#crack since the Cranes are in Gotham

[saintmuses]

❝𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧❞

Pairing:

Jonathan Crane x Abducted!Reader

Summary:

She spent time wondering why she wasn’t handed over to Ra’s al Ghul like a bargaining chip until the actions of Jonathan’s were revealed to her one night.

Warning(s): SMUT. Implied minor age gap. P in V. Jonathan being soft for reader. Abduction. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 2.9k

There was this flame, stronger than any of the fires she would and had witnessed it throughout her life, she would be dumb if she did not recognize the flame that was roaring in many ways between them. After all, there was that particular flame crackling and burning since they met a long time ago before Gotham collapsed even further with Jonathan’s fear toxin.

A dangerous mess that she and Jonathan had made upon the moment they met.

There was a negative aspect to this; no one was here or any limitations to stop the feeling that consumed her for the last few months. The last time she'd experienced it, she felt flickers of it. 

She was a student in Jonathan’s class three years ago during her first year at Gotham University. To her it was the position of authority that oppressed the flickers she felt towards him. They had remained on neutral grounds; he was very stoic towards her that she did not have to worry about crossing the boundaries because she would if he had shown an ounce of interest. It also helped that she was with someone at that time. 

However, it did not stop her wondering of what-ifs after she left his class. Somehow the distance between them other than seeing glimpses of him in the hallways of the campus did not oppress the flickers. Instead, it ignited like it was a gasoline to her feelings towards Jonathan which would be considered already flaming.

Which made the fire more roaring.

It did not really help that his baser, predatory side was preventing her from slipping through the walls of his own creation he had for himself.

It was different last time, it only lasted momentarily when he had softened towards her few and far between after she was done with his class for freshman year. As if the sight of her presence chased away the dark gloomy iciness surrounding his heart. Somehow this time, he hardened himself more whenever he was around her.

It was quite a monstrous thing. His stoic expressions, his words were the buffer to dampen the interactions between them, treating her as if she was a package to be sent to somewhere. She'd suppose she was, after all there was something insidious that caused him to take her that night when Gotham collapsed completely.

It was quite a monstrous thing, to see him being the cold stoic human that he briefly once was when she first met him, and yet the monstrous thing was to feel him touching her skin, lingering as his words did the opposite. 

Cold, sharp, and cutting all at once, and yet warmth, possessive and electrifying too.

In moments like these, his fingers would brush her exposed skin. His cold icy eyes would follow behind, then the moment would be doused by his words.

As if to remind himself she was not worth it. It also did not help the fact she was never been inflicted by the chemicals he had made. Instead, she would notice his eyes tend to get a little dark whenever they linger on the sentiment, and he never lifted a finger to use it on her.

She was determined to put a crack in his armor, shattered beyond the point where he could not put them back together ever again.

She knew he wanted her to see him as a monster, as Scarecrow and not the man. Instead, she saw him as both. Perhaps in another life where she did not know him at all, she would view him permanently as Scarecrow.

It did not help her desires.

Whenever he showed his slightly monstrous side, it was a lure, like a moth to flame. She was drawn to him strongly when he was not disguising himself with farce. She knew he was capable of being a decent man whenever he wanted to be, but he was also a monster as well. The true decency where the monster did not intervene came few and far between.

It was debauching to her because she wanted him. All of him, and his treatment of her; keeping her at distance did not dampen it.

Neither will the flame they danced around since they met the first and the last time.

She was shaken from her reveries when she heard the door closing, following with the shoes touching the hardwood floors as he walked into the living room.

"When will you hand me over to Ra’s al Ghul?” She asked, staring at the book before she closed the binding. She then put it on the coffee table before pushing herself from the plush couch, turning her head to him.

She did go to sleep in her apartment one night only to wake up in his apartment to complete a deal with Ra’s al Ghul, but he had dampened her ideas by holding her hostage after the deadline which was not the plan. She had thought he was willing to hand her over when Ra’s al Ghul came to town that occurred two months ago, but she found out he had not said a word to Ra’s al Ghul’s lackeys hence holding her hostage longer.

"When it's time," he said stoically, eyes burning ice into her soul. She blinked away the sensation.

