#jonathan crane fluff

[princessofmarvel]

Nothing to fear

summary | jonathans girlfriend accidentally takes some fear toxin, while finding out that he is the scarecrow (i suck at summaries, lol)

pairing | jonathan crane x innocent!fem!reader!

word count | 1.2k

genre | fluff with some angst!

requested? | yes! thank you so much for this request @kpopgirlbtssvt i had so much fun writing it! 

warnings! | the reader gets drugged, but I think that’s it! Please let me know if there is anything that I am missing! And, this is not really proofread yet, lol

​​author’s note! | my requests are open for these characters! please send in your requests for blurbs, headcanons, or imagines! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Jonathan has been at work the entire day, irritated and stressed beyond belief. The only thing getting him through it? Knowing that his beautiful girl was home waiting for him. She called him earlier to let him know that she was going to his place after her last class, he insisted that she just rest after, but she kept saying something about a surprise she had planned. He knew there was no talking her out of it, so he decided that it would be better to just look forward to anything she had planned. 

When he met her, he could have sworn she wasn’t real. She had accidentally bumped into him while she was getting her coffee one day, and knocked his coffee to the ground. She immediately started apologizing, and asking what his order was so she could get him a new one. And, no matter how many times he told her it was fine, and to not worry about it (mostly so he could just hurry on to work) she wouldn’t stop. He finally caved and gave her his order, and she immediately ran and ordered him a new one. She gave it to him with an intoxicating smile on her face while still apologizing. After the encounter Jonathan had to dig deep into his mind and make sure he hadn’t just imagined it. Just to make sure, he went back to the same coffee shop the next morning, and saw her sitting there at a table, her pale pink nails tapping away at her computer, while sipping her drink.  As he was about to leave, she looked up at him, and invited him to sit with her. They sat and talked until the coffee shop was closing up. 

Jonathan unlocked his door and walked into his home, while the smell of a freshly cooked meal immediately hit him in the face. He realized what the surprise must have been. She had mentioned last week how she wished they had enough time to spend a proper meal with each other. He had something planned for the weekend, but she must have beat him to it.  As he walked into the kitchen he saw the lights dimmed, candles lit, and the amazing meal set out on the table. The only thing missing? His angel was nowhere to be seen. He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings as he heard small whimpers coming from the bathroom beyond the shut door. 

“Sweetheart?” He called out, as he knocked on the door. When all he got back was a scared whimper he decided that he couldn’t wait for a response, and walked into the bathroom only to be met with a sight that broke his heart. 

His girlfriend trembling in the corner with tears streaming down her face, the nice dress she had on now all wrinkled up. Her once done up hair had now been messed up from what he imagined would have been her fingers pulling at it. She had her head down on her knees while mumbling something to herself that he couldn’t make out. He didn’t understand what was going on until he noticed the now knocked over, and empty bottle of his fear toxin on the sink. 

“Angel?” He said calmly as he bent to her level, slowly taking her face in his hands as he tried to make eye contact with her eyes darting everywhere but at him. 

“J-Johnny? There was a-” She stopped as she started to sob again. He pulled her into his chest and held her until she started to calm down. 

Once she calmed down enough, he helped her into the shower to calm her, and make sure she knew that whatever it was she saw was fake, but what she was feeling was real. After he helped her get dried off, dressed, and wrapped in a blanket on the couch, he brought her a warm cup of tea, and sat opposite of her, waiting for her to talk first. 

“What was that?” She quietly mumbled out, while taking a sip of her tea, staring straight ahead. 

“It was a fear toxin, something I use on patients.” He tells her slowly in fear of her freaking out, but she stays surprisingly calm, while just staring straight ahead, so he continued. “I give it to them so they can face their fears, and see that it is all just in their heads”

“And the mask?” She asked, finally looking at him, her eyes puffy, and red from all the crying she had done. “I saw it in the case, I went to put it away, but when I picked it up, it was unlocked and everything fell out. It’s the mask of that man they show on the news, is that you Jonathan?” 

He stared at her for a minute, trying to figure out how to answer this without her freaking out. “Yes, it’s me, and I completely understand if that makes you want to end this.” 

Saying that to her broke his heart, he wanted her to stay, but he knew that if this was too much for her, he needed to let her leave. She was the only person in this world that he could never even dream of hurting, no matter how much it would hurt him. 

“Jonathan, I’m not completely sure what it is that you do, but I do know that you make me feel safer, and happier than any other man in this city could. I’m not sure that I'm ready to know exactly what it is you do, but I’m not ready for this to end.” She has to him in almost a whisper. 

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’ll explain everything when you’re ready.” He says while pulling her down to lay on his chest, while wrapping the blanket around them both. As he kisses her head he notices that she has already fallen asleep, probably worn out from the fear toxin. Jonathan eventually falls asleep with her on the couch, with her all wrapped up in his arms. 

The next morning, Jonthan woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes, and his girlfriend was no longer on his chest. He walks into the kitchen to see her, dancing around the kitchen while fixing breakfast. She jumped a little as he walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. 

  “Shhhh Sweetheart, it’s just me.” He mumbles into her neck, while leaving small kisses. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I was hungry.” She said to him with a smile, while making them both a plate. 

“Hey Jonathan?” She says while sitting across from him as they ate. “Am I going to get hurt?” she asked him somewhat quietly.

Jonathan made his way to kneel down next to her chair. “Never, that is the last thing that would happen, angel. You have nothing to fear.” He said, looking at her with complete genuineness.  

“Okay” She said to him with a nod, and a smile. Jonathan stood up, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. As they pulled away smiling, Jonathan picked her up while she gave a small squeal. He smiled down at her only to see that she was smiling back at him as he carried her to his bedroom. While they were smiling at each other, Jonathan knew that this would all end up all right.

[paradiseprincesss]

dangerous woman | jonathan crane

i'm sure everyone is familiar with the album cover of "dangerous woman" and what she's wearing on it. if you don't, then i feel like the outfit and nickname won't make sense in this fic !!!

summary: you've been stealing the scarecrow's fear toxin for months, and finally, he catches you red handed.

warnings: smut, p in v, bondage, rough sex, general adult content lol, MDNI 18+ only

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

you’d been stealing the scarecrow’s fear toxin for months now — and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. 

it was profitable, okay? you would steal his supply, leaving him empty handed, and selling it at a much higher price to the criminals of gotham city. easy money, light work. simply put, you were running him out of his own business. 

jonathan was growing increasingly more frustrated with this mysterious thief that was stealing his supply — it’d been months and yet he couldn’t catch the guy. “the guy” — yes, he thought perhaps this was the work of one of the many dangerous men in gotham. 

this type of organized, deliberate crime couldn’t possibly be done by a woman working all alone — wrong. he was so wrong. this was exactly the type of crime that would be committed by a woman such as yourself. he was a psychiatrist for crying out loud, shouldn’t it be in his job description to know personality types? 

jonathan had his goons working overtime, keeping a keen eye on the drug shipments, but it was no use — you were one step ahead of jonathan every time. jonathan was ready to snap his glasses in two at this point. for someone who was trained in human behavior and complex criminal psychology, you would think he would be able to detect a pattern by now. 

tonight, you had big plans — you were going to steal his toxin from his warehouse directly.

forget shipments and hideouts, this time you were going big or going home. it was all or nothing — and right now, you wanted it all. 

your fitted, latex, corset-esque bodysuit clung to your figure as did your matching, latex thigh-high pleasers. the cherry on the top was the black bunny ears you accessorized with.

sure, it was a little risque, even bordering on kinky, but hey — it screamed dangerous woman. it was like wearing a caution sign but in the best way.

something that said: “i bite.”

dressed in your usual attire, you head to his warehouse in the dead of night. you sacrificed a prolific amount of late nights to figure out the location of this warehouse, but it would all be worth it once you were drowning in piles of cash after profiting off of his toxin. 

you’d been watching him for months — you even knew where he lived. you knew his profession, his full legal name, where he grew up, what type of food he ordered the most when he got takeout…

but what can i say? you were dedicated to your job — your morally dubious and ethically questionable job, but still a job nonetheless!

you strategically checked every entrance point of his warehouse (which, by the way, took a total of two hours of driving and twenty minutes of walking in high heels to get to!), making sure that there were no cameras or potential threats waiting outside. once you decided it was safe, you went through the back door. 

how, you ask? well, it was simple — you had a key replicated ages ago when you’d first broken into his office back at arkham asylum. in fact, you had all of his keys replicated. you know, just in case. 

stop asking why — it was for personal reasons!

after sneaking into the warehouse, you flicked on the lights and started to rummage around immediately. you came here for one thing and one thing only; fear toxin — and lots of it. you looked up at the ceiling as if some higher power up above would answer your calls. please, you thought, show me what i'm looking for.

god was your witness that night — and your prayers were answered. 

…just not in the way you thought they’d be.

as you were bent over, half hidden behind a bunch of empty crates, you were digging through piles of miscellaneous items. you were locked and loaded, so very focused on the task at hand, that you didn’t hear the front door creaking open quietly. 

jonathan heard shuffling once he entered his warehouse, the lights being turned on clearly indicated someone was here. jonathan did not panic, however — he believed that the feeling of panic and anxiety was useless to the human body. how could he make rational decisions when his mind was filled with the what if’s?

he was certain that this time, he’d caught the thief that had been stealing his toxin red handed — finally. however, as he got closer to you, he realized that you were not at all what he was imagining you to be. as he inched closer and closer, he saw two little bunny ears peeking above some empty crates.

he silently made his way around the crates, only to be met with a sight that caused his jaw to drop slightly and his cheeks to turn pink. 

you were bent over in your latex bodysuit, on your knees, rummaging through a pile of random things and the best part? you were completely oblivious to the scarecrow standing directly behind you, watching you poke your ass out as the bunny ears on your head moved every time your head did.

jonathan cleared his throat, causing you to startle. you turned around as a small gasp left your lips. once you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes — they were so blue. he seemed to have noticed you staring though, as he raised a brow and gave you an opportunity to explain yourself silently.

“um,” you started a little nervously, “hey?”

you mentally face palmed yourself — all you could come up with was an “um, hey?” so much for being one step ahead all the time.

“that’s quite the costume you have on," jonathan said smoothly, looking at you through the frames of his glasses. “i assume you’re the one who’s been stealing my supply?” 

you stayed silent as he loomed over you — he was tall. very tall. he was still standing above you as you sat almost obediently on the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse. empty handed at that. 

