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dilf-issues · 5 months ago

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Fuck or Die | Jonathan Crane & Jackson Rippner

Synopsis; You’re stuck in a locked cell with the twins, a mysterious gas emerged

Warnings; Sex pollen, non-con/dubcon. Smut, threesome. PWP. LIKE NO PLOT AT ALL, DOUBLE PENETRATION, breeding kink, anal

A/N; Sorry for being M.I.Im so busy OML but here is a gift <3

A loud hiss can be heard in the air as the three of them snap their heads up to see what is going on. The confusion was written all over their face, they could only hear the sounds but they couldn’t exactly see what was occurring. Jonathan was the first one to realize it as the panic struck across his face, walking towards the door they once entered he tried opening it but to no avail, it was locked shut. He cursed to himself not wanting anyone to panic, especially Y/N who’s most anxious when things like this happen. Jackson caught on, as he walked towards his brother, trying to pull open the steel door but it was still latched shut.

They were trapped.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Y/N questioned, trying to see what the fuss was with the two as they stared at each other hesitantly and then back at her, “What?”

“We’re trapped” Jonathan stated as he could see the color of the girl’s face pale as she took a step back. “Calm down, Y/N. We’ll find a way out. We always do, alright?”

“That’s the thing. You found a way out. I’ve never been in a situation like this before…” Y/N could feel her heart pounding violently in her ribcage as her lungs started to constrict, limiting the air as her breathing started to pick up. Jackson walks towards the girl, carefully placing a hand on her back, trying his best to calm her down. The last thing they need was her freaking out. She needs to be as calm as possible so that she can think straight and find a way out.

Jonathan motioned Jackson to look up and pay attention to the noise and mist coming from above them, Jackson nodded as he caught on to what Jonathan was trying to say. “Do you know what it is?” Jackson asked as Jonathan speculated a few answers in his head.

“It can be a few things, non-lethal… doesn’t kill it’s subject until they were tested” Jonathan answered as Jackson received the information while looking around the room. Y/N was in the corner, trying hard to calm herself down and not be a burden to them. She barely heard what they were saying, she was too focused on healing herself.

They monitored this facility for months and months and nobody was here. They came here to collect more information on the organization. This room was probably automated.

The hissing in the air lasted for about three hours and they still had no idea what it was. It wasn’t making them feel dizzy or pain or sleepy, at least it hadn’t kicked in just yet.

Jonathan’s best bet was that the door would open by tomorrow, it’s what they always did with prisoners. It’s automated so a door towards their observing room would probably open up, it explains why there was a big ass mirror staring right back at them. They didn’t stop looking for an escape whatsoever, for all they know this gas could carry diseases—if it was that, they were in big big trouble.

But oh boy, were they wrong.

Jackson was the one to feel the symptoms first. The room was cold but he was excreting a crazy amount of sweat that made him take off his jacket and toss it to the floor as he shags his hair, feeling it growing damper and damper by the second. It felt like his blood was boiling, his skin was burning. Jonathan eyed him carefully, studying his manners to see if it was anything he was familiar with. “Hot?”

Jackson nodded, wiping the sweat on his forehead as he took a seat right next to Y/N, checking up on her once again. She was calmer now, at least now that Jackson explained what Jonathan told him they should be fine.

Jonathan starts to get what Jackson is saying. The room was hot. It was getting hotter and hotter for both of them, they were sitting in a goddamn oven.

“Hey, is it just me or it’s literally burning?” Jackson asked as Y/N shook her head, furrowing her brows in confusion as she stared at both men back and forth. “It’s fucking boiling in here” Jackson unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, he wanted to take off all of his clothes but he didn’t want to make Y/N feel uncomfortable.

The second symptom came in when both of their throats suddenly went dry, their mouth was dry but it wasn’t producing any saliva to lubricate their throat. Jonathan’s eyes widened when he starts to realize what was going on.

“Jackson, we gotta get out!” He shouted suddenly, startling Jackson and Y/N as they stood up quickly. They wanted to walk towards him but Jonathan pointed at Y/N to stay where she was. “Don’t fucking come near me!”

“Jonathan, what’s going on?” Jackson implored as he told Y/N to stand down. “You’re acting weird…”

“It’s not fucking safe, Jackson! We gotta get out of here, right now!” Jonathan saw this one too many times. He was so sure it was what he thought it was. Hell, he even managed to create this himself once.

The thing they were inhaling wasn’t gas. It was pollen. It is a stimulating pollen that made humans turn into sick monsters. These people used the pollen for breeding purposes. They wanted to make an enhanced being without needing any serum. They wanted someone gifted to exist biologically. Jonathan had experienced this himself but he had never seen what it did to other people. He was lucky enough he had an antidote before he went completely feral.

It was terrifying.

“Y/N… Y/N’s not safe” Jonathan swallowed the nonexistent liquid as he took shallow breaths for himself. Jackson started to feel the same thing Jonathan was feeling and it made him frantic. Jackson forced Jonathan to tell him what was going on or he was going crazy. Their stomach churned and they felt hungry.

Only this time it wasn’t for food.

“J-Jackson… We need t-to… Get o-out… Y/N’s not safe” It was getting harder for him to talk now. He was starting to feel it. They were starting to feel it. It was coiling in their bellies, growing hot and heavy. They were goners now.

“Jonathan, you’re freaking me out. Stop talking about me like I’m not here! At least let me help…” All she did was stood closer to him and touched his back but Jonathan’s response was beyond feral. He grunted, taking her wrist with his arm as he gripped on it, not wanting to let her go. Jonathan pushed her against the wall as she whimpered, feeling the wall colliding with her back as she whined in pain. “J-Jonathan?”

His other hand took her free wrist. Pinning both of them beside her head as he buried his face in her neck. He took a long whiff her scent—fear. It fueled him to the brim with the desire to absolutely destroy her, break her into tiny little pieces.

“J-Jackson, help… It h-hurts…” She pleaded but Jackson did nothing. He stood there, watching Jonathan feel her up and he liked it. He liked seeing his brother grope her, feeling up her perky breasts, rubbing her pussy through her pants.

God, he loves it.

Y/N felt the lump in her throat growing as the tears start forming in the corner of her eyes. Y/N stands no chance against Jonathan, she couldn’t do anything. All that is going through her mind was that maybe Jonathan was triggered but she had no idea why Jackson just stood there, watching her and did absolutely nothing.

“Why are you d-doing this, Jonathan?… Jackson!” She exclaimed, wanting him to do something, anything. Jonathan’s hand traveled down to her pants as he eyed them down. With a swift motion Jonathan effortlessly tore her pants off as he immediately kneeled in front of her, letting go of her wrists because he was positive she wasn’t going to go anywhere. He stared at the sheer cotton covering the most prized possession and out of nowhere he went and darted his tongue out, licking the nub of her clit as she whimpered to herself. Jackson stood there, his cock was dripping and heavy in his pants. He took them off, palming himself through his boxers as he watched his brother licks Y/N’s pussy softly, wetting the garment as her knees starts to become weak.

Jackson then steps forward, tearing her suit off of her torso and so does her bra. She cried when Jackson groped her breasts, leaning down to lick her pebbled nipples that had hardened from the cold air. Jonathan took off her panties, and his fingers attacked her swollen and puffy clit, rubbing it harshly as she thrashed against the wall, not having the power to even help herself up. She fell down to the ground, naked and afraid as Jonathan spreads her legs and starts entering his fingers inside her tight little cunt.

“Jonathan, Jackson... Please... Stop!” The stretch was excruciating and Jonathan didn’t show her mercy, he pumped his fingers in and out of her hole at a rapid pace, earning a scream of agony that had only made them even more feral. When she looked to her right, she can see Jackson, stroking his big and hard cock to the sound of her crying and being molested on the floor. Y/N was ashamed, there was nothing more than humiliation, fear, and disappointment running through her mind. She was drenched, leaking onto Jonathan’s fingers as she kept looking at Jackson’s cock that was dripping with pre-cum. She was ashamed that her body was enjoying what was happening to her.

Jonathan curled his fingers inside her pussy as she felt the pit growing inside her tummy, her pussy was tingling and she knew what was going to happen.

She was going to cum.

“J-Jonathan…!” She shouted as she let it all out, her thighs shaking and her body quivering as she moaned out loudly. Despite him being emotionless, the subtle smirk on the corner of his lips can be seen and there’s nothing more sinister than that. “Please… S-stop… Jonathan… Jackson… This is not like you…”

Both of them completely ignored the words that were coming out of her mouth. Jonathan stripped off of his clothes and pants, showing him and all of his glory. His cock was hard, deep purple veins were poking out as the tip leaked with clear pre-cum. They both hovered over her body like predators as Jonathan picked her up. Y/N didn’t fight, she didn’t say anything because nothing she said can change anything. She doesn’t know why this was happening to her.

Jonathan lined up his cock on her dripping entrance as Jackson came behind her, and what he did next made her scream the loudest she had ever scream.

Both of them impaled her holes at the same time, thrusting together at the same time, and she can feel herself psychically break. Their huge cocks filled her up to the point where they can see the curve of their bulges in her belly, moving up and down. Y/N hides her face into Jonathan’s neck, whimpering and pleading, hoping that the real Jonathan was still there to stop all of this.

Both of the men groaned and grunted loudly, loving the way how tight and warm her holes were. Their mission was still clear in their mind.

They wanted to fill all of her holes full of their cum. So full until it leaked onto the floor.

Jackson held her neck lightly choking her as she strained from her breath. They were both having the time of their lives, having their cocks stuffed into a pretty little cum rag all for them to use.

The noise they made was a mix of pleasure and pain, Y/N couldn’t form words out of her mouth anymore, she only screamed and screamed as she felt every inch of their dicks thrusting inside her.

Y/N could feel them twitching inside of her and she knew this was finally going to end.

Jackson and Jonathan grunted at the same time as the warm liquid was released inside her, painting her walls white as she could feel them filling her up. The small bloat in her tummy can be seen, she was so full of their cum.

When they were done, hey laid her onto the floor as the tears start pouring down her face. The cum inside her pussy seeped out onto the floor, pooling underneath her.

Jackson and Jonathan watched their seed escape her pussy and her ass as they felt themselves hardened again. They both stood up, picking her back up to repeat what they were doing.

Y/N was going to spend the next twenty-four hours with all of her holes filled with Jackson’s and Jonathan’s cum and there’s nothing she can do about it.

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lau219 · 3 months ago

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Summaries for Current Kinktober Lineup

🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍

🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍

🔥 Completion of Every Inch of You — Tommy finally acts on his long-time desire for Y/N, completely surprising her and showing her that not only can the right man make sex amazing, but that a real man not only admires a woman’s curves, but thoroughly enjoys them.

🎃 Cillian Murphy x Reader — Cillian is all for charity, but not for the pointless soirées that go with it. But when the charity he’s most tied to throws a gala, he’s expected to be there. Ordinarily, he finds any theme or gimmick incredibly stupid, but this particular event’s masquerade theme means at least he can disappear among the other attendees and not be hounded. When he meets an elegant, beautiful stranger with an adventurous side, he seizes the opportunity to finally enjoy one of these events.

🤍 Jonathan Crane x Reader — Y/N has been Jonathan Crane’s research assistant for a year now, and despite his extremely stoic and clinical demeanor, she has a hopeless crush on him. But she also wants badly to impress him, and she’s constantly striving to be the ideal assistant. Little does she know that Jonathan has spent the last year carefully assessing and analyzing her, not only because he’s secretly wanted her all along, but also to learn her desires and the ins and outs of exactly how to make her fall apart for him.

🔥 Jackson Rippner x Reader — Even the bad guys have to eat, right? And the local diner is where Jackson goes for a bite at least twice a week. Of course, the beautiful yet feisty waitress who always ends up being stuck serving him has nothing to do with his frequenting there, right? Fed up with Jackson’s sexist, arrogant attitude and asshole remarks, Y/N always tries to get him out of her diner as fast as possible, despite the fact that he’s the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on. This toxic back and forth comes to a head when Y/N finally pushes Jackson a little too far, and he has to teach her a lesson and show her just how much of a mistake it is to test him.

🎃 Tom Buckley x Reader — How can such an insanely hot man seem to have no personality and no interests in anything other than his work? That’s the question Y/N wonders on a daily basis about Tom Buckley, her professor’s TA and colleague. But when Dr. Matheson recruits Y/N to help with a new project due to her incredibly impressive performance in class, she and Tom are suddenly spending a lot of time together outside of class. Is there more to Tom than Y/N thought? Maybe there’s a personality behind those gorgeous blue eyes after all, and perhaps Tom’s prior behavior was simply how he’s kept himself in check, and not because he hasn’t noticed this star student.

🤍 Cillian Murphy x Reader — The theater has a different energy all its own, which is why Cillian is so passionate about it, always returning when the opportunity presents itself. With the latest invitation to perform as the lead actor in a new show filled with heavy drama and romance, the actor is surprised to learn that his female co-star is very fresh, not expecting a new actress to be able to take on such weight. But besides being unbelievably impressed with her sophistication and acting abilities, Cillian also can’t stop wishing that every romantic scene between them was happening in real life. But since Y/N has followed and admired Cillian for years as she made her own way in the acting world, the fondness is definitely mutual. Not to mention the fact that she nearly melts every time he touches her. Upon the wrap of closing night, will restraint and professionalism finally give way to desire and passion?

🔥 Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader — Tommy always calls the shots; it’s the only way he knows how to operate, and that includes in the bedroom. But outside the bedroom, Y/N needs to remember that Tommy still controls her. After several busy weeks with no sex between them due to crazy schedules and commitments, Tommy decides that tonight, the foreplay is going to begin before they even make it back home. Due to her recent slip in attitude and getting sassy with Tommy, Y/N is going to quickly be reminded that she’s completely at Tommy’s mercy (or lack thereof), and he has an intimate little gift for her to remind her of just that fact.

🎃 Jonathan Crane x Reader — If there’s anything Dr. Jonathan Crane despises, it’s a whiny patient. Yes, we all have problems, trauma, and fears, but rather than complain, he believes the best treatment is addressing those fears and facing them head on. So when he has yet another draining session with Y/N, his beautiful yet whiny therapy patient, he decides that the best way to finally make progress and address her fear of pregnancy and childbirth is to do some very personal exposure therapy.

🤍 Tommy Shelby x Reader — Lingerie mood boards and Tommy head canon on exactly what seeing you in lingerie does to him, and how he responds.

🔥 Jonathan Crane x Reader — Drs. Jonathan Crane and Y/F/N Y/L/N have been colleagues for over a year now, and it’s very much a love/hate relationship. Although title-wise, they’re equals, Jonathan seems to always think he’s in charge, and he enjoys bossing Y/N around. Fed up with his attitude during their latest collaboration, Y/N decides to teach Jonathan a lesson. When he instructs her to see how patients react to a new drug, she slips it to him instead, and a shift in control occurs that Jonathan was not expecting.

🎃 Modern Tommy Shelby — It’s a particularly busy time at work for Tommy lately, and much to both he and Y/N’s dislike, he hasn’t been home much, let alone had time for any intimacy. Seeing as they typically never go more than a day without sex, Y/N is feeling very deprived for her man. When he yet again isn’t home when he promises he would be, Y/N decides that a little distraction for Tommy is needed. But she’s thrown for a loop when Tommy’s attention doesn’t stray from his work and his tolerance for cockwarming lasts much longer than she anticipated. What is she gonna do now?

🤍 Modern Tommy Shelby — If Tommy could have you walking around topless 24/7 for him, he would. Of course, he adores ALL of you, but your breasts are a distracting favorite of his. When you meet him at a fancy event being held for some of his work colleagues, he’s thrown to see you wearing a dress that shows more of your chest than he wants any other man to see. How dare you put on display his two favorite features of yours that are meant to be for his eyes only?

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @betty21rose @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @fairytale07 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

@runnning-outof-time @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a @natalie--rushman @wild-rose-35

@judig92 @cillmurphyslover @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on

@ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog

@garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @emotionalcadaver @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings

@darklydeliciousdesires @mamawiggers1980 @honeymoon8 @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

@cardan-official @fmo166 @vastcapacity @mspookington-blog @teawonderfultea-blog1

@shopgirl6us @fkmarrycill @mrs-bond @sl-newsie @lyarr24

@cillianbabe @vervainandspritz @pkmonka @myers-meadow

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #jonathan crane #jackson rippner #tom buckley #modern tommy shelby

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your-nanas-house · 1 year ago

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erm methinks the reader snaps and k words someone and jonathan finds it hot and just nasty smut after the fact like these ppl are freaks!

Love it, baby!!! 💓

Not so innocent after all

◇ Pairing: Psychiatrist!Jonathan Crane x patient fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, dry humping, Jonathan being a sick perv, bad writing, DUB-CON, him rubbing Y/n's clit, murder, asylum, bad guards, innocent reader

◇ Summary: Jonathan's favorite patient acts out and he finds it quite arousing.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Jonathan was busy in his office, focused on some papers he had to fill out about his patients when fast and violent knocks were heard from his door, which flew open before hitting the wall behind it creating even more noise.

"Dr. Crane, a patient of yours is misbehaving" a guard quickly informed him, a bit allarmed, thing that Jonathan didn't understand at all since this things happened normally in the asylum— that's why his focus remained on the sheets, his voice calm and not really interested

"Really now?" He asked, looking at the guard just when he shared the number of the patient.

It sounded pretty weird for him, since the patient associated with that number was a young woman that he started to work with nearly 2 years ago and who was one of the most calm and quiet inmates that he ever met.

Jonathan put the notebook down, thinking on alll the possibilities that could have made his favourite patient act up.

It hadn't happened not even once in all the years she'd been locked up there.

"Where is she?" Joanthan asked the guards sounding slight concern

"They are in the cafeteria" one of the guards quickly replied, accepting to escort him there together with his colleague.

As soon as they arrived they quickly rushed inside to help the other guards to try to stop her from attacking the almost death inmate on the floor— but when Jonathan indicated them to move away with his hands they all made some space for him so that he could intervene.

Crane hurried after taking mental notes of her behaviour.