She snorted as she strode over to where he was standing which was not far from the couch. "You had time to do it weeks ago." She spat, reminding him as the incredulity coated her tone. She stared at him. "You need me alive so you can lure your Ra’s al Ghul out of his hiding spot, so you can complete whatever bargaining with him which should've happened two weeks ago." She hissed, her eyes narrowing into a glare before continuing. "I'm trying to prevent the catastrophic mess that could happen if you don't hand me over to him!"

He only looked at her with a slight amusement in his depths, which only made her more frustrated.

She crossed her arms, "do you even have the bargaining chip?" She questioned him, gritting her teeth.

He inclined his head. "Yes," he answered noncommittally. 

She scoffed, staring at him in disbelief before she spoke. "Yet, I don't see myself gone or dead." She did fight him like a vicious cat when she woke up in his place, but she was used to it by now.

Before she could breathe another word, he had his hand in her hair, fingers intertwining her strands before jerking her head back. She nearly gasped in surprise. Her neck was craning, but not painful as he asserted his power over her.

"Don't tempt me," he growled, his eyes flashing as coldness seeped into his gaze as his irises darkened in a true predator fashion with anger, the muscles underneath his skin around his jaw began to flex under strain as he stared down at her.

She stared up at him with fascination. It was the first time he ever showed his unhinged side. He eluded control and power with violence in disguise of soft words.

It was quite a monstrous thing. 

God help her, but she wanted him to consume her. 

"Then what do you want?" She growled at him. "You've got the fear toxin, you've got me, and I'm sure you can find a way to lure him out here.” She ticked off the vitality of the bargaining. "So, what the hell do you want!?" She repeated the question.

She heard the rumble in his chest before he snarled out the word, "you!" She reared back in surprise with a little distance due to his hand in her hair. "I want you. I don't want to give you over to Ra’s al Ghul because I want you all to myself."

The silence was loud. Somewhat a suspension in time with waves rushing towards the cliff sides, something like planets heading towards each other in the state of collision, or an atomic bomb aiming towards a piece of land before it exploded.

"Then do it." She breathed, staring at his lips before moving her gaze into his depths.

Then the silence broke, with waves crashing into the cliffs. Planets colliding into pieces, and the atomic bomb exploded with devastating effects.

Without warning, his mouth engulfed hers. Her gasp disappeared into his mouth as he towered over her, his arm that wasn't occupied took place around her waist. His lips devouring hers, tongue swiping across her lips before prying them apart to probe deep into her mouth, she felt herself responding with a level of desperation that shocked her.

His lips felt electrifying and home all at once.

She became aware of her own frantic moans and wondered who she'd become.

The one that met this wretched villainous of a man.

He withdrew from her lips; his hand released her strands as he took a step back. She wanted to protest, but the determined emotion that was painted on his face stopped her from saying something.

She then felt his arm moving across her waist onto her forearm before he gently enclosed his fingers around her hand.

He sat down on the chaise part of the couch before, tugging her towards him. She felt him releasing her hand as his fingers went to the top of his trousers where his belt resided.

A sensation of her abdomen clenching had her in a whirlpool of lust as she gazed at the movement of his hands.

His fingers pulled the leather out from the metal clasp, pulling upward for the pin to be released from the tiny hole before he loosened the metal.

She noticed he was staring at her, "come here." He commanded softly as he unbuttoned the top of his trouser before unzipping.

She breathed in sharply as she took a step closer to him when he lifted his thighs to move his trouser before pushing them off until it reached his knees.

The air became trapped in her lungs when his erection was revealed to her.

How is it going to fit inside her?

It was huge, bigger than her previous partners, and on the longer side. She realized she was becoming aroused from the sight.

Straying her eyes away from his cock. She had just noticed his hands moved until he unbuttoned his white shirt, releasing the buttons from the confinements, baring his chest under her gaze.

He smirked up at her as he leaned forward until his hands curled around her thighs to pull her towards him. She maneuvered her legs until she was sitting on the edge of his knees.

She shivered as his hands then glided upward on her back, warmth seeping into her skin then she raised her arms when he pulled the summer dress off of her, leaving her sitting in her lacy underwear.

He then backtracked his previous path until his fingers curled around her breasts, she moaned slightly, arching her chest as he craned his neck to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Her hands reached for his hair, gasping as he sucked harder, biting slightly before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands withdrew from her breast until they reached for her underwear. She jerked slightly in surprise when she heard and felt the scrap of fabric ripped away from her.

