#scarecrow one shot

[feninina]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day six ⛧ degradation

Sub!Jonathan Crane x Dom!Reader

Jonathan is starting to think he's on his high horse too much. He smarts off at you, making a big mistake. You take advantage of degrading and belittling Jonathan, and his ego is brought down to shallow depths.

warnings: smut, degradation, spitting, finger sucking, insults, dom/sub, sex toys, anal sex, anal fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), face-riding, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, touchless orgasm

word count: 2208

author's note: yayaayay day six!! I love writing sub men especially sub jonathan ugh. please. my weakness. anyway, I hope everyone enjoys (; remember to read the warnings carefully before proceeding. (:

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Jonathan has noticed that lately, he’s been a little snarky and bitchy- more than usual, anyway. He was bratty by nature, but he’s had an ego boost since snagging you. You’re perfect to him, and the fact he has someone as unique as you really gets him going. But it’s starting to exhaust him and cause issues at work, especially with colleagues. And the situation with this Rachel Dawes girl. Jonathan is sure he sent her to her death at the hands of Falcone and realizes that maybe his ego needs to be deflated. Especially if he feels challenged by a 20-something-year-old woman. Being in his thirties, Jonathan clearly knew better, especially as a professional. He brainstorms all day at the asylum, thinking of how to calm himself down and make his ego bruised to bring him down a notch. But he hits a wall, unable to come up with anything worth his time.

When Jonathan gets home, he’s frustrated with himself. He usually has great ideas, especially when it comes to degrading others and making them scared. But he can’t seem to come up with anything for himself. He grumbles as he hangs up his coat, tossing his keys into the dish by the door. He spots you curled up on the couch, reading a book. Jonathan notices the dishes you've yet to do in the sink from last night, and he rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were going to do the dishes today,” he frowns at you.

“Sorry, hon. I got invested in this book and haven’t thought about them,” you say sheepishly, “I’ll pop the dishes in the dishwasher after dinner tonight, okay?”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything and instead sits on the couch on the opposite end of you, flipping open his own book. You stare at him momentarily, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you clear your throat and resume reading. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you finally sigh.

“Are you okay, Jonathan?”

“I am perfectly fine, dear,” he replies exasperatedly, with a hint of sarcasm.

You purse your lips, becoming slightly impatient with him.

“You don’t seem fine, but alright.”

Jonathan looks over at you with a sassy look on his face before he turns back to his book. You raise an eyebrow.

“Did I do something to piss you off, mister brat?” you ask snarkily, closing your book and crossing your arms.

“Of course not,” Jonathan says, more sarcastic this time.

You huff, snatching his book from his hands and slamming it onto the coffee table.

“Watch your attitude,” you say blatantly.

“Or what?” Jonathan scoffs, yanking his book back with an attitude in his movements, “You won’t do anything.”

“Says who?” you chuckle darkly, crawling onto Jonathan’s lap and straddling his hips.

“Says me,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, “Now hop off. I’m trying to read.”

You scoff, tossing his book on the side of the couch where you were previously sitting, “How about you lose your attitude?”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks sassily, tilting his head.

You reach a hand up and grip his throat, your thumb and fingers pressing into the sides of his neck as you lean close to his face, “Or I’ll fucking make you.”

Jonathan gulps, unsure of how to react. You’ve never taken control before. You have a dominant side to your personality, but you’ve never dominated him sexually. Maybe Jonathan being dominated would knock him down a peg?

“Oh really?” Jonathan breathes, “You won’t.”

You growl, shoving two fingers from your other hand into his mouth, squeezing his neck a little harsher to prove your point, “Shut up, little boy. You’re nothing but a brat, you know that?”

Jonathan says nothing and willingly takes your fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking around them with doe eyes. You thrust your fingers in and out of his mouth, glaring at him as he hollows his cheeks, the sound of him suckling your digits a delight to your ears.

“Now, be a good boy and lay on the couch, then take off your pants and underwear. I’ll be right back. Don’t touch yourself,” you threaten, climbing off Jonathan’s lap.

Jonathan nods, scrambling to lie on the couch, moving his book. You hurry upstairs to grab something and return to the living room. Jonathan is lying on the sofa, his legs spread to reveal his hardened cock and his plump balls to you. You smirk as you put your toy on the coffee table, Jonathan’s eyes widening a little at the item. You resume your place on his lap, opting to sit on his bare, milky thighs. You give his cock a few pumps, spreading the leaking precum around his tip. 

“So worked up from just me shutting you up, huh?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, and you lightly slap him across the face.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “Or I won’t touch you at all.”

“No,” Jonathan says quickly, “Please touch me.”

“Why should I? What do you have to gain from it, hmm?” you slow your pace of moving your hand along his shaft.

“Because I’ve been bad,” Jonathan says bashfully.

“You’ve been a little bitch is what you’ve been,” you chuckle, “And little bitches get fucked until they learn their lesson.”

Jonathan gulps as you reach for your vibrator and sit it beside you, planning on using it later. You trace Jonathan’s face with a light finger before moving it to his lips, prodding them open to put your fingers back inside his mouth. 

“Suck. And get as much spit on them as you can,” you demand, pumping Jonathan’s cock faster with your hand tight around his length.

Jonathan nods vigorously, lapping his tongue around your digits and coating them with his spit. But it’s not enough.

“Open your mouth,” you say, removing your fingers.

Jonathan obeys, and you gather your own spit in your mouth before you spit it onto Jonathan’s tongue. He twitches in surprise but graciously accepts your saliva before you shove your hand back to his lips, letting him cover it in your added spit. 