His voice was calm as he spoke and approached his patient

"Hey, hey, hey....Y/n" he whispered, grabbing in a quick motion the patient’s arms, pulling them away from the inmate with ease, blocking them behind her back.

She was panting heavily, her body kept trying to squirm away from the grip as if she was a caged animal— Jonathan kept her there though, flat against the cold floor as he whispered thing in a calming way, till she started to relax.

Her whole body got still, her breath became slower when Jonathan's hand moved to her hair to stroke it softly, his hips pressing flat against her ass providing little friction to his painful boner which he weirdly got as soon as he saw her kill that man.

"Sshh, that's a good girl" Jonathan whispered, letting her slowly go when he noticed that she was fully calm

"I bring you to you room, come" he helped her up and started to walk out with the guards, followed by Y/n who was walking cutely, her head low as her hand grabbed Jonathan's.

As soon as they reached the cell, Dr. Crane made sure that they would have been alone, no guards, no inmates or anyone else— just him and her.

This way he could let out the urges he was keeping inside without any problems.

His icy stare remained on Y/n as he waved elegantly his hand towards the three guards that escorted them, looking at them briefly just to be able to manipulate and convince them that nothing was wrong and he could be trusted alone with Y/n, he wouldn't be in any danger— after all he knew better than anyone else his own patients.

It didn't took much to make the guards leave, but Jonathan waited a couple of minutes to make sure that they were really alone, before entering the cell and closing carefully the iron door behind him.

Y/n was giving him her back, since she was trying to go back to her comfort zone— thing that became quite difficult as soon as she felt the manly hand of her psychiatrist cover her mouth, his slender fingers pressing painfully against the soft skin of her cheeks.

Her body completely froze in shock and worry, she didn't dare to fight or say anything since all the bells that should have rang in her head to alert her of danger weren't working since she started to take the meds that Jonathan prescribed her.

Deep down Y/n knew that it was wrong, even if it felt nice— even if the smoothing and low voice of Dr. Crane kept whispering in her ear that everything was alright, that she was safe with him and that she could relax— she really could relax since it felt so good.

His pale slender fingers rubbing against her clothed clint like she imagined many times before, in the dark of her cell as she dry humped her own pillow like the naughty and needy girl that she was— she could also feel his now bare cock rubbing against her from behind.

Y/n, now laying down on her bed, was resting her head on her arms as Jonathan lowered in a quick motion her Arkham asylum uniform pants, to reveal her innocent white panties to him.

His finger didn't stopped rubbing against her tiny nerve, not even when he pulled slightly up her underwear to show more of her round firm ass so that he could now rest his leaking and rock hard cock between her cheeks— humping her like an animal in heat.

"Such a good girl, darling" Dr. Crane praised, moving his hand inside her panties to check her wetness like the perv he was being, spreading it back up on her clit to rub tiny circles in a faster pace— his hips still moving fast as he tried to reach his own peak while he bit his bottom lip, hearing the small noises she was making under him.

It didn't take him much, a couple of thrusts and he was shooting his load, with a low moan and small praises, all over her back and ass, wetting her cute panties with his seed.

Fuck, he needed her to act out more often, he thought.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj, @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover, @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane oneshot #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane cillian murphy #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader

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amor-godess-of-love · 8 days ago

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Ok so weird headcanon I have is that Jonathan Crane loves hot showers and baths.

I just feel his great granny Keeny wouldn't allow him to take hot showers in name of "saving water" and at his local school also the showers only ran cold water, so when he finally move away to college and was allowed to take hot showers, they become his favourite thing, easy way to get rid of stress, help with his aching muscles and help him think.

That's why I think one of his ways of showing love would be preparing hot baths for his partner. Or maybe taking hot showers together.

And when he becomes Scarecrow? Well they became luxury. I don't suspect Arkham of having hot water at all. Most his hideout are in abondom or run down buildings, so when he finally has a decent apartment as hideout just belive he using all the warm water when he get's there.

Other rogues noticed this (Specially Jervis and Edward) so since they have hideouts that usually are on nicer side then his, they let him use all of hot water when he visits.

Also he gets happy if he is gifted a bath bombs specially if they pumpkin scented. So it's a go to gift along with books and Halloween decorations.

#dc #dc au #jonathan crane #scarecrow #scarecrow dc #headcanon

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paradiseprincesss · 8 months ago

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espresso | jonathan crane

this was my first fic ever...bare with me lol.

summary: a meet cute that turns into domestic life with our beloved dr. crane.

warnings: swearing, slight implied age gap (reader is in her early 20's, jonathan is late 20's), fluff

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

as the rain continued to pour down from the sky onto the city of gotham, you sat in the bedroom of your apartment in your favourite pyjamas, phone in hand as you gushed to your friend about the encounter you had today.

"i swear, it was some meet cute situation straight out of a romance movie," you say over the phone, giggling, "holy shit, he was so cute though, but yeah - that's how he asked me out."

you were telling your friend about how earlier in the day, you so happened to bump into a very handsome stranger at your favourite coffee shop - well, technically, he bumped into you. as you were turning around to walk out of the coffee shop, iced coffee in hand, you suddenly gasped at the feeling of hot coffee spilling on your sundress.

"jesus, im sorry-" you heard a flustered voice say, and you quickly look up to find a handsome, tall, dark haired stranger, with eyes so blue you could still get lost in them through the glasses he was wearing. he was reaching over to grab napkins off the counter, and awkwardly tried to pat the coffee off your dress.

you laughed softly, and shook your head while taking the napkins from his grasp and tried to get the remnants of coffee off yourself, "mistakes happen," you softly assure the stranger while doing so.

after a few moments of fumbling around with napkins together, you tossed them aside into the trash, and he spoke to you again.

"i apologize, i've had quite the morning, and i was not looking where i was going, are you alright?" he asks, and you lock eyes again. god, he was actually gorgeous.

"i'm alright, it's okay," you assured him once more, "i get it, we all have days like that." you say softly, with a little smile, noticing his suit and tie.

he looks at you quietly for a moment, seemingly taking you in, before gently speaking again, "i'm sorry, i'm not usually this brash or forward by any means, but are you seeing anyone?"

you stare at him with surprise for a moment, before responding to him with a slight blush dusting your cheeks, "...no uh, i'm not, why? tryna ask me out on a date or something?" you quipped, suddenly feeling a little bold.

"i am, yeah. how about you give me your number and i'll take you out to dinner sometime this week?" he casually asks you, and you stared at him surprised again - this handsome stranger (who, by the way, just spilled coffee on you?!), was asking you out on a date...how could you say no?

"oh, um, yes, okay. yeah." you say, slightly flustered, as he pulls his phone out and gives it to you so that you could add in your contact information. after you gave him your number, you smiled softly at him as he spoke to you again.

"i'll text you, sound good?" he asks, casually again, which makes your heart leap for some reason, and all you could do was nod, as you made your way out of the coffee shop with your iced coffee.

and that's how you ended up on the phone with your friend gushing about the event that unfolded earlier on in your day.

"maybe he's the one." your friend teased, with a giggle.

"could you imagine?" you say back, laughing.

"and it was the worst hangover of my life." you joked, a glass of your favourite wine in hand as you looked at the man across the fancy restaurant table from you.

"i haven't been hungover since college." he laughed along with you, looking at you with a smile.

you we're on a date with the man who had spilled his coffee onto you, who you learned was jonathan crane; the chief psychiatrist at arkham asylum. you told him your name, and what you were currently majoring in. with the car he picked you up in and with the restaurant he took you to for the first date, you were already falling, quickly too. clearly, he had a taste for the finer things in life.

after a few more drinks, and good food, the two of you continued on talking as if you had known each other forever. then, the two of you headed out, and he drove you back home to your apartment. as he pulled up to your apartment complex, he parked his car and insisted that he walk you up to the front doors of the building. what a gentleman, you thought.

as you got to the front of the complex building, you turned around to thank him, and he smiled softly at you.

"yeah, of course,” he says with a pause and then he sighs, “god, you’re so beautiful.” he whispers softly, taking his hand, tracing your jawline and cupping your face softly, and before you knew it - you were leaning into his touch, and you felt his lips on yours.

"i can't stop thinking about you, i miss you." he sighs to you, over the phone.

jonathan was stuck working late again at arkham asylum, and yet he still he still made time to call you, just to hear your voice once more. the two of you had been dating for a few months now, and you'd never been with someone before who treated you with such love and adoration.

you stared at the vase of red roses on your table, which he brought to you weekly because he 'knows they're your favourite', as he always said, and you smiled to yourself softly.

"i miss you more." you said dreamily over the phone.

there was silence on his end for a moment, before he eventually sighed and spoke again, "you don't have class tomorrow, right?"

you smile to yourself again, knowing he usually followed this up by asking to see you or something along those lines, "...no."

"can i see you?"

your heart leaped at those four words you loved to hear, "yeah, of course. come over?"

again, he was silent for a moment - almost as if he was lost in thought. you didn't blame him, working late at an asylum was tiring. after a few moments, he still didn't say anything, and you spoke into your phone again, softly, "jon?"

"you should move in with me. i dunno, just a thought..." he trails off, suddenly speaking up again.

you felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of actually living with him, moving in. "...why not?" you say, with a breathless laugh.

"let's discuss tomorrow, i'll drive to yours around noon, but i have to get back to work," he sighed, "i love you."

i love you, you could never get tired of hearing those words come out of his mouth, "okay, i love you too, jon. see you tomorrow."

and with that, you hung up - giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. jonathan was whipped for you; he was wrapped around your finger, and you loved it. you knew he was thinking of you and you only every night, every day, 24/7 really.

jonathan wrapped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you cooked dinner in the kitchen.

"missed you at work today." he softly says, placing a soft kiss behind your ear, and a few more down your neck, making you giggle.

"my mind kept wandering to you during class today," you confess, feeling his arms stay put around you, "dinner should be ready in around 15 minutes."

"theres fresh roses on the table for you, darling. got them on my way home from work for you, appreciate you making dinner, you didn't have to." he tells you, kissing your cheek before unwrapping his arms from you, as he made his way out of the kitchen.

feeling content and loved, you sigh happily to yourself, finishing up your cooking. after dinner, the two of you sat cuddled up on the couch together, watching some show on netflix you were currently binging. as you stayed there, snuggled up in his arms, you felt him take a gentle hold of your hand, and his thumb brushed over the diamond ring on your finger.

oh right - the diamond engagement ring that he had proposed to you with just after your two-year anniversary. he had put in so much effort, taking you away for a weekend vacation, where he surprised you with a hotel room littered with rose petals and candles. he told you how much he loved you; how he just adored you and couldn't see himself living a life without you in it.

he gave you his heart, and you gave him yours. he knew after you found out about him being scarecrow, and you were actually okay with it, that he was going to make you mrs. crane.

it's funny, really, you didn't mean to find out, but jonathan was working suspiciously late for the last couple weeks, and your mind automatically went to the worst; an affair.

however, after doing some snooping around (you pulled a joe goldberg, obviously, and started following him around when he said he was at "work"), only to find out that he was in fact not having an affair, but just fear gassing people around gotham in what appeared to be a burlap scarecrow mask of some sort. phew!

a part of you knew that this was indeed fucked up, but i mean hey, he wasn't cheating, and he treated you so good, we all look past certain things for the people we love, right?

when he came home one night around 3 am, he found you waiting in the living room of your shared apartment, arms crossed and a pout on your pretty face.

"you scared me! i thought you were cheating on me. next time just tell me if your...doing whatever your doing with that toxin stuff you create at work." you exclaimed at him, looking cute as ever while doing so.

he was silent for a moment - shocked, actually. he didn't know what shocked him more, the fact that you thought he would ever betray you like that with another woman or that you didn't care about his secondary...job.

"...darling, i can't tell if your being satire or not." he says cautiously, taking a few steps closer to you on the couch.

"i'm really not." you roll your eyes, and huff.

jonathan was silent again, before laughing softly and shaking his head, coming over to wrap his arms around you, his voice low and gentle.

"i love you but-"

"i followed you." you say quickly, knowing that he was going to say something along the lines of 'but how did you find out?'

he gives you loving look, and smiles softly at you. he says nothing and instead, just pulls you into a deep kiss, in which you happily return.

"you're crazy, you know that?" he whispers against your lips, and you give him a look.

"and you're not?" you quip, and he's suddenly dragging you to your shared bedroom, hands all over your body.

"shhh." he whispers, peppering kisses all over your neck as he pushes you back on the bed.

looking at your husband with a doting expression, you sigh contently, iced coffee in hand. the both of you had the day off, and you both decided to start the day with a cute morning coffee date.

as he puts his cup of black coffee down, he takes your hand in his, and smiles softly at you.

"we should go on vacation again soon, i need a fucking break from work." he says, and you knew work had been exhausting him recently - no, not his actual job, he was talking about his other job, you know the one where he goes around terrorizing gotham.

"d'wanna go to mexico?" you ask, suggesting your favourite vacation spot, and he nods, holding your hands tighter.

"wherever you want to go, we'll go." he says gently, thumb brushing over your ring.

as you were about to say something back to him, his arm almost knocked his cup of coffee over.

"watch your arm - don't want espresso all over me again." you tease, smiling softly at your husband.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #dr jonathan crane #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x f!reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #Spotify

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

Text

You Set My Soul Alight | Jonathan Crane

Pairing -> sub!jonathan crane x villain!reader

Summary -> You and Jonathan Crane have always been at odds. He's an arrogant asshole and you're a sarcastic shit, and no matter what you always find a way to bump heads. The worst part about it is that deep down you find him brilliant and attractive and utterly intoxicating. One day, Crane comes to you with a plea to enticing to resist, and you find this the perfect opportunity to put him in his place.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), enemies with feelings, sub!Jon acting like a brat, swearing, dom!reader, degradation kink, ma'am kink, unprotected sex, edging, hair pulling, ball slapping, slapping in general, if you squint real hard Jonathan's lowkey a little sexist, bruce wayne is a playboy, reader's kinda a simp

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: The Dark Knight trilogy/DC characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Jonathan Crane glared at you, his piercing blue eyes filled with a layer of contempt and almost embarrassment like he was regretting this entire endeavor. It was delightful, seeing him in this state, and you made sure to enjoy every second of it — the way his cheeks were tinting a light pink, his muscles tensed up and his tone coming out a desperate yet still arrogant plea. Moments like these were rare, and you were ready to savor and drag them out every chance you got.

“I need your help,” he repeated, his tone distasteful like he was swallowing a bitter pill. “I told you, I need more money for my experiments, but I can’t do it without any funding. Wayne Enterprises is hosting a gala next week. All the richest of the city will be there and all of them are looking to donate. Charity, science, whatever will make them look good. I know you’re going, so I’m asking — as polite as I can be — please, get me an invite.”

You tilted your head to the side, eyes trailing off to look at some random painting on the wall. You briefly wondered how he got past your home security, but after a few seconds, you focused your attention back on him. “Sorry, what did you say? Can you repeat that?” you said with a slight grin.

Jonathan pursed his lips. “Don’t be clever with me.” But then he shakes his head and lets his serious facade go. “We both know you have the connections to score another invite . . . Please, my darling.”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, the way it always did when he called you that. You wondered if he knew just how much you enjoyed it.

“I like it when you beg, it’s always been a good look on you.”

Jonathan smiles. A mock smile.

“Well, it’s true. No point in getting all upset.” You shrug, heading over to your kitchen to get some iced coffee for the both of you. “Tell me, why should I help you? Why should I help the man who has made it his mission to offend me every time we speak?”

You may have been a little unfair in saying that. Sure, he was a brat, but so were you. In fact, ever since you two met you had always been at each other’s throats, demeaning one another, insulting everything from intellect to personality to looks. You doubt your paths would have ever crossed had it not been for your good friend Harley, who introduced you both one fateful summer evening.

You don’t know what went wrong that day. Maybe it was the weather, the exceptionally hot wind that only frequented Gotham once every couple of years, the ones that made the city cranky and sweaty, or perhaps it was simply a bad first impression, the ones that just happened every once in a while. It had happened far too long ago to remember what it was that made you dislike Jonathan so much in the first place, and you were sure it didn’t matter. According to everyone who knew him, he had always been an ass, but he was good company once you got to know him.

Maybe he was. You wanted to figure that out, to peel away the layers of armor. You could be friends, lovers even. He could be yours. Yours to do whatever you wanted with. Yours to put in place, because god knows he needed it.

You weren’t sure when you started to think like this. To grow an obsession, but you did, and you couldn’t stop your feelings now. You didn’t want to stop. Loving Jonathan was too addictive, no matter how much he pretended to hate you — because you knew he didn’t actually hate you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stop in once every while, under the pretense of snarky put-downs or brags. He wouldn’t graze his fingers with yours when walking by, and he wouldn’t ask your friends (namely Harley) what you did, what you liked, and what you talked about.

“Because deep down,” Jonathan answered, following you into the kitchen, “you know I’m brilliant, and you know I deserve your help.” He accepted the coffee, taking a small sip before continuing, “But you’re too prideful to admit it.”

“Maybe I am, but that’s not a good reason. Deserve isn’t enough, Crane. At least not for me. I know you can do better than this, convince me. That mouth must be good for something.”

Jonathan paused, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lower lip, making it glisten in the light of the lamp. You weren’t sure if the brief silence was because he got flustered, or he was just thinking. “Then do it because you want to,” he finally said. “Because you know my research is important and you care for it, enough to do me this one simple favor.”

“I don’t know . . .” you trailed off in a teasing tone.

It seemed like Jonathan was getting annoyed again. “My dear, won’t you help me?”

“I’m still thinking.”

He groaned. “Pretty please?”

You let out a little sigh, barely audible. “I will. For you.”

That last part had intended to come off as flirtatious and pretentious, but instead, it was soft and delicate, so vulnerable it took you off guard.

“Thank you,” he said, setting his glass down. He had finished all of the coffee, quickly enough so that there were still ice cubes lying on the bottom of the glass. “I’ll pick you up, around four. Who knows, maybe we’ll even have some fun.”

And that was it. He left through your front door without saying anything else, leaving you with thoughts of the gala and what dress you were going to wear.