“listen, bunny,” he continued, “do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?” 

finally, you found your voice. “i do — that’s why i did it.” 

“is that right?” jonathan said, crouching down so that he was now at your level. you felt awfully immature; but it was kind of…exhilarating. to be in the presence of someone so dangerous, just like you. “you’re not what i was expecting.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head to emphasize your question. his eyes darted to your black bunny ears, then back to your face. he didn't answer your question, but instead, he reached his hand out towards you. 

hesitantly, you took a hold of it as he helped you up. “do you always go around stealing what doesn’t belong to you in outfits so…promiscuous?” he asked, eyeing your body up and down shamelessly. 

“...i’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted shyly, watching his eyes trail along every part of you. “i get off on the thrill, mostly.” 

jonathan almost choked when he heard your response — if he wasn’t so attracted to you, he would’ve sprayed an extra concentrated dose of fear toxin in your face. he was standing so close to you now that you could smell his cologne — montblanc, if you remembered correctly. 

“maybe we could work out a deal,” he suggested, his voice low and almost…sultry. “i won’t kill you or turn you into the feds — if you give me what’s mine.” 

a feeling of sheer panic surged through your veins; you’d already sold all the drugs you seized from him. it’s not like you just could get any of it back, and now your life was on the line.

“i-i already sold the drugs—”

“not that,” he reprimanded, eyeing you down hungrily, “i think you know where i'm going with this.”

you stared at him blankly for a moment before you felt your cheeks heat up at his insinuation. he didn’t want the drugs, no — he wanted you. according to jonathan, you were his now. 

i mean, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? 

jonathan was not one to fall so easily, but once he laid his eyes on you, his heart stopped. a beautiful, young, witty woman who was also a thrill seeking, danger loving felon? you were just asking to be his. it didn’t help that you came dressed like you were a triple-x star, either.

“well, what’s it going to be, bunny?” he asked softly, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“what tough choices,” you pouted, looking up at him as you feigned distress, “i don't know what i'm going to do, jonathan.” 

he paused, his hand coming to grab your face gently. “how do you know my name?” he asked, his tone sharp. 

“i know everything about you — i've been watching you for months.” 

he was silent as his jaw clenched slightly. a tell that his calm, collected persona was about to crumble at any given moment — you had him where you wanted him. “i see,” he replied calmly, “i should have you admitted to arkham, really. something is very wrong inside of that pretty little head of yours.” 

you didn’t say anything back, but you bit your lip softly whilst looking into his impossibly blue eyes.

that, however, seemed to be the trigger that pushed jonathan over the edge, because suddenly, he had you pressed up against the cold cement walls of his warehouse. your ass was pressed up against the obvious tent in his pants as your face was met with the rough texture of the cement. 

“i’m going to test your limits,” he breathed, “a little experiment between you and i.” 

“i live for danger,” you mumbled against the wall, not letting up as he continued to threaten you. his threats were fuelling you, if anything — didn’t he hear you when you said that you got off on the thrill of things? 

“prove it, bunny,” he challenged, and you pushed away from the wall, grabbing him by the tie that hung loosely around his neck. 

holding onto it with an iron grip, you brought your lips awfully close to his as you whispered out to him. “take this off,” you instructed, “and tie me up.”

“rope bunny — i should have known.” he teased back, undoing his tie. 

roughly, he pulled your body back against his. your ass was flush against his bulge, and he bound your wrists up with his silky, red tie. “walk,” he commanded softly, guiding you into a whole separate room — a room with an old bed. 

he helped you sit on the edge of the bed before shutting the door completely, making his way back over to you. with your hands tied, you were limited in terms of mobility, but jonathan's hands were free — and he intended to make very good use of them. 

“latex,” he pointed out, reaching over to your bodysuit, “bold choice...but it looks good on you.” 

his comment caught you off guard — his tone was far too sweet for what was about to go down. his voice had you in a trance for a moment, but the feeling of him trying to maneuver your garment off of your body brought you back to reality. after a few moments of fumbling with the tight suit, he finally got you out of it. 

his lips were on yours in mere seconds, kissing you roughly as he squeezed the sides of your neck gently. he continued to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you both moaned into the steamy kiss. however, after a few minutes, he breathlessly pulled away and took a good look at the sight that was in front of him.

you were suddenly very aware of how exposed you were — it’s not like you wore a bra or any panties underneath your latex bodysuit. there’s nothing quite like the thrill of wearing nothing underneath to get your blood flowing…

he let out a heavy breath, looking slightly disheveled as he took in every inch of your perfect body. the way your tits sat up, the way your skin was slightly flushed, the way you were on display like an art piece at some french museum — you were a divinity.

not to mention those latex thigh-highs that you still had on — and the bunny ears, too. fuck, maybe he’d keep you like this. take a picture and frame it to really make a point of you being an art piece for his eyes only. 

suddenly, he harshly pushed you down and flipped you around on the bed so that your stomach was against the mattress.

he hoisted your hips upwards, putting you in a face down ass up position. the way he positioned you made how wet you were all the more obvious, your glistening cunt on display for him as he choked back a moan at just the sight of you this powerless.

you heard his pants being unzipped, along with the sound of his belt being undone, and his hard, thick cockhead was brushing up against your sticky folds. he pushed into your tight hole, making the both of you moan. his hands were suddenly reaching for your bound ones, gripping onto the tie as he started to fuck you mercilessly. 

“j-jon!” you squeaked out against the sheets as you felt his cock drilling into you at a brutal pace, sure to leave you sore for days to come. “s-slow down, f–uck!”

“you can take it, bunny,” he assured you lowly, continuing to ram into your tight little hole. “you’re going to fucking. take. it.”

you let out a strangled moan, feeling his cock brush up against that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. it was only a matter of time before you were creaming his cock, the angle giving him access to the deepest parts of you. you were certain that at one point, you swore you’d felt him inside of your stomach with how deep and how forcibly he was fucking your cunt. 

“is this what you — fuck —  wanted, bunny?” he groaned, giving your ass a harsh smack with one hand as the other was still gripping the tie around your wrists. “you just needed to have your tight little pussy stretched by my thick fucking cock?” 

“y-yes, fuck yes!” you whined, “i need to be filled, j-jonathan please—”

“i know,” he cooed with faux sympathy, “you’re such a needy little bunny. you get a cock in your tight fucking cunt and suddenly you’re not so tough anymore, are you?” 

his words went straight to your core, rather than your head, soaking you even further and making his cock slip in and out of you with pure ease. he was slamming himself into your dripping cunt, fucking you raw as you took him so deep that you were full on screaming his name over and over again.

“j-jonathan, fuuuck!” you wailed, letting him ruin you entirely.

this wasn’t exactly how you planned the night to go, but it was better than you’d imagined. better than you’d hoped. you couldn’t dwell on the thought for very long though, because suddenly he was pulling out of you right before you were about to come, much to your displeasure.

you whined, causing him to scoff a laugh. he flipped you over to that you were looking at him now, in missionary, before he sunk back into you. you let out a bratty whine along with a pout. your hands were still tied so you couldn’t touch him — and you were getting desperate. 

“please!” you exasperated as he fucked you stupid, “let me t-touch you, oh my god—”

jonathan watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and finally, he decided you’d been good enough for a reward. he reached behind your back, still balls deep inside of your warm, wet hole, and quickly undid the knot around your wrists.

and as soon as your wrists were free — you were clawing at his back. 

“fuck,” jonathan groaned, feeling your hands pawing at him.

his hand suddenly reached down, playing with your clit as you mewled out incoherent babbles and pleas. he continued to press his fingers against your bundle of nerves, bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more as he plowed you. 

your cunt was dripping with your arousal, you’d never been so wet in your life. you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you were close to coming, and jonathan moaned as he felt your cunt flutter around his thick cock. “close?” he asked breathlessly, and you just nodded — unable to speak as your orgasm washed over you in a blur.

“thaaaat’s it,” he growled, “pretty baby.” 

you whined, looking to the side as you came down from your high, but he continued to ram himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. you reached for his biceps, clinging onto them for dear life as his cock stretched your walls right open. 

“i’m about to come, fuck!” he groaned. “should i come inside? i think i will — you like the thrill, right bunny?” 

before you could protest, he was spilling his warm, thick cum into your abused little cunt. you were on birth control but you hadn’t taken your pills in days — so you were going to have to figure this out later, after the reality of what could happen would set in. he was right though; you did love a good thrill. something to get your adrenaline pumping and your blood rushing. 

you were a fear addict, and he was the supplier of fear — you were freakishly perfect for each other in all the worst ways. 

after both his and your endorphin levels gradually calmed down, he pulled out and watched the mixture of his sticky, white cum and your arousal drip out of you.

“you know, i could use someone like you to help me distribute my toxin — i'd pay you more than whatever you're making now.” he said after a minute, and your head shot up.

of course — his version of pillowtalk was bringing up business. he seemed to read your thoughts unnervingly well though, because before you could say anything, he was talking once more.

“we’d make a good team, don’t you think? since you’re my girl now and all.” he teased.

“am i?” you teased back, placing a kiss on his plush lips. “hm, i don’t see the harm — i'm game if you are.”

“that’s my girl.” he said softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “i’m curious though, out of all the people in gotham — what made you want to steal from me?”

“what can i say?” you whispered, “somethin’ bout you makes me wanna do things that i shouldn’t.” 

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

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

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

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

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura

[haveyouanytime]

jonathan crane taking care of you when you're sick

completely self-indulgent and probably not my best lol!! wrote this in an hour bc i'm sick as a dog

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

One night, your throat began to feel sore. It should’ve been a sign, but you simply thought it was your allergies and the cold weather coming together to kick your butt for one night. 

But as the night grew into early morning, you couldn’t sleep as the sore throat added on a headache, aching muscles, chills, and sweats. After having the worst chills, making your entire body even more sore-- you were now flushed, warm to the touch, and beginning to sweat. 

Luckily for you, your boyfriend was a walking freezer. 

You lay beside Jonathan on your shared bed, tucked into his bare chest in just your tank top and underwear, after you had stripped off your clothes following your sudden sweats. Jonathan had done the same, lying beside you in just his pajama bottoms. It was a complete 180 to just moments before, with you layered up and wrapped in two or three blankets to fight off your trembling chills. 

All those winter nights you spent pawing at his chest, trying to put as much space between you and his icy hands as possible were far gone; instead, you grabbed his hand and placed it atop your head as a makeshift cold compress. 

He chuckled, holding his hand to your forehead as he sat up on one elbow beside you. “Remember not even an hour ago when you told me to not touch you?” 