“Good boy,” you whisper in awe at the sight of him closing his eyes as he bobs his head along your fingers.

You climb off his legs, shimmy off your shorts and underwear, and sit back down on his pelvis. Nudging one of Jonathan’s legs off the couch, you push his leg up and outward, “Grab your thigh, Jonny. And hold it open for me, okay?”

Jonathan follows your instructions, and you rub your clit to make yourself a little wetter in order to take him without a hitch. You grab his length and guide it into you as you lift your hips, moving them to suck him in to the hilt. You moan at the feeling of Jonathan filling you up, and you start riding him slowly. Spit still on your fingers, you circle Jonathan’s entrance slowly and daringly, turning around to gauge his reaction. His eyes are fluttered shut, his mouth agape as he breathes heavily. You circle his puckered hole faster, teasing it with the tip of your finger. Gently, you coax his asshole open with your index finger, pushing it in very slowly. Jonathan whimpers from behind you as you continue to slowly bounce on his cock. With your free hand, you massage his balls as your finger sinks deeper inside him. He squirms slightly, letting himself clench around your finger. 

“Taking my finger like such a good boy,” you praise, “Can you take another?”

Jonathan mewls, “Give me a second,” he gasps as you hook your finger slightly.

“Take your time,” you say sweetly, stretching him softly with your digit, pushing it in and out of him.

Jonathan moans as you fuck him harder with your soaked cunt, slowly entering another spit-coated finger into his tight ass. You manage to push it all the way in after a few moments, Jonathan a mess underneath you as his hips stutter. 

“So good,” you say, pussy clenching at the sight of Jonathan taking your fingers so well, “Finally shut you up, hmm?”

Jonathan moans in response, and you slowly hook your fingers inside him, scissoring your digits apart to stretch him out. Your boyfriend whines under you, his cock twitching pitifully inside your cunt. Grabbing the vibrator from next to you, you stick it in your mouth and suck it, letting your saliva coat it graciously. Pulling your fingers from Jonathan, he cries out from the lack of fullness. But you’re quick to press the toy against his hole, pushing it in slowly. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan moans pornographically, and you push it further inside until it hits his prostate.

You fuck him with it gently, letting him get used to it before turning the vibrator on. Jonathan yelps, his hips bucking into you harshly. Rocking your hips at a quicker pace, the sensation of the vibrator filling him up, as well as you fucking yourself on his cock, sends Jonathan reeling. He’s an absolute mess beneath you, wishing he had kept his sassy mouth shut because of the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. But also, Jonathan doesn’t regret the dramatic death of his ego right now. In fact, he’s relishing it. 

“How does it feel to be fucked by me?” you ask, breathless as you watch the vibrator go in and out of Jonathan’s tight hole, “To be humiliated and used like a little slut?”

“S’ good,” Jonathan manages to make out, bearing his hips down on the toy as you fuck him with it with vigor. 

You turn up the vibration setting two notches, and Jonathan twitches inside you, cumming hard and suddenly. His cum paints your puffy walls, filling you up. You turn off the vibrator and remove it from Jonathan, and he groans at the loss. 

“Bad, bad, bad,” you shake your head, tutting at your boyfriend, “I didn’t say you could cum.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan says quietly, tears pricking his eyes from the intense orgasm and the shame of cumming so soon.

“Now, you get the pleasure of me riding your face until I cum. Since I didn’t get to cum around your poor little cock,” you mockingly pout, pulling yourself off him and watching Jonathan’s cum weep from your pussy, “You’re gonna eat your own cum and like it. How does that sound?”

Jonathan wordlessly nods, unable to form a coherent thought in his head at the moment.

“Use your words, Jonny.”

“S-sounds good,” he says meekly.

You slide upward to rest your cunt on Jonathan’s face, and he immediately attaches his mouth to it, lapping up the mixture of your arousal and his cum with his tongue. He circles your clit, suckling on it as you let out a soft moan. You buck your hips to establish a rhythm with Jonathan’s tongue as he fucks it inside you. Jonathan starts to grow hard once more, and you watch as his length becomes slowly erect against his stomach. 

“Aw, is Jonny getting hard just from eating pussy? How cute,” you coo, “I bet you’re gonna cum all over yourself like the pitiful thing you are.”

Jonathan moans into you as a bead of precum leaks from his tip. You ride his face faster as the familiar warmth of pleasure spreads throughout your belly. You grasp your breasts, tweaking your nipples as your boyfriend skillfully nibbles your bundle of nerves. 

“Just like that, fuck,” you praise, tugging hard at your sensitive buds as your orgasm creeps on you, “Gonna make me cum after all, baby.”

Jonathan hums, the vibration sending you over the edge. You cum all over his face and tongue, and to your surprise, Jonathan’s cock spurts its own hot white load all over his stomach and chest. 

“I can't believe you just cum without me even touching you,” you chuckle, “How pathetic.”

You lean over and lick up his mess, playfully licking and biting his hardened nipples before dismounting his face. You take a deep breath before gathering the toy and telling Jonathan you’ll return in a second. When you return to the living room, Jonathan still lies haphazardly on the couch.

“Are you okay?” you ask, picking up your underwear and sliding them back on.

“Yeah,” Jonathan sighs, “I needed that.”

“I can tell,” you smirk, “You’ve been a dick lately.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, “I was thinking about it earlier and couldn’t come up with a solution to bring me back to earth. But it seems you came up with a solution on your own.”

