futurefamousdeadmusician

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

I fully forgot I had this .. so here’s a little something for y’all lol

prompt: Jonathan calls you up after having a few drinks

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), mentions of alcohol/intoxication, brief mentions of suicide, subby-ish Jonathan, phone sex, come eating

*not proofread & old as hell*

you’re abruptly awoken by the phone ringing. through squinted eyes, you peak at the clock sitting on top of your nightstand.

1:03 am flashes at you. who’s calling at this hour? you drag your body out of bed and trudge your way over to the living room where your home phone resides. once there, you drop to the couch and grab the phone, putting it up to your ear.

“hello?” you groan, you hear a small snicker on the other end.

“hiii babyyy!” they respond, clearly a little tipsy, you immediately recognize the voice.

it’s jonathan, your close friend, who had recently got placed into a psyche ward after attempting to kill himself. you hadn’t heard from him since he had told you the news. now here he is, ringing your phone at 1 am, while simultaneously dropping a “baby” bomb on you.

“jonathan?” you blurted, feeling yourself become a bit more awake, “what are you doing? why are you up? how do you even have access to a phone right now?”

he sighs into the phone, “me and toby sn- toby’s m’pal .. by the way .. we snuck out ‘n had a few drinks ..” his mumbles, “now ‘m allllll alone ..” he whines, dragging out the all to emphasize his loneliness, “oh ‘n about the phone .. since i’ve been so good they gave me a landline, cordless too, i mean they couldn’t give me a cord ‘cause i might wrap it around my neck, but it’s nifty!”

you roll your eyes. of course he’d do some shit like this. if it was any other friend, you would’ve told them bluntly that you’re not in the mood to talk, but jonathan was an exception right now. he was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, and his comment about wrapping the cord around his neck grounded you back into reality. you decided to chat with him for a while.

“is that so?” you reply, “how’d the night go?”

“fun!” he bubbled, “oh m’god .. me and toby .. my friend .. we saw this piss drunk guy fall in the street!” he giggles while recounting the incident. you giggle with him, not so much at the story, but at the fact that he felt the need to reiterate that he has a friend named toby.

“that sound very funny, jon, but shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

he whines, “‘m not tired! plus i’ve been thinking about you .. that’s why i called .. wanted to hear your voice ..”

oh?

“why’d you wanna hear my voice? you miss me that much?” you joke, relaxing more into the couch. he hums, “jus’ like how it sounds ..”

“well. you woke me up, and i don’t think i’ll be able to go back to sleep, so you’re welcome to listen to my voice for a while.” you chuckle softly, not thinking too heavily about his intentions. he’s drunk, after all.

“hmm ..” he mumbles in approval, “can you jus’ talk? tell me about your day, love ..”

your brows furrow a bit at the request, but you oblige.

“i didn’t do too much .. just showered .. picked up a bit .. it was nice though.”

he groans quietly at you mentioning showering.

“mmh .. wards got no nice soaps .. i like how your soaps smell. always smellin’ so good ..” he murmurs, through the phone you can hear some minor rustling, but you assume it’s just jonathan drunkenly tossing and turning.

you laugh at his odd compliment, “you think i smell nice?”

“oh, i think a lot of you s’nice, darling.” he assures, his breathing becoming heavier

“what else about me is nice, jonathan?” you ask, thinking he’ll say something corny like your humour or your personality.

“that face f’yours .. gorgeous ..” he giggles and huffs, “‘n that body .. maybe it’s ’cause ‘m all alone .. ‘n a bit tipsy .. but i can’t stop thinkin’ about touchin’ you ..”

oh.

you’re not too sure what to say. you’ve been friends with jonathan for years, you would have never assumed that he wanted you that way. jonathan was very attractive, and you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him in a sexual way before.

“jonathan ..” you reply calmly, “i think you’re just drunk and confused, how about we talk more tomorrow? you can call me when-“

he whines, “no, baby, ‘m sorry .. i’ve just wanted you .. for so long ..” he hums as his breathing becomes louder, “‘n now .. just your voice got me s’hard ..”

you pause, listening to jonathan, you still hear the shuffling and his breathing. occasionally he whines a few times, is he touching himself?

“jon, are you .. getting off right now?”

he chuckles, “s’hard .. mmh .. thought i might faint.”

you hate to admit it, but hearing jonathan’s neediness got you a little worked up. knowing he was hard just from your voice ignited some interesting feelings from within you.

as your mind is racing, jonathan speaks, “if i w’s there .. would y’touch me?”

your heart begins to pound, his words have become more direct. he’s not just rambling about how he feels, he wants to know how you feel. you slip one of your hands into your panties, feeling how slick you’ve become from jonathan’s words. you might as well get yourself off as well.

instead of answering, you flip the question. “i’m wondering what you’d do if i was there.” you laugh breathily as you gently rub your clit. jonathan whines into the phone, “god, baby, s’filthy. y’don’t even wanna know ..”

“tell me. i want to hear it.” you pry as you become more aroused, hearing jonathan moan weakly at his own thoughts.

“mmh .. wanna eat your cunt .. make y’come at least once on m’face ..” he groans, “wanna fuck you. raw. make y’shake ‘n cry from my cock. wanna make that cunt feel so so good.”

jesus. really didn’t take much convincing for him to spill his thoughts. you bite your lip at his words, hearing his fantasies made you blush embarrassingly hard.

“hm .. yeah?” you moan into the phone, rubbing your clit at a quicker pace

“‘n i wanna eat you again after my cocks been ‘nside you .. lick up our come ..” jonathan gasps, through the phone you can hear him fisting his now slick cock. “then i wanna kiss you when m’done ..” he adds, chuckling a bit.

“god ..” you sigh, “you are filthy.”

you’re finding it difficult to hold back your moans, you almost want jonathan to hear them at this point.

“you .. you got me all wet, jon ..” you admit a bit awkwardly, you’ve never had phone sex before, but you don’t think jonathan will notice.

he whimpers “are y’touching yourself, baby?”

“yeah .. yeah i am ..” you purr, sliding a finger inside yourself and moaning softly as you plunge it in and out.

“jesus, fuck ..” he huffs, “you rubbin’ your clit? or fingering yourself?”

“i’m doing both .. switchin’ every now and then ..” you coo, adding a second finger inside. you hiss slightly at the change, but your cunt quickly adapts and accepts the second finger.