“That was before I felt like I was put in an oven.” You responded, your voice weak with your fatigue and discomfort. Your brows were furrowed, and he wiped away the forming sweat forming at your hairline. 

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had a secret side-- he secretly liked seeing you writhe and in some state of pain. He looked down at you, watching as you showed visible discomfort while curling into him, caught in his imagination of what it would be like with you under his fear toxin. 

That was, until, your soft mewl of discomfort pulled him from his thoughts. He gave you quiet, comforting shushes, running his cold hand through your hair. He readjusted himself so he laid down, resting your head on his bare chest. His skin was cold to the touch, consoling your body as your body fought against your flu. 

“I’m sorry.” You broke the silence, your voice weak and scratchy as your eyes stayed shut due to your relentless headache. 

His brows scrunch together, his crystal blue eyes flickering down to look at you lying atop his chest. “Sorry for what?” 

“For getting sick, and keeping you up.” You weakly answered, placing your hand atop his chest. “I know you’re tired from work, and you’ll be tired-”

“Shush. I’ll always take care of you.” He answered, wrapping his hand around your wrist. “You’re mine.” 

You let a small smile grow on your lips despite your discomfort, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll take the day off, don’t worry. I’ll stay home and take care of you. Just try and sleep, darling.” He whispers, letting go of your wrist to hold the back of your head. He watches as you slowly slip into sleep, pushing the wispy hairs back from your hairline and placing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

[prettypeppermint]

jonathan.

for dr. j. crane.

You looked like a fairy cuddled up in a perfectly curved, perfectly velvety petal as your naked peaks and valleys cradled into his strong figure. You felt safe in his firmness. He felt like home.

His hand tapped at your thigh, matching the rhythm of his heart, as his other hand gripped an open book by the spine. Your knees were tucked; cheek and palm on the ebb and flow of his lungs; breaths steady and deep. You could lay here for hours: naked and languid and melting into his stalwart huskiness.

You looked up at him--at the slight crescents between his brows and the piercing focus of his irises as they glided across the page. Something in his jaw would twitch every now and then, and his Adam's apple would bob as he swallowed a stoic thought. He felt your head move and peered down, and all he saw were your eyes--that ravishingly, undeniably feminine gaze.

Your love would've been a dangerous game with anyone else. But with him, you felt like nothing could ever hurt you. You felt invincible. Because he was the one who held you at night--who you would cry on and nestle up to when you had a nightmare.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl? Hm?" He brought his arm up to your small head and petted your hair, his long eyelashes dampening his gaze as it melted into yours.

The way he looked at you; it was as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Oh, and his voice--rugged with fatigue and slick from hours of silence. You loved hearing your name slip from his throat and jump off his tongue as if it belonged somewhere deep in his core.

You felt your eyelids grow heavy as his palm continually smoothed your hair down in gentle herculean motions. Protection and safeness radiated from his every fiber. You never felt so treasured.

"Nothing," you sighed, breaking eye contact as you rested your cheek on his chest once more. His lips made their way to the top of your head as he gave you a soft peck before continuing to glide his palm down your shiny hair. After a moment of silence which swelled with the intermingling of your peaceful breaths, you added, "I want to stay like this forever. With you." It came out groggy as you drifted off in his arms.

A quiet smile tugged at his lip. "I'll make sure of it. Just for you."

It was the last thing you heard before waking up to cold sheets and an empty bed. You knew he had to flee in the middle of the night. You knew it was to keep you safe. You sat on your knees with your calves splayed out, your wispy locks of hair tickling your bare shoulders. On the pink, satin pillow next to you was a note:

My girl,

I'm sorry for yet another late-night disappearance. Trouble in paradise, it seems.

I've left you a gift underneath your pillow. Use it when you need me and I'm not there.

I love you always, Jonathan.

Your fingers slipped under the mound of satin and prodded at something cold and metal, but not foreign in your grasp. Pulling it out from underneath the pillow, your slender fingers wrapped around the barrel of a Weble-Fosbery automatic revolver.

A single pink ribbon had been neatly wrapped around the grip, adorning it with a small, powder pink bow. As you brought the firearm closer to your face, you noticed your initials carved into the frame in pretty, cursive letters.

Just for you.

x.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Blanket” Jonathan Crane x Fem! Reader