“Sure did. Been thinking about doing this for a while anyway.”

“I didn’t know you were into being dominant,” Jonathan raises his eyebrows, and you offer him his underwear to put back on.

“It’s not something I do a lot, but yeah. I think it’s hot,” you grin, sitting on his lap.

Jonathan exhales through his nose, studying your face. He smiles briefly before stroking your cheek, “How about we take a bath and go to bed, hmm?”

“Sounds good,” you say, “Gotta get your bitchy self all clean.”

Jonathan snorts at that. Dinner and the dishes are long forgotten, and a nice, warm bath is drawn.

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#jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x you smut #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x y/n smut #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane one shot #kinktober #floralcyanide's kinktober #floralcyanide's kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #floralcyanide kinktober #floralcyanide kinktober 2023 #floralcyanide writes #batman begins #the scarecrow #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

[spidey-x-male-reader]

PLEASE Batman Begins Scarecrow with a male reader, every fic for him is fem reader and I’m down bad for this man 🥲🙏 how about some relationship hcs with a reader who’s the complete opposite of him, a big scaredy-cat?

Pairing: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x male!reader

Summary: Headcanons - you're dating Jonathan Crane while being a big scaredy-cat

A/N: This was so relatable because I honestly love Jonathan Crane (and generally Cillian Murphy so much) and I'm so easily scared of so many different things man

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

When you told him that you were a big scaredy cat he thought you were overdoing it

You weren’t

However he doesn’t judge you for anything, quite the opposite actually. He finds it endearing

He would judge you for none of your fears or things you’re afraid of

He understands that everyone has their fears, and he respects that. He takes a patient and gentle approach when encouraging you to confront your anxieties, without pushing you too hard or too fast

That man is a psychologist. He knows exactly how to properly handle things like that

He becomes even more protective of you, not just because he cares about you deeply but also because he recognizes your vulnerability

He’s always around when you need help whether it is encouragement or getting you out of a situation, he doesn‘t even hesitate

I feel like he’d consider trying to help you confront your fears with his fear toxin but then is like “yeah no let’s not do that”

So he helps you out the usual way

Even though he might seem scary at first (especially with the mask) he starts becoming a calming presence in your life

He would literally leave his work in a second if you called or texted that you needed help

Sure that man is a supervillain but you’re his soft spot

He’d really do anything to help you deal better with your fears and would be so proud of you when you managed to do something no matter how small it seems to be

#x reader #gay #pride #dc #dc one shot #dc x reader #dc x male reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x male reader #male reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #scarecrow x male reader #batman #batman begins #batman the dark knight #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x male reader

[duckietiewritestoo]

Not My Problem (Jonathan Crane x Doctor! Reader)

I did not know how to end this so you get this weird perfect ending! This chapter was inspired by the events of when Rachel zaps Crane. It's a hard scene to watch as a Jonathan Crane fangirl. 

Warnings: Cheesy....I think

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

The horse at my door was breathing fire, exhaling puffs of smoke, making me cough from it. I didn’t even know how it got up the stairs of the apartment, let alone how it was breathing fire. Something happened in the city that caused the water mains and piping to burst. I blamed my landlord for not keeping up to date with anything. I paid him a lot for that. Now smoke that induced nightmares filled my house, I could probably sue him.

What really had my attention was the masked man convulsing on the floor. I guess the horse brought him up to me. I didn’t notice him prior to that, I was busy hallucinating the horse and its flames. The man lying on the ground looked like a dying scarecrow. There was a crackling and a soft smell of fabric being burnt. It smelled like human skin too. I realized something was being zapped like a bug to a light. 

It wasn’t my problem and I didn’t want to deal with it. I knew who it was, I worked for him in Arkham in his medical ward. I rushed over and tore off the electrical wires from whatever tape gun tased Jonathan Crane. It zapped me too, causing me to yelp, and I quickly tossed it to the side, ripping Crane’s mask off his face. He was gasping for air. I delicately turned his face to look at me. His face wasn’t scared. His skin was steaming, not a great sign.

“What the heck happened out there,” I snapped rudely, pulling him by the arm. Jonathan groaned. Now that he was on his feet, I could see his attire, a worn and torn straightjacket that acted like a coat and his work blazer he always wore. His leather boots were scuffed, a rare sight for me. “Actually, what happened to you?” I asked.

“Just help me,” he coughed out. I sighed, rolling my eyes. He managed to utter those words weakly in a hoarse voice that I could barely understand what he was saying. I dragged Jonathan inside of my apartment. He groaned, his head falling limp.

“Can you walk?” I asked. The trip to the couch wasn’t that long but dragging Jonathan just made it harder. 

“(Name), I’ve been electrified, what do you think?” he retorted. I scoffed. Boy, he was rude.

“So you had enough strength to tell me that but you don’t have enough to walk? Tsk, disappointing,” I teased. “C’mon, let’s get you fixed up, you big baby.” I grunted, carrying Crane all the way to the couch where I put him down. He was heavy. I almost started sweating. As I laid him down on the couch, Jonathan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.  His breathing was heavy. I had to be gentle. “Are you okay?” I whispered. I delicately touched where his wounds were. He flinched. 

“Ow, be gentle!” Jonathan exclaimed. His eyes showed actual concern. I hadn’t seen that before. All I saw were cold blue eyes that loved it when someone was in pain. 