“mmh!” jonathan moans, “s’hot, knowing you’ve got y’fingers all over that pussy .. you sensitive, baby?”

he’s really into calling you baby. although it feels foreign, you’re not opposed to it at all.

“yeah .. a bit ..” you chuckle breathlessly as you remove your slick fingers out and bring them back to your clit.

“oh, fuck ..” he whimpers loudly, “baby, baby, ‘m not gonna last- m’sorry ..”

you could tell from jonathan’s tone and desperate little whimpers that he was close, he didn’t need to tell you, but it’s kind of nice that he at least let you know.

“that’s okay, come jon. show me how good it feels.” you purr. he can’t physically show you, but he can verbalize it, and he does.

“mmf- fuck, baby, ‘m comin’-“ he moans loudly, you’re worried other people in the ward might hear him.

“that’s it, come on yourself jon, good boy.” you encourage, you’re almost surprised that you called him a good boy, you never expected that to slip out.

his moans dwindle into small little whimpers as he rides out the orgasm, huffing quietly once he’s come down.

“‘m all messy, baby ..” he giggles,

“poor thing, you gonna clean yourself up?” you hum to tease.

“mhm .. nice ‘n clean ..” he mumbles as you hear him making small sucking and licking noises,

“jon, are you licking up your come?” you nearly chuckle at him,

“well no one’s ‘ere to do it for me ..” he whines, continuing to lick away his come.

“jesus. dirty, dirty boy.” you scold playfully, toying with your clit again.

“‘m a dirty boy ..” he repeats while yawning, “dirty boy.”

“you tired?” you ask softly,

“mmh, yeah, little bit ..” he mumbles,

“how about you get some sleep and we talk more tomorrow, all right?”

“mmh.. but i wanna talk ..” he groans,

you laugh weakly at his determination, “i’ll be here tomorrow. trust me. get some sleep. we can talk when you’re more awake and sober.”

“fine .. g’night baby. sweet dreams.” he gives in, yawning again

“sleep well, jonathan.” you close before hanging up. as you place the phone down, you’re left with silence and your thoughts. you decide you might as well get yourself off, and you do, you come in your pants to the thought of jonathan’s whimpers and moans. then, you clean yourself off before heading back to bed.

—

Not to jinx myself … but I am currently writing. Send me good energy yall please

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Psychosomatic | Jonathan Breech x Inpatient!Reader

Warnings: Public Sex, Dub-Con, Pet Names, Cockwarming, Mutual Masturbation, etc.

Author's Note: Just a refurbished idea I wanted to share. Jonathan Breech is a skank, obviously. Enjoy!

“You’re a pretty one, yeah?” Jonathan said, staring at you from the driver’s side of his stolen convertible. He managed to find an empty parking lot behind a pub. The air was brisk. Your heart was beating out of your chest and his words nearly stopped it. You two just broke out of a mental institution—it was Jonathan’s idea completely. The consequences included solitary confinement and a lifetime membership at the institute. You were happy to see the outside, but you were deathly afraid of being caught. 

Sensing your anxiety, he put his hand on your thigh and kneaded it gently. His palm was soft and warm. Jonathan dreamt of caressing your smooth legs every time you wore your pajama shorts. It was hard to ignore his piercing gaze when you removed that frumpy sweater once in a blue moon. You were away from prying eyes. He had you all to himself. To him, this was kismet. 

Leaning in closer, he kissed your jawline. You whimpered and turned away. You were attracted to him, but all you could think about was that traumatic incident that landed you in the institution in the first place. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Jonathan inquired. 

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry for leading you on. I’m not meant for this sort of thing.” You admitted, tearing up. 

“We don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to. I just wanted to feel you up a bit, “s all.”  He explained. 

You remembered that you only went to 3rd base with a guy in Year 5. He was not experienced at all and he was the only one who got to finish. You swore you were getting a pap smear. Would it really hurt to try again with a guy who seemed like he cared? 

“Fine. Touching and kissing only, Jon.” You relented. 

“Fine with me, doll.” He agreed. 

This time, he kissed your lips tenderly. They were as soft as you imagined. You kissed him back hesitantly while he moved his hand to buttons of your pajama shirt. He undid each one without looking as if he planned this.  With no bra underneath, the cool air made your nipples harden. His warm hands found one of your breasts. His kissing became more impassioned as his thumb flicked the delicate sprout. You moaned sweetly and touched his crotch. You were stunned to feel a throbbing hard-on. Pulling away, Jonathan stared at you with carnal eyes.  

“See what you’ve done to me, darlin’? ” He agonized, rutting against your hand. 

You shyly slid your hand in his pants and wrapped your fingers around his shaft. Growing impatient, he pulled his pants down slightly and began moving your hand up and down. 

“C’mon, we don’t have all day, love.” Jonathan urged. 

You moved his hand and pumped slowly. You made sure to squeeze a bit tighter when you would meet the tip. You saw his plump lips part as an enchanting moan left his throat. You felt wetness gather in between your legs. Feeling a bit courageous, you spit in your hand and continued your movements. His piercing blue eyes fluttered closed. 

“Fuck…I’m already close.” Jonathan hissed. You kissed him to hush him up. This time, you nipped at his bottom lip and slipped your tongue in his mouth. Jonathan whimpered in response. Pumping faster, you began nibbling on his earlobe. His hand found your breast once more. You slid your hand into your shorts and began rubbing your clit. He suddenly snatched your hand away and stared at you with dark eyes. 

“I’m sick of waitin’, yeah? Get in the back.” He demanded, slapping your thigh lightly. You went to follow his orders and laid on the backseat. Following behind you, he removed what was left of your clothing. You shivered at the cool autumn air. Seemingly unaffected, he teased the tip of his dick against your entrance before sliding in. You moaned loudly and arched your back. Pressing his forehead against yours, he thrusted harshly and held the back of your head. His gorgeous bore into yours. 

“I…I can’t take it.” You whimpered. 

“Yeah?” He teased, thrusting deeper. The burn from the unfamiliar feeling started to subside. He fucked any remaining defiance out of you. 

“I’m all yours, Jon.” You moaned, tears welling up in your eyes. 

He kissed you sweetly and dug his fingernails into your hips. Shockwaves of bliss were sent through your body with each movement. Your moans became screams as Jonathan rutted into you desperately. You cycled through countless orgasms before he flipped you over. Entering you once more, he pressed your face into the seat. 