(A/N: Another older insert reader from about two years ago that I finally got around to finishing. Here’s one where Jonathan and Reader were both celebrating that neither of them had crossed paths with Batman for a whole week. Then things kind of heat up from there. Jonathan still needs the reassurance that Reader is being true in their relationship because he’s not used to that. This is kinda related to my previous Jonathan Crane fanfics discussing Batman’s opinion on their relationship. Minors Do Not Interact with this. Warnings: Minor angst, romance, first time together, lovemaking, hand job (both), unprotected sex, and mentions of Jonathan having past heartbreak. Word Count: 2,124 words)

~~~

A celebration was in order. A disguised excuse to be together and leaving adult responsibilities for another day.

Neither you nor Jonathan had crossed paths with the Batman for over a full work week. No captured Crane and you weren’t wrangled into another lecture about being too close to Scarecrow.

Honestly, it was a relief.

Over at your apartment, Jonathan had prepared dinner. A little something warm, hot, and homey. You had insisted cooking was his secret skill. The meal and time together was lovely. Something you cherished.

Cleaning the dishes could had been worse, but at least the plate didn’t break when it slipped from your grasp.

You were lucky. Yet it was a firm reminder to Jonathan and yourself that you were capable of being distracted.

Drying your hands, you could see Jonathan pushing his sleeves just that much further up to expose his forearms.

Could it be the glimpse of skin when he was otherwise all covered up?

Was it the lean muscle that lead to Jonathan’s dexterous hands?

Maybe you simply missed holding his hand after a long week?

Probably all of the above. And then some. You did adore the man for all that he was and would be.

The towel stilled in your hands as Jonathan’s arms encircled your waist.

“Do you have any after-dinner plans?” Asked Jonathan, his breath tickling your ear.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie,” you said and hung the kitchen towel up to dry. “Maybe share that really soft blanket I got a few weeks ago.”

“Sounds very domestic.”

“And I’m hoping to keep it that way. You know.” You gestured towards the windows on the other side of the living room. Ones that had been covered with curtains all evening.

“He couldn’t be that irritating.” Jonathan tightened his hold around you.

“It’s been a week…”

The two of you grew silent. Lost in thoughts of the Batman dropping by to lure you away from Doctor Crane. Again.

So much for getting handsy in the kitchen.

Sighing, your shoulders lowered. “I just wanted a little celebration with a sprinkle of romance. No fear of nocturnal creatures.”

Jonathan’s lips met your ear. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”

You tilted your head. “More annoyed, I think.”

Humming, he pressed a firm kiss to your exposed neck.

“More annoying still that we’re talking about him when I finally have you all to myself. A great feat these days.” You smiled contently as Jonathan continued giving slow, strategically placed kisses. “And…we could just shut off all the lights,” you suggested.

“Skip the movie.”

“Get under the blanket.”

“Share body heat.”

“And a few other things?” You folded your arms over Jonathan’s, hopeful.

His lips curved upward against your skin. Lean hips pressed closer to you from behind.

“I’ll get the lights,” he whispered.

“Meet you on the couch.”

You turned your head and gave Jonathan a long, generous kiss. One you two would surely continue.

Jonathan slipped out of your grasp and gave you a head start. Stilling his hand by the light-switch, he was patient.

You were quick to cross the floor. Unfolding the new blanket in a rush, you laid it across the couch cushions.

In the second it took you to glance over to your partner, the apartment went dark. Save for the candles on the dining table that flickered, forgotten as you sat on the couch.

“Hmm, this blanket is really soft,” you murmured.

“Debatable.”

His foot bumped yours on the floor.

“With what?” You reached up and gently tugged him on the couch beside you.

In turn, he grabbed ahold of your thighs and pulled you fully on the couch, legs draped over his lap.

“With what’s underneath,” he said and gave your thighs a squeeze.

“Sweet and suggestive words.”

“You suggested we share other things.” He inched his fingers further up your thigh.

Humming quietly, you took your time as you unbuttoned his dress shirt. Working your way up, you listened to the sound of his breathing subtly changing. Fingers skimming over his heartbeat. Strong and more noticeable in the position you two were in. Then, having found his neck in the dark, you leaned in to kiss his throat.

Jonathan sucked in a breath.

Sliding your fingers along his skin, you pushed his shirt passed his shoulders, soon discarding it over the back of the couch. You took your time caressing his shoulders and arms. Kissing your way down his slender neck.

His fingers dug into your nice clothes. A soft moan left him as your hands explored his chest.

“I’ve missed you.” You murmured. “All of you. Your mind, your eyes, your voice, your touch…” You kissed his lips slowly and whispered, “Undress me.”

Jonathan pulled at fabric feebly, too busy kissing you again.

Finding his hands, you guided Jonathan as he removed your clothes piece by piece. Slender fingers glided over your skin and eliciting small gasps from yourself as he touched with cold fingertips. Chills ran across your skin.

“Is this alright?” Jonathan asked softly and a little hesitant, hands stilled at your waist.

“I’m with you. Of course this is all right.”

Chuckling, he gave you a quick kiss. Then one more as you took his hands in yours once again.

The pair of you removed the rest of your undergarments before you straddled his lap. Jonathan’s hands rested along your upper back as he gazed upon you in the candlelight.

“Your body is as lovely as your mind.”

Pulling yourself in closer, you thanked your partner with a deep kiss. You felt his exhale as he held you to him. Chests warming between two quick heartbeats.

“I finally get you all to myself,” you whispered against his lips, running your fingers through his hair. “Just us.” You kissed a path down his skin.

“Yes,” he breathed out, “If anyone ruins this, I’ll give them three doses of fe—.”

His words were cut off as your teeth grazed his neck.

You pressed a kiss to his skin; likely reddening. “Good, but I think we’ll be,” you pulled down the zipper of his trousers, “just fine.”

“Agreed.” He swallowed.

Lifting up his hips and fussing around with more articles of clothes, soon Jonathan was as bare as you. Vulnerable and flustered with how close you two had become.

“You okay?” You asked, palm against his burning cheek.

“Sitting with anticipation.”

“You and me both.”

Jonathan placed a hand over yours on his cheek and smiled.

Held together by languid kisses and roaming hands, the pair of you took your time. No rush to get anywhere later nor hide. Lovers memorizing the slight curves of the other. Discovering beautiful imperfections and how it felt to give passionate affections.

You knew Jonathan had held so many doubts before either of you had seen the other’s apartment. To be wrapped around the other, bare and on your couch, was an enormous step towards ensuring each other’s deep adoration.

“Let me take care of you a bit, yeah?” You delicately pushed up his glasses before slowly dragging that hand down his body.

Jonathan shivered under your touch. Yet not as much as when your hand grasped around his member.

You smirked, moving your hand up and down repetitively. Gently, of course, for your dear Jonathan.

He relaxed onto the couch. Soft moans leaving his lips every so often.

There was no need to hurry. Everyday came and went with many tasks. The time alone together in your apartment did not require any of that.

“You look so gorgeous like this,” you confessed, feeling quite content with yourself.

To see your Jonathan comfortable and sighing in pleasure may have also given you a confidence boost. You were doing this with him. He deserved some time to unwind. To have his mind on something he never had before, not without lies at least.

You would never dare to consider the thought of hurting him. Seeing him burdened with his past was enough to claw at your own heart. You never wished to be the cause of it. Jonathan held a special place in your heart and always would.

Leaving the hold he had on your hips, one of Jonathan’s hands started exploring the wetness between your legs.

“Oh.” He breathed out.

You closed your eyes. Loosing yourself in his touch.

Jonathan Crane was indeed an intelligent man. Inventive as he was caring, in your experience with him.

So why did it surprise you that he was giving as much as you were?

Perhaps subconsciously you imagined leading him by the hand with encouraging words as you shared body heat in the most unrestrained form of connection. Perhaps you thought he’d be too nervous. Perhaps, in your anticipation, you forgot how Jonathan had grown to initiate affection with you, his partner.

Could you be that silly or were you in love?

What was the difference?

Kissing his chin, you removed your hands from Jonathan.

“Lay with me?” Reclining onto the cushions, the blanket was soft along your bare skin.

He nodded. Following after you and your body heat. Jonathan pressed multitudes of kisses across your shoulders and neck. All of them soft and barely hiding his rapid breathing. He kept himself propped up on his arms. Ones you gladly held onto.

A light gasp escaped him as you made room for him between your legs. In response, Jonathan laid an openmouthed kiss just below your ear. Delicately, he adjusted his hips to align with yours.

It was a wonder how close you could be and yet still not be close enough.

Rocking your hips, you aided his member to run along your folds. You closed your eyes at the pleasurable sensations that zipped through you. Between his kisses and his movements, it was beginning to consume your mind.

“I need you.”

Your whisper caused Jonathan to stop moving.

“Are you sure?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you properly.

“Very sure, Jonathan. And… Oh, please know I want this. You. Truly.” You cradled his face between your hands. “I want to be with you.”

Behind eyeglasses, emotions swirled in Jonathan’s eyes.

“Just us.”

Leaning down, Jonathan kissed you fervently. All lips and panting hot breaths. He released his emotions full heartedly.

You felt as he guided his tip to your entrance.

Your sudden moan startled him, if only for a second. He managed to see your smile. Amongst the semidarkness, he found one of your hands to hold.

“Easy,” you used your free hand to hold his hip as he eased himself into your warmth. A moan left you, mixing into a giddy laugh and back to a moan. “Good.”

“Good?” Jonathan asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Very.” You kissed his lips eagerly.

You almost came then.

Safe and adored, you could be in his arms forever. Just like that. In the quiet and peaceful night without a care of what happened outdoors. It was you and Jonathan. All you wanted.

A gasp shot out of you as Jonathan gave a particularly pleasant thrust. You tightened your hold on him.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

Could you both have more?

More time together to explore domestic bliss and passionate moments between work life would be an extended goal. One you were adding onto each day whether consciously or not. You would be with Jonathan because you both wanted to. No one could convince you otherwise.

“Darlin’, you’re—,” Jonathan inhaled sharply, “—so beautiful.” His words raced out as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

Your legs were squeezing around him, limbs locked tightly while you both met your pelvises together again and again.

“Don’t stop. Please… Jonathan.”

Sucking in much needed air, you shut your eyes. You let your body do what it craved, thrusting and quivering until it all came to a peak. It hit you like a wave.

Faintly, you could hear a ramble. A repetitive chant of your name.

You opened your eyes.

A loud gasp came from Jonathan as he quickly removed himself from you. His climax rushed through him quickly. Hands clasping the blanket as he came over you.

In a huff, Jonathan fell into your embrace. His hot breath fanned across your collarbone.

“We did it,” he whispered breathlessly, almost to himself.

“And it was amazing by the way.”

You could almost picture him flushing at your words.

Kissing the side of his head, you wrapped your arms around his back.

“Later, do you wanna take a shower, handsome?”

“A shower?”

“Yeah…” You ran a finger along his spine. “You’re welcome to stay over. Please?”

“I would not think to refuse.” Jonathan kissed your collarbone. “I’ll surely sleep well with you, darlin’.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

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[fluffyfluffyscarecrow]

Cuddling Headcanons with BTAS Jonathan Crane

I don't think this dude got a lot of affection as a kid, or at all honestly

So he's not used to being touched so lovingly

He'll be tense when you first try to hug him, but he'll soften if you tell him you're just trying to cuddle.

Practically becomes a doll in your arms

I hope you don't mind being monologued at, because this dude will talk your goddamn ear off. He's not trying to be obnoxious but it can come off that way...he's trying his best though

I think all the Scarecrows have sensitive skin. So even caressing him lightly will make him melt.

Similarly, I also think all the Scarecrows enjoy having their hair stroked. BTAS in particular is very cagey about this and believes you'd see him as weak if he asked you to pet his hair. So you'll have to initiate it.

He will try to act disinterested, like he's only just *allowing* you to do it because you want to, but once you run your fingers through his luxuriously fluffy hair, he can't hide his blush.

He gets more affectionate the more time he spends with you. He's still embarrassed by PDA due to his trauma, but he's trying to work through it. And of course he's often busy working on his fear toxin. But when he gets the chance to cuddle you he will always take it.

Honestly he just wants to feel loved.

[asmutwriter]

Are You Scared Yet? (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You're a new student at your university. You were smart and dedicated to learning. But every uni student gets up to some crazy things, right?

A/N - I have work tomorrow and instead of going to sleep for my day I'm here writing a fan fic. I make very sensible choices.