His other hand withdrew from the curve of her butt, then she felt his hand reaching the curve of her thigh, and he then dragged her from his knees to the top of his thighs, smearing her wetness onto his skin as he did so.

He pulled her towards him slightly until she felt the tip of his cock brushed against her lower abdomen, she shuddered at the feeling of it, feeling bold she pushed herself forward until she felt his entire cock onto her skin. It was trapped between her pelvic bone and his stomach.

Her lips curled up when she felt his fingers tightened on her hips as his breathing became ragged. Determined to make him lose control, she inched her hips in the air slightly, and started to glide along his cock, coating it with her wetness.

She then gasped lightly when she felt him pushing her hips down as he thrusted against her. The head of his cock nudged against the nerves of her clit, making her throw her head back.

A moment later, she found herself pressing against the fabric of the couch on her stomach. Her nipples pebbled uncomfortably as it chafed against the fabric.

She could feel his thighs on each side of her thighs, his chest was pressing against her back as he held her arms above her head as if he was caging her in.

His cock sunk into between her thighs, rubbing along her clit as he shifted his hips, not entering her. 

It was quite sensual. Almost as forceful, but so willingly.

He arched his hips just enough after pushing himself up only using her arms as leverage, and she moaned into the fabric as she felt the tip of his cock nudging slightly at the entrance before it pushed into her slowly then withdrew slightly.

Before she could protest, her eyes were glazed over as he pushed back inside her, forcibly thrusting in and out of her pussy. 

She whimpered while he purred deep in his chest, the noise triggered her walls into squeezing convulsively around his cock.

With a growl, he gripped her arms hard, and slammed into her with such brute force that she almost came. A noise escaped from her throat as her body shuddered from his immense size forcing her walls open, reaching her cervix.

Her whole body rocked with the violence of his thrusts. "More," she mumbled into the fabric, begging.

It was a monstrous thing, for her to want more. Somehow it was never enough when it came to him.

It was addicting.

"You're a greedy little thing," he breathed into her ear as he swiveled his hips into her before he bottomed out his cock fully seated inside her, stretching her walls beyond her limits. "So tight," he murmured, she could feel his fingers flexing into her skin, then she felt the slight emptiness as he pulled back slowly. She felt him pause, the head of his cock was nestled in her before he withdrew from her.

"Please don't stop," she whined, high pitched keen erupted from her throat as she felt his fingers pushing into her instead of his cock.

She hadn't realized that he removed one of his hands from her arms until then.

"No one gets to touch this but me," he hissed, pushing his digits into her, curling downward slightly before removing from her. 

She whimpered, her walls clenching the emptiness he left her with other than the fingers at the entrance, "only you." She agreed, nodding into the fabric. 

"Good girl," he rumbled into her ear as he snaked his left arm under her, gliding along her stomach, trailing up between her breasts until he wrapped his hand onto the curve where her neck and the shoulder met, gripping it slightly before trailing his hand towards her forearms, joining his other hand.

He curled his fingers around her skin, briefly pressing his chest against her back before leaning back.

She then moaned, the noise escaped from her lungs when she felt him slamming his hips back into her, forcing his cock into her once again.

She heard him groan, "you feel that?" He asked hoarsely. "You feel how your pussy takes my cock? Inch by inch until there's nothing left." He breathed; lust coated his tongue.

Her breathing hitched as she began to squeeze around his cock involuntarily in response.

She felt his fingers tightening around her wrists as he snarled, "fuck."

"Please, Jon." She whimpered, arching her buttocks into him to start fucking her again.

Wet, sloppy squelching sounds echoed through the room as he slammed into her with brutal heavy thrusts -edging on unhinged speed- that would leave fabric prints into her skin as her body chafed against the couch.

"You belong to me," he growled, grunting slightly. "Do you understand?" Feeling dazed, she nodded into the fabric. "I could have you like this all day, and I'll never get tired of fucking you." She only clenched around him; his hips then sped up. "Owning you, I'll never get tired of it." He grounded the words out through his teeth.