“Fuck, stay just like that.” He panted. You cried out at his merciless actions. You suspected he was using you as a way to release his anger. His thrusts staggered as finished inside of you. A loud groan left his throat. His eyes rolled back and his entire body shook. Lying down with you, he pulled you close and held you tightly. He kissed your shoulder lovingly. 

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

This is TOOO GOOOOD

BABY GIRL

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson likes to keep you doped up for both of your safety.

Warnings - Non-con, dub-con, drugging, manipulation, degrading, p in v, edging.

Word count - 1.9k+

Notes - Guess who wanted to work on one of her WIP's but decided to watch Red Eye and just had to write another one about my favourite boy.

You laid on the bed, completely naked against his body, he only wore his boxers, your left leg draped over his hips, his hand slowly caressing your back as your face was pressed up against his lean bare chest. 

The audio of the television was muffled, your sight blurred as you slowly breathed in and out. The sheets were hardly covering your flesh, but you were too dazed to pay attention to it. The sensation of his large fingers caressing your tender skin was enough to earn gentle moans from your soft lips. His cold blue eyes watched you like a hawk. Almost skeptical that you would commence a ploy against him, despite your doped state. 

Jackson Rippner was fascinated by you. The moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his. It was unfortunate with the circumstances you met under. Star crossed lovers in his opinion, a bit of a spiced uniqueness to your relationship.  

You were assigned to investigate him for terrorism. Many times you were warned about your high levels of ambition, your eagerness put you in danger. But you were always too stubborn to listen to your superiors. 

“Jackson” you murmured against his chest, almost drooling. He sighed lightly, his hand rubbing circles around your lower back. 

“Yes baby?” He asked softly, there was silence for a brief moment. Jackson waited patiently for you to respond as you raised your heavy head. 

“Are you going to keep me drugged up forever” you slowly questioned, your eyes ached to stay open, your thoughts blurred with sweet nothings. 

There was this blank, emotionless stare from him. As he was questioning himself, he really did wonder what he’d do with you in the long run. The thought of him keeping you mindless for the rest of your days made the blood rush to his cock. Only being mentally capable to muse the thought of him touching, fucking, loving you. 

But then he also wanted to take you out for an expensive dinner, vacate at a ski resort, hold you from behind as you cook him a loving homemade meal. Jackson never considered himself a romantic, but different people create a better you. The idea of having a life as one together made his heart flutter. 

“No baby girl” he answered eventually. 

“When will you stop” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips, a thread of hope. There was a small grin on his lips as his hands gently rubbed your hips. 

“When I know you’ll be a good girl for me” Jackson mocked, pulling you completely over his hips to saddle him. 

“I am a good girl” you countered, your head felt heavy yet your thoughts light. 

“Because you’re drugged up” he laughed softly, his large hand caressing your cheek as your face fell limp on him. 

“Touché” you snorted and he patted your cheek a couple of times. Sluggestly, you lifted your head back up, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Please sir, I promise to be good” you assured, but your small smile was all so devilish. 

That title always got the blood flowing to his cock. You could already feel his size growing underneath you. 

“Really? You cross your heart, hope to die, type of promise?” Jackson razzed, flashing you a toothy grin as his fingers slowly moved closer to your core.

“Yes sir” you promised, batting your eyes towards him. 

“Oh baby girl, how can I be so sure?” He toyed, titling his head to you. 

The scratches on his face were faint. Whenever he sobered you up, you were quick to get in every shot you could at him. However, you were foolish not to carefully plan out your scheme to escape, or as you preferred to do, attempting to kill him. 

“Because I love you cock Jacky” you moaned, his fingers toying with your clit. 

Within a blink, Jackson had flipped you onto your back. Holding your throat down against the mattress and huffing, flaring his teeth at you. “What did I tell you?” He snarled, his thumb rubbing over your chin.  

“You hate being called Jacky” you choked out, but you were still grinning at him. 

“And I thought you wanted to be a good girl” he pouted to you. 

“I do” you almost sang, coughing at the restriction to your throat. 

“Fix your mistake then” Jackson ordered calmly. 

“Because I love your cock, sir” you choked out, emphasizing the correction. With the release of your throat, Jackson sighed. 

“That’s a good whore” Jacksont grinned at you, flexing his hips forward. You pouted to him. “My good whore” he corrected himself, dropping his lips onto your neck.

It was pointless, trying to deny the sensation Jackson always brought over your body. It was too much effort to try to hide the pleasure he always bathed you in. 

This is where you belonged, underneath him, figuratively and literally. 

In small circular motions, his tongue swished over your heated skin, his hands ran slowly up and down your torso, his fingers playfully scratching at your nerves, his stubble tickled you. Your arms gradually enveloped around his back, your fingernails scraping at his skin lightly. 

“I’ll always take care of you baby girl. You know that right?” Jackson asked as he pushed his boxers down enough to free his throbbing length. 

“Yes, Jackson” you breathed out, laying your head back carelessly. 

“Could have gotten you killed, interfering with my business, like a little fucking brat. But I saved you…” Jackson grinned as he lined himself up with your gushing entrance.  

“No Jackson” you shook your head, moaning out softly as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

“Who are you lying to?” Jackson snorted as he rested himself completely inside of our canal.

“This isn’t living” you countered, your hands rising up to the back of his neck, your legs raising up to your hips in unison.

Jackson couldn’t help but to laugh as his hips snapped back and forward. His lower lip was stuck in between his teeth as he searched for the perfect pace and speed.

“For someone who is constantly high, you sure as hell are conscious” he remarked, his hands holding onto your sides.

“I was always smarter than you” you murmured, biting onto your lower lip. 

Jackson laughed gently as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. 

“Yet look at where you are now. Be my good girl, I want to spoil you rotten. Don’t you want those things?” He toyed, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud. 

“Yes Jackson” you answered emotionlessly. 

Most of the time it was easier to give him what he wanted, your complete submission. You were always so weak, tired, feeling out of body. The effect his touch had on your body was the biggest punishment. If you weren’t always so high, you’d be heavily humiliated with how badly you craved him. The control he had over your body was frightening, he was your puppeteer, always pulling on your strings despite how desperately you tried to cut yourself free. 