WORD COUNT: 2245

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: Reader is an introvert/anti social, mild cussing (bloody/Jesus), reader is a little judgy, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex/nudity

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

Not been proof read

You take a deep breath. Living on campus was new to you so you were quite nervous to say the least. Going into the dorm rooms you hear people chatting around you. Finding your room number. 16. Opening it with the new key you had. You shut the door behind you. Placing your rucksack down onto the chair in your new room.

You’d not been in education for about a year at this point. Having had a gap year to do some exploring so you had to get back into the mindset of doing if. You rst your head back as the door knocks. SOmeone walks in "Oh hey!" your roommate says. Her bubbly personaltiy being a surprise based on the rudeness of some of the other dorm people that you’d bumped into. "Im Lucky" she comes over to you. Hugging you. You gently pat her back before she moves away. Resting a hand on her hip she eyes you up and down.

Your oversized hoodie and jeans being a contrast to her mini skirt and tight shirt. Both leaving very little to the imagination. You wihs you had the confidence to wear something like that. "Im Luna"

"Oh that is a beautiful name" she says, cuaisng you to smile. SHe hugs you again "I think we're going to be best friends" she says. ALmost squealing as she moves away from the hug. "What is it that you're studying?"

"Art and drama"

"Oh my friend did that last year. I tried but got bored. Everything I do mildly creative ends up looking like a toddler did it” you let out a soft chuckle

“So does mine but that doesn’t mean I don’t try to do it”she laughs “what do you do instead then?”

“I do psychology"

"Thats cool. I was debating doing it but decided against it” a knock at the door stops your conversation as she looks owards it

"come in". she says. SOmeone walks in.

"Lucky do you want to come see my new room?" she nods, looking at you as she stands

"DO you want to come?"

"No Im ok tha k you. Ive got to unpack" she looks at your singular rucksack but nods

"ALright then. See you later" she smiles before walking off. You grab your bag. Taking out your various items. Your diary, book, clothes, etc. SOrting it all out onto your bed before putting it away properly on your side of the room.

Youd moved in on the Saturday. Sunday having a few induction days or various groups you could join. Then Monday being peoples first day at uni. Now it was Sunday. After a night in reading yur book. Your roommate coming in during the early hours of the morning, very drunk. You got up early and explored the grounds. Going over to a stall with various cakes and such on it.

You hear someone letting out a groan beside you. "Hi there Luna"

"Did someone have a good time last night?" you look at Lucky standing next to you. Sunglasses on despite the dark weather. SHe nods. Taking the glasses off as she looks at you. A black eye adorning her face. "Jesus what happened to you?"

"I had a terrible fight. With the floor. ANd lost" you let out a slight chuckle as she picks up one of the cupcakes. The lady at the stall going to speak but she shushes her. Walking off. You grab out a fiver from your purse, placig it down and mouthing 'sorry' to her. Catching up with your new friend. SHe bites down into the cake, a moan escaping her lips as she speaks with her mouth full "That is a bloody good cake". SHe looks at you, swallowing before talking again "what did you get up to last ngiht?"

"Nothing in particualr. I read my book, had a shower, then went to bed"

"You should come out with me tonight"

"I have classes early tomorrow morning so I really shouldnt"

"Oh come on. Itll be fun!" she grabs your arm "I can introduce you to some of my friends. I think you'll like one of them. Hes handsome and he likes books to. Plus you have similar fashion tastes. Oh lets look over here" SHe drags you over to a stall. Making small talk with the person behind it. You both go round to the rest of the stalls. Meeting a couple of her other friends.

The day going past quckly. You manage to convicne your new friend to stay in the night. Inviting her and two of her other friends rund. You stay up till quite late. Talking about a whole variety of things. Sadly things that didnt overly interest you. Boys you found cute. WHat lipstick shade was the best. Hair products. Although you found the conversation lacking in intellect you enjoyed the girls company so engaged in the talk with them.

You found one of the girls was also doing art. So you agreed to walk to class together. Her name was Hope. Sitting next to her in class, you found she had a lot higher intellegence then you initially thought when yo first met her. ACtually having a decent conversation with her until your professor walked in. Then every brain cell she seemed to have rotted away as she practicly stared at her. A young woman. Probably early thirties. Eyeliner perfect, hair styled in a way that looked both messy yet neat. You chuckle slightly. You were unaware that this new friend of yours swung that way, and this was certainly an interesting and entertaining way to find out.

"Please can you all call me Destiny. I would go about the formality of you using my doctorate name but we are here to make art. Not have a tea party with the queen. So-" she says. "I want everyone to pick up their pens. Pencils. Paints. Paper mache. WHatever you need to make a piece that says 'I am me'. You have the rest of the day. I will be judging them when you all go home to some sort of party Im sure"

You pick grab out your sketch book and pencils. Starting to trace your art piece. Noticing your friend still drooling over your teacher. You nudge her. Cuasing her to fall out of the trance. SHe looks at you. Her face turning a wonderful shade of tomato red.

"How much of that did you get?"

"Soemthing about her being our destiny"

"Ok then" you laugh. Explaing to your love stricken friend what she needs to do.

Once she listened she started her piece, as did you. You did a simple piece of work. A black and white picture of yourself. Behind it a mass of colour. Tryng to show that although you appeared dull on the outside, you had a lot of fun to show to those who got to know you.

Hope links an arm with you as you leave the lecture. "Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"You know that we're here for education right? ANd npt to drink ourselves to death"

"Oh come on"

"Ive got a very good book and a film to watch though"

"You can do that any day"

"I can have a party any day" she rolls her eyes.

"Come for like... an hour. If you dont like it then you can go back to your room"

"Fine..."

"Yay!" she exclaims. "I'll be round to take ypu and Lucky at 9. SPeak of the devil!" Lucky walks up to you both. Linking an arm with you on the other side. "I was just telling Luna about our party tonight"

"Youre coming?"

"I am" she squeals. Hugging you close to her. You gently pack her back. "You can borrow one of my dresses if youd like?"

"Oh no. Im not wearing a dress"

"Yes. Yes you are" you give her an uncomfortable look "At least wear a skirt".

"Skirt but a hoodie. ANd tights"

"Deal" she holds her hand out for you to shake. To which yo do.

If this was a movie. There would be a cheesy dress up montage. WHere the popluar girl takes off your glasses and straitens your hair and your suddenly beautiful. But this isnt a movie, so you settle with them doing their makeup in your room. Playing various pop music on their 'top of the charts' CD. Putting some mascara on your, as well as a deep blue skirt paired with a grey hoodie and black tights.

You get to the partry. You stand awkwardly in the corner. Watching men and woman get more and more drunk. With each drink they seem to strip too. Leaving a lot of half naked people around you.

Lucky stuck by your side for the first hour. Getting herself drinks. She had gone off to get drinks some more 20 minutes ago and hadnt returned. Hope stuck by your side though. Not drinking, joining you in a joint sober. You did start to enjoy yourself. You were planning on going for an hour but ended up staying for 2. Not a long time compafred to most people but for you, it was a lot of time to socialise.

So you bid your friend farewell. Telling her that you were grwing tired and would see her in class the following day. SHe agrees. Seeming happy that you had a good time. Sad to see you go but understood how introverted you are.

You head back to your dorm room. WHen you get there you see a tie firmly tied around the door handle. Now, you werent necersarily the most outgong person you knew. But you did know what that meant. So you turn tail. Annoyed that your friends had managed to convince you to not take your tote bag with you book in. You guess youd check the university library and see if they had anything in there to read.

Thankfully the library was run by book enthusiasts so was open 24/7. You go inside. Smiling at the lady at the desk as she smiles back to you. You idle down the rows of books. Seeing if any screamed out at you. You found one in the fantasy isle. Picking it up you turn it to read the blurb.

"Id recomoend this book instead" a voice says. Making you jump back at the suddeness of a male voice. You thought it was only you and the librarian (who was a female). "Sorry, didnt mean to startle you"

"No. No its fine. I just wasnt expecting anyine else to be here" you say. Now that you were over your initial scare you take a look at the man. Dark hair contrasting his vibrant blue eyes. Glasses sat comfortably on his nose as he wears a blazer over a vest shirt.

"I wasnt expectinh to see anyone else either. Normally its just me here reading up on studies". DUe to his youthful featrues yete his smart attire you couldnt tell if he meant in a professor or a student kind of study. He seemed to be able to tell your confusion as he continues speaking. "I work here". He outsteetches his hand towards you. "Professor Crane". Yiu take his hand.

"Luna. Like the moon. Ironic given that I often suffer from insomnia" he chuckles. "What do you study then professor?"

"Psychology"

"No way. My friend is studying that! Lucky... I dont know her last name"

"Yes. I know Lucky" he smiles. Obviously not overly impressed by the name drop. "WHat do you study then? Assuming you do come here and havnt just decided to sneak into a unis library"

"I stidy art. Not quite the level of psychology but still good fun".

"WHat made you come here rather then go out and party?"

"I was at a party but I decided to go back to my dorm". He looks around the library. "Oh no. There was a tie on my dorm door. I know how promiscous my roommate is so I just decided to leave her to it".

"Ahh. Well, if your wanting something to read whilst you wait then Id recomend this" he turns. Taking out a book from the shelf and handing it to you. You take it from him, turning it over to read the blurb. "Its a very good stroy line with some strong characters"

"Ive read this author before. Hes a good writer". You place it atop the oteer one youre still holding. "Ill add it to the pile"

"What book is that one?" he motions to the one your holding. "I saw you get it from the fantasy section"

"Its part of a series I read. Not read this one rhoufh. Its about an angel who solves crimes. Using his powers to force people to tell the truth"

"Sounds..."

"Utterly insane?"

"I was going to say interesting but yeah, that sums it uo better" he smiles. "I have taken up enough of your time. I imagine that you are wanting to get back to your reading. So I shall leave you to it Miss Luna. I hope you enjoy your books. And I hope tat your roommate lets you back into your dorm at some point tonight"

"If not then Im sure the librarian wont mind me camping out here" you joke. Causing him to let out a laugh. Adjusting his brief case before turning and walking out.

Next

[hotchsofficialwifey]

Heyo, I'm about as new to requests as you are to writing fanfictions, so please also bear with me if I do this wrong xD Also, just write and don't say sorry, after all we should be thanking you for putting your content out there :3 Thanks for doing this! Looking forward to your stories :-) So for the prompts:

- Jonathan Crane date with scientist!reader (I'd be really interested in something completely different from Crane's interests, like computer science/math). Maybe they know each other from university and get in touch again when he works at Arkham and appears on the news or sth.

- Neil Lewis smut where the reader crushes a little too much on a character in a movie (👀) and Neil gets jealous.

- Jonathan Crane fluff/smut where the reader has a nightmare and Crane tries to comfort them while also being turned on by the fear? xD

hi! thanks so much for your request, sorry it took me so long to get to it. I'll try to do all of your requests but i'll start with the last one. thanks again, hope you enjoy!

summary: your sleeping over at your boyfriend Jonathan's house when you have a terrible nightmare. thankfully, he's there to help.

pairing: jonathan crane x fem!reader

warnings: light smut (jonathan's horny but nothing really happens, more smut to come later ;) ), fluff, descriptions of a bad dream (nothing too scary, dw), use of fear toxin, hurt/comfort,

You're sitting on a field, eating ice cream on a sunny day, and the drizzling rain doesn't deter you from enjoying your summer afternoon. The world is bright, fun, colorful, and at ease.

But it all passes as soon as it came. The drizzling rain turns into booming thunder, and it pours and pours like buckets. You run into a nearby store, soaking wet and praying for a safe place to wait out the storm. The sky is a nauseating shade of grey, you notice once in the safety of the store. Then, you see it. A shadow lurking in the walls with red piercing eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you inch away from it.

It, however, lunges towards you, and initiates a chase. You're running through the pouring rain, heart pounding and screaming for help, but the world is empty. Silent. Under different circumstances, maybe even peaceful. You run faster and harder, wailing and begging for help, but when you turn around...it's gone! You sigh in relief, but hide behind a tree for safe-keeping. You wait a few moments, but the coast seems clear. As soon as you begin to walk back to the store, your snatched by a shadowy claw wrapped around your neck.

You wake with a jolt, gasping as your eyes shoot open. It was a dream, you think. Just a dream.