She whined in response, "please. Please" she repeated the word over and over into the fabric igniting a reaction. He exploded inside her with a guttural groan, eliciting a cry of surprise along with climax of pleasure from her when she felt his chest pushing down on her back as he gave up on strength.

He pumped load after load of his thick cum into her. "Fuck. Such a good girl." She nearly preened at his praise after he purred into her ear those words as he rocked his hips in short, jerky movements as he came, not stopping until he emptied inside of her. Until she overflowed with his cum. “You’re dead to the world, no one knows that you’re alive,” he inhaled deeply. “You're never going back, you’re staying here.”

She felt the thick fluids slowly begin to seep out of her, and she heard him chuckling before his hands grasped her hips to turn her over, facing him she sighed in relief as her body released the tension. Opening her eyes, she peered out to see Jonathan’s eyes gazing at hers, and her heart began to hammer as the blood pooled into her cheeks when she saw his lips curled up into a smirk.

#cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #the dark knight trilogy

[riddler-green]

Tea for three. Prologue

Summary: You have been a patient/prisoner of Arkham for several months since you were charged with a crime you did not commit. But what happens when you meet Batman's latest enemy? the man of the hour? In which you help Batman on his cases, you're Edward's new favorite person, and Jonathan is part of your past that you want so badly to return to.

Edward Nashton x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader, Jonathan Crane x reader.

A/n: Holaaa everyone! here I am posting another story that I thought of in a sleepless night, I think it's one of my most ambitious fics that I've been planning but that makes it cooler! I should clarify that this fanfic is mixed with the 2022 movie with the Nolan saga (but in such a minuscule way that it's barely imperceivable). I'm back from my vacation so I'll update my other work soon! ♡

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so an apologize for the spelling mistakes. ✧˖°. (My English is rusty :´p).

(Also this fanfic is published on AO3) ✿

Warning: Fluff and angst, Obsessive Behavior, Canon Compliant (the flood occurred, sorry) Movie spoiler (Batman 2022) if there is another warning I did not put, please let me know.

Words: 5,400

You stroll as two guards lead you to a room, you don't know where they are taking you but it's not like you could complain either. The guards behind you ignored you all the way chatting with each other as if they were not watching an Arkham patient, they let you into the individual visiting room. Still, you nicknamed it the interrogation room because you only come here when that person requests your presence.

You sit down without a problem in the stiff metal chair, the approving noise of the iron partition sounds throughout the place, and you hear one of the guards closing the door leaving you alone with him.

At first, it was tedious, even traumatic in a way to come to this room to talk to the person who captured you and brought you to Arkham without hesitation. You couldn't refuse to see him, not when the caped man is a colleague of an important commissioner. No matter how many times you told him, how many times you yelled at him that you were innocent, he either didn't believe you or just wouldn't listen. You got tired of telling everyone around you that it wasn't your fault, none of them listened to you.

The metal partition rises completely, and little by little you see the almost imperceptible figure of the knight of the night. He kept silent without sitting down, standing in front of you analyzing you as everyone does nowadays, but you no longer care what he thinks of you, you are practically a hopeless case for him.

"Hello?" your greeting sounded confusing, you were not expecting a visit from him, but you have an idea why he comes to you, on certain occasions he shows you cases of different indoles, also that he has found some clue of the…

"I'm looking for the Riddler" He doesn't greet you and moves closer to the glass that separates them, you can take a better look at him, he's still the same since the last time you saw him, his attire nor his face have changed at all, but you notice something different in his voice, is it tiredness you hear?

"The Riddler?" you look at him unclear as to what he means "Who is that?".

"A serial killer" he informs you, you often hear those terrible words from him, how often does Batman chase killers like that, it's like there's one every week, it's cruel but it's the truth, Gotham is the cradle of evil, hell on earth, some would say.

"And what have I got to do with him?" you ask hesitantly.

Batman leaves a gray folder in the crack that connects the two rooms as if it were a mailbox "I need to know your perspective".

For a moment you thought about rejecting whatever is in that folder, but your curiosity won you over, you slowly grabbed the folder somewhat heavy because of the many sheets stored, on the cover of the folder you can see a CLASSIFIED in capital letters, that fuels your interest even more and you open the folder.