“I want to give you the world” he professed as he found the perfect rhythm to fuck you to. 

“I want to kill you” you whined out, face twitching as the high stimulation took over full steam ahead.

“No you don’t, you could never do such a thing” he mumbled, his hands pinning yours above your head. 

“But I’ve tried” you groaned as he hit your cervix. 

“And that’s okay” he assured you, kissing you in a sloppy manner as if to comfort your distressed thoughts. “You’re learning to be my good girl, yeah?” Jackson asked, teasing your bundle of nerves as he kept your pleasure swimming by the edge. 

“Yes Jackson” you shamefully admitted, your eyes swelled with tears as his thrusts became more painful. 

His mouth fell open into a large smirk at the sight of you crying. It was one of his favorite looks of yours. Over mere seconds, your tears formed into a stream as you sobbed underneath him. The clarity of your predicament washed over you once more. 

“Yeah, you’re so fucking pathetic. Acting like a tough, stuck up bitch. But you’re nothing but a little whore for cock, my cock to be precise” he grunted, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing size.

The sounds of your troubled moans always felt like a melody to him. The mixture between your logical and sensual thoughts left you in shame. Jackson kissed you deeply, your mouth was wide open but you refused to kiss him back. The taste of your tears made him growl like a wolf.

“Fuck, your director would be so disappointed in you. Everyone thinks you’re fucking dead. So get the stupid thoughts of breaking free out of that little mind of yours” he sneered, his free hand holding your chin in place as you tried to turn your head to the side. 

“Stop talking Jackson” you whimpered, desperately trying to focus on the pleasure and not his taunting words. 

“No one is looking for you. I have no tails, nobody cares about me. Only you did, you felt it too from the beginning, just like I did, our connection” he grinned as his balls slapped against your entrance. 

“Shut up Jackson” you whined as you felt your climax build. 

But Jackson loved watching you cry. It was amusing to watch your emotional strength crash, it was pleasing to look at your humiliation. A wonderful reminder of how reliable you are on him. Jackson loved to pull your strings around, to keep you on your hands and knees as he yanked you across the dirt. 

“Bet you wanted me to steal you away from your useless life. Now your biggest stress is wondering how many times you’ll get to squeeze my cock each day” he moaned out, kissing your tears away. 

“Shut the fuck up Jackson!” You screamed out as loud as you could, your weak body thrashed under him but it quickly left you exhausted. 

“Someone’s getting sober” Jackson pointed out with a grin, holding you down effortlessly. “Might just keep you tied up instead, I like your screams” he winked to you. 

“Please stop, please, please” you begged repetitively as he continued to fuck you senselessly. 

“Then tell me what I want to hear” he sighed, his hand combing back his damp hair from the sweat that trailed down his forehead.

“N-no” you shook your head, you could feel him twitch rapidly inside of you.  

You knew exactly what he wanted you to say. It was the thing you hated doing most. He always wanted you to say it when you were so close to finishing. 

“Please” he toyed, playfully begging you as he kept your built orgasm dangling from the edge.  

“Come on baby girl, make me feel good” he grunted as he smacked your rear. 

There was another weak shake of your head so Jackson held his body still inside of you. Pathetically, just like he always described you as, you whined out at the pressure built in your core. All you wanted to do right now was come undone, feel something good in this torture. But Jackson stared at you sternly, menacingly. His hands pressed down on your hips as you tried to rock yourself around him. 

“I-I love you” you admitted, your cheeks beet red. 

Instead of fucking you senselessly like you assumed he would. Jackson pulled himself out and jerked himself over you. Quickly, his white ropes of semen sprayed over your sweaty stomach. You panted, looking at the mess he made on you as your distressed expression made him chuckle silently. 

“I love you too” he replied blankly. 

As you caught your weak breath, Jackson laid his body on top of yours, his fingers touched your sensitive core, gently teasing you. You moaned out, ready to do anything to free yourself of your painful climax. 

“But so, drugged or tied?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow to you.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Peaky Blinders (2013 - 2022)

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

im right tho

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

this is literally the hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life. i am just sitting here watching it over and over and over and over again… ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY BRAIN TO HANDLE.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

A few transparent spring-dividers for you to use! (I made them with canva, hihi) 🌷

I would appreciate a like/reblog, if you save! ♡

(P.S. tumblr messes up the quality, if you open them, they look better! 😭)

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

“You have my sword” said the Ranger. “And my Bow” said the elf. “And my axe” said the dwarf. “And all of my guns” said the American.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

I swing both ways ;)

Violently. With a bat. Come get some motherfuckers.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

CILLIAN MURPHY as JONATHAN CRANE BATMAN BEGINS (2005) dir. Christopher Nolan

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

crane's paradox.

for dr. j. crane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

jonathan.

for dr. j. crane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My girl,

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

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

I love you always, Jonathan.

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

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

Just for you.

x.

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

ɴsғᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ - ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ

Jonathan Crane x AFAB!reader

Behold the NSFW alphabet for Jonathan Crane.

warnings: smut, mentions of kinks, descriptions of kinks/sex

author’s note: I've seen people do these for a lot of characters/ people I have loved over the years, so I decided it was time I did my own. Obviously, none of this is canon, it's just my imagination lol. I'm still shadowbanned on my main tumblr, so I guess I'll be hanging out here for a while. But I'm still on that tumblr daily! Thanks for all your support (':

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Despite his desire to be rough or detached during sex, Jonathan always ensures you’re cared for and comforted afterward. This includes a warm bath if needed, some cuddling (if he really cares for you), and helping you clean up. If Jonathan has an attachment to you, he’ll spend the rest of the session just hugging up to you and telling you how good you did.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Jonathan loves your legs- from your ankles to the apex of your thighs. He can't get enough of them, whether they’re wrapped around his waist, on either side of his head, or on his shoulders. Jonathan will bite and squeeze your thighs, often leaving marks and bruises. He’ll kiss up your calves and knees during missionary (which is rare unless he has taken a liking to you). On his own body, he guesses his torso or arms. They’re not too lanky or too buff, they’re a nice in-between. Jonathan’s body is lean and fit; he thinks it’s ideal enough. He’d rather focus on your body in general.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Jonathan is such a cum slut. He’ll make sure to take all of you when he eats you out, licking and lapping at you until every drop is accounted for. Sometimes, if he’s feeling kinky enough, he’ll spit it into your mouth and let you spit it back into his. Jonathan also loves watching you swallow his cum or watch you take his load on your face. It causes him to get worked up all over again, no matter how spent he is. He enjoys cumming inside you, too. It’s one of his favorite things, especially when hitting it raw. 