"You okay?" A gravely, half-asleep voice asks. You turn to see Jonathan's soft brown eyes, and your heart slows at the sight of him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." You say, still slightly breathless. But upon remembering the dream, tears resurface in your eyes. " I just had a really fucked up dream." You say with a quivering voice.

"Oh, baby." Jonathan coos, wrapping his arms around you. "It's okay..." He murmurs. His voice is sweet as honey, but his mind is far from it. The tightening in his pants only grows as tears begin to stream down your face and land on his white shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, hoping you don't notice how flustered he is as his hand rubs your back carefully.

"Jonny?" Your sweet voice calls. "You okay?"

He nods quickly, trying to play it cool.

"Yeah..." he smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go back to sleep, sweetheart..." As you both lay back down, he quickly hides the can of fear toxin he used on you.

a/n: yay, first fic on here!! not my best work, but i wanted to write a little something because i feel like I kept y'all waiting for too long lol. hope this was okay, much more to come soon!

[gothamite-rambler]

"Is he okay?" Scarecrow, of all people, asked with concern. (Batfamily Chronicles Microfiction Series)

Scarecrow (British accent): Hey, kid you've been breathing in my fear toxin for a few minutes. I usually relish this, but you're not screaming or crying. Everything good?

Red Robin (Tim): My dad just died, called me to tell me he loved me... I found his bloody corpse. No time to save him... I have accepted that life is meaningless. I have nothing to fear because what's to fear when you give up on life?

Scarecrow (analyzing the Robin): Deep depression from the loss of a parent is typical. This sadness will pass with time.

Robin (blinking quickly): There's no passing except both of them being dead. I feel nothing. There's no joy in anything, being happy, the moments with your parents, all gone. I embrace my sadness like a long lost lover.

Scarecrow: Right, right, where's Batman? You should go with him and rest for the night.

Batman walked over to Red Robin and placed one of the masks on his face then turned him away to head to the car.

Batman: You can sit this one out, okay? You're going through a lot and I don't want you to go insane from the toxin.

Red Robin: There's toxin? I wasn't aware, my whole life is nightmare.

Red Robin walked away while whisper singing a jazz song his father played for him once.

Red Robin: My lovin' daddy left his baby again/ Said he'd come back but he forgot to say when...

Scarecrow: Hey, kid I may be clinically insane, but don't give up on life. It'll get easier.

Red Robin waves his hand faintly while walking through the toxin fog to find the car.

Scarecrow: You're going to give him the usual antidote, correct?

Batman (nodding): Yeah, sorry about that, he's usually... not acting like me on a bad day.

Scarecrow: Seems he lost his father in a truly horrific manner. I'm guessing, which makes it hilarious to me, but I imagine a normal sane minded person would be shell shocked after it all settled in. He masks in front of others as a defense mechanism?

Batman: Yes, he masks it well with his friends, but when he's with me... that happens and I can not handle it.

Scarecrow (crossing his arms): He's continuing to fight crime with you which is admirable. Working is better than laying around all day. Grief can hinder progress in life, so you just have to keep moving. Be there for him, in times of grief a good support team helps bring the person back to normal.

Batman: Tsk... I forget you were a professor of psychology before you went insane, uh thanks. Can I just take you down and arrest you early then?

Scarecrow: Yeah, sure mate. I saw a young man who is reeling from his father's death and while I wish him the best, that's satisfying enough for me.

Batman glared at the man and punched him unconscious.

Batman: You had to be an asshole? Couldn't be nice for the entire conversation? Figures.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Sleepless Nights

Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings:

soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.

Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.

The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.

As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.

Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.

“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.

She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”

Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.

“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”

Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.

She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”

Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”

He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”

Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."

He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."

He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."

She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.

“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.

His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.

Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.

His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.

Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.

A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.

She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.

He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"

She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."

Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."

He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."

She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."

They both stood there looking at each other.

"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."

He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."

She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."

Author’s Notes:

Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune

[godspeedviper]

How the doctors handle your sick days - Headcanons

SFW || TW: mentions of needles, vaccines, pills & IV drip.

This one's for the girls, goths, and gays that have a chronic illness, a disability, or are just plain old sick. As a chronically ill girlie myself I'm always craving caretaker fics but never find them so I had to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

Dr. Jonathan Crane

He immediately shifts into a stoic clinical demeanor the moment you start to show any signs of discomfort. At first you find it a bit worrisome because his voice seems so cold and detached, but now it makes you feel grounded and safe.

Jonathan always makes sure you have everything you need, but he unfortunately doesn't think much further than that. It takes him some time to learn how to comfort you as well as heal you.

The best part about having him by your side when you're ill is that he can always talk you out of a bad state of mind. Above all, Crane remains a psychologist, and he takes pride in his ability to override your negative thoughts.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

You are utterly spoiled. Hannibal makes sure to cook for you and bring your meal to bed or the living room so you can eat comfortably. In the evenings, he makes sure to run a hot bath for you with herbs and epsom salts to soothe any aches and open up your respiratory system.

Since he is a doctor after all, he has prescribing rights, and will usually write prescriptions for any necessary medications. Need to get an injection, or an IV drip? Hannibal does that for you at home.

His pride and possessiveness makes him want to give you the best possible care to ensure someone else doesn't touch you this way. Hannibal gets nervous at the thought of your safety and health being out of his hands. How could he trust someone else with such a precious life? What if they made a mistake and hurt you or worse?

Dr. Robert Laing

"I'm not that kind of doctor." is always the first thing he says when you mention that you aren't feeling well. However, this doesn't mean he's not helpful, he is still a pathologist. Laing always does his best to make you feel better.

He's always reading up on your symptoms and possible treatments. If something is out of his grasp, he isn't afraid to admit it and seek out assistance. Even if he can't be the one to treat you, Laing will be there with you every step of the way to advocate for you and make sure you feel safe.

Much like Scarecrow, at first he seems rather cold and detached, but it's only his training taking over. However, his starting bedside manner is much better, and over time he adapts very well to your needs.

Dr. Spencer Reid

Now he's definitely not that kind of doctor, but that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to take care of you. His eidetic memory comes in clutch with any possible knowledge about your condition and how to act accordingly.

He always tries to be there for your doctor appointments or for any major procedures. Spencer wants to make sure you're being properly cared for and he isn't afraid to confront anyone that talks down to you or dismisses your symptoms.

When you're resting at home he clings to you like a lost puppy. He happily reads to you when you lack the energy to talk, or if you just want a bedtime story. He never forgets to check in on you even when he's away on a case, and will often ask Garcia to pick up items from the pharmacy for you if he can't do it himself.

Ao3 || Guidelines || Ko-Fi

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 | Jonathan Crane

NOTES -> Hello hello! im gonna be in uni full time again starting first week of september so uploads will be much slowerrrr im sorry. I’ll try to write as much as i can for u my little loves!

REQUEST -> Based off the prompt 15 from this list here

SUMMARY -> Your boss, Jonathan Crane, plans on isolating you away from your old life, consuming you whole until you become nothing but devoted to him...and you're too naive to see the mind games that the expert psychiatrist is playing.

WORD COUNT -> 3.3k

WARNINGS -> Smut, p in v, soft!dark Jonathan, doctor/nurse relationship, boss/employee relationship, creampie

MASTERLIST

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jonathan felt his chest tighten as he narrowed his blue eyes behind his glasses. His focus was locked on you and only you, along with the orderly speaking to you for the last few minutes.

You were a nurse at Arkham, young and bright-eyed, so full of energy — and that caught Jonathan’s attention. Your unusually cheerful demeanour and sweet aura drew him in, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was how you’d always give him a cute little wave every time he’d pass by you, or maybe it was how you’d smile at him when everyone else seemed to cower away from the stoic doctor. 

Or maybe it was because once he saw you leaving work in your everyday clothes instead of your usual scrubs, and when you seemingly bent over to pick up your keys which you dropped on the ground, he could see the lace of your pink panties poking out of your low-rise sweatpants — but I guess we’ll never know. 

See, that was the problem. You were so sweet, but you were like that with everyone you worked with; which made Jonathan feel inferior in many ways, but he promised himself that he’d have you eventually.

He didn’t want to hurt you by any means — oh god, no. He’d rather torture himself than watch you suffer through any anguish. However, he did want everyone around you to fall victim to a rather sinister fate if it meant they stayed away from you. 

Jonathan didn’t really consider himself a sadist, but watching those around you seemingly go missing and suddenly quit their jobs at Arkham (unwillingly, of course), derived an innate sense of pleasure within him. 

That was one of the perks of being the chief psychiatrist — he had all the power in the world to do whatever he pleased within the walls of Arkham, no matter who he hurt in the process. Jonathan would quietly fire many employees who he felt were “too friendly” with you, but he’d always tell you that they’d mysteriously quit or that they had changed jobs. 

“Perhaps they just didn’t have it in them to help the…unique patients we house here,” he’d say to you. “Not everyone is as dedicated and as kind as you are, you know?” 

Foolishly, you let his flattery get into your head; you let yourself fall for him without even realizing it.

You believed that the universe divinely guided you to him. You were sure of it — he was just so kind and understanding. You couldn’t believe the other staff of Arkham didn’t see him the way you did! How could they dislike him? Fear him? 

To Jonathan, you were like an angel that fell from above, capturing his cold, dead heart within your warm, beating, and very alive one. You were so kind to the patients, so gentle with them — and your patients only ever had good things to say about you. 

As you spoke to the orderly in front of you about what you did over the weekend, you noticed your boss looking rather tense from the corner of your eye. His jaw was clenched slightly, and his expression unforgiving. He exhaled sharply before ushering you over toward him, causing you to excuse yourself from your current conversation. 

“Doctor Crane,” you greeted sweetly, “how are you?”

“I’m rather stressed today,” he answered softly, taking on that same gentle tone that he always seemed to take with you. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, but I'm worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side slightly as if to emphasize your confusion. 

“I think perhaps we should speak in my office about this,” he offered. “Come with me, please.” 

Your smile suddenly faltered slightly as anxiety and paranoia ran rampant through your veins.

Your paranoid thoughts had to be put on the back burner as you took a seat across from him in his office, watching him as he sat down at his desk. His suit was pristine as always — and today, he opted for a brown sweater vest underneath it.

You’d count every thread and stitch on his suit for him if he asked you to. 

“Doctor Crane—”

“Just Jonathan is fine,” he interrupted before clearing his throat. “I wanted to speak to you in private about a certain concern of mine.” 

“What is it?”

He sighed before he took off his glasses and meticulously placed them on his desk. He leaned forward slightly, and you stayed quiet as he hesitated for a moment before his smooth voice finally cut through the silence in his office between the two of you. 