It's a lot to take in at once, you open your eyes from the initial shock, you haven't seen so much blood since your clinical internship days, you close the folder for a few seconds to recover, and you look Batman in the eye with a frown, he didn't even warn you how grotesque the case could be. 

Batman looks back at you completely seriously, he looks immutable and silent. You open the folder again and are greeted by the same disturbing images "Wow, it's something " you comment uneasily.

You see the evidence, black and white photos of the murders stapled to the autopsy reports, it is amazing how this man can have such information. the more time you spend reading the events and the evidence the more disturbed you become. 

Mayor Don Mitchell Jr, mayor of Gotham for several years, you saw him once at a social event done by Gotham University, he was happy and smiling maybe because of the excess alcohol in his veins. but now you look at the crime scene, his face completely wrapped in duct tape.

"No more lies..." you whisper reading the message on the corpse of the mayor, then that was with an already established motive, to give a statement.

On the other hand, Commissioner Savage's body is barely recognizable, the cage on his head says it all.

This is no ordinary killer.

What have you gotten yourself into, batman?

"why are you showing me this?" you manage to ask him even with the murders fresh in your mind, you don't think you will sleep tonight.

The already-seated masked man repeats to you "I need to know your perspective".

"As a patient or as a psychologist?" technically you can no longer practice your career since they took away your degree, but he doesn't correct you, you peruse everything that was offered, the riddles, the pictures of all the letters he has left for Batman, descriptions of the crime scene, write-ups of the witnesses who found the bodies.

"Both" he declares.

The handcuffs on your wrists do not give you much freedom to move your arms but do not prevent you from handling the documents in the folder, if Batman thought this might interest you he was right, for better or worse you did not stop seeing file after file.

"How extravagant," you say your first impressions "Brusque with his victims, he really is angry" You turn the page to see the pictures of his riddles "But he is also ingenious, this is not prepared from one day to another, he has been planning this for a long time, I would say years".

"Angry at who?" the man in front of you asks but you don't answer him instantly, you take your time carefully reading all the research, it's a lot for only one killer and few victims, but it's nothing that can be used to find him.

"With the world" you turn the page to see Commissioner Savage's crime scene photo "The pattern is evident, the mayor...the commissioner...does not kill ordinary civilians." 

"Do you think it's political?".

You barely smile at the mere idea that this is just politics "No, this is too intimate for him, riddles are an essential part of his life that he knows how to use to his advantage...and I only come to one conclusion..." you shut up and rearrange the documents to close the folder. 

"What is it?" batman questions you with intrigue in his voice.

You see him again, he must be desperate somehow to find this Riddler who asks for the opinions of third parties, of "crazy" people like you, something he dislikes, he prefers to work alone, that's his emblem. Deep down it angers you to no end, he hasn't caught your living nightmare and he's already looking for another asshole.

"That" you passed him the folder through the crack in the partition between rooms, and he retrieves it in his hands "Is revenge, Batman, and a very wicked one."

"Give me a diagnosis" he speaks faster, and the anger starts to seep into his face and it satisfies you to sometimes see him like this, frustrated Batman...yeah that's a first.

you smile and relax in your stiff metal seat "You should ask Dr. Crane for that, he's more prepared than I am, don't you think?".

"He refused" You'd know he'd turn it down, he's not like Batman or you, he doesn't even like to play Clue.

"yeah, he doesn't have the hobby of playing detective" you shrug your shoulders "I can't give you a diagnosis because it's little, he has left only what he wants us to know, maybe he includes you in this because he admires you or because he wants to kill you, who knows" you blurt out everything you think without any shame, in your mind you are already putting together a criminal profile with only what he gave you, but you won't tell him that, he doesn't deserve your help.

The masked man's posture tenses and he begins to clench his fists, your smile grows. 

"all that, all those little clues he leaves you make me think this is all a big riddle on his part" You pointed to the folder held by one of his gloved hands.

"I don't think he's going to stop until he sees everyone on his list dead."

What you told him seemed to affect him, because he suddenly gets up and goes to the door without looking at you, and he found no news "I can't waste time" he whispers with disdain, he leaves the room and you stand watching the door where he left.

So it's a riddle against the clock, huh? you think.

The sky in Gotham looks like a landscape worthy to take a picture of, from here you can see the buildings of different heights, the traffic between highways, and the bridges, even if you force your sight you can see people walking.