“I’ll try to be,” I muttered. I stuffed pillows behind his head to prop him up. I was a professional medical doctor, I knew what I was doing. We’d have to run water under his burns and there was no way I was keeping him under the sink. “I’ll be back,” I said. I grabbed a pot. Right, no water. I sighed, grabbing a flower vase and taking the dead plant out. I poured the little water I had against his face. Jonathan winced. 

“I asked you to be gentle!” he replied angrily. I huffed.

“Do you want to look handsome or have scars for the rest of your life, huh?” I spat. I frowned. “Not saying you’d be horrible to look at with scars, you’d still be handsome, but they might bother you for the rest of your life. So let me work my magic, Jonathan.” I watched his cheeks become a rosy shade of pink as he went silent. I’d have to run his burns under water for twenty minutes but with the pipes broken, the flower water would have to do.

Luckily, I had gauze bandages used for treating wounds somewhere in the house. Some were even sterile. “Stay here, okay,” I replied, getting up. Jonathan grabbed my hand. I stopped. “What do you need now?”

“It’s not that bad, I can handle myself for now,” he replied. “I don’t have major burns.”

“But you have minor wounds, that still counts for something.”

“I said I can handle it!” Crane tried sitting up. He winced, flinching as he fell back down onto the pillows. I huffed.

“I’ll be back.”

I did come back as promised. I had the bandages and wrapped up Jonathan’s face, making it snug to cover up his burns. He never flinched once while I did. He stayed calm, but I knew he was wanting to flinch and wince. I chuckled. “Do you want a lollipop for being such a calm patient,” I softly asked.

“No, I’m not a child, (Name),” he replied. He looked down, his gaze softening. “But I could use something sweet. Tonight has been…..strange.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, first the pipes burst, I started seeing stuff, a horse that breathed fire approached me, and I helped you,” I replied, putting the supplies away. I sat down on the couch. Jonathan sat up straight. 

“I might have been the root of that problem.”

“I figured, you’re always doing suspicious things in the basement at Arkham. I just didn’t think you’d be getting zapped and nearly getting fried.” Jonathan’s cheeks blushed. I noticed this. He was going off and on with turning red. 

“Are you sick as well?” I asked. I pressed the back of my hand against Jonathan’s cheeks. They started to heat up more. I pulled back. I scoffed, realizing he wasn’t sick. Those wide blue eyes were telling another story. “Don’t you dare tell me you feel something towards me or else I’m throwing you back out into the streets while everyone runs around screaming,” I threatened.

“Then I won’t say anything. Are you always this violent outside of work?” He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a cocky smile. 

“No.”

“Then only towards me, I assume?”

“Maybe.” 

“Only towards you,” I teased. “Now rest up, you can stay on the couch tonight. It’s really not my problem on how you got tased and I shouldn’t be so nice, but I am and don’t abuse it. Or I will call the cops and tell them you’re here.” Crane frowned, pleading with big eyes.

“Please, (Name), don’t let them find me,” he begged sarcastically. “I don’t know what I’d do without you if they took me.” I smiled, leaning in. 

“I wouldn’t let them take you, unless you deserve it.” Jonathan pouted and he took my hands. He curled his lower lip. He looked kinda cute like that. I blushed. 

“Would you let them take me?” he asked. 

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jonathan sat up and wrapped his arms around me. I let him. I would’ve fought it, but I let him, and I leaned against him. His hand brushed back my hair. He leaned in close to my ear and I could feel his warm breath tickle my skin.

“Would you like to see my mask?” he whispered.

#long post #nolanverse #batman begins #cillian murphy #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #x reader #one shot #batman #scarecrow #fanfiction #romance #cheesy #duckiewritez

[scleracentipede]

he’s just a little guy

(Image description in alt text)

#artists on tumblr #queer artist #digital art #trans artist #disabled artist #batman #jonathan crane #dr jonathan crane #scarecrow #year one scarecrow #I think too often we forget that year one scarecrow was a straight up savage who tried to shot a baby ? #he is just baby girl tho

[wtfgaylittlezooid]

i love southern scarecrow but i love ruining it even more

#i hear coffee addict scarecrow and can only think about this fucker would absolutely dump 10 shots of espresso in one cup of iced sweat tea #jonathan crane #edward nygma #scarecrow #the riddler #my art #doodles #dc comics #batman rogue

[like-rain-or-confetti]

How would the rouges (like BM, TF, Penguin, Scarecrow) feel about an S/O who loves plushies, and, owns a GIGANTIC plush of a mascot character they like (Sanrio) and sleeps with it in bed when the rouges are busy late night doing crime?

Bonus: If they had a plush made in their own image later on, like imagine a tiny Scarecrow or Black Mask plush 😭😭, and, sleeps with it in bed when they're out instead

Black Mask: if the gigantic plushie stayed out of his sight, he could live with it. What he couldn't deal with was the life size plushie of himself you were cuddling in bed with when he got home from the club. At first he freaked thinking it was another man in his bed until he turned on the light...and promptly wished he found another man in his bed when he realised what you were cuddling. "Darling I'm going to have to ask who made that for you so that I can kill them." You didn't give away anything and Roman was too tired for now and would drop it until the morning. "Well get it off the bed, I'm here now." Roman stripped and got into bed thinking you'd comply only to find you still cuddling the plushie of him. "Come on, you have the real thing!"

Scarecrow: Jonathan stared at the gigantic stuffed toy on the bed and said ine sentence. "And where are we going to sleep?" It's very difficult to surprise him, and seemingly, he wasn't phased by it. Although in the end didnt let you keep it saying it was completely ridiculous to keep thar in any home and made you get rid of it. However, when he came home to you hugging a plushie of himself- you seemed to actually catch him off guard. "What on earth? How did you even get that?" Jonathan was bewildered at how you were spooning the plushie of himself. It didn't help when you gave a vague answer of "I have my ways." Then you justified it because "He wasn't home much."