“I’m worried that you may be overworking yourself,” he explained, looking at you with his tantalizing eyes. “I notice you pick up shifts and work overtime frequently, and I worry that you may be taking on more than you can handle. As your boss, I just want to make sure that you’re not burning yourself out as that can’t be good for you, and I believe in a healthy work-life balance.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth, unsure as to what you could say to him — that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say to you. Perhaps you had been overworking yourself, but that was just a part of you. Having a strong work ethic was something you strongly believed in, but maybe he was right. You couldn’t care for your patients if you were too exhausted to, right? 

Now that he mentioned it, you were quite tired today. You started to think about it — as of recently, you’d been slamming coffees left right and center to stay awake at work, hadn’t you? You just wanted to help out since you were fairly new around here, but maybe it was doing you more damage than good.

Jonathan saw your usually cheerful demeanour deflate in his office, and he looked at you sympathetically, “I know this is not something you’d want to hear, especially from your boss of all people — but I just want to ensure that all my staff are doing well, you know?”

You bit your lip for a mere second, hesitating to speak before you let the words fall from your lips, “You know, Jonathan, sometimes I feel like you’re the only person here who actually…cares about me.” 

He internally applauded himself — in a moment of vulnerability, you sought out comfort in him. Just like he had planned. Just like he wanted.

“I think you’re an exceptional nurse,” he mused, “and truthfully, I do enjoy working alongside you. So yes, of course, I care about you. I remember when I first started working after finishing my residency, I would exhaust myself constantly. I’ve learned through many years that it’s just not good for you.” 

Jonathan’s plan was being executed perfectly — he wanted to isolate you. He wanted you to come running into his arms, far away from everyone else around you. He was on his worst behaviour today, but he believed you brought out the best in him. 

You weren’t overworking yourself, but with Jonathan’s quick wit, years of training in psychology, and exceptional gaslighting skills, you thought perhaps he was right. Maybe you should take some time off of work, you thought.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, “how about you and I have drinks tonight instead? Forget about work and such. I think you need it.”

His words caused your cheeks to heat up. He was your boss, and this was way out of line for a boss to ask an employee. However, it didn’t help that you were very attracted to him.

“Drinks?”

“My place at eight. I have a bottle of cabernet I think you’d enjoy — If I remember correctly, you said it was your favourite?” 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “It is.” 

“So I'll see you tonight at eight, then,” he smiled softly, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “I’ll text you my address.” 

You nodded, slightly starstruck. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Once you’d parked your car on the side of the neighbourhood street, you stepped out into the chilly night, your high heels clicking against the pavement of the ground loudly as you made your way onto his porch.

You gave three soft raps to his front door before you heard shuffling coming from inside the house. After a few moments, the front door swung open gently, and Jonathan stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Come inside,” he ushered you, “make yourself at home, darling.”

And so you did. 

You two talked over a few glasses of cabernet, bringing up the topic of work a few times here and there, but he mostly attempted to get to know the real you. What you did in your spare time, what your hobbies were, if you were seeing anyone…

“Out of curiosity, are you seeing anyone?” Jonathan asked you casually, but his voice dropped an octave as he looked directly at you, resting his hand on your thigh rather boldly. “I’m asking because I've seen the way you look at me…” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered, your cheeks feeling warmer and warmer by the second with the way his hand was now resting on your leg. You couldn’t deny it now. “I didn’t mean…um, I just — you’re always so kind to me…and I–”

He shushed you softly, creeping his hand up a little further. “I’m quite flattered, darling. Not to worry,” he purred. “I figured it wouldn’t be very appropriate of me to tell you how hard it is for me to not look at you when you’re at work, but after today, I just don’t think I can help myself anymore…” 

Suddenly, his lips brushed up against yours, and as if it was instinct, your hands came to wrap around his shoulders. He let you pull him in even closer, his hands now coming to rest on your hips as you two kissed feverishly on his couch.

You and him were like a chemical reaction — explosive, unpredictable, and potentially fatal.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses. 

A shiver ran down your spine as his hold on your hips tightened slightly, his words causing your brain to short-circuit for a moment before you could think clearly again. 

“Jonathan, I–”

“Don’t speak, just give into it, my darling.”

You let yourself get lost in the constellation that was Jonathan Crane, letting him run his hands all over your body and kiss you with an insatiable hunger. Soft moans left your mouth as he peppered kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the delicate skin gently. 

You would’ve been worried about him leaving marks because you wouldn’t want your boss to see the next day at work — but you had to remind yourself that he was your boss. 

But none of that mattered when it felt so right; when his lips felt so good against your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he rasped, toying with the strap of your dress. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Please, Jonathan…”

Slowly, he took the dress off of your body, gently tossing the garment to the side as he looked at you in absolute awe. It was like looking at a priceless piece of art in a museum exhibit to him — nothing could compare. Even a picture wouldn’t do the sight in front of him justice. 

“Should we go upstairs?” you suddenly asked. 

Maybe it was the handful of wine you’d shared that evening, or maybe it was just sheer arousal; you weren’t sure which one, but all you knew was that you needed him to have his way with you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, taking your hand in his. “Just up the stairs to the left — I think I'll let you lead the way, darling…”

The two of you got up from the couch, hand in hand, and Jonathan’s eyes roamed your body from behind as you made your way up the stairs together. 

Of course, you came prepared — you know, just in case things were to happen. Before you left, you threw on your sexiest, laciest, lingerie underneath your dress, and it was a good thing you did because that investment certainly paid off.

He watched your hips sway in your lingerie, along with the heels you were still wearing (because we simply can’t forget about those), and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled from behind you. “Your body is heavenly.” 

“Shush,” you giggled, grabbing him by his tie and pulling him close once you reached the bedroom. 

He looked down at you in the dim lighting of his bedroom, noticing the way your skin was glowing under it. Your hair was slightly messy from making out on the couch earlier, and you had a small smile tugging at your lips — you were perfection if he’d ever seen it. 

Jonathan kissed you rougher this time, his hands finding their way into your hair, tugging ever so gently against your scalp. He backed you up onto the bed, pushing you down onto it as he undid his tie, looming over your delicate body which was sprawled out on his king-sized bed. 

After taking his tie off, he threw off his suit jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. You hummed softly, running your heel against his leg as he rushed to get himself out of his clothes. The tent in his pants made it all the more obvious how desperate he truly was for you, but you stayed patient. 

Once he was on the bed with you, he helped you out of your bra and panties, causing your cheeks to heat up from how exposed you felt. “You’re cute when you blush,” he commented when he noticed your blush, making you all the more flustered while he undid his belt. 

After freeing himself, his thick, veiny cock caught your attention, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. He was big — you weren’t sure how that was supposed to fit, but right now you were so wet, you were almost certain your walls would stretch out around him with ease. 

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, giving himself a few strokes before looking at you with his lip caught between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

Your back was arched and you let out a filthy moan as he slid himself into your warm, sticky cunt with little resistance. The sheer size of him alone had you feeling so full, and he stilled as he bottomed out in you so that you could adjust to him. “Tell me when,” he said softly, his hand coming to brush up against your hips softly. 

“You can move now,” you breathlessly said, giving him the green light. Your breath got caught in your throat as he started to set a gentle but deep pace, the tip of his cock brushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust. 

“O-oh–” you moaned.

His hands found purchase on your hips, and his eyes trailed over your face as he fucked you sensually, but slowly, eventually going harder and faster as you got accumulated to him. “So fucking tight, Jesus—” he choked out. You’d never heard him curse before, and his smooth voice had you clenching around him, to which he let out another moan. “Fuck, darling — you feel so good.” 

“Mm-hmm!” you squeaked, taking his cock deeper and deeper into your soaked cunt with every stroke. “Jonathan, fuck—!”

“Right there, darling?” he cooed softly, slamming his cock into your hole much rougher now, causing you to see stars as he stretched you open on his thickness. “Feels good, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes — oh my god!” you chanted, grabbing onto his biceps as you felt his fat cock drilling you. You were letting out feverish moans, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you became increasingly more cock-drunk by the minute. 

Your moans were like music to Jonathan. Like the sound he would hear being played once he died and went to heaven — because to him, this was heaven. You’d come running into the arms of the man who was slowly isolating you, breaking you; cornering you into his heart. 

But there’s always something so right about something so inherently wrong, isn’t there? 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he groaned, watching you with furrowed brows as he concentrated on your pleasure. “Are you close, darling? Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered breathlessly, moans being forced out of you with every delicious thrust he gave your cunt. “Gonna– oh, I’m gonna cum!” 

Jonathan watched in a mixture of pure bliss, awe, and satisfaction as you fell apart in his very hands. Yes — this is where he wanted you. He just wanted to love you, to show you how perfect he was for you, to take care of you and make you see that everyone else around you was just a waste of time. 

No more talking to orderlies who’d flirt with you, no more going out for after-work drinks with the other nurses. No, none of that. He was going to make sure that you’d work under him only, figuratively and literally.

“Gon’ cum,” he groaned, feeling his cock spurting ropes of cum into your warm, tight hole as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, not bothering to pull out. Your mind went blank as he filled you up wholly, stuffing you with his sticky, warm seed as you lay there fucked out from what just happened moments prior. “Why don’t you stay over tonight?”

You looked up at him groggily, mind still foggy from your orgasm. “What? I work tomorrow–”

“Take a paid day off,” he shrugged, pulling his softening cock out from your worn-out hole. “Use as many as you’d like darling, I won’t tell.” 

His teasing words caused you to throw your head back into the pillows blissfully with a sigh, genuinely believing that he only had your best interest at heart — he just didn’t want you to overwork yourself. It’s not like he was planning on totally locking you away from every living being in Gotham besides him or anything…

“I feel bad though,” you murmured sleepily. “I feel like I’m – I dunno – abusing my privileges.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty girl,” Jonathan assured you softly, turning off the lights so that only the moonlight was dimly shining into his bedroom. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head as he pulled the covers over you both, cradling you in his arms like you were made of fine china. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“You’re so lovely, Jon. You truly have such a kind soul.” 

“Surely nothing compared to yours, my darling,” he whispered against your hair as you closed your eyes. “Now, get some rest. We can talk about moving your things in here in the morning…”

Unfortunately, you had already dozed off in his embrace; too busy being washed away by sleep to hear his words. Jonathan smiled to himself — he’d never let you go now. You’d lost all control the moment you stepped into his house, unknowingly making yourself a hostage of some sort.  

In the end, as you clung to him, believing he was the saviour from your exhaustion, you failed to see that it was his “love” that had slowly consumed you whole, leaving you nothing but a hollow shell, devoured by the very hands that promised refuge.

Sometimes, the most dangerous traps are the ones we walk into willingly, thinking they’re the key to our freedom, as they say. But the cruel irony of it all is that we think we’re being saved from the jaws of this terrible world, only to be eaten alive by those who we call our saviours. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

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

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

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

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

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

[sunflowerrosewood]

He Has a Nightmare HC~ Gotham Boys

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of killing, nothing too graphic.