"Do you like the view?".

You continue to look through the window reinforced with bars and tempered glass, the bars cover part of the landscape but you can still admire the beautiful gray sky full of clouds ready to rain.

"yes..." you say putting your hands between the bars without stopping to think how happy you would be just to be out of this abyss. you didn't appreciate the beauty of the freedom you had before you were here.

"What do you like most about the view?".

You take a few seconds to respond, the handcuffs on your wrists started to itch on your skin, that itch so normalized on your skin that you don't do much to get rid of that itch, you didn't look away from the window, this simple reinforced window brought you comfort for all these months.

"Everything."

"You hear the voice of your therapist repeat your answer and nod, will your cafeteria still be open? The Gotham Library will have finally added new books? the university will have already changed that horrible lamp in one of your favorite classrooms? 

Batman already caught the Riddler?

"What a good answer actually, but I need you to sit down for a further conversation, soon the session will be over" The doctor's professional tone makes you tense up, you feel like you are not talking to a human but to a fucking robot, that's how you have thought them since you were imposed to this therapist.

You listen to what you say and sit in the other chair where you are supposed to be for the whole session, however, Mr. M has let you have the sessions while you watch from the only window, you are grateful for that, even if you didn't like him at all.

"I have been informed about your good behavior this week, if you continue like this you can be given more access through the hospital" Mr.M speaks calmly looking through several documents held by a wooden board.

Fuck you, you thought but didn't tell him, you don't have the luxury of being rude to him. you'll never get the same freedom you got when you were still an average citizen of Gotham and it saddens you, it makes your blood boil to remember every moment of your existence that you're here unjustly.

"Thank you" You speak as little as possible because you know you would break down in tears just remembering that you are another day of your life wasted locked up among so many criminals.

"But" Mr.M stops looking at his documents to turn to look at you "I was also told that you refuse to take your medication, why is that?".

"Why don't I need them" you speak cuttingly again, the itch in your wrists grows and you scratch with your fingernails without realizing it.

"you have to take his medicine...it will make your recovery process more enjoyable" he grabs his tablet with documents and writes again, Mr.M does not scold you but you perceive it like this, you want to go back to your cell, you feel so ashamed that your skin gets hot, how did you come to this? How did you fall so low that you are the one they have to medicate? 

"Fine" you lie to him, you dislike the taste of the medicine they force you to take, you know perfectly well what they prescribe you, you studied for it after all.

But everyone seems to forget that.

Only Batman can recognize your abilities, but he does not help you at all in your case.

And well, you paranoidly believe that Jonathan is only talking to you out of unconscious guilt.

"Okey" Mr. M gives a soft smile "Just one last question before our time is up" he checks the time on his wrist watch "Have you made a new friend? Have you managed to get along with anyone?".

You avoid the gaze of your therapist "No" you denied, another issue you don't want to address, your notorious loneliness in this hospital. If it weren't for your unique best friend who works here, you would be all alone.

"Why?."

You don't answer him, you also question the same thing, you haven't had an interest to socialize with the other patients since you arrived, and there are still things that are not clear to you.

Mr. M sighs dropping his papers in a file cabinet near him "Well, I'll leave it as homework for you to start seeing new people, making a friend sounds excellent."

"I'll try" You don't lie to him.

"Perfect."

It's been a day since Batman visited you and you had your weekly session with Mr.M, you haven't been able to sleep due to the tremendous curiosity of the new assassin the bat is looking for.

Just when you thought nothing could surprise you in this city since your accident, along comes a man with a question mark and puts the whole city in check, that's the city to him, a colossal chessboard, the DPGC, the Gotham elite, the citizens, they are all pieces in the game, and Batman and he are the only players.

Batman said he didn't have time, Does that mean that he has to catch him these days? how curious, with the Joker, it took months to find him, you were only intercepted in a couple of hours, and the Scarecrow...

no, you don't want to think about him.

You get distracted thinking about the Riddler again, you do your daily service arranging books in the small library of Arkham, your safe place where few or no people stop around these parts, here it is not necessary to use your wrist and neck cuffs, but your uniform is still on, and the plastic bracelet with your information identify you as a patient.