That next week you had settled on one and bought yourself a burgundy dress, a beautiful shade of red, one like expensive wine or fresh blood, a color that you knew looked good on you. It was a deep cut that went through the valley of your breasts, but if you pressed your arms inwards just slightly, which you fully intended to do, they would push up. It was a look classy enough for a gala, but still seductive enough to garner attention.

Originally, you weren’t going to attend the function at all. This kind of stuff had always been boring for you, even as a child who was forced to go, but if Jonathan was going on your behalf then you sorta had to and definitely wanted to.

A ring sounded through your house. He was here.

You opened the door and took a deep breath once you saw Jonathan. He was dressed in a neat suit, but not like the suit he was wearing when you last saw him. This one was charcoal black, silky, and smooth, with a white handkerchief in his outer breast pocket. His shoes were the same color and looked like they had just been shined, and in his hand was a bouquet of red roses.

“For you,” he said, placing them in your hands. His eyes swept over your figure, and his mouth parted for a moment. “It matches.” You huffed, secretly flattered. “But it’s such a shame.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.”

You blinked, and then tossed the flowers to the side, letting them fall into a patch of dirt (you were definitely going to pick them up later). “Like you’re such a piece of work.”

“I am,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Men and women love me.”

Despite how attractive you found him, you really didn’t believe that. You were sure his attitude warded most people off, and besides, he was an introvert and a criminal. Dating wasn’t just something people like him did often.

“We’ll see. This gala will be filled with attractive young bachelors. Get one interested in you and I’ll admit you're handsome,” you challenged.

“Admit?” He laughed, a beautiful laugh. “Admit implies that you already find me handsome, you just don’t want to confess so.”

This man needed to be slapped. He needed to be given a good, hard hit across the face.

“You know what? I feel like being alone tonight. I think I’ll just go to the gala without you.”

You were about to close the door, intending to head to your garage, but Jonathan grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside, shutting the door behind you.

“No takebacks. You promised. Where’s your honor?”

“Honor?” You scoffed. “I’m a killer, what did you expect?”

Jonathan must have really thought that you were going to leave because he gripped your wrist tighter. “I’m sorry,” he quickly said. “I’ll be good tonight.” He placed his index finger to his thumb with his free hand and made a zipping motion across his lips. “See?”

“You better be. I’m doing you a favor here. Now, come inside, we’ll take my car—”

“I have a car,” Jonathan said. “I even got us a driver.”

You took a peek over his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a fancy car waiting in the driveway, engine still on. It was difficult to see through the windows but you could make out the faint outline of a man in the driver’s seat.

“If you insist.”

He held out his arm for you to take, and while you did want to, you instead shoved it away. For a moment, you swore a flicker of hurt crossed his face, but it was gone too fast for you to be sure it was even there at all.

“Where’s my invite?” he asked.

“You don’t have one. You’re going as my plus one.”

“As your date?”

“It’s not a date. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy. What’s with all this complaining?”

“I’m not complaining, I was expressing my feelings. You should work on that. As a psychiatrist, I recommend—”

“—I recommend you shut the fuck up.”

Jonathan put his hands up, surrendering, but he did so beaming.

It hadn’t taken too long to get to the party. Traffic was high as always, but time seemed to be flowing faster than ever, despite you and Jonathan staying silent.

When you arrived there was a line of cars. Wayne Manor, a building you had only been to twice before, was still as impressive as you remember. It was a collection of elegant architecture and stonework, with a large wooden entrance that opened up to a main hall. The size of the driveway and front lawn was a bit unnecessary, at least to you, but what else could you expect from old money?

After getting out of the car you were greeted by cameras and reporters, lights flashing in your eyes, but you didn’t bother with them.

Jonathan reached out his hand, and this time you did take it — but only because everyone was watching, and if you pushed him away it would have caused an unnecessary scene. Jonathan’s driver drove the car away for parking and you both walked inside.

The inside was spacious, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and people dressed classy, with gloves and diamond earrings, all mingling and chatting with each other about the stock market or their annoying ex-spouse or how it was such a bother when their vacation to Switzerland had to be canceled because of work. There was a tray of snacks and waiters walking around with luxurious drinks, something you immediately took advantage of.

“Thank you, sir,” you said politely, taking a glass of champagne, but before you could take a sip someone called out your name.

You turned around to see Bruce Wayne himself waving over to you, a boyish charm about him. He had two women on his arms, models or prostitutes, or both, you couldn’t tell, but they were drop-dead gorgeous.

Your parents did business with him, and as a result, you met him at a young age. You were never really buddy best friends, but you went to the same school and that was enough for him to invite you to all his parties and greet you as though you were a family friend.

“You know Bruce Wayne?” Jonathan whispered, but before you could answer Bruce approached you both.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while,” he said. “This is Mila and Stephanie. Say hi ladies.” They giggled and waved as he gave the back of your hand a little kiss. “Gorgeous girl. You should wear these outfits more often, you truly look stunning.”

You let him put his arm around your waist, enjoying the compliment.

“Oh, no,” you said modestly. “It’s just a dress.”

Jonathan chuckles. “Ah, don’t be like that, my darling. You look exquisite.”

You all but glared at him. Now he said you looked nice.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Bruce removed his arm from around your waist and held it out to shake Jonathan’s hand.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane,” he responded, a little tense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Jonathan’s actually doing some research into brain chemistry,” you said.

“Really? Tell me about it, Dr. Crane,” Bruce said, flashing a charming smile.

“I would,” Jonathan responded, turning to you, “but I don’t wanna bore my girl.”

“Your girl?” Bruce repeated, eyes glancing at you. “ You’re a lucky guy. Tell me how scored such a beauty like her?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” Jonathan reached around and put his hand on your shoulder. “She was practically falling all over me.”

That was true, but your jaw still clenched. “He likes to exaggerate,” you told Bruce with a little laugh.

“Well, if you ever want to change things up a little, I’m right here.” Bruce winked comically, leaving with his girls.

You could tell Bruce wasn’t joking. It sounded like a serious offer, only told in a joking format so as to not rile Jonathan up, as he was under the impression Jonathan was your actual boyfriend.

“You’re a jealous mongrel,” you told Jonathan once Bruce was out of sight. You both walked over to a more secluded corner. “Can’t imagine the idea of having to share, huh? Had to go and make up stories?”

Jonathan scowled. “He was shameless around you. Be grateful I warded him off,” he said arrogantly. “And it’s not like you guys would have worked out. With what your hobby and all.”

You didn’t say anything. Jonathan was jealous, huh? You know felt a sudden urge to go after Bruce, get a little drunk, and follow him back to his room. It’s not like he wasn’t handsome, he was the most eligible bachelor in the city. And you did like him. He was funny and nice. Plus, you two had known each other for a long while. What a fun trope, especially if it was making Jonathan mad.

“A good fuck needs to work out only for the night.” You shrugged.

“You—you can’t,” Jonathan sputtered out. “You’re here with me, not him.”

“I don’t see the problem. I got you in the door and now you don’t need me anymore. What’s wrong if I have some fun?”

“You can’t.”

You waved him off, though you were enjoying the way he was pouting.

“Brat,” you muttered under your breath.

“I’m not a brat.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Excuse me for wanting to spend the night with you.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?” You grinned devilishly. “Act like you want nothing more than to be here.”

Jonathan’s breathing hitched. Yours did too.

“You want it?”

“Don’t be scared.”

After you said that he didn’t hesitate to lean forward to give you a hard kiss, bringing his hand around the back of your head to push you both even closer together. He pulled away, his face still close to yours.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, like that,” you breathed out.

“I can give you more,” he whispered in your ear, his breath almost ticklish. “I know you want it. Been fantasizing about me all this time, hmm?”

You smiled coyly.

“For me to bend you over like the whore you are—”

“—Careful, Crane. I might just have to slap you.”

“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you. Fucking say it—”

You took a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was looking, which they thankfully weren’t, and then gave Jonathan a quick, harsh slap to the face.

The force of it made his neck turn, and his cheeks immediately turned red. He stayed silent for a moment, looking up at you through thick eyelashes, eyes narrowed in lust. It was all the conformation you needed to grab his chin, lift his face up, and give him another slap.

Before you could say anything else he pressed his lips up against you again, pressing you up against the wall passionately.

You backed away, and he furrowed his eyebrows, but all you did was grab his hand, feeling a frenzy of desire take over you. “Let’s go.”

You dragged him through the sea of people and out a backdoor. There were a couple of people walking around in the garden, but you managed to find a place secluded enough for you and Jonathan. The ground was grassy and soft, and no one was walking by. Even if they did, they’d have to be purposefully looking for you two to see you both behind the trees and flowers.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

He grinned but did as you asked. “Here? Outside? You’re such a naughty girl.”

“Do you wanna wait until we get home?”

“No,” he said, a little too eagerly. “I want it now.” He sat up and tugged on your dress, running his hand up your leg. “You’re so soft,” he murmured, planting a few wet kisses on your thigh.

You sighed contently, enjoying the affection he was giving you. This moment felt like a haze, like the world was just slipping by and you were stuck in time, a feeling that made you wonder if this was a dream or not. The evening sunset and dark sky weren’t helping either. It all felt perfect, too perfect.

“Mmm.” Jonathan reached up and hooked his fingers into your underwear. You snapped out of your trance and swatted his hand away.

“Getting a little touchy there, aren’t you?”

He smirked, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. “Just tryna please you, darling.”

You thought for a moment, then decided that you would let him eat you out.

“Alright then. Please me, Dr. Crane.”

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the name, savoring the way it rolled so delicately off your tongue. He lifted up your dress and pulled down your panties. You kicked them off to the side and rested your dominant leg on his shoulder.

He pushed his finger against your folds, making a humming sound. “You’re so wet, darling.”

He leaned forward to suck on your clit roughly.

You lightly gasped at the pleasant sensation, bucking your hips into his face accidentally. You had meant to show more control, but how could you when Jonathan was so hungrily lapping? burying his face into your pussy like he was starved, passionately alternating between licking and sucking.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

His fingers, which had been gripping your hips, moved upward. As he continued to press his tongue against your clit his finger gently prodded your entrance, making sure that you were ready. He pushed his finger, curling it slightly.

You stifled your moans, not wanting a passerby to catch you two in the act, but you were finding it difficult. He kept thrusting his finger in and out of you, adding another one just a minute later.

You threw your head back, eyes shut. You held his head for balance and relaxed, letting yourself go into a peaceful bliss. But then you felt Jonathan’s teeth nip your bud, biting into it deliberately, and you yelped.

Gripping his hair, you forced him to look at you. His mouth and nose were covered in your wetness, and his lips were curving up into a delightful smile.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Mmm, I couldn’t help it, Ma’am.”

Instead of reprimanding him, you took the selfish route and pushed his face in between your legs, grinding onto his lips until you felt that familiar sense of elated happiness. You came all over him, your brain shutting off, or rather, getting overloaded at that euphoric, all-consuming release.

You let go of Jonathan’s hair, but he didn’t pull away. He licked up your cum, making your nerves feel overstimulated, but after he was satisfied, he stopped.

“You like that?” he asked.

“F-fuck, yeah.”

You grabbed your panties and put them back on, much to Jonathan’s dismay.

“Where are you going?” He got up, using his sleeve to wipe off the remaining juices on his face. You could see a tent, his cock poking out from under his pants.

“Home, of course. And you’re coming with me.”

He shook his head vehemently, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his hard cock against your body. “Let’s finish this here. I can’t wait any longer. Don’t make me wait.”

“If you’re a good boy, you’ll wait.”

“I can’t,” he bitched desperately, hurriedly pulling down his pants. “I won’t. I’ve waited too fucking long.”

You grabbed his cock through the fabric, squeezing it tight in his hands.

His face contorted to one of pleasure and pain. “Huh!”

“You think you can just get what you want? After you’ve such a dick? Oh, ‘she was practically falling all over me’. ‘Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.’”

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it! You looked so beautiful, I was just trying to make you mad. Be nice . . . Pleaseee?”

You gripped it tighter and he whimpered. “See how pathetic you get the moment I show an ounce of authority? How you start to beg? If I say something you do it. Do you understand?” He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted in pain. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes!” he choked out.

You let go. “Good boy. Now go call your driver and ask him to pick us up ‘round back. Unless you want everyone to see your erection?”

You gestured to the front of the manor, where through the bushes you could still see people enjoying the party.

“No, no.” He called his driver, trying his best to cover his erection by interlocking his hands in front of his waist. “You’re a cruel goddess.”

While you two waited for the driver, you peppered sweet kisses along Jonathan’s neck, but when he arrived, you stopped, making him groan at the loss.

Throughout the drive back to your place, you ghosted your fingers over Jonathan’s lap, occasionally resting your hand on his length. Once the driver dropped you both off, you wasted no time in pushing him to your room.

He took off his clothes as did you, his white cock springing up furiously. It was just the right size, bigger and longer than average, almost so that you worried about having to fit it inside you.

His figure was lanky, but still muscled, just the way you thought it would be. You placed your fingers on his chest, twisting his nipples. He shuddered and took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. You shoved him down on your bed and he immediately spread his legs, giving you perfect access.

“Want me to suck you off, Jon?”

“Yes!” he said impatiently. “Just do it.”

You spanked his balls with your hand, carefully watching the way they bounced ever so slightly.

“Nghh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do it whenever you feel like.”

Despite his words, you could see him waiting anxiously for you to touch him.

You did so, kissing the tip of his head and running your tongue through the slit, tasting the salty precum he was leaking. He hissed when you took his entire length. “Ah.”

You gripped your thumb so you wouldn’t gag and took him in all the way, hollowing out your cheeks. He thrusted up, deepthroating you for a hot second before he placed his hips firmly against the bed, not wanting to do anything that would upset you.

“So—so warm,” he stuttered out. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt, if your mouth is this fucking good.”

You would have said something, but your mouth was filled, busy bobbing up and down. He squirmed and moaned, shamelessly being as loud as he could. You could feel yourself getting wet again, but you controlled your urges for the sake of Jonathan.

He brushed your hair out of the way, scrunching up his face. “M’gonna — hnghhh — m’gonna come!”

That was when you pulled off of him.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, but when he did, he wasted no time in complaining.

“No,” he mewled, tearing up. “I’ve been such a good boy. Such a good boy.”

“Have you?” You giggled.

“I need you, I need this,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted you so bad — that’s why I came to you, that’s why I came to you and no one else. I didn’t even need the sponsors that bad, I just wanted to see you. I . . . I’m in agony,” he continued dramatically.

“That’s sad.”

More tears ran down his cheek at your nonchalant words. He sniffled. “Please, stop that and just make me come!”

“Okay. I think you deserve it.”

But instead of putting your mouth back on him, you sunk onto his cock, slowly at first, so your pussy could get used to the size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jonathan cursed, placing one of his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. His other hand went up to play with your breasts, cupping and kneading them like they were pieces of dough.

You started bouncing, a string of incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth. Jonathan sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing down your neck as you moved.

“You feel so good,” you murmured, clenching around his cock. “I s-should have done this sooner.”

“Should’ve,” Jonathan agreed. “But — ah — we can always do this more often, yeah?”

Too blissed out to respond with words, you just nodded your head, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

It didn’t take long for both of you to come after that. His hot load spurted inside of you and you came again, but this time on his cock.

He collapsed, exhausted from the sensations.

You slowly got up, letting out a little wince as you felt his length leave you. You cuddled up beside him, caressing his cheek, wrapping you both in the blanket. He looked a little tired, and you didn’t blame him. So were you.

“You set my soul alight,” he said softly. “You always have.”

You wanted to ask him how deep his feelings ran, if this was just sex, or if it was something more, but when he fell asleep on your breast, you dropped the idea. He trusted you enough to let his guard down around you, and for now, that was more than enough.

The rest of the night was spent holding each other in your arms as you slept. When you woke up in the morning, he was still there, snoring softly like he was a peaceful angel.

You pulled him closer to you. “I’m never letting you go,” you murmured darkly. “Never.”

#Jonathan Crane #Jonathan Crane x reader #Jonathan Crane x y/n #Jonathan Crane x you #the dark knight trilogy #fanfiction #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x y/n #scarecrow x you #cillian murphy #pinguwrites

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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 8

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 7

Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence.

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch.

“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.”

“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?”

“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.”

“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.”

“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still.

“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.”

“What will you do if the police show up?”

“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff.

“They won’t believe that.”

“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment.

“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head.

“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart.

“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.”

“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.”

“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown.

“Why not?”

“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over.

“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you.

“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her.

“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause.

“No change, sorry.”

“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…”

She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building.

“You sure this is it?”

“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk.

“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,”

“What number?” The man asked, bored.

“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care.

You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?

The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag.

Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe.

Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks.

The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case.

“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing.

“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it.

“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off.

“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?”

“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back.

“Keep it.”

“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.

“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped.

“Why?” His tone was guarded.

“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you.

“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you.

“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal.

“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body.

“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist.

“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back.

“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along.

“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button.

“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed.

“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk.

“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head.

“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs.

“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze.

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips.

“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth.

“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command.

“Put it on.”

“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints.

“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”

“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all.

“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide.

“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.

“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming.

“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.”

“Don’t want torture.” You muttered.

“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”

“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.

“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine.

“Please, I was so close.” You pouted.

“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped.

“Please!” You cried.

“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas.

“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.”

“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head.

“No, I- I need your cock- please!”

“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness.

“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants.

“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms.

“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in.

“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.

“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him.

“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop.

“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified.

“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered.

“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket.

“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried.

“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying.

“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead.

“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies.

“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you.

“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”

Part 9

(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 27 days ago

Text

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 6)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10,676

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, manipulation, violence, kidnapping

Summary: Jonathan's been working so hard lately, with his work as Scarecrow, as a professor, and Y/n's protector.