~~~

Jim Gordon 

~Jim has dealt with so much shit

~Between going after villains to dealing with the PD

~So when you two fell asleep one night

~He had a nightmare you were killed by multiple Gotham villains

~You don't notice he has a nightmare until you feel cold

~When Jim is sitting in the kitchen nursing something to drink

~But not facing the bedroom

~You have to come up from behind

~And hug him tight

~He will probably jump 

~But he melts in your embrace 

~He wont tell you want happened

~But he will allow to be vulnerable 

~And allow you to just mumble in a sleepy voice all the reasons you love him

Edward Nygma

~Edward didn't have nightmares often

~But seemed to have them after being in Arkham

~Then escaping to home

~You would only know when you heard him arguing with himself

~That he shouldn't wake you up

~That this makes him useless

~As you could hear him mutter these things

~Pull him down to the bed

~So you can cuddle into him

~And promise that you'll always be there

~Both sides will melt

~And he'll tell you about the nightmare 

~So you'll understand his pain

Oswald Cobblepot 

~Oswald had nightmares often

~And you usually knew

~The reason is that he talked in his sleep and would hold onto you tight

~You would feel his hands tighten

~And whimpers fall out of his lips

~You’ll probably have to wake him up

~Just to let him know that he is not alone

~He will be sweaty and his heart racing

~But as long as you kiss his lips

~And squeeze his hand

~Oswald will calm down

~Go get a washcloth to help him cool off

~And intertwine your hands before you fall back asleep

Jonathan Crane

~Nightmares plague his head all the time

~And it isn’t because it is his fault

~It usually has to do with his father

~And another person that you will know when he wakes up

~Because he gets as far away from you

~He is shaking in fear 

~It’s usually when he does not consume himself in fear

~But appears in his nightmare

~Allow him to slowly calm down on his own

~He’ll immediately climb back into bed 

~Because he needs to feel you by his side

~Usually he falls asleep slowly after

Jervis Tech

~Jervis usually has nightmares that his Alice runs away

~You ran away because he harms you

~Jervis is one of the ones who will wake you up

~Just to make sure you are real

~And still loves him

~Before you get tired again, you’ll notice the fear in his eyes

~Whisper to him how much you love him

~And kiss his cheek 

~Before cuddling into his chest which calms him down

Victor Zsasz

~Victor wont show he has nightmares 

~You usually know when you wake up

~And he’s sitting in the shared bathroom just staring

~No emotions are shown

~But you know what is going on

~So you’ll have to go in

~And kneel where you look up at him

~He won't say anything

~He’ll just pull you into his lap

~And holds you tight 

~Just the silent of the night is going to be heard

~Victor will pick you up and bring you back to bed

~Usually it takes just that before the two of you fall asleep

~Victor will probably mention his nightmare later on in the week

~When he is ready

Jeremiah Valeska

~Even after the spray, Jeremiah still gets nightmares

~It happens to be about him almost killing you

~And he’ll wake up to you being sound asleep

~He’ll touch your arm

~And sigh 

~Usually you know something happened because he’ll be in the lab

~Bent over

~And probably throwing things in anger

~When you ask him what’s wrong

~You’ll see the anger turn to worry

~An emotion you do not see often

~And Jeremiah will walk over to you to hold you tight

~Demanding you wont leave him

~Even though you never thought that way

~It’s feeling you near him that causes him to want to go back to bed with you

Jerome Valeska

~Jerome did not have nightmares too often

~He was awake in the middle of the night usually

~But when he did fall asleep and had nightmares

~He was similar to Oswald by holding you tighter against him

~But you would still be asleep 

~Until you feel him kissing your face and neck while rubbing your hip

~When you slowly wake up, Jerome will kiss you lips and grin

~Usually you wouldn’t ask much

~Until you watch his grin falter

~That’s when you touch his face

~And kiss him softly till Jerome makes you fall back into his chest

~Once the two of you hit the bed, he’ll still be rubbing your arms or hips

~But you’ll hear him yawn

~He falls asleep pretty quick

[prettypeppermint]

crane's paradox.

for dr. j. crane.

The water dribbled down your back like tear tracks, shushing your steamed and tender skin. He moved the showerhead in methodical circles against your rosy shoulder blades, large hands pilfering at your kelpy locks.

He sat on a stool adjacent to the tub, loving you with water--a language of change.

Despite the serenity taking place behind you, the scene before you was one of demented horrors--every irrational terror rationalized before your eyes. The water was black and bottomless, ostensibly swallowing your naked body up--oxidizing your skin and fermenting your organs. Your legs twitched periodically, trying to feel for the confines of the tub but getting continuously tricked by a vast emptiness. Faces emerged from the depths, twisted and morphed into something barely human. They groped at your waist and chest, each hand a searing blaze against your flesh.

The water rippled frantically as your every fiber trembled, frozen in a rock-solid state of shock. You couldn't blink.

The more he washed, the more blood trickled down the various valleys and edges of your form, swirling with the ridges of each tiny stream that eroded at your scalp, your back, your face. Ghosts of self-inflicted clawing stung your face.

Jonathan was wordless--a silent force of love. You didn't even realize he was there with you. You often felt alone, even in love. But feeling alone in fear was an entirely new feeling of dread.

"You were a bad girl today, angel.” The words barely permeated your foggy skull before you realized he was lifting you out of the water, “Bad girls need treatment so that they can be good again." He cradled your languid figure against his chest, drops of rose-tinted water leaking from your calves and the tips of your toes as they dangled across the nook of his elbow.

"I'm so very sorry it all turned out this way," he cooed, setting you down on the foot of his bed--the crisp snow hills of his duvet. He towered over you as he brought a towel to your locks and began drying them off with the touch of a feather. "But when you go exploring in forbidden places against my orders"--he makes his way down, patting each arm dry before wiping down your breasts--"you'll end up getting hurt."

Your eyes were forlorn and affixed on a faraway place, hallucinations still warping themselves into the tendrils of his hair and the wall behind him as he moved. He began dressing you in a set of white, lacy undergarments he had picked out for you prior. "And you know how much I detest seeing my angel hurt."

He slid the material up your legs and hoisted them over your hips with a trained dexterity. After clasping the brassiere between the place where your shoulder blades would kiss, he leaned down to press his tongue to the crest of your shoulder. Your skin was still radiating a firey warmth from the bath.

"But isn't something about it so thrilling? The thin membrane that separates fear and desire? The cerebrum keeps the left and right brain from ever touching, yet in doing so it maintains the unabridged function of the brain as one; they communicate through proximate isolation. Funny, isn't it? How that slim distance maintains the entire equilibrium--the entire function of the organ. Tell me, my love--would there be a Thisbe and Pyramus without the wall that separated their passion for each other? It's fascinating--the way in which the truest form of love prevails in the slimmest, most dire times of pain and fear. Oh, how I adore seeing you like this--at the mercy of my creation. So perfect--so effortlessly lovely and delicate even in this state of absolute terror.

"Let me love you--let me ease the pain out of you. Let me break the membrane that separates us, and we can join as one."

The last words grazed the chill of your earlobe as his breath teased at your pulse. You weren't sure when he'd wrapped his arms around you and locked you against his torso, but you began unraveling in his firmness. Your tensed muscles relaxed, and the visions began to subside. You saw them dissipating from the air; like mist having gone from an autumn morning before the leaves and birds awoke to notice the absence of the chill; like water swirling down the drain.

"I'm scared," you managed to croak. It came out dry and barely intelligible from hours of coaxed silence. He embedded shushes into the crown of your head.

This wasn't the work of the toxin; it was the hollow pit of desolation it left you with afterward.

"Jonathan, I'm scared," you repeated. The last consonant got lodged in your throat as a stifled cry scraped its way out before it. It was a foreign sort of comfort--crying into his skin and melting against his hold. "I'm so scared. What did you do to me?"

But Jonathan didn't do anything to you; it was you who snuck into his lab despite the rules he set for you. It was you who walked into an untimely experiment of torture on Scarecrow's most recent lab rat.

He pulled you into a kiss, the span of his fingers stretching around the entire back of your head. It was soft yet hungry, yearning yet kind. You seemed to be caught in all sorts of dichotomies today.

"You know I would never lay a finger on you," he muttered against your lower lip, "You're too soft--too delicate. As long as you're with me, I promise nothing will ever hurt you again.

"Now let me take care of you," he lulled, gently laying you back against the cool sheets, "Let Doctor treat you."

His lips gently ghosted the thin skin above your belly button before he looked up at you with an almost alienating, stoic countenance. "Say it."

Something went cold in the blue of his eyes--a shadow cast by a passing cloud.

"Please," you whispered, "Please fix me, Doctor."

x.

[slut4thebroken]

Cillian Murphy & Characters Masterlist

Smut - ❤️

Fluff - ✨

Angst - 🖤

Dark content - ❗️ (noncon elements)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

main masterlist

𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅:

༺˚ʚ Cillian Murphy ɞ˚༻

Stepdad!Cillian x cheerleader!reader ❤️

Stress relief ❤️

༺˚ʚ Emmett ɞ˚༻

Second Chances ❤️❗️

Ultimatum ❤️❗️

Emmett x wife!reader “series” ↓

Home Improvements ❤️

The Recipe ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Partners ❤️

All Work, No Play ❤️❗️(ongoing)

Practice Makes Perfect ❤️

Stranger ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Exposure Therapy ❤️❗️🖤✨ (ongoing)

Favorite Toy ❤️✨ (sub!jon)

baby bat ❤️❗️(blurb)

Meant to Be ❤️❗️

Nymphomania ❤️

Dangerous Game ❤️

Doctor’s Orders ❤️❗️

The Incident ❤️❗️

Erotomania 🖤❤️ (ongoing)

Safe ❤️❗️

Teacher’s Pet ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stuck ❤️

Little Black Dress (pt. 1) ❤️❗️

Until Next Time (pt. 2) ❤️❗️

Just a Dream ❤️❗️

Tease ❤️

Bully stepbro!Neil pt. 1

Promise ❤️

Pool Party ❤️

Possessive!Neil x bsf!reader drabble

Vacation ❤️❗️

Stay ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon 🖤 (pt. 1)

Daddy’s Little Girl ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

Trapped ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers? ❤️ 🖤 ✨ (ongoing)

Name Your Price ❤️

Party Favor ❤️❗️

The Deal ❤️

༺˚ʚ Thomas Shelby ɞ˚༻

Tommy’s Pet ❤️

Sweet Dreams ❤️❗️

Needs ❤️

༺˚ʚ Other ɞ˚༻

Earn Your Prize ❤️ (choose your own character)

༺˚ʚ Head Cannons ɞ˚༻

Stalker!reader pt. 1

Stalker!reader pt. 2

Glory hole

Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔:

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Jackson Rippner x stalker!reader ❤️

Jackson Rippner x fbi agent!reader ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Sex pollen ❤️

Scarecrow x vigilante!reader ❤️❗️

Change 🖤

Sub!Jonathan Crane ❤️

Jonathan Crane x innocent!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stepbro!Neil ❤️❗️

Desperate!Neil accidentally sticks you in the wrong hole and can’t stop ❤️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon pt. 2 ❤️

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

The bet ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

[fluffyfluffyscarecrow]

Cuddling/comfort with Gotham Jonathan Crane headcanons

Oh my god where do I even start with him

He would definitely have to trust you a lot to let you touch him at all, let alone cuddle him.

Once he trusts you he genuinely loves cuddles as they help him relax. He's not used to being touched so lovingly but he wants more of it!

He loves being held, especially when you're sleeping together. When he feels safe in your arms, he'll practically turn into a floppy plush ragdoll, just wanting to be loved and held close.

Loves forehead kisses!!!!!

The sensation of his hair being pet or played with is very soothing for him. He'll willingly lay in your arms for hours as you gently stroke his hair. Not only that, his hair is very soft and fluffy so if you love soft things, he's your guy.

His back and stomach are very sensitive to touch, but he isn't aware of that until you lift his shirt to stroke his back and he erupts in a fit of laughter.

Overall just a precious guy who needs a lot of love.