Penguin: He had came home late from the Iceberg Lounge when he found you curled up in bed with a tiny plushie version of him. "...I knew this day would come." Oswald sighed rather amused but at the same time a little disturbed. "Sweetheart, remember when i said having that gigantic chipmunk taking half of my bed was too much? This is worse. Don't get me wrong, your taste is excellent but this is too much."

Two-Face: Harvey practically forced his alter into silence so Harv' wouldn't lose his shit at the giant plushie but eventually Harv' won, insisting it wasnt staying which the two later regretted when they saw you now had a plushie of them. "You know I always asked myself when I'd draw the line but here it is. This is where I draw the line." Harvey nodded to himself. "What the hell?" After a moment Harv' spoke. "Good thing there are two of us...we're gonna need the advantage in numbers with this one."

#batman #request #batman villains #one shot #oneshot #black mask #roman sionis #harvey dent #two face #scarecrow #jonathan crane #penguin #oswald cobblepot

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Stupid man

Word count: 1900

Pairing: Batman x fem!reader

Summary: Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future

Warning: brief depiction of the fight and sad Alfred and sad Dick

--------------------------------------------

"..."

"Batman."

"..."

"..."

"Batman!!!"

"...Code 4..."

"Bruce! Bruce, stay with me! Dick, Bruce needs help!"

"On it, Y/n."

Y/n examines the live cam seeing the infinite black ground covering it. Her hands quiver over the control, hoping her man will live to witness another day. Steps crumble toward Batman Y/n, sighing a breath of relief and sitting on the closet chair. 

"Thank god you are here, Dick."

"What?! No, Batcomputer... I am 3 minutes ETA."

Fear poisons her veins as Y/n listens closely.

"What's wrong, Batman!? Scared?"

Y/n's eyes glaze on the computer screen, her voice letting out the villans name, her voice matching with Bruce's

"Scarecrow"

"Scarecrow"

"Do not worry, Batman. You will not die...Not yet, but your veins will pollute themself with my fear of toxins. I cannot wait to see if this will break you or make you into my Scarecrow. "

Another pair of feet grumble down, rushing in while grunts cascade from Scarecrow.

"Move away from him, buttface!" Dick roared, smashing the straw-filled enemy, managing to cuff him down in 4 agonizing minutes for Y/n. The police sirens howled into the Gotham sky, taking the Scarecrow away. 

"Batcomputer, we are coming back."

"Copy."

The Batmobile drove in as Y/n observed anxiously, already preparing an operating table for Bruce. The door opens with a swift movement, Y/n placing herself under Bruce's weight and Dick helping out. Placing the wounded brute on the table, Alfred comprehended what he had to do. His stoic face examined the patient's body, witnessing his sweating going faster, his face painting itself in a heartbreaking expression, eyebrows stitched together, mouth emitting pained groans and vocal no's, eyes rolling back the white canvas painted with tiny green veins. 

To her, it all collided in her mind, he was wounded deeply, and he could die. He is human. He isn't indestructible like he vowed to her when she uncovered his secret. She could wake up tomorrow and find him 6 feet under. His hands could not hug her or console her. His smooth voice could not comfort or call her when she lost her way in the manor.

She was mad to think that there would be this his end. Dying of old age for the Batman?! She was mad to think that... and more so to believe that he would survive this so easily.

Her expression zoned out, looking at Bruce's hands. With an "I could have done what I could, now we wait for it to pass" from Alfred, Y/n walked over to Burce, clutching his hand and sitting next to him, her face blank as ever.

Alfred gave Dick a comforting hug wishing his son would survive this live nightmare. Alfred walked to Y/n as Dick stood at Bruce's other side while Alfred spoke softly to Y/n.

"Mistress Y/n, rest. I will mind him."

With no glance adverting towards the lovely father figure, Y/n spoke, "No. I will stay with him. You two go rest and...and I don't know."

Alfred and Dick exchanged glances between themself, knowing fully well there was no room for discussion, the ambiance feeling incredibly heavy by the moments that let up until now. Moving away from the couple, they let the bat calls echo on the stone walls, encapsulating the worst moment in their lives.

~~~~~

Trying to stay awake after almost 40 hours of torturous silence and stillness, Alfred put his foot down at the utterly tired woman. 

"All right, Mistress Y/n. Sleep now...IN the Master Bedroom."

Y/n responds in a burb of words, "No... He...Wake...Want to see... Blue eyes... no sleep...coffee..."

"You already had your 10th cup, and I pledge that you now have coffee running through your veins. Go rest. Now!"

Alfred pulled her away, dragging her to the much-needed rest letting involuntary Alfred watch over his adoptive son. 

~~~~~

Time passes as it does while Bruce feels the cold ambiance of the Batcave. His eyes open, noticing Alfred's dead pained gaze. Alfred spluttered some words that were more so sounds with no context as he looked at Bruce sitting on the table. Alfred steps in front of his family, hugging him, not feeling the weight that passed his heart, the deadly weight he would drag into the ground with him. Bruce jerks in the hug his cold skin touching against the warm cotton-laced fabric of his butler. 

"How long was I out?"

Alfred brokenly whispers, "Too long. We already thought the worst, Master Bruce. Don't do that again."

