not squeal in delight at the stack of romance novels he returns with the following morning, she’s just excited to be able to read something that isn’t about psychology. 

…

The phenomenon of soulmates is a fascinating one, Jonathan notes. One he’d be more than interested in studying if his research into fear wasn’t so pressing. 

Hell, even Edward Nygma has a soulmate–Julian Day. 

Jonathan’s own soulmate is interesting to say the least. She’s annoying and childish and loud, the opposite of himself in every way possible. 

She might be growing on him. 

He has a bit of an accident while mixing up a new batch of fear toxin. In those moments, he found himself far more concerned for Y/N than himself. Worried that he may have injured her by mistake. 

He hates it. 

He’s never wanted a soulmate and certainly never the feelings that come along with one. 

If anything were to ever happen to her, he would burn the entire world to the ground. He can no longer imagine his life without her in it and it’s driving him insane. 

…

It’s on a particularly quiet night, months into Y/N’s captivity, that Jonathan breaks out his stash of very expensive whiskey. He’s never been one to drink, but he finds that he’s agreeing with Y/N, he’s so bored lately. 

The flush of alcohol looks pretty on her face in the warm, dim light of the warehouse. He can almost pretend that they’re out on a date, enjoying each other’s company like normal people. 

It’s her that kisses him first, though. 

Her lips are soft and she tastes like the whiskey they’re drinking and he can’t seem to get enough. The euphoric feeling that comes over him is even better than his fear toxin, he thinks. He wraps an arm around her waist, tugging her closer and onto his lap where she fits so perfectly that it’s no wonder the universe chose her for him. 

She breaks away from the kiss, peppering his jaw and neck with follow up ones, “God, you’re such a freak, but I really, really like you.” 

The admission makes him more feral, gripping her impossibly closer and yanking at her clothes. He needs her in a way that he’s never needed anyone before. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t get her naked. 

She helps him remove her top, her breasts already bare as she’s forgone wearing a bra. He groans and buries his face between them, licking and kissing up her sternum back to those addicting lips. Her hips are grinding down onto him, lining up her core with his erection with unerring accuracy. Even through the layers of their clothes, he can feel how wet she is, how warm he knows she’ll be. 

He pushes her down onto the cushions of the couch, slotting himself between her legs and yanking at the button of her jeans. Her hips lift helpfully, allowing his hand to slip them down her thighs. 

He was never a very sexual being, always preferring the company of books rather than people, but he can see in this moment what he’s been missing all these years. There’s something so electrifying about touching and being touched by another person, something that sends delightful shivers all up and down his spine. 

He wants to own her entirely, and for her to do the same to him. 

Her deft fingers slip down his torso towards his groin, cupping his cock in her hand sweetly. He groans and the feel and his hips stutter down to grind against her palm. 

“Can I see?” She asks him, and it hits him in that moment that she never does anything without confirming his consent. He’s never had anyone do that for him before, his body always being the subject of either outright abuse or covetous leers. He helps her open his pants, letting those pretty fingers of hers slip past the hem to wrap around him. 

His eyes roll back as she grips him firmly, pumping his cock better than he’s ever done himself. 

Once he gains some coherency back, he makes quick work of removing her pants and underwear entirely. 

She’s bare before him, her most intimate place glistening and beckoning him forward. He’s never once had the desire nor fantasized about going down on a woman before, but he can’t stop himself from getting a taste. He runs his tongue between her lips, gathering the slick from her hole and dragging it up to her clit. 

He groans against her as the flavor registers, he already knows he’s never going to get enough of this, of her. Her essence is all he’s ever going to think about from now to the end of time. 

Her fingers bury themselves into his hair, tugging and grasping as he devours her. His name is being chanted, spurring him on to torture that little bud at the top of her sex. 

He can literally taste her orgasm as it gushes out of her, coating his lips and chin and it about makes him finish himself. 

Sitting up, he fists himself, hurrying to line himself up with her opening. Still coming down from her high, she mewls as he sinks into her, the walls of her cunt sucking him in as if it’s welcoming him home. He doesn’t think he ever wants to part from her, doesn’t ever want to draw his cock away from her. He pushes himself as deep as possible before drawing back and pushing back in. 

Her arms wrap around his shoulders, tugging him down so that their foreheads press. Somehow this is far more intimate that literally being inside of her and it makes him flush with how flustered it makes him. 

He doesn’t last long but he forgets to be embarrassed about it because he’s never felt so good in his life. He never wants this feeling to end.

He settles beside her, keeping himself firmly tucked into her tight heat. 

On her ribs, right beneath her heart, are his words and proof that they were meant for each other. 

[lily-radiance]

Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

[chillian-murphy]

Thinking about how Jonathan Crane is the right age and right temperament to have through a cringey mall goth phase at the peak of Nine Inch Nails' popularity and that's why everyone made fun of him in high school.

[connorntofficial]

i forgot that i can post traditional art on here!!

anyways me and my cousin are still working on our Gotham rewrite and the other day we decided to add Jonathan Crane to our cast of characters! he is entirely different then he is in the show, we dont have everything figured out yet but we decided to make him a doctor at Arkham! he works alongside Hugo Strange and uses the patients at Arkham to develop his fear toxin! theres a lot to figure out with his story still but he is fun to ponder!!

i really like his design! he looks so old for his age, he has so much grey hair that it looks silver, its also thinning at the top both from stress and trichotillomania. He also has very prominent wrinkles, with eyebags and crows feet, and his gaunt appearance doesnt do much to help. Looking at him you would never guess that hes only 36

he also dresses like an old man, wearing sweaters and flannels almost exclusively. In high school people definitely mistook him for a teacher