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory)

Jonathan has a panty kink. He will steal your underwear any chance he can get, which is often. You pretend you don’t notice your favorite pairs going missing after visiting him, and you eventually feed into his addiction. He just loves your scent and the feel of the lace or cotton of your underwear between his fingers. Many would find this gross, but Jonathan finds it hot.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Jonathan definitely knows what he’s doing, even if he acts oblivious to most things. He lost his virginity at a reasonable age and has had many partners who have taught him just about everything he knows. Some stuff he’s learned on his own, though. Jonathan takes good care of you in the bedroom, making sure you’re just as pleased as him every time.

F= Favorite position

This man loves doggy through and through. Sure, missionary (if he likes you) and laying on your side feel good, but slamming his cock into you as deep as he can go from behind? Doggy is chef's kiss, in Jonathan’s opinion. He could ram into you forever, feeling you clench around him as his tip hits your cervix dead on. It never gets old.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Jonathan isn’t really a goofy person anyway, so he isn’t goofy during sex, either. Sure, if a mishap occurs, he may crack a smile, but other than that, he’s composed. 

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He keeps himself pretty neat hair-wise. He’s trimmed but not clean-shaven- he thinks it’s a tad too much work. Besides, a little hair isn’t going to hurt anyone.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Jonathan likes it hot and dirty most of the time. He’ll get rough and grab you by the throat or grip your body with a vice, making sure you can’t move. Jonathan will take you against a wall, in the bed until the headboard breaks, and in the office bathroom if a quickie is needed. Every time is rough enough for you to be sore the following day. As I’ve mentioned a few times, if Jonathan has feelings for you, he doesn’t mind a little romance. He’ll be gentle and look you in the eye as he fucks you, his eyes full of wonder and endearment. 

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Jonathan used to rely on getting himself off just about every day until you stumbled into his life. Now, he doesn’t really think much of it unless you ask him to do it in front of you. Other than that, he has you to let out his sexual frustration.

K= Kink (kinks what they like, possibly unusual)

Boy, oh boy. Spitting, choking, blood, knife/gun, light bondage (sometimes actual bondage if Jonathan’s in a mood), spanking, slapping, hair-pulling, biting, fear (of course), cum-swapping/eating, degrading, the list goes on. I feel like Jonathan would enjoy exploring things with you. 

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Jonathan loves having sex with you quite literally anywhere he can. Preferably the bed where it’s comfortable, but if you’re in public or at work, he’ll take you to the bathroom. If he needs you immediately while at home, he’ll pin you against the wall or fuck you on the couch. Sometimes, the counter as well if it’s the spur of the moment.

M= Motivation (things that make them tick/turn-ons)

Seeing your legs, any time you’re confident in yourself, pulling his hair, biting his ear, you being afraid/ terrified, when you’re walking around the house naked (even if for a moment, he spares you nothing), seeing you happy or angry.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

Any body fluids other than spit, blood, or cum, torture to the full extent isn’t his thing (he doesn’t want to actually hurt you), full-on public play isn’t something he’s into either, but semi-public play is something he’s cool with.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Jonathan is magical with his mouth, so you’re always up for oral. He can work his tongue like none other and give the right amount of attention everywhere. He also loves it when you’re taking him with your mouth, gagging and crying around his length. Jonathan could thrust into your throat forever and be content. Jonathan, overall, enjoys both giving and receiving.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He is pretty quick in his movements, especially when he’s feeling unhinged. Jonathan will not be merciful when he’s feeling this way either, he will grab you somewhere on your body and use you like a toy and fuck you senseless. He can go numerous rounds, so he can last hours sometimes. This is a blessing and curse, depending on your libido.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Jonathan (as I’ve said) will totally fuck you while you’re both at work in the bathroom or sometimes in a closet at a friend’s house if you attend dinner together. Even at home, if you’re both in the mood for something quick, the kitchen counter is notorious for your quickie rendezvous. Jonathan always goes fast and hard with your quickies. There’s nothing slow or romantic about them.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Between the two of you, there’s always something new going on in the bedroom. Sometimes, you’ll stumble upon something that interests you, and it’s the same for Jonathan. Most of the things he’s into, he knows he’s into them because he’s tried them with you. You’re constantly challenging him to try new things in the spur of the moment, too. One time, you asked Jonathan to tie up your hands with his tie because you thought he looked really good in it that day. Now you’ve graduated to handcuffs. It took some convincing and trust-checking for you to finally let him try to fear toxin on you, and even though it was terrifying, it was the best sex you’ve ever had.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

God, this man can go several rounds and can go for hours like the Energizer Bunny. Every round differs in duration depending on how quickly you cum and how quickly he does as well. It also depends on how worked up you both get with every round.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Oh boy. Jonathan loves using different toys on you, especially the Hitachi. He will make you spread your legs on the bed and put it against your clit as he sits and watches from across the room. Sometimes, he’ll use a bunny to spice things up, pushing in and out of you at a snail’s pace, much to your disliking. He is hesitant to let you use toys on him, but you’ve brought up the idea of a vibrating cock ring, to which he said he’d think about it. 

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves?)

As I mentioned, Jonathan has tortured you (not literally) with toys, teasing, and new kinks. His favorite thing is teasing you until you’re overly wet and turned on, squirming for his touch. Jonathan also loves being teased, but only sometimes. He has to be in the mood for it, or else he’ll just get pissy.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Jonathan gets loud when the sex is really feral, which is most of the time. He’ll grunt in your ear and speak dirty words into it as he stutters and moans from how tight you are around him. He’ll praise you over and over and say your name like a mantra when he’s coming down from his high. There’s nothing Jonathan loves more than speaking your name as you milk him dry.