A/N: holy fucking shit, has it been a hot minute, but here we are! Did not mean for this to take ages but it's me, so what can you really expect, lol. Here it is, hope you enjoy :) 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist)

(Part 5) - (Part 7)

Y/n could see the strain Jonathan was under lately. Between his responsibilities at Arkham, his role as a professor, and the added weight of keeping her safe, the stress was etched into every line of his face. He worked tirelessly, his days blending into nights without rest. Despite his guarded demeanour, Y/n noticed the exhaustion in his eyes and the tension in his movements.

The knowledge made her ache to find a way to ease his burden, even if it was something small. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was carrying everything alone, bottling up his worries and pushing himself to the brink for her.

She had already baked him a batch of cookies, which he devoured immediately without much thought. To Jonathan, food was just fuel, even when loaded with chocolate and sugar. Y/n knew her gesture barely scratched the surface, the sweet distraction was a temporary relief at best. What she really wanted was to see him unwind, to take even a moment to breathe without the weight of his world bearing down on him. But there was only so much she could do.

Settling on the couch, she watched him across the room, his back hunched over his desk, his head down, completely absorbed in his work. She could see the movement of his arm as he scribbled, his notes likely filled with complicated chemical equations.

Chemistry was never Y/n’s strong suit, she was more of a biology girl herself, so looking at his notes meant nothing to her, so she couldn’t even help with that. Every now and then, he’d pause, lean back slightly, then dive right back into his notes.

Despite the shadows under his eyes, despite the furrow in his brow that spoke to his stress, Y/n couldn’t help but admire him. She found something endearing in the way he wore his lab coat, as if it were his armor. He insisted on keeping it on even here, in the quiet of their hideout. It clung to his frame, the stark white making him look both distinguished and a little odd.

It was moments like these, watching him so intensely focused and wholly himself, that reminded her why she cared for him so deeply.

Y/n stood up from her spot on the couch, moving quietly to the small dining table. She pulled a chair closer to Jonathan’s desk, positioning it beside his chair, facing him. Sitting down, she folded her leg up, resting her chin on her knee as she watched him in quiet admiration.

Jonathan gave her a brief glance, his eyes meeting hers for a split second over the rim of his glasses. "Yes, my dear?" he asked, his voice steady but softened with curiosity.

Y/n only smiled, her gaze steady. "Just watching," she replied simply.

He shook his head, before he returned to his work. "You’d be more entertained in front of the television," he said, pushing aside the page he’d just filled with scrawled notes and diagrams.

"I don’t think so.." Y/n said softly, her eyes lingering on him, tracing the determined set of his jaw, the way his hand moved with swift precision.

As she looked at him, she noticed a stray strand of hair that had fallen from his otherwise neat hair, sitting stubbornly over the edge of his glasses. She briefly considered suggesting a headband or hair clip but decided against it, knowing he'd likely scoff at the idea. Instead, she enjoyed the subtle imperfections, the hard look of concentration on his face that only seemed to amplify her attraction to him.

Sitting there, observing him up close, she felt a warmth, a mixture of admiration and something deeper. She could see the tension etched into his features, the weight of his responsibilities evident in the furrow of his brow. And yet, in his unrelenting focus, there was a certain charm, a captivating intensity she couldn't look away from.

Scooting her chair even closer, Y/n leaned into him, resting her chin gently on his shoulder. She felt his shoulder shift slightly under her, but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, she lifted her hand, letting her fingers trace softly along the back of his neck before she began running her nails gently through his hair at the nape.

A small, subtle shudder ran through him as her fingers traced delicate patterns on his scalp. His hand, steady moments before, faltered mid-scribble, leaving a faint, unintended mark on the page. She could sense his body caught between the usual tension he carried and a reluctant relaxation. The way his shoulders rose and fell, slightly stiff at first but slowly melting under her touch, told her he was trying to ignore how much he enjoyed her affection.

She continued, her fingers moving in slow, soothing circles, occasionally grazing the sensitive skin at his neck. She could feel his pulse quicken slightly beneath her touch. Smiling to herself, she knew he’d never admit how much he liked it, how much he needed this quiet, grounding moment.

After a beat, he let out a quiet sigh, barely a breath, but she caught it. She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, whispering, “Why don’t you take a break.”

Jonathan stayed silent, but the slight tilt of his head, letting her fingers linger in his hair, was all the answer she needed.

Y/n straightened up, her fingers curling around the pencil as she gently pried it from Jonathan’s hand, setting it aside on the table. Without breaking eye contact, she clasped his hands in hers, giving him a gentle tug. "Come on, Jonathan," she coaxed, urging him to stand.

“Y/n, can’t we just stay here?” he protested, voice tinged with both reluctance and a trace of amusement as he resisted her pull. He didn't make it easy for her, keeping himself firmly rooted to the chair.

She shot him a determined look. “You’re supposed to relax, Jonathan, away from your work!” she insisted, her voice light but firm.

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed with that familiar glint of challenge. “Since when did you start calling the shots?” His voice dropped, carrying a low, teasing authority that dared her to press further.

Before Y/n could respond, Jonathan surprised her by pulling her back down, guiding her onto his lap as he settled back into his chair. She felt her cheeks flush as she found herself perched atop him, her legs straddling his and her hands instinctively bracing on his shoulders for balance.

He leaned back, one arm curling around her waist while his other hand came to rest on her thigh, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “So, this is your idea of helping me relax?” he murmured, his gaze tracing her features, the playfulness in his eyes hinting at something deeper.

Y/n smiled, letting her hands rest on his shoulders as she matched his gaze. “If I have to hold you hostage on this chair to get you to unwind, I’m not above it,” she replied, her voice soft yet resolute. She let her fingers trail along his shoulders, pressing just enough to soothe the tension she knew was there.

Jonathan’s expression softened just a bit, his usual guarded nature slipping as he allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. The edges of his lips curved up almost imperceptibly. “Alright,” he conceded, his voice quiet and thoughtful, “I’ll allow it...for now.”

Y/n smiled softly, leaning in until her lips met his, brushing against him with a tender warmth. Jonathan didn’t hesitate, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss, his touch both assured and surprisingly gentle. His other hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tightening as he gave her a gentle squeeze, pulling her just a little closer.

She melted into him, feeling the tension in his shoulders finally begin to ease as he allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Their breaths mingled, and for just that instant, it was as though the worries and pressures that constantly weighed on him faded away, leaving only the quiet intensity of their connection.

As Y/n pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, she whispered, “You need to relax more often..” Her fingers traced along his jaw, grounding him as much as herself in the closeness they shared.

Jonathan let out a quiet sigh, his eyes meeting hers with a softened, appreciative gaze. "With you, I think I just might have to," he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over her thigh.

Jonathan’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Y/n’s pajama shorts, the tips brushing against her skin in a teasingly slow gesture. He tugged them down just slightly, his gaze locked on hers, reading her expression as if savoring every second. Y/n responded with a quiet, encouraging nod, lifting her hips to give him better access. She felt a shiver run through her as he took his time, sliding the fabric down her thighs with a mixture of care and intention.

With each inch he revealed, his touch seemed to grow more deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every curve and detail. Her breath caught in her throat as he trailed his hands down her legs, letting her shorts and underwear pool at her knees before pulling her closer to him to help slide them off.

Jonathan’s eyes traveled back up, lingering on her with a look that was both adoring and possessive. She felt his hand glide back up along her thigh, gentle but firm, as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent, sending a spark through her. Y/n could feel his warmth, his focus entirely on her, as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Jonathan’s long fingers drifted between her thighs, exploring with a slow, deliberate touch. His fingertips traced along her warmth, feeling the slickness gathering there as he gently circled her entrance, letting her arousal coat his fingers.

Y/n’s breath hitched at the touch, a shiver rippling up her spine as he teased her, drawing soft, unsteady gasps from her lips. Each sound seemed to spur him on, the tension between them building with every movement.

Listening to her quickening breaths, Jonathan slipped a finger inside her, his touch firm yet gentle. Y/n's head fell back, a moan escaping her as her body responded instinctively, arching into him.

His lips found her neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her skin, before he began to suckle, drawing a flush of warmth to the surface. She felt his hot breath against her pulse, his mouth exploring slowly as his finger moved within her, expertly building her pleasure with unhurried intensity.

Another finger joined the first, stretching and filling her, while his thumb brushed her clit in gentle, tantalizing circles. The combination sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, her body clinging to his touch as her gasps grew louder.

His lips traveled up to her ear, his voice a low, tantalizing murmur, “You’re absolutely intoxicating,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, his movements unrelenting yet tender, holding her in a rhythm that pulled her deeper into his embrace.

Jonathan slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving Y/n’s body with an aching emptiness that made her release a soft, involuntary sigh. Her chest rose and fell with need, her gaze heavy-lidded and fixed on him. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he took in her reaction, clearly savoring the effect he had on her.

"So impatient," he murmured, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

His eyes glinted with something darker as he deftly unfastened his trousers. His fingers moved with unhurried precision, peeling away the fabric as he held her gaze, every motion a promise of what was to come.

Y/n’s breath quickened as he positioned himself, his intense gaze holding hers captive. He took his time, savoring the anticipation that hung thick between them, letting her feel every second of the build-up. She could feel her heart pounding, each beat echoing in her ears as her body pulsed with anticipation. Jonathan's hand trailed up her thigh, steadying her, his touch both commanding and tender as he prepared to close the space between them, pulling her closer with a deep, simmering intent.

Jonathan released his member from his pants, his cock pressing hot and firm as he aligned himself at her entrance. His hands gripped her hips with a possessive hold as he held her steady, drawing her closer with each subtle shift. The heat between them intensified, a magnetic pull, as he hovered at her entrance, making her feel every inch of the anticipation.

He paused for a brief moment, eyes locked with hers, the air thick with tension. With a soft exhale, Jonathan leaned in, brushing his lips over her collarbone as he pushed in, allowing her to adjust, savoring the way her body responded to him. The closeness, the weight of him against her, filled every nerve in Y/n’s body with electricity, sending a delicious shiver up her spine as they connected fully, leaving no distance between them.

As Y/n lowered herself onto him, a contented hum escaped her lips, sending a shiver through Jonathan. His hands instinctively gripped her hips, fingers pressing into her skin as he steadied her, his breath hitching at the warmth enveloping him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time felt suspended in the quiet intensity of their gaze.

With her knees settled on either side of him, Y/n began to move, slowly at first, a gentle rhythm that built as she grew more comfortable, feeling his gaze follow every rise and fall. Her movements became more confident, her pace quickening, each shift causing a delicious friction that sent waves of heat through both of them. The sound of their shared breaths filled the room, mingling with soft gasps and murmurs, creating a symphony of intimacy and connection.

Jonathan’s hands slid up her waist, guiding her movements as his grip tightened in response to the pleasure sparking between them. He traced a line up her back, his fingers brushing over her skin, leaving a trail of warmth. Y/n tilted her head back, eyes closed as she lost herself in the sensations, feeling completely wrapped up in him, her own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms.

Each motion, each shared look and soft touch, brought them closer, a shared rhythm and unspoken language that spoke of desire, trust, and a deep, unbreakable connection between them.

As much as Jonathan relished the view of Y/n moving above him, his desire to take control grew overwhelming. With a sudden, determined motion, he gripped her waist firmly, hoisting her up and setting her down on the edge of his workbench. Y/n let out a surprised squeal, her hands instinctively bracing against the table’s cool surface as her legs wrapped around him to steady herself.

Never pulling out, Jonathan pressed closer, eyes dark with intent as he leaned forward, his lips hovering near her ear. "Can’t have you calling all the shots now, can I?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky growl.

Without missing a beat, he drove into her, the intensity of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through her. Her back arched against the hard surface, fingers gripping the edge of the workbench as she let out a breathy moan, her body meeting his movements with fervor. Each thrust was more commanding than the last, a testament to his need to seize control, to make her feel everything he wanted her to.

Jonathan’s hands traveled up her sides, possessive yet tender, anchoring her as he set a steady, relentless rhythm that echoed the pounding of their hearts. With each stroke, he was drawing her deeper into his world, ensuring that in this moment, she was entirely his, until she could think of nothing else but the feeling of him.

Jonathan's pace grew steadily more insistent, his breaths mingling with hers as the intensity of their movements built between them. His hands slid from her sides up to her back, pulling her flush against him, eliminating any remaining space as he wrapped her in his hold. The workbench creaked beneath them, but neither paid it any mind, too wrapped up in the warmth and fervor of each other.

Y/n's head fell back, her hands gripping his shoulders as he continued, each movement sending waves of heat coursing through her. She clung to him, her moans breaking with each gasp as he held her close, his focus unwavering. Jonathan’s gaze was sharp, studying every expression that crossed her face as if committing them to memory.

Leaning in, his lips brushed over her collarbone, trailing up her neck and finally finding the corner of her mouth, catching her moans before they even had a chance to fill the air.

“You’re all mine,” he murmured, the words spilling out in a possessive whisper, his voice rough with desire.

With one hand still pressed firmly to her back, the other moved down to grip her thigh, pulling her leg higher around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper with each thrust.

The sensation sent a shiver through her, and her nails dug into his shoulders, grounding herself in the intensity of it all. She felt her heart pounding wildly, matching the fervent rhythm he’d set, a rhythm that threatened to consume them both.

“Jonathan…” she managed to breathe out, her voice almost a plea.

His only answer was a heated kiss, claiming her mouth with a ferocity that left her dizzy, until they were nothing but a tangle of need and warmth, utterly lost in each other.

Jonathan's thrusts became erratic, each one more desperate than the last, as he held Y/n against him with an unyielding grip. The heat between them had built to an almost unbearable level, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they neared the edge together.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her nails dragging down his back as waves of pleasure began to surge through her. “Jonathan…I’m close,” she whispered shakily, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy.

Her words seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening as he buried his face in her neck, his warm breath fanning against her skin. “Come for me,” he rasped, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down her spine.

With one final, deep thrust, Y/n cried out, her body tensing and trembling against his as she tipped over the edge. Pleasure surged through her in waves, her vision momentarily blurring as the world around her melted away.

Jonathan wasn’t far behind. The feel of her tightening around him, the sound of her cries, and the way her body shook in his arms were enough to send him spiraling. He groaned against her neck, his grip on her tightening as he found his release, his body shuddering in unison with hers.

They remained locked together for a moment, their heavy breaths mingling as they clung to each other. Jonathan finally lifted his head, his forehead resting against hers, his expression softened and sated. A rare, almost tender smile crossed his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her damp face.

Y/n laughed breathlessly, leaning into his touch. “Feeling better, Doctor.”

“Much, my dear, thank you,” he said, his voice low and affectionate, a stark contrast to the usual sharpness in his tone.

Y/n laughed breathlessly, leaning into his touch. “I could say the same about you, Doctor.”

Jonathan huffed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling her closer, savoring the quiet aftermath of their shared intensity.

Jonathan sighed, resting his forehead against Y/n’s for a moment longer before straightening up, the softness in his gaze quickly replaced by his usual sharp focus.

“As much as I’d like to keep you here all night, I have to get back to work,” he murmured firmly.

Y/n groaned dramatically, her head falling back as she rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You just took my ability to walk, and now you’re ditching me for a stack of papers?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, his hands gently sliding down her sides as he pulled away. “Science waits for no one, my dear. Not even you.”

“Ugh,” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms as she sat on the edge of the workbench. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re distracting,” Jonathan replied, his tone hardly teasing as he adjusted his trousers and fixed his shirt.

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “Go clean up and get some rest. I’ll join you when I can.”

Y/n watched him for a moment, her lips pursed in frustration. She knew he was right, this was just who Jonathan was. Still, it didn’t make it any less annoying. “Fine,” she grumbled, sliding off the workbench and retrieving her clothes. “But if you don’t come to bed at a reasonable hour, I’ll…be pissed.”

“Noted,” Jonathan said, already turning back to his notes.

Y/n headed to the bathroom, muttering under her breath about mad scientists and their lack of priorities. She cleaned herself up quickly, her cheeks still warm from their earlier passion, before slipping into a comfortable set of pajamas.

As she climbed into bed, the room felt oddly quiet without Jonathan by her side. She turned onto her side, clutching a pillow and staring at the empty space next to her. Despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking about how stubborn he could be when it came to his work.

“Goodnight, you workaholic!” she yelled out to him below before closing her eyes, letting sleep slowly take her as the faint scratching of Jonathan’s pen filled the distant background.

Y/n stirred awake, her face buried in the soft pillow that still held Jonathan's faint scent. Stretching, she slowly opened her eyes, only to freeze in pleasant surprise.

There he was. Jonathan Crane, the workaholic, the man who rarely allowed himself the luxury of sleep, lying peacefully beside her. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his face soft and serene in the dim morning light. Y/n couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him asleep, it felt like an eternity ago.

A small, content smile crept onto her lips. She resisted the urge to reach out and brush the stray strands of hair from his forehead, afraid to disturb this rare, quiet moment. He looked so different like this, unguarded and almost boyish. For a brief second, Y/n entertained the idea of staying in bed just to admire him a little longer.

But curiosity got the better of her.

Sliding out from under the covers as quietly as she could, Y/n tiptoed out of the bedroom. Her bare feet padded down the stairs, her destination clear in her mind. Jonathan's work desk.

The same desk where he'd been tirelessly scribbling the night before.

Once she reached it, she settled into the chair and began sorting through the scattered pages. Most of it was the usual chemistry formulas and toxin prototypes. She frowned at one of the pages labeled FT - Variant 6, likely meaning fear toxin. The detailed notes described a formula designed to trigger hallucinations of one’s deepest fears in mere seconds.

"Ugh, of course," Y/n muttered to herself, shaking her head. She loved Jonathan, but his obsession with his fear toxins was something she didn’t care for. She quickly shuffled the page aside, uninterested in his chemical warfare.

But then she spotted something different.

A map.

Leaning closer, her eyes widened as she took in the carefully marked routes and notes scrawled in Jonathan’s neat handwriting. The title at the top read Waylon’s Extraction Plan.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Jonathan had a plan to help Killer Croc escape Arkham.

Excitement bubbled up in her chest as she scanned the page. The routes were detailed, accounting for guard rotations, security blind spots, and emergency backups. It was genius, of course it was.

“He’s really going to do it,” Y/n whispered, grinning.