Pulling back, Alfred sighed a breath of relief. His brain rolled back all of the fondest memories he had with Bruce, and it was most of his life, but now seeing his blue eyes blinking, his mouth moving with words but Alfred hearing not one, just feeling the alleviation in his heart. 

"...Y/n?" The voices blur seemed to die down for Alfred, bringing him back, hearing Y/n's name.

"She is resting. She needs it. Mistress Y/n was by your side while you were at your most alarming. No sleep, food, just coffee, so many cups of coffee."

Alfred expressed in a tranquil tone seeing Bruce stand up on frail legs. Alfred stood in his spot, judging whether or not to speak and stop Bruce from walking, knowing full well where he was going. But Bruce was stubborn, not more than Y/n but more so than Alfred, leaving Alfred with a slight chuckle leave his lips.

"My goodness."

Bruce staggered step and step up the manor towards his master bedroom, not seeing much around himself, seeing solely stairs, his feet, and his left hand grabbing the rail for dear life. Bruce felt weak, he felt lost and shaken up, his mind filled with the remainder of nightmares, and he felt broken with all this unwanted movement in his body, mind, and soul. Bruce needed help, but he didn't want to ask. Bruce was ashamed to ask; he was a protector, yet there was no protector in him. One step more, he felt stronger, lighter, and more capable. As if...

"Need help, B-man?" Dick asked with a glint in his blue eye. The evident relief shows on the boy's face as he places himself under braces shoulder and puts Bruce's arm over his broad shoulders. Bruce let the grip of the handrail and leans on his son, letting him guide him up, feeling a tiny bit better now.

"You gave everyone a great scare. Don't do that again. Lost a lot of sleep."

Bruce croaked with a laugh. "And I'm guessing you replaced it with coffee."

"How did you know?" Dick questioned as they reached the top of the steps, a few efforts away from the bedroom. 

"Had a hunch." Bruce responds. Standing tall, Bruce hugs Dick, with the utmost emotion in his heart, towards Dick, a young boy who he gave shelter when he lost his parents, finding a few golden threads that connected them. Giving Bruce a new way to look at life, a moment that told him he wasn't the only one in this position. There were always other people to help, and this small boy, now a proud man, was standing in front of him, proud of helping him grow up in a safe home and letting him define a new generation of justice.

Dick froze in this moment. He felt Bruce's arms around his body, noticing the familial warmth radiating from his father. Hugs weren't rare, and yet they weren't often as well. Well, they were starting to get more often lately, thanks to Y/n influence. 

Communication is complex for Bruce, his primary source of love and communication was cut off a long time ago when he was eight, left only with his butler, who was also mourning, attempting to be a family figure for the boy. Life resumed, and Bruce continued to keep himself and others around him at arm's length, not comprehending what he was doing wrong. Only when he met Y/n. Who told him that communication would build him into a better person and father figure to Dick. Bruce preserved it in his mind, not acting much upon it until this moment, a moment where he felt that the right move would be a hug and the words...

"I love you..son." Bruce spoke clearly enough for Dick to pull back and look a second of puzzled look on his face before taking a chuckle out of it

"You still have a concussion."

Dick stepped away from him down the stairs, his steps seemingly crammed with joy, hearing the words he had heard from Bruce maybe a handful of times. Bruce limped gradually towards his bedroom, opening the heavy door with a slow swoosh, not wishing to wake up his girl. There she was. Sleeping on her side, her back facing him. Her curves were covered by the thick duvet cover that was dubbed an 'expensive heating blanket that could swallow me whole, and I wouldn't mind' by Y/n. His muscular weight dipped the bed slightly as he sat down, looking at Y/n shift towards him, her eyes still shut, laced with sleep. 

"Poor thing... Why didn't you eat anything? Why didn't you drink water like you always tell me to? I feel so stupid to have to put you through this to know how much I love and need you. When I had nightmares, one of my nightmares was seeing you walk past me, not knowing me, not kissing my cheek or holding my hand—just passing me, not even looking at me. And when I wanted to reach your hand, you looked at me with disgust and kept moving. Only for me to yell for you and watch you walk...away. I would never have thought I would see another day where you are in my life, our house, and our future."

Bruce's hand reaches for Y/n kissing her knuckle lightly just enough to stir her awake. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her eyes catching Bruce's figure concealed in the night sky's color. Standing up slowly, Y/n looked at his hand holding hers, examining his hand carefully, caressing her palm, drawing little shapes, tiny invisible hearts, and stars. Y/n looks up into his blue eyes, expressing uncertainty.

"Please, tell me this is real."

Leaning down to her, Bruce kisses her lips softly, answering in a hushed tone.

"I am here, sweetheart."

Y/n eyes twinkle and shake with tears brimming over the edge of her waterline as they begin to cascade down her cheeks. Bruce kisses her cheeks, dabbing away her tears. Y/n drew Bruce to herself, hugging him for dear life, hearing his strong heartbeat beating in a serene rhythm. 

"Don't do that ever again, stupid man. Stupid, stupid man." Y/n cried out to her man, feeling herself ache with the reality of his job and life purpose. 

"I won't, darling. I will never leave you again.'" Bruce promised, caressing her back gently, soothing her as she cried out. Bruce knew what happened to him was life-changing in more ways than one, and it nearly broke his family apart. Bruce was definitely in his peak physical shape, but mentally, he still had to shape himself into a man worthy of being a good son, a great father, and a one-of-a-kind future husband. 

But that will, for now wait, and so will the ring that was hidden in Bruce's drawer for another day.