W= Wild card (random sin cannon of any sort)

Strip poker. Or stripping while playing any game, really. As odd as it sounds, Jonathan likes to play this, especially with chess. You aren’t too good at it, but you’re learning. So, of course, you’re the one to strip most of the time. Sometimes, the two of you will play actual poker, and you usually beat him, making him grumble as he takes off an article of clothing. Usually, this is your kinkiest kind of sex because of the slow build.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Jonathan is fairly average while soft, but when he’s hard, he’s pretty big. Not big enough to hurt, but big enough to make you full and miss that fullness when he pulls out of you. He knows how to use his cock properly in a way that it won’t bruise you unless he’s feeling violent or you want him to hurt you. Then he’s like an animal with what’s in his pants.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Jonathan yearned for you for so long before you finally had interaction, both platonic and sexual. He would touch himself to the thought of you until he had the real thing. So, for the first few months of your relationship (or whatever this is), he was borderline addicted to exploring you and your body. His sex drive level was insane and still is sometimes. Like I’ve said, man could go for hours, especially if it’s with you.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after? if so, how quickly after)

For Jonathan, sex either energizes him or knocks him the fuck out, all depending on how wild you get. Suppose it’s a rough session. In that case, he’ll curl up with you to his chest and fall asleep almost immediately following your aftercare. It’s cute. Sometimes, you’ll watch him sleep and realize that maybe you love him, and maybe he loves you too.

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist @sstar-ggirl @mypoisonedvine @queenshelby @babybluebex @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @october-atoner @starbxnny @llucky-llove @annasuifairydance @ynisthatyou @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles @madlittlecriminal @acapelladitty @cranesbathtowel

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

what if Jonathan Crane likes to dress up in other costumes? he's a NERD. does he cosplay? i want to see him wear the batsuit >:I

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Peaky Blinders Season 1 | Episode 2

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

prof!crane x student!reader

they haven’t fucked in a while because of summer break or something and when they finally see each other again in college reader’s getting attention from a lot of guys and crane gets super jealous something along those lines, i just your imagination more than mine! <3

smut ofc ;)

thank u lovey 💌

Yesssss I love Professor!Crane and I love this idea hehe 👀 I decided to go with one really annoying guy giving reader attention instead of a bunch, because that's just the way the muse ended up taking me. Thank you for requesting, anon, and I hope you enjoy!!

Independent Variable

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After you catch the eye of an unwanted admirer in Dr. Crane's class, your professor happily teaches you a lesson about just who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, possessiveness, jealousy, harassment (not from Crane, but a pushy student in reader's class), okay Crane is kinda a jerk as well but like when is he not...

A/N: This fic is part of a series of oneshots set in the same AU. However, there is no real plot aside from Crane and the reader being horny, so you can read them in any order, skip around, etc.

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

You tossed a notebook onto your desk, and leaned back down to rustle through your bookbag, looking for a pen. As you did, you felt your dress ride up in the back, but made no move to adjust it.

“Hey,” said a voice behind you.

You shot up quickly and spun around, embarrassment flooding your cheeks at the thought of the unfamiliar man standing there, catching a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Your shoulders relaxed as you got a real look at him. The student in front of you looked like he might have just rolled out of bed, despite the fact that this was a 2pm class. His eyes were half-lidded as he gestured at the seat next to you, and you shook your head with a small, friendly smile.

“No, go ahead,” you replied.

As you both settled into your seats, you reminded yourself to pay more attention to your surroundings. Your thoughts had been wandering, almost without noticing it, to your professor. 

Dr. Crane had been on your mind for the entirety of spring break, and being back in his class now was making it even harder to focus on anything else. 

You snuck a brief look at him now, sitting quietly at the front of the room. He was hunched over, grading a stack of papers while he waited for the rest of your classmates to trickle in. It had been only a little over a week since you’d last seen him - and he had given you quite an intimate send-off to make sure you kept him in mind over spring break. But, unfortunately for you, it had only made sure that you’d had nothing but Dr. Crane on your mind for the whole week. Rather than satisfy you, his extra attention only increased your desire. This was your final class of the day, and you’d made plans to see him right after, as you usually did.

“Hey, did you just transfer into this class?” asked the boy next to you. You swiveled around to face him, slumped in his seat and smiling at you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“No, I’ve been here,” you said curtly, though trying not to let too much annoyance creep into your voice. You weren’t really interested in light conversation, but it wasn’t his fault for trying to be friendly.

“Really,” droned the boy. It was less of a question than an advance. “I woulda thought I’d have noticed someone like you.”

Okay, maybe he was slightly less-than-innocent. And entirely too friendly, if you weren’t just imagining the hint of suggestion in his voice. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, suddenly regretting the fact that you’d let him sit next to you.

“Is this your first class with Professor Crane?” he continued.

“Um, no…” you replied, not really wanting to keep the conversation going, but somehow already too trapped to just ignore him.

“Heh, poor you,” said the boy. “I hear he’s the type that likes to fuck people over.”

You had to bite back a laugh. Somehow you doubted that any of Crane’s other students were getting “fucked over” in exactly the same way you were.

When you glanced over again at your professor, his eyes met yours briefly before darting back down to the stack of papers in front of him. The lingering frost of his stare made your toes curl.

“I like his classes,” you hummed, wary of letting your voice take on too much of the airy, dream-like quality that it often did when you thought about Crane. “I find them… stimulating.”

“Brave girl. You must be smart, huh?”

Before you had a chance to answer, Dr. Crane called the class to attention. As he launched into his welcome-back speech - short and to the point before he got on with the actual lesson - you let out a sigh of relief. You were thankful that this particular awkward interaction would be brief. After this class, you were never going to let this guy sit next to you again.

Ten minutes into the lecture, though, you felt a hand brush over your arm.

“Hey,” breathed the guy, his voice hissing all too close to your ear. “Do you have an eraser? I forgot mine.”

You hummed, too low for him to hear it, but with your teeth grating in anger. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? His hand rested on your arm, and you wanted to pull back and shake it off. Instead, you straightened your back and kept your eyes facing forward.

“No,” you spit back. “I take notes in pen.”

“Ooh, you are smart,” the boy teased, his tone somewhere just past the point of sincere flattery. “Don’t make any mistakes, do you?”

Your teeth mashed together a bit more.

“No wonder you sit in the front row-”

Your one-sided conversation was disrupted, abruptly, by a firm hand slamming down on each desk. You and the boy looked up together, to see Dr. Crane looming over you.

“Is there a problem here?” Crane asked.

“Uhh… no sir,” the boy answered. 