She could already imagine the chaos this plan would bring, the ripple effects of freeing someone like Waylon Jones. But more than that, the thought of seeing Killer Croc out of that dreadful institution made her heart race. Jonathan was actually going to help him, and she couldn’t wait to see it happen.

Folding the page carefully, Y/n placed it back where she found it, not wanting to disturb anything. Her excitement burned brightly in her chest as she quietly crept back upstairs. Jonathan was still sound asleep, and for once, Y/n felt truly content with his plans.

Settling into bed beside him again, she smiled to herself. Atleast he listened to me.

The office was quiet except for the soft scratching of Jonathan’s pen against paper and the occasional rustle of Y/n shifting in her chair. The room smelled faintly of old books and leather, remnants of Jonathan’s ever-present work.

Y/n lounged comfortably in one of the worn armchairs near the corner, her legs draped over the armrest. She absentmindedly flicked through a book she had picked up from the coffee table, though her eyes barely registered the words. Her attention kept wandering back to Jonathan, hunched over his desk with his usual intensity.

The overhead light cast a warm glow over the office, illuminating the stacks of papers, and open books. Even in his university office, he carried on doing her devious work.

“You really need to get a cleaner in here,” Y/n teased, her voice cutting through the silence.

She gestured to the clutter around the room. “One wrong move and this whole place will come down like a house of cards.”

Jonathan didn’t look up. “And risk someone tampering with my research? Hardly.”

Y/n snorted, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “Your research. You mean your elaborate fear toxins and terrifying lesson plans?”

“Precisely,” he quipped, his tone dry.

Pushing herself upright, Y/n swung her legs over the chair and propped her chin on her hand, watching him work. His concentration was unwavering, his pen gliding across the page with precision. She admired how dedicated he was, even if his obsession with his work sometimes made her want to shake him.

“Do you ever take a break, Dr. Crane?” she asked, her voice light but laced with genuine curiosity.

He finally paused, setting his pen down and turning in his chair to face her. “I take breaks,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

Y/n arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh? Name one.”

Jonathan leaned back slightly, his gaze narrowing thoughtfully. “Last month. The gala. We went together.”

“That doesn’t count,” Y/n said with a laugh. “You spent half the night networking and the other half analyzing the psychological profiles of the guests.”

Jonathan shrugged, “It was entertaining.”

“For you,” Y/n shot back, shaking her head.

Jonathan turned back to his work. Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You know, I wouldn’t complain if you spent just one afternoon not plotting someone’s nightmare or grading boring papers.”

“Boring papers keep the university happy. And plotting nightmares…” He trailed off, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Well, that keeps me happy.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, returning to his notes.

Y/n leaned back in her chair again, watching him quietly for a moment. Despite his stubbornness, she couldn’t help but admire him still, the precision in his work, the way his mind was always racing. Even if she’d never understand his obsession with fear toxins, she respected the brilliance behind it.

Eventually, the comfortable silence returned, and Y/n resumed her lounging, content to simply share the space with him while he worked.

Y/n stretched her arms above her head, glancing at the clock on Jonathan’s desk. The minutes seemed to crawl by in his office, especially during his supposed office hours. She tilted her head, smirking as she observed the completely empty space around them, aside from the two of them, of course.

“Jonathan,” she began, breaking the silence, “why do you even bother having three-hour-long office hours when literally no one ever shows up?”

Jonathan didn’t even look up from his papers, his pen continuing its steady rhythm. “Perhaps, one day, one of those idiots will come to their senses and realize I’m an important source of knowledge.”

Y/n snorted, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, please. They’re more likely to go to a tutor’s office hours before coming to you.”

Jonathan paused, finally glancing up with an arched brow. “And why is that?”

“Because,” Y/n said with a teasing grin, “most students prefer their help served with a side of approachability, as I’ve said before. You, on the other hand…do I need to finish that sentence?”

Jonathan cocked and eyebrow. “Watch it, girl.”

Y/n shrugged, unbothered. “Uh huh..”

Jonathan shook his head, turning back to his work with an amused huff, while Y/n chuckled to herself, feeling victorious.

"Remember," Jonathan started, his tone measured as his pen paused mid-stroke on the paper, "I helped you when you came to me the first time."

"Yeah," Y/n replied, her voice laced with dry humor as she lounged across the small couch in his office, "then you drugged me and kidnapped me. Truly, a tale of chivalry."

Jonathan's hand stilled completely, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward her. "That’s how you choose to frame it?"

"Well, it’s not exactly the stuff of fairy tales, is it?" Y/n shot back.

It wasn’t a topic that came up often between them, mostly because neither of them really knew how to approach it. She wasn’t exactly bitter about it, she’d made her peace with the bizarre start to their unconventional relationship. Jonathan, for his part, wasn’t one to apologize for the choices he made, but he had stopped attempting to justify his methods to her long ago.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he watched her. "You’re still here, aren’t you?"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved a hand dismissively, "I’m not holding a grudge. Just pointing out how helpful you were." Her tone was light, but her eyes glimmered with playful challenge.

Jonathan’s lips curved into a sly smile. "If I recall, you weren’t particularly hard to convince to stay."

"Maybe I just didn’t want to risk getting drugged again," Y/n quipped, sitting up straighter.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "You’ve got a way of making everything sound so dramatic."

"And you’ve got a way of making everything actually dramatic," she countered.

Jonathan hummed thoughtfully, returning his gaze to the paper in front of him. "Well, you’re still alive, and arguably better off. I’d say my methods worked."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t entirely suppress her grin. "Sure, let’s go with that. Real knight in shining armor vibes, Jonathan."

"I prefer 'strategic pragmatist,’" he corrected smoothly, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Y/n laughed, leaning back into the couch. "Whatever you say, Professor."

Y/n stood and stretched, the faint creak of the chair beneath her. Jonathan glanced up from his papers, his brow furrowing slightly. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Professor Crane," Y/n said teasingly. "Just grabbing an energy drink from the vending machine."

Jonathan's frown deepened. "Those things are terrible for you.”

She paused, throwing him a mischievous look over her shoulder. "So are you, and yet here we are."

His lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk, but he said nothing more as Y/n slipped out of the office.

The hallway was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the empty space as Y/n approached the vending machine. Fishing a few coins from her pocket, she punched in the numbers for her go-to drink. The machine whirred, and she waited for the can to clatter into the deposit tray.

As she stood there, a prickling sensation crept up her spine, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. Her eyes flicked up cautiously, scanning the corridor.

Her gaze landed on a figure leaning against the wall further down the hall, almost in the shadows. They were too far to make out details, but they were clearly looking in her direction, or at least it seemed that way. Y/n stiffened but quickly shook herself.

This is a university, Y/n, she thought firmly. It’s broad daylight, and you're literally in Jonathan's building. Don’t be ridiculous.

Still, she couldn’t entirely shake the unease, but she refused to let it get the better of her. She grabbed her drink from the machine with a quick motion and turned to head back to Jonathan’s office.

As she walked, she tried to play it cool, not glancing back even though every nerve in her body urged her to. "You’re not some damsel in distress," she muttered under her breath.

By the time she pushed open the door to his office, her expression was neutral, maybe even a little brighter than before.

Jonathan looked up from his work, giving her a brief once-over. "You were gone long enough to consider your life choices."

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n replied breezily, plopping back onto the chair and cracking open the drink. She took a sip, forcing herself to relax as if nothing had happened.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her unusually chipper demeanor but said nothing, returning to his notes. Meanwhile, Y/n kept her face calm and her thoughts buried, determined not to let her earlier discomfort show.

The clock on Jonathan’s office wall ticked softly in the quiet room, its hands marking the end of office hours two hours ago. Despite this, Y/n lingered, lounging on the worn couch with her legs stretched out, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Jonathan sat at his desk, hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen illuminating the sharp lines of his face.

When Jonathan finally pushed back his chair and stood, Y/n perked up.

“Done?” she asked, hopping up and stretching, a playful smile on her lips.

“Half,” Jonathan muttered, his tone laced with exhaustion.

Y/n’s smile softened as she took in his tired features. It had been a grueling day for him, office hours, meetings, endless paperwork, and he’d have to do it all again tomorrow. She admired his resilience but wished he didn’t push himself so hard.

The two exited his office, their footsteps echoing down the empty halls of the university. The campus was eerily quiet, with most lectures having ended hours ago. Only a few stragglers remained, students huddled in study groups or waiting for late tutorials.

As they approached the staff carpark, Y/n noticed the distinct lack of working cameras in the area, something Jonathan had assured her was an advantage for them. They didn’t have to worry about being seen together, which was always a concern given his position.

Jonathan unlocked the car, and they slid into their seats. Just as Y/n was buckling her seatbelt, Jonathan cused loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked, glancing at him.

“I left a file in my office,” he said, his voice tense with frustration.

“Do you need it now?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Yes,” he growled, clearly annoyed with himself.

“Alright, I’ll wait here,” Y/n said with a shrug, leaning back in her seat.

Jonathan hesitated, his furrowed brows and thinly pressed lips betraying his irritation. He let out another low curse before slamming the car door shut and striding back toward the building. Y/n watched him go, the tails of his coat fluttering behind him.

Left alone, she sighed and shifted in her seat, glancing around the dimly lit carpark. The quietness of the campus was unsettling, but she brushed it off, chalking it up to the late hour.

Y/n drummed her fingers idly against her lap, her gaze drifting out the car window. There wasn’t much to look at outside, but there wasn’t much else to focus on. She sighed, shifting in her seat.

Her phone buzzed suddenly in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

It was a message from Jonathan, asking for a hand back in his office.

Y/n let out a small huff, shaking her head with an amused smile. “Bloody idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

She had no idea what he could possibly need help with, but knowing him, it was likely something trivial that he didn’t want to admit struggling with.

Sliding out of the car, she locked it with the key Jonathan had left her and started toward the university building. The faint sound of her boots against the pavement was the only noise cutting through the stillness of the night.

Halfway to the entrance, her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. Glancing at the screen, she frowned slightly, recognizing the number immediately.

Pressing the answer button, she brought the phone to her ear. “Haven’t heard from you in a while, Eddie,” she greeted casually, her tone light despite the lateness of the hour.

“Y/n,” Edward’s voice was sharp and urgent on the other end, cutting through the calm she’d been trying to maintain. “Get back in the car. Now.”

Y/n slowed her steps, her brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?” she asked, confusion lacing her tone. How did Edward even know where she was?

“That wasn’t Jonathan,” he interrupted firmly, his voice dropping into something darker, more desperate.

Her heart stopped, the blood in her veins turning ice cold.

“What do you mean it wasn’t-”

“Go!” Edward barked, his urgency snapping her out of her shock.

Y/n spun on her heel, panic surging through her veins as she darted back toward the car. She barely made it a few steps before colliding with a man blocking her path. A startled noise escaped her lips as she stumbled back, turning to flee in the opposite direction, only to find herself face-to-face with another man.

Her breath hitched, the air caught in her throat as dread settled like a weight in her chest. Edward’s voice was still shouting frantically through the phone, but she couldn’t focus on his words. Her hands trembled as she fumbled in her pocket, her only lifeline flashing through her mind.

Jonathan’s canister.

Without hesitation, Y/n whipped it out, her fingers finding the trigger as she aimed it at the men. A sharp hiss filled the air as the fear gas spewed forth, engulfing their faces. Both men recoiled instantly, their screams tearing through the night as they clawed at their eyes, their terror palpable.

For a fleeting moment, Y/n thought she had a chance. Her heart surged with hope as she darted toward freedom, only to halt abruptly when more figures emerged from the shadows.

These men were different. Each wore a crude, almost comical penguin mask, but there was nothing funny about the way they moved with precision, their intentions clear.

“Shit,” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Desperately, she sprayed the gas at the new arrivals, but it had little effect. Their masks, though laughable, must have been equipped with filters, rendering her weapon useless.

“Fuck!”

Before she could think of another escape, rough hands grabbed her arms, yanking the canister from her grasp.

She struggled against their grip, her mind racing for a plan, but the odds were against her. The last thing she saw before she was dragged into the shadows was the faint glint of the moonlight on the cracked pavement.

She was so fucked.

Y/n thrashed desperately in their iron grip, but the men were well-prepared. One of them swiftly gagged her, silencing her muffled cries, while another pulled a bag over her head. She kicked and squirmed, her heart racing, but they bound her hands and feet with practiced efficiency, rendering her helpless.

These guys were no amateurs.

Tears streamed down her face, dampening the inside of the suffocating bag as fear and frustration welled up within her. Her captors carried her like she weighed nothing, their movements calculated and cold.

She barely registered the thud of her body being thrown into the back of a vehicle, the cold metal floor jarring against her as the van’s doors slammed shut. The engine roared to life, and she felt the lurch as it sped out of the car park, jostling her roughly with each turn.

Her mind raced with a torrent of emotions, panic, anger, helplessness.

She was so utterly, completely fucked.

All she could think about was Jonathan.

Jonathan, where are you?

She had no sense of time. The entire ride was a blur of muffled sobs, desperate thrashing, and exhaustion. At some point, Y/n’s hysterical episode stop, leaving her utterly drained. By the time the van screeched to a halt, she was limp, lying motionless in the back like a discarded doll.

The van doors groaned open, and cold air rushed in, sending a chill over her skin. She felt rough hands grabbing her, pulling her out like luggage. Her feet barely skimmed the ground as she was dragged through what sounded like a large, echoing space. She tried to steady her breathing, but panic buzzed just beneath the surface.

A hard wooden chair met her body, and she winced as they tied her to it, ropes biting into her wrists and ankles. The restraints were unforgiving, chafing against her skin.

That’s when she heard it, the sharp click of a door opening and the staccato rhythm of hurried footsteps.

“Ahh, has our guest arrived?” a voice asked, oily and nasally, dripping with sophistication.

It wasn’t a voice she recognized.

The footsteps stopped abruptly. “Did you bag her like some common animal?” the voice continued, now laced with surprise and fury.

“Well…uh, Two-Face said…” one of the goons stammered, clearly struggling to justify himself.

“Remove it!” the voice barked, sharp and commanding, like a blade cutting through tension.

The bag was yanked off her head, and Y/n blinked rapidly as the room’s light hit her face. Her vision adjusted slowly, revealing her surroundings. The room was dim but lavishly adorned with dark wood, gold accents, and antique furnishings. And then she saw him.

Short and stout, the man before her exuded an air of theatrical menace. He wore a fine velvety suit, a monocle glinting over one eye, and a top hat perched precariously on his balding head. His nose was sharp and beak-like, his features grotesque yet oddly regal.

The Penguin.

“Oh, my dear, my sincerest apologies!” he said, waddling closer with surprising grace for his stature. His voice, though polite, carried a slight sneer, the words drawn out like he was savoring them. “I didn’t think my men would treat you so…uncivily.”

Y/n stared, her heart hammering as the reality of her situation fully sank in.

As he approached, his gaze flickered to the ropes binding her to the chair and the angry red marks left on her wrists. His monocle gleamed as he turned sharply toward the goon nearest her.

“You don’t have to tie her wrists until they’re purple!” he snapped, his voice rising with disgust. “I run a criminal empire, not a circus!”

The goon muttered a weak apology, fumbling to adjust the restraints, but Penguin swatted him away. “Oh, enough! I’ll do it myself.”

He bent down, his stubby fingers surprisingly nimble as he loosened the ropes around her wrists just enough to relieve the pressure. “There we are, my dear,” he cooed, his tone softening. “Do forgive my men. They’re not the brightest of creatures, but they do serve their purpose.”

Y/n stayed silent, her throat too tight to speak, her mind racing with questions and fear.

Penguin straightened up, his small eyes gleaming with curiosity and something darker. “Now, my dear, let’s have a little chat. I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, and I assure you, the reasons are…fascinating.”

Before the Penguin could continue, the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a force that made Y/n flinch. The air in the room grew heavy, the once-faint tension now suffocating. The man who entered was a stark contrast to the theatrical Penguin.

His half-disfigured face caught the dim light, grotesque and menacing, while his dual-colored suit added an almost surreal air of menace. There was no mistaking him, this was Two-Face, the infamous criminal she’d only heard about in whispers.

The Penguin straightened, his hands finding his hips in a display of frustration. “Did you order the men to act so harshly toward the poor girl?” he demanded, his tone accusing but oddly casual.

Two-Face’s gravelly voice cut through the room like a blade. “I told them to do what needed to be done,” he said, each word weighted with cold authority.

Y/n felt a shiver race up her spine. The room seemed to shrink under the intensity of his presence, her pulse quickening as his mismatched gaze scanned the space, sharp and calculating.

Looking around, his anger flared further, his scowl deepening. “Where’s the rest of my men?” he barked, his voice echoing against the walls.

One of the goons in a cheap penguin mask stepped forward, his voice shaky as he spoke. “The girl…she gassed them.”

“What!?” Two-Face snarled, his glare snapping to Y/n like a predator locking onto prey.

Y/n shrank in her seat, her heart pounding like a drum. She could feel the weight of his fury pressing down on her, but before he could say more, the Penguin interjected with a dismissive wave.

“Oh, don’t go blaming the girl,” Penguin said, his tone teetering on the edge of amusement and condescension.

“Maybe if your men were better prepared, they would’ve thought to wear proper masks when going after Scarecrow’s girl.” His monocle glinted as he turned to glare at Two-Face. “Frankly, the fault lies squarely on your shoulders, my dear Harvey.”

Two-Face’s fist clenched at his side, his jaw tightening. “Careful, Cobblepot,” he growled, his tone dripping with warning.

Penguin smirked, unbothered by the larger man’s threatening presence. “Oh, relax, Dent. No need to bicker in front of our guest.”

He gestured toward Y/n with a flourish. “We wouldn’t want her to think we’re uncivilized, would we?”

Y/n sat silently, her wide eyes darting between the two men. Despite her fear, a small, dark thought crept into her mind: Some team they are.

Their bickering continued, the dynamic between them oddly dysfunctional for two partners in crime. But while they were distracted, Y/n’s mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan. If these two kept their focus on each other for long enough, maybe, just maybe, she could find a way out of this mess.