Hope you liked it! Let me know what you think ❤️

#dc x reader #batman one shot #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #batman x reader #batman x oc #bruce wayne one shot #dc imagine #dceu #justice leauge x reader #batfleck x reader #robert pattinson bruce wayne #justice leauge imagine #justice league #imagine #Scarecrow #Dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #one shot #Drabble #bruce wayne #ben affleck #christan bale

[firemenenthusiast]

ive been thinking about this for a while but do yall not think he looks like chris evans here

#cillianenthusiasttalks #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian fluff #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fics #cillian one shot #robert fischer #jonathan crane #jackson rippner #neil lewis #tommy shelby #oppenheimer #batman scarecrow

[kitsune024]

Danny Phantom & Batman Fanfiction Crossover

The Red Hood's Big Bad Guard Demon by STOVE

Jason discovers he's not as human as he once thought. Luckily, he's just met a man who is very enthusiastic about organized crime and willing to teach him everything there is to know about being a member of the undead.

Whoever said a bad trip can't turn into a good time clearly never met Danny Fenton.

Chapters 1/?

#STOVE #one shot #ao3 fanfic #danny x jason #dp x dc #danny is so high and unhinged here I LOVE it #danny freaking jason out #body horror #scarecrow's fear toxin #danny phantom #dp

[heavywithplot]

when the fucked up mirror in the haunted house you live in lets you know that your demon scarecrow boyfriend knocked you up before you realize it

#mpreg #mshehrhg are y'all cool if i post some writing here #i know i started this space off as an art blog but so many of these doodles have like. whole stories and Many Thoughts attached to them all #anyway these guys (well. this guy and his demon scarecrow boyfriend) double over as generic horror setting ocs so we can get #all the different flavors of preg going on within the genres. the main story is mostly southern goth/c influenced #but you know. we can get some ghost preg going on too in an AU #miscellaneous one shot stories re giving birth on friday the 13th or halloween for magic ritual reasons

[madame-fear]

You: Jervis? What are you writing?

Jervis: A fanfic.

You: About what?

Jervis: You and Mr Crane.

You: W-What? W-Why?

Jervis: Mr Crane asked me to. I'm being paid.

Jonathan: I TOLD YOU TO KEEP THAT ANONYMOUS IDIOT!

#Gotham incorrect quotes #gotham x reader #gotham x you #gotham imagine #gotham headcanons #Gotham one shots #Gotham Jonathan crane x reader #Gotham Jonathan crane x you #Gotham Jonathan crane imagine #Gotham Jonathan crane headcanons #Gotham scarecrow x reader #Gotham scarecrow x you #Gotham scarecrow imagine #Gotham scarecrow headcanons #Jonathan crane x reader #Jonathan crane x you #Jonathan crane imagine #Jonathan crane headcanons #Scarecrow x reader #Scarecrow x you #Scarecrow imagine #Scarecrow headcanons #Batman villains x reader #Batman rogues x reader #Batman villains imagine #Batman rogues imagine #Gotham villains x reader #Gotham villains imagine #J squad x reader #Charlie Tahan x reader

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day two ⛧ nipple play

Jonathan Crane x Reader

In which Jonathan is submissive for you and only you.

warnings: smut, nipple play, nipple stimulation/overstimulation, overstimulation, cum eating, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

word count: 837

author's note: welcome to day two!! this one was fun to write and definitely sent the discord over the edge lolol. I love sub!crane tbh so yeah. hehe. enjoy (:

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

Despite Jonathan’s cold exterior that he puts on for everyone in the world, he has a soft spot for you. He’d do anything for you, including letting you have leverage over him sexually. Jonathan is usually the dominant one, but he’s a true switch at heart. He’s never trusted anyone enough to sub for them until he met you. So here Jonathan is, lying on your bed in your apartment, with the lit candles on the bedside tables being the only light source in the room. The flames' shadows flicker upon Jonathan’s face. You have removed his glasses and pants so you can see his handsome face and lovely hips in full view. You have Jonathan flat on his back with his head supported by pillows as you slowly unbutton his white shirt, kissing along his jaw. You brush your hands on his warm chest under the shirt, pushing it open. 

“Is Jonathan going to be a good boy for me?” you ask, sitting up on his lap.

Jonathan nods his head vigorously, wishing for nothing more than your touch. You lean down again, leaving wet kisses on Jonathan’s neck and down to his collarbone. You run your tongue over his peck until you reach his nipple, where you circle around it with the tip of your tongue slowly. Jonathan shudders, goosebumps scattering across his skin at the feeling. You drag your tongue across his chest to the other bud, doing the same to it. You begin to suck on the hardening nipple, pressing your clothed core down on Jonathan’s slowly growing bulge. He lets out a whimper as you graze your teeth on his sensitive skin. You switch back over to the other peck, biting it softly as you’re lightly pinching the one you just had your mouth on previously. 

“You’re doing so well keeping your hands to yourself,” you pull off the little bundle of nerves, noticing how Jonathan gripped the sheets.

You continue to lap and bite at his nipples, twisting and pulling them until they’re red and angry. Jonathan is now squirming underneath you, making your clit rub against his growing length just right. Stripping yourself of your shirt and discarding it, you hastily remove your bra, tossing it to the floor. You lean down and let your breasts kiss Jonathan’s chest, your own nipples barely making contact with his. You drag your chest against his directly, a moan escaping both of you at the friction. Holding your breasts steady, you circle Jonathan’s nipples with yours, both your chests sensitive from the amount of teasing or lack thereof. Jonathan groans, bucking his hips into yours. You start grinding on him as you push your breasts into his chest, your hardened buds pressing against each other deliciously. As you grind your cunt on his covered cock, your nipples grind, too, causing you to squeal at the sensation. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” you bite your lip as you stare at Jonathan, lust making your eyes heavy.