You felt molten heat start to pool in your lap, weaving its way in between your legs. As your eyes trailed up the sleeve of his suit, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself slipping it off of Dr. Crane’s shoulders and throwing it into a corner of the room. This really wasn’t the time or place, much less the ideal situation to be fantasizing in. But the hint of strained possessiveness in his voice had shaken all other thoughts from your head.

“Let’s try to keep personal conversations to a minimum during class,” Crane suggested. He slinked back to his post at the lecturer’s podium.

You almost wanted to fan yourself with your notebook, but resisted the urge. Beside you, the boy let out a petulant grunt, and buried his face in his notes.

As much as you tried to focus on the lesson, you couldn’t help but notice every time Crane’s eyes strayed over to you, studying and astute. Usually he tried not to be so obvious about it. But you caught him staring at you so many times that you started to feel nervous that the rest of the class would notice it too. Somewhere deep in your chest, the thought made your heart flutter.

Unfortunately, you also noticed the multiple times the boy next to you poked and nudged you - always just subtly enough that you couldn’t call him out. His elbow touched yours as he turned to a new page. His foot drifted over to bump gently against the side of your bag on the floor. It was enough to drive you up a wall, but not enough to make a scene.

When class ended, finally, you all but shoved your notebook into your bag, and shot up from your seat like it was on fire. Somehow, Crane was faster than you, and you caught a glimpse of him slipping out of the room as you hurried to follow after.

“Hey! Wait up,” called the guy sitting next to you.

Shit. Not him again. You walked faster, stepping out into the hallway and darting around other students who were still milling about as you made your way to Crane’s office. You were supposed to meet him there, and you really wished you wouldn’t have an annoying little tagalong with you by the time you arrived.

“Where’re you going?” pestered an all too familiar voice.

You didn’t answer, and kept yourself focused on making it to Crane’s office. The walk wasn’t long, but when you arrived there was no sign of Crane. His door was open, though, and you hurried the last few steps to reach it.

“Hey!” the guy called behind you, again. Couldn't he take a hint?

You felt his hand on your arm, and this time you nearly did yank it away. The sheer shock of being touched stopped you, though, and you whirled around to face him, practically seething. The petulant look on his face fueled your anger, and you opened your venomous mouth to speak just as he interrupted you.

“You’re being so rude!” he complained. “I’m just trying to talk to you.”

That sent your brain for a spin. You were the one being rude? When he had just spent an entire class harassing you? You opened your mouth again, but this time, you didn’t have to speak.

“Have you considered that maybe she just isn’t interested in talking to you?”

You would recognize that slightly smug voice anywhere, and you were incredibly glad to hear it. Instantly, your shoulders relaxed as you looked up to see Crane, a piping hot mug in one hand as he idly bobbed a teabag up and down with the other.

“Wh-what?” the annoying boy stammered. 

“Is something the matter?” Crane continued, not bothering to acknowledge the question. “I can’t say I appreciate you interrupting my lesson with your unfortunate attempt at… well, whatever it is you were trying to do.”

Clearly at a loss, the boy’s grip on your arm weakened as he tried to come up with a response. You tried to keep yourself from smiling. Too obviously, anyway. And just past the point where the silence had started to stretch into hopelessness, Crane spoke again.

“Well. If you wouldn’t mind moving, I have a private tutoring session to attend with your classmate here.” He gestured at you. “And you’re blocking my door.”

The boy stepped back, finally letting go of your arm in the process. His scowl was a poor retort to the authority that Crane seemed to exude even as he took a disinterested sip of his tea. You felt something stir inside you again, and you suddenly couldn’t wait to get behind closed doors with your professor. Not just because it meant getting away from this situation. And certainly not for a tutoring session.

“Thank you,” Crane said politely.

He ushered you into his office, careful not to touch you in any overt ways. But even as his hand lingered a few inches away from the small of your back, you could practically feel the energy passing between you. He was so going to get it as soon as that door was closed.

“And next time,” Crane said, turning briefly to shut the door, “I’m docking five points from your grade for every disruption in class.”

With a quick click, the door closed, and you were finally left alone with your professor. You could hear a harsh swear and the stomp of angry feet in the hallway, as the boy from class sulked away. You smiled, and took a step closer to Crane.

“Thank you,” you sighed. “You have no idea how I-”

You’d started to bring your arms up to wrap loosely around his shoulders, but Crane stopped you before you could, to your surprise. Hooking a finger under your chin, he forced you to stop short and looked at you shrewdly.

“I see you made a new friend over spring break,” he observed.

“Ugh. Yuck - no,” you laughed, still trying to wiggle closer so that you could hug him. “That guy was so annoying.”

“Annoying, hm?” Crane hummed. “Maybe I’ll have to start using assigned seats.”

He dropped your chin, and brushed past you while taking a sip of his tea. As he set the mug down on his desk, you spun around to see him settle into his huge leather office chair. You followed, swaying your hips a bit to tease him.

“Just as long as you keep me in the front row,” you said, half-jokingly. 

“Yes, we wouldn’t want you getting distracted by anyone else, now would we?” Crane droned. 

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, he looked up and crooked a finger at you, beckoning you to come closer. You did, and just as you came to a stop in front of him, Crane grabbed your wrist.

“Actually, I think I might have to move your seat a bit closer than that,” he mused.

Just as you were about to question what could be closer to him than the front row, he turned you around and pulled you down into his lap, making the hair on the back of your neck bristle as he pressed the side of his face against yours.

“After today, I’m starting to think that I’ll need to keep a closer eye on you,” Crane whispered huskily.

As his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer, you squirmed.

“I wasn’t doing anything, though,” you protested. “It was all him.”

It occurred to you that you didn’t even know the rude boy’s name, and the thought made your cheeks heat up. Would that make Crane more annoyed, or less? He must have seen how bothered you were by the unwanted advances in class. Clearly, he was just teasing you, as he so often loved to do. But… what if he really was jealous, and thought you would flirt with anyone who gave you attention?

Slowly, you became aware of a growing bulge, now pressing up into your thigh. Okay, maybe you liked jealous Crane…

“You don’t really think that anything would happen between me and that guy, do you?” you gasped, playing up the shock in your voice.

You felt your back press fully into his chest as he tightened his arms again, pulling you in.

“Do you know what kind of game you’re playing?” Crane scowled behind you.