Two-Face’s patience had clearly run its course. With a growl of frustration, he snatched a paperweight from a nearby desk and hurled it across the room, the heavy object smashing against the wall.

“Keep that beak of yours shut, Penguin!” he snapped, his voice echoing with raw anger. “You don’t tell her a damn thing. We wait. That’s it.” Without another word, he stormed out of the room, his uneven footsteps fading into the distance.

The Penguin, unshaken by the display, merely sighed and shook his head in exasperation. He turned back to Y/n with an apologetic smile. “Ah, my dear, forgive the dramatics. Harvey’s never been one for people skills, as you can plainly see.”

Y/n stared at him, unsure how to respond. The bizarre mix of theatrics and danger left her frozen, her mind racing to process the surreal situation she was trapped in.

The Penguin pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his gold watch, the gesture overly grandiose. “Oh, heavens, look at the time! You must be hungry. I can’t have my guest starving, now can I?” He clapped his hands twice, the sound sharp and commanding, before waddling off to bark orders at the goons nearby.

In mere minutes, the men scrambled to bring in a small table and a chair. The Penguin settled himself across from Y/n with surprising grace for his stocky frame.

“Now, my dear,” he began, adjusting his monocle and flashing her a thin smile, “I do hope you understand, this is nothing personal. Well…” He tilted his head with mock consideration. “Actually, it is, but you’re simply collateral in a much larger game. No hard feelings, I trust?”

Y/n could only glare at him. Her hands were still bound, her mouth still gagged, leaving her no way to express the flood of emotions, fear, anger, and frustration, that roiled within her.

The Penguin’s smile faltered as he noticed her predicament. “Ah, how terribly rude of me!” He gestured dramatically at his men. “Untie her hands, you idiots. And remove that gag!”

The goons hurried to obey, loosening the ropes around her wrists and pulling the gag away. Y/n gasped as the pressure finally lifted, her jaw aching from being forced shut for so long. She wiped at her face, grimacing at the uncomfortable dampness left behind by the gag.

She flexed her sore wrists, trying to rub some feeling back into them, but the ropes around her ankles remained firmly in place. Her newfound freedom didn’t amount to much, but it was enough to give her a sliver of hope.

The Penguin, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, observing her with an almost paternal air. “There now, isn’t that better? You must forgive the earlier treatment. Some of my men are, shall we say, lacking in refinement. But let’s not dwell on unpleasantness.”

He motioned to a plate of food that one of his men had placed on the table. “Eat, my dear. You’ll need your strength. It’s going to be quite an eventful evening.”

Y/n’s stomach churned as she stared at the plate. She didn’t trust any of it, and she certainly didn’t trust him. But for now, she had to play along, biding her time and praying that Jonathan would come for her before it was too late.

Y/n reluctantly picked at the food, her trembling hands giving away the panic still coursing through her. The Penguin watched her with an almost fatherly patience, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers, his monocle gleaming in the dim light.

"Splended," he said softly, his tone unnervingly warm. "I knew you’d see reason. Cooperation makes this all so much easier, don’t you agree?"

She didn’t respond, her eyes darting to the door every so often. The sound of footsteps outside made her flinch, but no one entered. Jonathan had to know she was missing. Either if Edward called him or he returned to the empty car park.

The Penguin, ever observant, noticed her gaze. “Waiting for your knight in tattered armor, are you?” he said with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “I hate to break it to you, but Scarecrow doesn’t exactly have the…resources to pull off a daring rescue.”

Y/n shot him a glare, her fists clenching on the table.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, dear. I’m simply stating the facts. Harvey and I, well, we’re leagues ahead of that mad doctor. This is chess, not checkers. You’re just a very important piece we needed to…” He smirked, choosing his words with care. “Motivate him.”

Y/n’s stomach dropped. She already knew she was bait, but hearing it still pissed her off.

“You’re wasting your time,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “Jonathan won’t be dumb enough to come for me.”

The Penguin’s grin widened. “Oh, my dear, don’t sell yourself short. A man like Crane? Brilliant but unhinged? He’d burn Gotham to the ground for someone he cares about. And trust me, we’re counting on it.”

The door creaked open, and Y/n stiffened as Two-Face reentered the room, flipping a coin in his off hand. His mismatched eyes landed on her, and a cruel smile twisted his scarred features.

“Still playing the gentleman, are we, Cobblepot?” he sneered. “You’re too soft on her.”

The Penguin waved him off. “There’s no harm in a little civility, Harvey. She’s our guest, after all.”

“Guest?” Two-Face barked out a bitter laugh. “She’s leverage. Nothing more.”

Y/n glared at him, her fear momentarily eclipsed by defiance. “You think Jonathan’s going to walk into whatever trap you’ve set? You don’t know him.”

Two-Face glared towards the Penguin, “I told you to keep your mouth shut!” but there was little he could do now.

Two-Face leaned in closer, his good side almost soft, his scarred side a terrifying reminder of his instability. “Oh, he’ll come,” he growled. “Men like Crane can’t resist their obsessions. And you, sweetheart, are the perfect little weak spot.”

Y/n’s resolve wavered, but she refused to let them see her break. Her mind raced for options, anything to stall, to delay, to give Jonathan more time.

Two-Face straightened and turned to the Penguin. “Keep her comfortable, but not too comfortable. We’ll need her alive and scared when the time comes.”

With that, he stormed out again, leaving the Penguin to tut disapprovingly. “Such dramatics,” he muttered, adjusting his monocle. “But don’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure things don’t get too unpleasant for you. At least for now.”

Y/n’s jaw tightened as she met his gaze. She wasn’t about to sit and wait for Jonathan to save her. If she was going to survive this, she’d have to find a way to delay whatever they had planned.

The Penguin sat at the table across from Y/n, absently swirling the liquid in a glass of wine as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Y/n’s wrists still ached, but the silence was worse than the ropes had been. The Penguin had hardly said a word in the last few minutes, only glancing at her occasionally with that eerie smirk.

Y/n’s mind was racing, desperate for some kind of plan. She couldn’t figure out what was more terrifying, sitting helplessly or the thought of what might happen next.

The tension was broken when the door suddenly flew open. A goon in a cheap penguin mask barreled in, his breath ragged, his eyes wide with panic beneath the plastic disguise.

“Boss! We’ve got a problem!” the goon yelled, practically tripping over his own feet.

The Penguin straightened in his chair, a predatory glint in his eye. “Ah, it seems the guest of honor has arrived sooner than expected,” he said, pushing his glass aside and adjusting his monocle.

“No, boss,” the goon stammered, shaking his head violently. “It’s not him. It’s..it’s something else!”

The Penguin’s smirk faltered, and he leaned forward. “Something else?” he echoed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “What else could possibly be here?”

Before the goon could respond, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, echoing through the halls.

The Penguin shot up from his chair, his usual composed demeanor cracking. “What in blazes—”

A deafening bang followed the scream, the sound reverberating through the room as though something massive had collided with the walls outside.

The goon’s panic reached a fever pitch, and he backed toward the door. “Boss, we’ve got to get out of here! It’s tearing through-”

His words were cut off by another crash, this one closer. The walls seemed to vibrate with the force of it, and a low, guttural growl that didn’t sound remotely human seeped into the room.

Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Whatever was out there, it wasn’t Jonathan, and it wasn’t anything she’d ever heard before.

The Penguin cursed under his breath, shoving past the goon to reach the door. He peeked through the crack, only to pull back immediately, his face pale.

“Well,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically shaky, “it appears we’ve attracted some rather unsavory company.”

“What is it?” Y/n demanded, her voice breaking despite herself.

The Penguin looked back at her, the faintest trace of fear in his eyes. “Let’s just say, my dear,” he said, reaching for his umbrella, “this party has a new guest…and it’s not one I care to entertain.”

Before anyone could move, the door burst open, splintering off its hinges. Another scream erupted from somewhere in the distance as something massive loomed in the doorway, casting a long, dark shadow into the room.

Y/n’s stomach jumped. It was Killer Croc. His hulking, reptilian form towered over everyone, his scaled skin glistening under the dim light. Yellow, predatory eyes locked onto her immediately, and the low growl rumbling from his throat sent shivers down her spine.

“Aw, hell,” one of the goons whispered, stepping back in terror.

Croc’s lips curled into a snarl, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Without a word, he started moving toward her, each heavy step shaking the floor beneath him.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” The Penguin screeched, waving his cane frantically. “Stop him!”

The goons scrambled to comply, drawing their weapons. One of them swung a metal pipe, aiming for Croc’s chest. It connected with a sickening clang but didn’t even make him flinch.

Croc’s gaze didn’t waver from Y/n as his massive clawed hand lashed out, grabbing the goon by the chest. With horrifying ease, he flung the man across the room, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch.

Another goon rushed him with a knife, aiming for his side. Croc swatted him away like a fly, the man screaming as he was hurled across the table and into the opposite wall.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear the chaos around her. Her legs were still tied, and escape was impossible. She could only watch in frozen terror as Croc cut through the men like they were nothing.

“Croc! Old pal, let’s talk about this!” Penguin called out, stepping forward with a forced smile. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of understanding. There’s no need for all this…carnage.”

Croc finally stopped and turned his head toward Penguin. “I’m not here for you, Cobblepot,” he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, dripping with menace.

Penguin took a cautious step back, still gripping his cane tightly. “Well, that’s a relief,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “But you’re wrecking my establishment, Croc. Surely there’s a more civilized way to handle–”

Croc cut him off with a snarl, taking another step toward Y/n. “I said I’m not here for you,” he repeated, his voice booming. “I’m here for her.”

Penguin’s forced bravado crumbled, his eyes darting between Croc and Y/n. “Now, listen,” he said, backing toward the door. “This isn’t my business. You do what you need to, big guy. I’ll…I’ll just get out of your way.”

And with that, the Penguin turned and bolted, his cane clutched under his arm as he disappeared through the door.

Y/n’s breath caught as Croc finally reached her, his towering frame filling her vision. He crouched down, his enormous bulk making everything else in the room seem small and insignificant. She didn’t flinch this time as his clawed hand reached out, her trust in him outweighing her fear.

With a single swipe, Croc shredded the ropes binding her legs, freeing her effortlessly.

“You’re coming with me,” he rumbled, his deep voice steady and reassuring as he stood to his full, imposing height.

Relief flooded through Y/n, and for the first time since she’d been dragged into this nightmare, she felt a glimmer of hope. This wasn’t a new threat, it was exactly what she’d asked for. Croc had come, just like she’d hoped he would.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling but full of gratitude.

Croc didn’t respond, but his firm nod was enough. He glanced toward the door as the sound of heavy boots and shouting echoed down the hallway. Reinforcements were on their way. His lips curled into a snarl, claws flexing in anticipation.

“We’ve gotta move,” he growled, grabbing her arm with surprising care, his grip steady but gentle.

Y/n got to her feet, her legs shaky but holding firm. She trusted him, Croc was here for her, and despite the chaos still raging around them, she felt safer with him than she had all night.

“Let’s go,” he rumbled again, and this time, she didn’t hesitate.

Whatever lay ahead, at least she wasn’t facing it alone anymore.

The room trembled with every step Killer Croc took, his hulking form moving with surprising agility as he led Y/n toward the exit. The chaos around them was deafening, screams, gunfire, and the sickening crunch of bodies meeting walls as Croc swatted away any goons foolish enough to stand in his way.

Y/n clung to his arm, her legs still unsteady but moving as fast as she could to keep up. Every time she stumbled, Croc slowed just enough to let her regain her footing without missing a beat.

Another wave of goons poured into the hallway ahead, weapons drawn and yelling threats. Croc didn’t even break stride. With a feral snarl, he charged forward, his claws ripping through their defenses like paper. One swung a bat, only for Croc to catch it mid-swing and snap it in half before tossing the man aside like a ragdoll.

Y/n winced at the violence, but she couldn’t deny the strange sense of relief washing over her. These men had taken her, threatened her, and Croc was making sure they wouldn’t get another chance.

“Stay close,” Croc rumbled, glancing back at her as the last of the goons hit the ground, groaning.

They turned a corner, only to be met with a pair of doors that slammed open. More reinforcements. Y/n’s heart sank as she recognized the man leading them, Two-Face, his disfigured face twisted in fury.

“Croc!” Two-Face barked, raising a pistol. “You’re making a mistake. Walk away now, and we’ll forget this.”

Croc didn’t respond with words. Instead, he let out a low growl, a warning that sent a shiver down Y/n’s spine. Two-Face fired, the bullet grazing Croc’s shoulder.

It only seemed to make him angrier.

With a roar, Croc lunged, slamming into Two-Face’s men like a freight train. The pistol clattered to the ground as Croc grabbed Two-Face by the front of his suit, lifting him effortlessly off the floor.

Croc snarled, his growl a guttural threat. He hurled Two-Face into a group of his men, scattering them like bowling pins.

“Let’s go,” Croc said, turning to Y/n.

Together, they burst through the nearest exit, emerging into the cold night air. Y/n gasped, her lungs greedily taking in the fresh air as they made their way across the deserted lot.

Behind them, the chaos roared like a storm, shouts, gunfire, and the crashing of furniture as Croc barreled forward, Y/n close at his heels. They burst out of the building into the cold night, the sharp air stinging her lungs.

Croc didn’t stop, his massive frame plowing through the darkened lot, scattering debris in their path. Y/n stumbled but kept moving, her heart pounding as they crossed the open space, shadows stretching long under flickering lights.

The shouts behind them grew fainter as they disappeared into the night, her pulse finally slowing when they reached the safety of an abandoned alley. She’ll be back in Jonathan’s arms in no time.

A/N: yay!! more Waylon!! lol, we love Crocy, and we gon' have more of him, slay!

I hope you enjoyed this part, and thank you for reading 💚

(God, i had yo post this from my phone cause my laptops being a bitch on tumblr)

#fanfic #smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #batman #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #dc scarecrow #cillian murphy scarecrow #batman scarecrow #the scarecrow #scarecrow #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut

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lucyswinter · 1 year ago

Text

onion tears and caring kisses 🧅 〰️. - * • ❤️‍🩹

pairing: jonathan crane x f!reader

summary: jonathan comes home from a long day at work to his loving girlfriend trying (and failing) to cook dinner

genre: fluff

warnings: slightly ooc!jonathan, praise, mention of a slight burn

♡ ♡ ♡

(a/n): my first fanfic!! it’s just a lil drabble but i hope you enjoy <3 also i only sort of proofread so i apologise for any mistakes 😣

♡ ♡ ♡

you sigh loudly as a puff of steam quickly rises up from the small pan of onions you have sautéing on the stove. heavy raindrops are pelting the window above the counter next to you, an added distraction to the already hectic atmosphere.

“my gosh how difficult is it to cook some onions?” you mumble to yourself as your eyes water slightly from the intense smell of the onions. you drop the wooden spoon you had been holding, and bring your hand up to wave the thick steam away from your face, just as the smoke alarm goes off. you swat your hand down and groan, accidentally hitting your exposed wrist on the hot pan, which orients a louder and more aggressive groan.

“why does everything have to go wrong” you moan in annoyance, shrinking onto the floor with your back against the marble countertops, clutching your wrist, now red from the heat. the smoke alarm is still blaring at an annoyingly loud volume and at confusing, spotty intervals.

“love?” jonathan questions worriedly as he walks into the kitchen, slipping off a raincoat from his shoulders, pants damp from the rain “what is that sound” he continued in the nervous tone, referring to the smoke alarm. he walks forward a small bit and places his coat on the kitchen island, still unable to find you.

“jonathan? i didn’t even hear you come in” you exclaim as you hop up from your slouching position against the counter, wincing a little as you place your injured hand against the cold, hard floor in an attempt to get up.

“oh there you are!” he says, relieved. he smiles, walking over to you briskly and pulling you the rest of the way up by your elbows, giving you a small peck on the lips. “how was your day, pretty girl?” he looks you up and down as he waits for a response, his smile drops as he sees the quickly forming burn mark on your wrist.

“oh, love, did you do this? what happened?” he asks you, lifting your chin up with his fingers so he can make eye contact with you. “hm?” he prompts when he is met with silence.

“sorry i um” you wipe away a tear from your eyes, partly from the onions, and partly because it has been a very stressful half an hour in the kitchen. “i was trying to make dinner but i kind of messed it up and i hurt myself on the stove” you sniff, rubbing your wrist and turning your head to avoid his forced gaze.

he turns your head back to him, fingers still holding your chin. he frowns at your tears.

“oh my sweet girl” he praises, peppering soft kisses your under eyes which have become increasingly shiny from a more consistent stream of tears. he then brings your wrist up to his lips and gives it a soft kiss. you wince at the feeling, and pull it to your chest, cradling it slowly. he takes your cheeks in his hands and uses his calloused thumbs to brush away the rest of the tears. “darling, you know i always make dinner, you didn’t have to do this.” he coos you, his tone quiet and reassuring.

“i know john, i just-“ you huff, voice breaking a bit. you spot the corners of his mouth turn a little more downward, his frown more pronounced. you take a deep breath in and continue “-you just said you’ve had a hard week at work and i wanted to do something for you, and i thought it would be nice if you could come home and have one less thing to do, but i didn’t take into account that i really do not know how to cook, and tacos are especially labor intensive” you drone on, a stress-induced hiccup punctuating your rant.

he stays quiet for a few seconds, still holding your teary face in his hands. he lets out a chuckle and kisses your lips.

“oh my kind and caring girl. so thoughtful” he hums against your lips. “mm” he groans as he pulls away to look at you, tears still falling.

instead of saying anything else, he just brushes the tears collecting on your chin and turns off the stove. he then leads you to a drawer from which he pulls out ointment and a small bandage wrap. he squirts the pasty off-white ointment onto your red wrist and spreads it very softly, his heart aching at your quiet winces. he then wraps the bandage around your wrist and cuts it with a light tug.

“there we go, pretty girl. all patched up.* he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose “why don’t we just order some takeout now, love?” he chuckles again.

you nod and sniffle, feeling a little guilty that he has more to do after a stressful day. your cheek smooshes against his shoulder as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“jonathan, your kind of squishing me.” you tell him through his sweater.