Jonathan is still gripping the sheets, “Yes,” he moans breathily.

You let your hard clit roll over Jonathan’s clothed and leaking tip. The feeling makes you hastily pull your and his underwear down enough for you to make direct contact. You move your hips forward, letting your bundle of nerves swipe against Jonathan’s angry tip, his precum lubricating you perfectly. Picking up your pace, you sit up and squeeze your own breasts, urging Jonathan to play with his nipples. He hesitantly lets go of the sheets, letting his fingers pinch at his buds as he lets out a satisfying moan, his hips thrusting into yours. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan mutters, “So sensitive.”

“Good,” you smirk, letting your wet, pulsing cunt drag along his length repeatedly.

Jonathan throws his head back, and his body shakes from all the stimulation. 

“Are you gonna cum, Jonny?” you tease, swiveling your hips.

“Mhmm,” he whines.

“Cum all over your stomach, pretty boy.”

One particularly rough movement of your hips sends Jonathan spiraling into his release. Hot spurts of cum cover his stomach as his chest heaves from the exertion. You keep grinding yourself against him until you finally cum, your arousal coating his length. You lean down and lick his stomach clean and suck off your juices from his sensitive cock, relishing in the whimper that leaves Jonathan’s mouth at the overstimulation. 

“You did good,” you praise Jonathan, running a hand over his hair.

He keens into your touch, an exhausted yet satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

The next day, Jonathan’s nipples are incredibly sensitive. So much so that he has to wear an undershirt underneath his button-up so they don’t keep brushing against the fabric. You suggested some Vaseline for the discomfort, trying your best not to laugh at his disgruntled noises while he was getting dressed that morning. As it’s been said, Jonathan would do anything for you, including walking around all day with sore nipples. At least it’s a constant reminder of the undying pleasure he was given the night before. 

taglist:

@cillianswifefr @nothingherewhatsoever @ins0mniac-whack @multifans-things @mypoisonedvine @madnessandobsession @tiredkitten @lolabunny222 @gimmefood @thecherrycocktail @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @silas703 @scarlettlight06 @Gramelda @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @dunklerkeks1611 @reggxe-a @aviamulier @dorknerdbeautiful @scribbuluswrites @ecstaticforus @vampireluck @doitmour1r @desert-springtime @tuffy-floral @hllywdwhre @moompie @langdons-slut @cillymyfavdilf @pplanetoparis @generalvoidthing @luna047 @mg-i-have-issues @darlingsfandom @devotedly-sassy @banshailey @notevenellastein @cillsmurphys @ch3rry-co1a @elegantfacetree @ilikefictionalmen @juleshadalittlelamb @sweatymuffinweasellamp @pheonist @rubydubytuby @madnessandobsession @ceirinen @treac @Vrfilms @cillian-murph @sstar_ggirl @ecstaticforus @flwrs4aust

(if you signed up to be on the taglist and do not see your name, your tag failed or you may have typed the wrong url.)

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x you smut #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x y/n smut #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane one shot #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #floralcyanide writes #floralcyanide kinktober #floralcyanide kinktober 2023 #floralcyanide's kinktober #floralcyanide's kinktober 2023 #batman begins #batman #scarecrow #the scarecrow #scarecrow x reader

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

If life gives you fear toxin, make hrt

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #Fear Toxin #This is a trans joke #and a positive one btw #not meant to be a bad thing #like #just imagine jon helping you with your t shot or something <3 #if life gives you lemons

[anitalenia]

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒓 / 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒋𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒆 / 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 / 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒆𝒔.

#𓍯꒷ 𝐌𝐀𝐔𝐕𝐄 ﾉ ◝ ̨⊹ #batman #batman fic #batman oneshot #catwoman x batman #the batman #batman fanfic #batman imagine #batman x reader #dc universe #dcverse #bale batman x reader #christian bale #bale batman #bale batman fic #battinson imagine #battinson one shot #battinson fic #battinson x reader #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow dc #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow fanfic #cillian murphy

[stillebesat]

Clean Up?

Do you think the Sanitization workers/ Clean up crews in Gotham are highly paid??

I mean...they have to work around and with so many hazards after various villain attacks.....so what would their pay be like? Bonuses? Benefits? Vacation days?? Insurance payouts??

How likely are these workers...who are constantly around the aftermath of all these attacks to: A: Quit. (Do they have a high turnover rate? Probably) B: Be in the pay of a villain and are tasked to sneakily take back things left behind by their villain and other villains? C: To have permanent side effects from being on the clean up crew? (Oh yah, Johnny just glows now. Real handy on 5th where the street lights constantly don't work) D: Die. E: Turn Evil and become yet another Villain the city has to face? (New Origin story of Condiment King anyone?)

Does the City even HAVE clean up crews? Or do they just hope the near constant rain will wash everything away? (No wonder the sewers are a mess if that's the case)

#Batman #Gotham #How does one clean a city after a villain attacks? #Would it pay better than being in a gang I wonder? #Oh sure I can risk exposure to more of scarecrow's fear gas OR I could join a gang and die by getting shot. #Hmmm decisions decisions decisions #I wonder if there's a special dump site for all those chemicals....or does it just all go to the local landfill like all the other trash?