You did, and you knew that he knew it, too. Just like you knew he was fully aware that you were only playing dumb. But, that had never stopped either of you from having a bit of fun with it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you sighed, grinding your hips down as your head leaned back to rest on his shoulder.

“Maybe I’ll have to show you then.”

With that, Crane’s hand pushed up the hem of your skirt, swiftly pressing past the fabric of your panties to rub at your slit.

“You’re wet,” he growled. “This had better be from me.”

You didn’t even try to hide the shiver that moved down your spine and straight to his cock, making your hips twist against him again. The armrests of his chair were the only thing available to brace yourself against, and you clutched at them.

Crane swirled his fingers against you again, his other arm keeping you pinned to his lap, and you lost the fight to hold back a shaky breath.

“Already worked up,” he observed. “Were you even paying attention in class?”

“Y-yes,” you insisted.

“Hm.”

Crane forced his hand into the very limited space between your body and his, quickly freeing himself and pressing his now fully-erect cock in between your legs. As you felt it brush against your thighs, you couldn’t help but buck your hips, trying to get a better angle. Crane stilled you, bringing his lips close to your ear as he held you in place.

“Somehow I doubt you were really focusing on the lecture,” he said. “So, I think you and I will have to go over it again. But first…”

He held your panties to the side, repositioning so he could slide himself fully inside of your cunt. It was embarrassing how easily he was able to - your walls offering hardly any resistance as he pressed in.

“Enjoy your new assigned seat.”

You let out a moan as you started to move up and down, slowly at first to warm up to the stretch of him. Almost as soon as you’d started, though, Crane stopped you, hugging you suffocatingly close so that you couldn’t so much as wiggle your hips.

 “No fidgeting in class,” he warned.

You huffed impatiently; the ache that was steadily growing between your legs only somewhat quelled by the way he filled you.

“But we’re not in class,” you protested.

“Didn’t I just tell you?” Crane hissed. “We’re going back over the material. Now…”

He leaned forward to reach for a textbook on his desk, and the small movement caused him to shift just enough to give you a hint of the stimulation you needed. But too soon, it was gone, and Crane had settled back into his chair with you still trapped on his lap, stretched and desperate for friction.

“Do you remember what today’s lesson was about?” he asked wickedly. “Or was your mind already wandering by the time I started talking?”

It was nearly impossible to focus with his voice dripping into your ear like that, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars. But, you summoned up every last once of attention you could muster to answer him.

“C-clinical trial procedures for use with SSRIs,” you said, grinding your teeth.

“Hm. It almost seems like you were paying attention.”

“I was,” you agreed, quickly seizing the opportunity. “I even took notes. I can show you-”

“Taking notes just proves you can copy down words from a chalkboard,” he interrupted. “I want to make sure you really absorbed the information.”

He punctuated the word with his hips, thrusting up just enough for you to feel it, but so shallow that you couldn’t enjoy the effects for more than a second. You groaned, and felt Crane’s smirk against the shell of your ear.

“Why don’t we open our books to page three hundred and thirty-eight?” he droned, using the same flat, carefully-recited voice that he always did in class. Hearing it so close to your ear made your walls flutter around him, and Crane tapped a finger impatiently on the textbook in front of you, not letting up.

“Can’t you just fuck me?” you whined, not caring how petulant your voice sounded.

“What makes you think I’m going to do that?”

You wished that you weren’t turned away from him, if only so Crane could see the look of utter disbelief on your face. He was balls-deep inside of you, and asking why you thought he was going to fuck you? As if you were sitting across from each other, having an actual tutoring session, and not nearly cumming around his cock.

If only he would let you move.

As you sighed with frustration, an idea came to you. There was one way you could torture him back.

You flexed your muscles, staying perfectly still while your walls squeezed his whole length. You thought you felt him twitch slightly, just a little involuntary movement. But it was hard to tell when your mind was already filling up with thoughts of the way he was sure to bend you over his desk and thoroughly destroy you once you had given him enough incentive.

“C’mon,” you sighed. “Why hold back when you’re obviously dying to make me remember whose cock makes me fall apart? You’re so jealous.”

The smug smile was quickly wiped off your face as Crane’s hands tightened around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“You think I’m jealous?”

He roughly swirled your hips, not giving you nearly enough friction, but still making you cry out. You wanted to scream for him to touch your clit, move you up and down - do anything. The torture of feeling him inside you, stretching you out with so little movement, was making your whole body burn. And most of the heat was starting to focus right between your legs, on the neglected bundle of nerves that was begging for attention.

“You think it drives me insane to watch someone else touch you?” He moved your hips again, and you felt a sharp pang of frustration. “That I don’t like it when someone else tries to take what’s mine?”

His last word was practically a growl, and you felt yourself clench again, not on purpose this time. The low hiss of his voice in your ear was almost enough to make you come undone, if only he would give you even the briefest hint of physical stimulation where you needed it.

You focused on squeezing him again, rubbing your legs together as much as you could.

“Don’t make me beg,” you pleaded.

“Oh no, sweetheart - you don’t have to beg. Like you said, I’m going to show you just who you belong to.”

With that, Crane’s hips shot up as he bit down harshly on the lobe of your ear. You were shocked to feel warmth spreading deep inside of you - you hadn’t even realized he was close. As he pressed deeper, one of his hands came up to squeeze roughly at your breast, and your mouth fell open.

You sat there together for a moment, Crane breathing a bit more heavily than he had been a few seconds ago. Eventually, you made a move to get up.

“I can’t believe you’re so petty,” you started.

Before you could stand up more than a fraction of an inch, Crane’s hold tightened on you again.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“To clean up.” 

You could feel his cum starting to leak out of you slowly. It dripped down the shaft of his cock, still buried inside you and keeping most of the mess contained.

“I don’t think so,” he said, calmly. He pulled you back, pinning you right where you had been before. “You’re staying right here until we’ve gone over the lesson. And if you still can’t pay attention…” He swirled your hips again in that deliciously infuriating way. “Then I guess we’ll be here for a very long time.”

“You’re infuriating,” you sighed. “I didn’t even do anything wrong!”

“What a shame. Now, where were we?”

As Crane reached forward again to open the textbook, his still-hard cock brushed against your slick walls. You tried to hold back the moan that escaped your lips, but you could feel every inch of him still inside you, and it was no use trying to stop yourself.

Crane brought his lips to your ear as he started to lecture, and you shivered.

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