“oh, im sorry love.” he pulls away chuckling, but keeps his hands locked around your arms. he pulls an arm away to wipe your tears one last time. “so should we get dim sum or pizza?” he asks, a playful grin sneaking onto his cheeks.

“how about tacos?” you reply with a smile, already in a better mood.

“sounds perfect” he softens his grin to return your smile as he begins to pull out his phone from his pocket.

…

you enjoyed the rest of the night eating professionally made tacos, and snuggling against jonathan on the couch. even though it ended up okay this time, you and jonathan agreed that you should not be allowed to cook for a while…

♡ ♡ ♡

(a/n): thanks for reading if you made it this far! ill be putting out more fanfics as soon as possible (once i figure out how to set up my inbox 😭)

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x y/n #scarecrow x reader #ooc jonathan crane #fanfic #jonathan crane fanfic #lucywrites<3

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deadgirlsnoring · 1 year ago

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FORGIVE ME | DR. JONATHAN CRANE

Summary; He’s so sorry for what he did, and he’s gonna prove to you just how much he is.

Contents; Face sitting (fem recieving), whiny/bratty Jonathan, degradation, cumming without touch, overstimulation, begging, black fem reader.

Her silky smooth skin rubbed up against his, he couldn't help but whine and try to get out of the restraints restricting him.

"I-I told you... fuck. I told you I'm sorry, how many times do I have to say this!" Jon was getting frustrated, how could Y/n do this to him. It wasn't enough, she wanted him to feel her rage.

Clicking her tongue, she rolled her eyes. "Why would you kiss her then? Bring her up to our hotel room like you guys were gonna get it on." The dr. was tied up to the bed, his hands tightly roped together along with his legs, ankles so tight he knew he'd have bruises the next day.

"Oh, please. I p- promise, okay? Promise It won't happen again, just let me cum." She shook her head slowly, her eyes seeping deep into his soul.

Y/n sat sideways towards Jonathan, her short French white manicure dancing creepily on his thighs, never touching where he truly wanted her to. Always going so close but so far.

"I love you, hm? You know I do momma. Made a mistake is all, I'm good. Aren't I?" She cooed, her warm hands getting tangled in his fluffy hair. He almost thought she was really gonna go easy on him, almost.

Jon gritted his teeth and whined carelessly when she tugged on it harshly, pulling his face as much as she could toward her. "You think I don't see through you?" She mumbled, fake pouting. He could feel and smell her icy breath on his neck.

This was the most Y/n had touched him in hours, he was glad but oh how he wasn't, "You're a pathetic slut, you crave attention so bad that when I don't give it to you, you look for random sluts?"

When she let go harshly he whimpered quietly, missing her harsh but loveable touch.

"You want somebody else to love you? Do you not think I give your ungrateful ass what you want?" A pout fell upon his face, trying to get out of his restraints.

"N- No! I only want you. I'm so sorry, forgive me." Chuckling lowly, she stood up. Her red bottoms clicked on the floor at each and every step she took.

Jonathan was completely undressed, with no type of clothing on his body. On the other hand, Y/n was dressed somewhat head to toe, with a small black mini skirt, black thigh garters, and her signature black lacy bra.

"I can untie you right now Jonny, you wanna go have fun with any slut you see? Ugh you're such a slut, aren't you?” He frantically nodded his head, he just wanted to please her.

"I don't want you to! I'm your slut, I'm yours. Please please please say it." She didn't want to make him happy. Wanted to break him down into a sobbing little mess.

"Now you're gonna tell me what to do? Thought you knew better than that." The man could feel the hot tears brimming, she was always so mean.

A choked moan fell from his lips when Y/n held the base of his needy cock, precum already spilling from his tip. "Why do you have to be so pathetic baby? It's embarrassing, really." He was panting loudly as her hands started an up and down motion, it hurt so good.

"M'thank you, fuck t- thank you." She pouted her lips, he really was so cute sometimes, "Language, now shut the fuck up. Don't wanna hear a peep from you. You can cum when you feel like it, okay Jonny?"

He nodded appreciatingly, she only had the tiniest bit of niceness in her body, and he loved it so much.

A small smile crept onto her face, holding one hand at the base while she moved the other one in a half circle, so fast his vision was blurring.

"S- Slow... Slow? P- Please?" Jonny was breathing so heavily you couldn't even hear anything else. Y/n wasn't smiling, "I tell you to shut up and you don't listen? Why are you such a brat? So fucking annoying."

Wanting to be quiet for her, he tried his best. Only letting out a small whimper when she grazed over his tip.

She said he could cum whenever, so when he felt that pit in his stomach when her mouth attached to his needy head, oh he couldn't help it.

Y/n lightly grazed his dick with her teeth, he only liked it when he was getting punished, to induce the pain. Only doing two strokes of that, the girl sucked on his tip, her tongue swirling around it. That's what made tears fall down his face, when they reached his mouth he just licked them off.

His body tensed up and he choked back a moan, but Y/n didn't care. Humming and continuing her work she smirked when his warm liquid coated the walls of her throat.

It kept going, and she kept sucking. Milking him for all he had. When he finished completely, she slowly moved up off him, waiting for him to come back into reality. While he was doing so she scooched up, placing little tiny kisses along his jaw, circling down to his chest and back up.

"Thank you t- thank you, I'm sorry for what I did." Looking at her smiling softly with a blank stare he should've known at that moment, she wasn't finished.

"You wanna eat miss out? Hm?" Her voice was soft and innocent, yet her words were far from it. Lightly giggling when he nodded his head repeatedly.

She had no panties on under and her man always had a thing for short skirts, so she kept it on.

“Don’t do that, let me help you. Please.” Y/n was teasing him. He couldn’t pull her thighs down when she hovered over his face, licking his lips seeing how her wetness dripped down on her thigh.

“P- Please? I’m sorry, do you want me to beg? I- I can beg miss, if you want.” Y/n held onto his tied up hands while slowly lowering herself down into his mouth.

Letting out a sigh when his mouth came in contact with her heat, “You’re so good baby, fuck. I’m thinking bout forgiving you.”

Moaning into her cunt, he lapped up all of her juices, savouring the taste. She barely let him eat her out, and if this made her forgive him. Jonny would do anything.

The man was great with his mouth, playing with her clit with his tongue. “Mhmm, make me cum Jonny.”

Her hands tangled into his hair, her sharp nails scratching against his scalp making him groan loudly. He was so close, she didn’t even know.

Jonny let Y/n rub herself onto his face, using him for her own pleasure.

Her legs trembled and she lost balance, sitting directly onto his face. Jonathan did his best, sucking up every single drop she let go, his whimpers being muffled underneath her.

“Wow little Jonny, y- you’re actually useful for something.” She stood up, and got off the bed, not bothering to look at the man tied up.

When she did though, a laugh erupted from her. She kept going, the sound of her giggling made him feel small; humiliated.

“How embarrassing Jonathan.” He didn’t wanna look her in the face.

“I’m sorry.” The man sounded so embarrassed, oh how she loved that. “You wanna do it again? I think you can baby.”

He shook his head, he hated when she overstimulated him. “No, no. I said I’m sorry, c’mon? It hurts.”

While crawling up onto the bed towards him she smirked, her pearly whites making his heart jump.

“But I like when you hurt. Don’t you wanna make miss happy?” He didn’t wanna nod, and he didn’t wanna shake his head no.

Her nails scratched into his skin, red lines making their mark.

When her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he couldn’t help but let out a grunt, his eyes rolling back.

“Lets do it again, yeah?”

xoxo, liah

#dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!jonathan crane #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #black fem reader #black!fem!reader

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grackleshells · 11 months ago

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I haven’t finished the series yet but Scarecrow in Batman: The Audio Adventures has to be one of my favorite iterations of the character. Gah! I just can’t get over it!

He’s so sinister yet has this giddiness about him and I just adore it! The knife game scene comes to mind first but even just his dialogue as Dr. Jonathan Crane is so full of energy and character. Like he takes glee in terrorizing people! And I love that! It makes everything he does more horrific.

Also the fact he has little quirks like giggling sinisterly (even when he’s supposed to be a regular not-evil Dr lmao), having a love for old creature features, and a reoccurring desire to eat fear (hot) makes his whole character stand out- he’s not just the same scary, evil guy but in a different medium. Why are so many people sleeping on him?? It makes me insane

Bradley Whitford absolutely stole the show and his voice-work is truly something special. Really hope we see more of him as Scarecrow in the future

#the same goes for the Riddler too!#john leguizamo did wonderful #made me fall in love with a character i normally am pretty neutral on #miss Tuesday of course was also a delight #Batman #batman the audio adventures #btaa #scarecrow #scarecrow Batman #scarecrow btaa #Jonathan crane

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caesariawritesstuff · 5 months ago

Note

Ok I'm sorry but I have to do this! Is there anyway we could get a small continuation of that Scarecrow x Detective short story you wrote? Maybe how Ed would react to hearing that Jonathan did something to the Detective? Or just noticing her acting off afterward? If not that is 100% ok!

Precious Heart

Summary: After learning about Detective's conversation with Jonathan Crane, Edward isn't too happy, and makes an effort to confront Crane himself. Continuation of the short fic, Damaged Goods.

Content Warning: Angst & Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Minor spoilers for Cat & Mouse

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This fic is a continuation of Damaged Goods, and currently not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse storyline.

Right about now, you could scream.

The sensation lingered in the back of your throat, building and building as you stormed down the hall from the morgue. Rage rushed through you as hot as dry lightning, sparking a fire deep in your belly – and a strange, lingering warmth between your legs.

Because here you were, suddenly turned on by Jonathan Crane.

Scowling, you threw a glance over your shoulder as you stopped in front of the elevator, glaring back down the hall. Bastard, you thought, a dozen curses ringing through your mind. How dare he put his hands on you? Slowly, you reached up, your fingers grazing across the question mark pendant dangling around your neck, resting at the delicate hollow of your throat. You could not believe the interaction that just happened, and you found yourself replaying it over and over again in your head, on repeat, a never-ending loop.

If there was one person in this damn precinct who had become an anomaly to you, it was Jonathan Crane. Never had you expected a man like him to be given a chance at reform as well, especially considering the fact that he’d caused so much chaos and destruction three years ago – but you supposed you could understand why City Council would want him to help on this case. Even you and Mack were completely and utterly stumped, out of your minds about who else in this damn city could be developing a horrifying toxin capable of melting people’s bodies from inside out. The thought sent a tremor of fear through you – and you cursed yourself under your breath again, at the very prospect of being afraid. Because deep down, you knew that’s exactly what Crane wanted you to be: scared. Fearful. Terrified. And you would not give him that satisfaction; you’d been through enough in the last few months, and you were not willing to let the Master of Fear get under your skin.

With a heavy sigh, you took the elevator back up the Homicide Divisions floor, but as the numbers ticked by as slow as ever, you caught a glimpse of your reflection on the wall: your wide eyes, flushed cheeks, the small pout to your lips. A strange sensation bubbled in your stomach, hot and writhing, causing an uncomfortable knot to form there. You had not expected the entire interaction with Crane to be…heated. Or for him to have such an effect on you, one you weren’t even sure you were even processing clearly. All you really knew was that that familiar pulsing of warmth throbbed in your clit, and it had been caused by a man who was, perhaps, one of the most terrifying people you’d ever met.

There had been something cold in his blue eyes, even though the right was damaged and milky, but the way he looked at you – studied you from head to toe as if you were a science experiment – wasn’t what bothered you. Neither did the white scars all across his skin, remnants of his reconstructed face, a stark change to the man who was hauled into the GCPD three years ago, completely out of his own mind on fear toxin. What bothered you was how easily he’d approached you, grasping at the pendant around your neck with care, asking you such blasé questions about your relationship with Edward. Questions even you had asked yourself over the last few months – because Crane was right. You did not know what a man like Edward Nigma had come to see you in, why he’d fallen for you, and Crane’s questions only furthered your own. But what you could not understand was why he cared so much to ask them – and why he seemed so content to believe you were ruined for anyone else, all because Edward had touched you, lied with you, had claimed you as his own. You were not ruined, and you would not let Jonathan Crane or anyone else think otherwise.

“Bastard,” you mumbled under your breath again as the doors opened and you stepped out, taking a quick glance around at the detectives and officers milling about. The room was buzzing with voices and chatter, phones ringing off the hook, you quickly made your way back to your desk, sitting down with a heavy sigh. You lowered your face into your hands, pain throbbing at your skull, spreading across your temples.

Shit. This wasn’t good – you should not let Crane be getting under your skin like this, or feel so…well, you weren’t sure what you were feeling right about now. Rage. Irritation. Annoyance. Pleasure.

Crap. The way he’d circled around you, a predator analyzing its prey, the way he’d grasped your pendant and stroked it at with his fingers – something about the entire movement caused your clit to ache. What was it about men like Edward Nigma and Jonathan Crane that had you feeling such utter draw to them? Maybe you were beginning to realize that you had a type.

And, as much as you couldn’t help it, you found your thoughts beginning to wander. What would it have been like if Crane had bent you over that morgue table and had his way with you, fucking you into oblivion, his hand wrapped your throat as his cold, raspy voice whispered dirty things into your ear?

“Shit,” you whispered, but just as the words escaped your lips, a mug of coffee was set beside you. You glanced up to find Edward standing there, his own mug of coffee in hand, and he smirked at you, eyes studying you with slow intention.

“Thanks,” you said, taking the mug, but a heartbeat of guilt passed through you. You were with Edward for God’s sake – why were you thinking about another man?

Edward’s eyes narrowed, as if he immediately could sense something was wrong, and his gaze roved over you, making the skin prickle on the back of your neck. “Is something wrong, detective?”

“No, nothing,” you said quickly, the lie heavy on your tongue – but by the way Edward’s brows furrowed, you knew he didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t. Why was he so capable of reading you? You averted your gaze, quickly taking a sip of coffee, and burned your tongue.

Edward crossed his arms. “Come now, detective,” he sighed. “Tell me what’s happened.”

You looked up and around; Mack was gone from his desk, and everyone else was far too busy involved in their own cases to be bothering to listen to you. Sighing, you gestured for Edward to sit, and he took the empty chair at the desk beside you, waiting for you to continue.

“So…Jonathan Crane is…interesting,” you finally said, choosing your words carefully.

Edward quirked a brow, leaning back in his chair. “Did he say something to you?”

You were silent for a beat, but you knew there was no point in lying. “Well...I was down in the morgue when the power went out. We had an…interesting talk.”

“About?” Something cold laced Edward’s voice, curiosity in his tone.

“My relationship with you.”

Edward was quiet for a long moment, long enough that you could tell he was thinking through every possibility that such a conversation entailed. Finally, he sighed and asked, “And what did the good doctor say?”

“He…” You looked away, biting slightly on your bottom lip as you struggled to answer his question. The last thing you wanted to do was have Edward go storming down to the morgue and throwing a fit in a jealous huff.

Finally, you looked back at him. “He just wanted to know about us. You know, how long we’d been together. That kind of thing.”

Edward blinked. His face was like stone, a passive statue of emotionless. Finally, he smiled, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Well, can you blame him? Why wouldn’t he be curious? After all, you’re with me – the smartest, most handsome man in Gotham. It’s only natural for him to be curious about a relationship which is so great that he cannot even comprehend.”

“So great, huh?” you asked, unable to fight the smile threatening to curve at your lips.

“Of course, my dear. You’re with me, remember?” His grin didn’t faulter, but he leaned forward slightly. “And I am the best partner, the best lover, you could ever ask for. No need to deny it, detective, we both know it’s the truth.”

You rolled your eyes, a small laugh bubbling out of your chest. Well, at least his ego was still intact – you did not think that was one thing that could ever be taken away from Edward. But as you turned back to your desk, content to pour over the case files, another heartbeat of regret pounded in your stomach, spreading like wildfire through your bloodstream – but there was something else, too, something raw and real and terrifying that you did not want to admit.

Because, deep down, you knew that Jonathan Crane was right.

Edward had completely, and utterly ruined you.

If there was one thing Edward come to learn long ago, it was that Jonathan Crane was a very deliberate man. He did not ask questions without purpose, without trying to learn something about someone, without trying to find their weakness or exploits. The man was a manipulative bastard, but he supposed he could say the same about himself. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well over the years. While Edward had often found himself at odds with the likes of Penguin and Two-Face, it was Jonathan whom he retained the closest thing to a friendship.

So having him here at the GCPD was quite the surprise – one that had even Edward questioning Jonathan’s own motivations for why he would accept a similar deal from City Council. But so far, Edward had been far too busy with his own tasks to find a moment to slip down to the forensics lab and have a moment to speak alone with Jonathan – until now.

A knot of uncertainty bundled in Edward’s stomach. It had been clear that you’d been hiding something from him when retelling your conversation with Crane, but Edward hadn’t pressed further – he wanted to hear the details from Crane himself. Clearly, he’d must have asked something to get under your skin. Probably some silly thing about fear or terror or whatever else Jonathan found so interesting, but Edward hadn’t wanted to press you too hard on the matter, not when you’d looked so shaken up. So as he walked down the hall and slipped into the medical examiner’s office, he narrowed his eyes, immediately finding Crane sitting at counter, filled with vials in an array of colors, lab equipment organized neatly around him. Dr. Collins was gone, thankfully, allowing Edward the privacy he needed, and he stepped into the room.

Jonathan swiveled around in his chair, his mouth opening slightly as if to ask something, but he quickly shut it when he realized it was Edward standing there. His cold eyes were narrowed, stoic, not an inch of emotion written across his face.

“Crane,” Edward said, stepping further into the room.

“Ah, Edward,” Jonathan said, his voice gravelly, cold, a raspiness to it. “I was wondering when you’d honor me with your presence.”

Edward smirked, but wandered over with slow, calculated steps. “Oh, you know,” he said with a lazy wave of his hand. “The Commissioner just loves to keep me busy. I hardly get a moment to myself in this place.”

Jonathan turned back to his vials, humming under his breath. “It must pain someone with such intelligence like yourself to be reduced to working in a place like this.”

Edward shrugged, but leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, only a foot away from where Jonathan worked. “It has its perks,” he said, his thoughts straying to you. You were the only reason this place was bearable in any capacity.

Jonathan’s cold gaze slid to him once more. “Ah, yes. Your…paramour. I take it she told you about our conversation?”

A muscle feathered in Edward’s jaw, and he met Crane’s gaze. “No. But I’m here to hear it out of your own mouth, Crane. What exactly did you say to her?”

Jonathan shrugged in indifference, once more turning back to the chemicals at hand, making a few notes on a pad of paper. “I was simply curious to the nature of her relationship with you. I’ve never known you to take interest in such primal desires, Edward. What is it about her that fascinates you so?

Edward frowned. There were many, many things that fascinated him about you – the way you carried yourself, spoke, the fire that burned so brightly in your soul that refused to dim, considering all that happened over the last few months. The way you tolerated him, laughed at what he said, gave yourself to him so wholly and completely. The problem wasn’t the answer to the question – the problem was why Jonathan wanted to know.

“What does it matter to you, Crane?” Edward asked, his voice low, concerned. Because he knew when Crane became fascinated with something, fixated on it, he would not let it go.

And if he was becoming fascinated with you…

Jonathan turned back to him again. His scarred lips were pursed into a thin line, but he finally set his pen down and rested his hands on his knees, leaning slightly back in his chair. “I’m simply curious, is all, Edward.”

“She’s not some science experiment you can pick apart,” Edward said, his tone testing.

Jonathan blinked at him, as if what Edward said hadn’t phased him at all. “You care quite a bit for her, Edward,” he said finally after drawing out the silence for a long moment.

Edward shifted slightly, gritting his teeth. “And? Your point?”

“An observation. You and I both know she’s simply your newest obsession, Edward. What will happen when you tire of her?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed into slits, and he frowned, staring down at Crane as hot anger pooled in his stomach, prickling across his skin. Yes, he knew the truth: you were his obsession. The thing he needed, wanted, craved at all hours of the day. But he did not imagine he would ever tire of you. You were like a drug to him, his addiction. And the truth was that he had come to a point where he could not imagine the rest of his life without you in it.

“Or, perhaps, when she tires of you?” Jonathan continued.

“An absurd insinuation,” Edward said, a bite in his voice now. How could you ever tire of him? He was the World’s Greatest Everything. There was not a universe in which you could ever tire of him, Edward was sure of that.

“Come now, Edward,” he said. “No need to be so testy. However, I’ve heard the rumors. People around here like to talk. I know what they call her, what they think of her. When you do tire of her, when you’ve thoroughly ruined her for anyone else in this city to want – what will she do then?”

Edward bristled, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “I don’t see why that’s any concern of yours, Crane,” he said, but his lips twisted in a smirk. “Why? Does it bother you that someone like her would be with someone like me?”

A flame ignited in Edward’s belly, a sick satisfaction twisting there. Of course Crane had to be jealous of his relationship with you. After all, Edward was just that much smarter, much more handsome, much more great. Crane could not compare to him one bit. Edward was everything and better – and he planned to hold that over the man’s head at every turn.

“Not at all,” Jonathan finally answered. “She is your paramour. You do what you like with her. All I intended was to get to know her, understand why a detective like her would with someone like you.”

Edward bristled at Jon’s words, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “Well, Crane, my capacity for self-improvement has grown well beyond what you’re capable of. Watch and learn, and you’ll be just fine.” He smirked at that, a sense of triumph racing through his chest.

“Of course, Edward,” Jonathan said, his voice low and cold. “You are this city’s picture of reform. I will do my best to follow in your footsteps.”

Edward’s smirk grew. “Good. I need to get back to work. Have fun with your chemicals, Crane. Try not to sniff your own toxin too much.” He turned on his heels, giving Jonathan a lazy wave, and headed back down the hall with confidence in his step.

But as he walked, his steps began to slow, and uncertainty twisted in his stomach. Now that he was alone in the silence, Crane’s words began to wash over him. His mind was spinning with questions, wondering why Crane would bother talking to you in the first place – and just what else he might have said that you could be hiding from him. Well, he’d just have to keep a careful eye on Crane, then. Whatever was brewing in the man’s mind, Edward intended to find out. But if it involved you…

Edward’s hands curled into fists. Crane could find you fascinating all he liked, but he would not allow you to become an experiment in his twisted little world of fear. He refused to let that happen – and if Crane asked you one more question that was out of line, Edward would not hesitate to put Crane in his place. If Crane was planning to use his toxin on you, Edward would shove his own toxin in his mouth before he had that chance.

Oh, yes, Edward was certain of that.

Crane could have his fun in any other way that did not involve you. Because, Edward knew with absolute certainty, he would not allow another man to swoop in and take your attention from him. You were his, and his alone, and Crane would just have to accept that you were with a man like him. He could speculate and theorize all he wanted, but Edward would not allow Crane to get under your skin, to make you question your relationship with him. Not when he finally had you, when he held your heart in his hands.

And he would not allow Crane’s ability to incite fear poison your precious heart.

#caesariawrites #also anon please don't apologize!#i am more than happy to write any prompts with these three idiots lol #the riddler #edward nigma #arkham riddler #arkhamverse riddler #arkham scarecrow #scarecrow #scarecrow x you #scarecrow x yn #scarecrow x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma x y/n #edward nigma x you #arkham edward nigma #edward nigma x reader #Cat&Mouse!Verse

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mythicalcowboyatheart · 1 month ago

Text

The Crow and The Robin

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

Jonathan Crane x robin!reader

Warnings: SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), Crane a creep, PWP

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

You work as a vigilante in Gotham alongside Bruce. One day, during a mission alone, you were caught off guard and found yourself being taken down by Scarecrow. You expected a reaction, but he simply looked at you; his eyes were so blue.

he effortlessly spins you around to face him. You fight against his grip and failed.

"I simply must know" he murmured, and then his mask disappeared.

you look him in the eyes "Dr Crane!" You gasp in shock

he smirked at the sound of his name leaving your lips, he knew you would recognize him eventually

"There it is, the sound of fear in your voice. How lovely."

he chuckled as he pinned your arms above your head, straddling you

You struggle against him "no let go! get off me!"

he laughed and pressed his body against yours, pinning you even further

"You know that's not going to happen, darling. Not when I've finally gotten you right where i want you."

"what do you what form me" you ask still trying to get out of his grip.

he gripped your wrists tighter, a dangerous smirk on his face

"I want you in so many ways darling. But first..."

he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear

"I want to see that pretty little face contorted with fear and despair."

"no...no please don't.." you plead fighting in his grip

he chuckled, clearly enjoying the way you begged and fought against him

"Begging won't do you any good, darling. You're mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

he pressed his body harder against yours, his lips grazing the skin of your neck

You gasp as you feel him get hard against you.he smirked against your skin as he heard the gasp, his body reacting to your close proximity

"Feeling a little flustered, darling?"

he whispered, his lips moving up your neck and towards your ear

You whimper slightly "please let me go"

he chuckled again, the sound low and seductive as he pulled away to look at your masked face

"let's get rid of this mask"

"no" you beg

he chuckled again, ignoring your plea.

"I'm not asking, darling. I'm telling you."

he began to slowly pull the mask away from your face, his eyes watching you intently You try to move your head away from him but can't.

he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him

'Stop fighting it, darling. You know you can't win against me."

he continued to slowly pull the mask away, revealing more and more of your face

You closed your eyes as if it would help you hide your face

he smirked as he removed the mask completely, his eyes roaming over your exposed face

"No need to hide, darling, You're absolutely gorgeous."

You open your eye. he chuckled softly as he looked at your face, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized you.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't one of my favorite students."

"please let me go doctor Crane"

he chuckled again, his grip on your wrists tightening as he leaned in close

"And why would I do that, sweetheart? You're right where I want you. At my mercy."

"Bat Man is on his way he wont hold back if he sees you on me like this, let me go i won't tell him who you are" you threat

he sooffs at the mention of Batman, a look of amusement on his face

"Batman? You think I care about him? Please, darling. I've been toying with him for years.

he moves closer, his body pressing against yours again, his lips next to your ear

"No one is going to save you. You're mine now, whether you like it or not."

"why? Why do you want me?"

he pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes as he spoke, his voice low and possessive

"Why do I want you? Because you're the only one who intrigued me, the only one who's ever been able to get under my skin."

he gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face

"You're strong, smart, and beautiful. I've been drawn to you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

"please let me go ill do anything thing tou want ill be yours just let me go"

his smirk widened at your offer, his eyes darkening with desire

"Anything, you say? You'll do anything i want, and you'll be mine?"

You nod "yes as long as you let me go"

he leaned in close, his lips almost touching yours as he spoke, his voice a low whisper

"Very well, darling. I'll make you a deal. I'll let you go... but only if you promise to come back to me willingly."

"okay... okay"

he released your wrists, his hands slowly sliding down your body as he pulled away

"Good girl."

he stepped back, allowing you to sit up but his eyes never left your body.

You pause for a minute realizing theres probably more to what he wants

he chuckled, seeing the realization in your eyes

"Ah, I see you're catching on. Yes, darling, there is more to it than just letting you go."

"what do you want dr Crane?"

he took a step closer to you, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily

"I want to fuck you senseless before you go, so I know you'll come back to me."

Your eyes widen in shock

he chuckled at your expression, enjoying the look of surprise on your face.

"What, did you think I was going to let you go without getting a taste of you first? I've wanted you for too long, darling. And now that I have you.... I'm not letting you go that easily."

"okay...fine."

he smirked, his eyes darkening with lust as he closed the distance between you

"Good girl. Always so willing to please, aren't you?"

You avoid eye contact he chuckled again, tilting your chin up to make you look at him

"Ah ah, don't look away. I want you to look at me while I have you."

You look into his eyes and nod

he smiled, his fingers trailing down your neck and to your shoulder and down your back as he slowly unzips your costume

"That's it, darling. Keep looking at me. I want to see every expression on your beautiful face"

You continue to look in Cranes eyes, your face Turning slightly pink

he notices the flush on your cheeks and grins

"Oh, look at you, getting all flustered already. You're so cute when you blush."

Your face turns a darker shade of pink at this comment. Then your face turns fully red as he finishes unzipping the back

he chuckled again, enjoying the way your face turned red as the costume fell open, revealing more of your skin.

"There we go. Much better."

he slowly slides the costume off your shoulders, his fingers tracing over your skin as he does so

You shiver slightly at the touch.

he smirks at your shiver, his hands continuing to move down your body, now tracing over your stomach and hips

"Are you cold, darling? Or is it something else that's making you shiver?"

You dont respond but instead you remove the rest of the costume reviling a dark red matching bra and pantie set

his eyes darken even more as he takes in the sight of you in your underwear, his hands now roaming over your thighs

"Oh, darling... you look absolutely divine. This is a sight I could get used to seeing."

You rest your arms on his shoulders and start to kiss up his neck

he lets out a low groan as your lips touch his neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tilts his head to give you better access

"Mmm, that's it, baby. Keep doing that..."

You begin to unbutton Jon's shirt and kiss the newly exposed skin

he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you continue to kiss his skin, his hands moving to your waist pulling you closer

"You're driving me crazy, darling. Keep going, and I won't be able to hold back."

"do i make you nervous Dr Crane?" You ask against his skin giveing up on the buttons and ripping his shirt as you kiss from his neck and down his stomach you look up at you through my eyelashes as you get on your knees.

he looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust as you rip open his shirt and kneel before him

"Nervous? No, darling. You make me weak"

he reaches down, running his fingers through your hair, gently tilting your head back to look up at him

You smile and reach to undo his belt not braking eye contact

he lets out a shaky exhale as you start to undo his belt, his grip on your hair tightening slightly

"Good girl. You're such a tease, you know that?"

You laugh and unbutton and unzip his pants, then pull them down to his knees and press soft kisses on his thighs.

he shudders as your lips touch his thighs, his body responding to your touch with a growing need

"Fuck... keep going, baby. Don't stop."

you pull boxers down and watch as his cock springs out of them. You wrap your hand around the base and pump your hand up and down untill his fully hard

he lets out a deep groan, his head tilting back as you take him in your hand, his body trembling with desire

"Oh, God... yes... just like that, darling. Don't stop... don't you dare stop."

You smile as you give a small lick to the tip of Jon's cock

he gasps as your tongue touches his tip his hips jerking slightly in response

"Ah... god, you're going to be the death of me..."

You giggle as you take only the head of his cock in your mouth and slowly suck and lick

he moans loudly, his fingers gripping your hair tightly as you tease him with your mouth

"Goddamn... your mouth feels incredible... don't be a tease, darling.... take more..."

You hum against his cock and take him deeper in your mouth and continue to pump what you cant fit in your mouth with your hand

he lets out a guttural moan, his body trembling as you take him deeper into your mouth

"Yes... just like that... oh, baby... you're doing so good...

he looks down at you, watching as you work his cock with your mouth and hand, his eyes filled with lust and adoration.

You bob your head and move your hand a bit faster

he groans again, his grip on your hair tightening even more as you increase the pace, his breathing becoming ragged and uneven

"Fuck... I'm not gonna last much longer like this... you're too damn good..."

You remove your mouth from his cock but still move your hand

"ware do you want to cum Dr. Crane?"

he groans in frustration as you remove your mouth, but he manages to speak through his ragged breaths

"In... your mouth... I want to come in your pretty little mouth, darling..." you take him back in your mouth and hollow your cheeks.

he lets out a strangled moan as you take him back in your mouth, his body tensing as he feels the pleasure building

"Yes... just like that... I'm so close... so close for you, darling..."

You grab his hand and place it on the back of your head he looks at you for a moment, his eyes dark and filled with desire as he understands what you want him to do. He tangles his fingers in your hair, holding your head firmly as he begins to thrust into your mouth, his movements becoming rough and urgent

he notices the way you grip his thighs, the slight pain sending a thrill through him.

"Mmm, do you like that, darling? Do you like feeling me lose control like this?"

he thrusts harder into your mouth, his breathing becoming more ragged and desperate

You hum and clinch yout thighs together he notices the movement of your thighs and smirks

"Oh, I can tell you're enjoying this just as much as I am, darling. Your body is so responsive to me... so sensitive..."

You hun arouyhin again he moans loudly as you hum around him again, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his body

"You're driving me insane... I'm not gonna last much longer, darling... you're gonna make me come so hard..."

he shudders as you draw shapes on his thighs, the gentle touch almost too much for him to handle

"Fuck... baby... I'm so close... just a little more... I'm gonna come down your throat..."

Your hand that was on his cock moves to massage his balls he lets out a loud, strangled moan as your hand moves to his balls, the added stimulation pushing him even closer to the edge

"Oh god... yes... right there, darling... keep doing that... I'm going to come..."

his body tenses and he lets out a final, guttural moan as he finally reaches his climax, spilling himself down your throat

"Oh... f-fuck... yes... that's it, darling... take it all..."

You swallow his cum and lick his cock clean.

he watches you through hooded eyes, his breathing heavy and ragged as he comes down from his high. He gently runs his fingers through your hair, a satisfied smirk on his face

'Good girl... you swallowed every drop..."

You nod dreamily drunk off cock he chuckles softly, clearly amused by how much you're affected by him

"You look so beautiful like this, darling... so obedient and pliant..."

You unclip your bra his eyes darken with lust as he watches your bra slide off, his gaze fixed on your now exposed chest

"You're absolutely stunning, my love..."

"you can touch me dr. Crane you don't have to be shy" you chuckle

he chuckles softly, his hands slowly moving to cup your breasts

"I'm not being shy, darling... I'm just admiring the view. And I must say, the sight of you like this is quite breathtaking..."

you smile and whisper in his ear "If you think im breathtaking now you should take off my panties and see the rest of me" you bite his neck gently.

he shudders as you bite his neck, a low groan escaping his lips

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? Tempting me like this..."

he runs his hands down your body, slowly pushing your panties down your legs

You step out of them and kick them across the floor "how do you want me Dr. Crane?"

he steps closer to you, his gaze roaming over your body as he takes in every inch of you

"On the desk." He said with a smirk on his face

You smile and hop on the wood desk and spread your legs so Jonathan can see all of you

he steps between your legs, his eyes burning with desire as he looks down at you. He gently runs his hands up your thighs, tracing patterns on your skin as he moves closer to your core.

a shiver gose up you spine he notices the shiver, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues to caress your thighs

"So sensitive... I love it."

You nod he leans down, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your core you push the hair out of his face

he looks up at you through his lashes, a hungry glint in his eyes as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. His lips brush against your inner thigh, so close to where you want him. he grins, enjoying the sound of your whimpers. He then slowly drags his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.

You grip his hair tight he groans as you tug on his hair, the sound sending vibrations through your core. He begins to circle your clit with his tongue, his movements slow and deliberate

You out moan quiet curse words in pleasure as you try not to buck your hips

he chuckles against you, enjoying the effect he has on you. He then pushes his tongue inside you, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place

You moan loudly "FUCK!"

he grins as he continues to work his tongue inside you, lapping at your juices as he pulls you closer to the edge

The grip on his hair get tighter as his nose hits your swollen clit

he groans again, the pressure on his hair sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue moving faster and harder against your sensitive flesh. You moan and begin to fuck yourself on his tongue

he watches you with a feral intensity, loving the way you're using his tongue to chase your pleasure. He grips your thighs tighter, encouraging you to continue

a tear of pleasure rolls down you cheek as you keep fucking yourself on his face "Fuck-"

he groans at the sight of the tear, his own desire growing even stronger. He moves his tongue in syne with your movements, determined to bring you to the brink.

the pleasure is too much and with a choked gasp you cum all over Cranes face

he eagerly laps up your juices, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He continues to gently tease you with his tongue, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible he gently pulls away, his lips and chin glistening with your release. He moves up your body, trailing kisses along your stomach and chest until he reaches your neck. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he grabs a syringe off the desk and jabs it into your neck injecting you with it.

You gasp his name in surprise as your vision becomes blurry.

"Sweet dreams my little Robin"

You hear him say before everything turns black.

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#johnathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #cillian murphy

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