You yawn as you place a couple of worn-out books on the shelf, you felt like a bookstore worker, sometimes you usually fantasize that you are one to take away your boredom, but others usually burst your dreamy bubble.

Today, one of the guards decided to turn on the old-fashioned TV set in one of the upper corners of the library, you stand near a bookcase to see what channel they put on this time, usually they only put on the sports channel to watch the game of the moment.

But on this occasion, the guard put on the news channel, and you immediately put down the books you have to accommodate to concentrate on what is shown on TV.

The guard is still standing and so are you, both watching a live breaking news broadcast. The news anchor reports a new Riddler attack.

He bombed a prosecutor at the mayor's funeral.

The guard's face looked more and more frightened, you watched the news with morbid curiosity. Batman's new opponent seems more sadistic than you thought, that detailed report confirmed it.

But seeing their repeated acts on TV was shocking, you even heard the guard who put on the news say in a low voice " We are doomed. "

You silently agree with him, for the first time you are relieved to be locked away from all the chaos going on right now.

You saw how the explosion managed to reach Batman, surprising you as the guard, the man takes off his distinctive security guard hat when he sees the video, on the other hand, you are still stunned, not believing it, somehow you forgot that this man dressed in black and wearing a cape is still a human of flesh and blood, he simply can't die like that, not when he has things to save, people to capture.

He hasn't found your living nightmare yet.

Before you pull your hair out in frustration the news anchor states that Batman is still alive, the guard satisfied by the information puts his cap back on and returns to his guard position which is the entrance to the library.

You are still looking at the report, and suddenly the image of the man who calls himself the Riddler appears. You hadn't seen him in such detail until this moment, the photos in the Batman report were extremely blurry images, but this time he is in HD, he is completely wrapped in green clothes, and the only thing you can see of him, is his eyes. 

His voice is altered but you can notice that venomous tone of his he asked prosecutor Gil Colson some riddles, but in the end, he couldn't answer what Riddler wanted.

You sigh while grab another couple of books and start arranging them one by one. If Batman is still alive it means this isn't over.

"I knew I would find you here".

"It's not like I can go many places" You smile slightly turning to look at the man who spoke to you. 

Jonathan Crane, the living legend of the hospital, with tailored suits, no wrinkles in his coat, and a well-made tie that matches the sweater he wears under his coat. There isn't a single time you haven't seen Jonathan without his perfect appearance but maybe it's just you idealizing as usual. 

Jonathan gives you a polite smile "Right" Just by hearing that you know he won't stay to chat for long, he tends to contradict you most of the time just to annoy you and agree with you when he's busy.

"Are you coming to get a book?" you ask him the first thing that comes to mind.

"No, I wanted to talk to you before I left," he says adjusting his glasses "I'm going away for a couple of weeks to blüdhaven University to give lectures, it will be a simple thing" Your smile doesn't falter, you are touched that he lets you know when he won't be able to see you, and how he manages to keep the conversation so casual. 

As if they were still colleagues.

"Is that so? What will you talk about?".

"Childhood traumas" he reveals looking at you without any shyness, he has a barely perceptible smile but you notice it. 

"why am I not surprised?" you resume your work in arranging books "Although you know how to pick interesting topics, I wish I could attend" You recognize that Jonathan has been too devoted to his work and student life, he is that kind of strict professor who gives his students nightmares from the assignments and exams he gives. His lectures are fascinating, to say the least, you attended many.

"I'll tell you about it when I get back, in the meantime" From inside his suit he pulls out a  flyer in half "It's something extremely summarized but it'll do" You take the piece of paper and stuff it in one of your pockets. It's not the first time Jonathan smuggles things to you, god, you can even be sure he gives you something every time you see each other. 

"Thank you" you thanked looking at his face, he also remains silent looking at you, the eye contact between you is not something out of another world either, on your part, it's a habit that started when you were still studying, you can't help but want to observe everyone around you, analyze them somehow, see their behavior.

Jonathan does the same, but more rigorous and practical, he is direct and not afraid to say it, you see his hair combed to his liking, his glasses clean without any smudge, his eyes examining you. 

You leave your admiring mode when you diverted your gaze a little to the old TV that is still on, the news keeps showing the latest events of the hours, repeating the most recent crime of Riddler.

Your smile dims as you recall the video of the explosion, the prosecutor begging for mercy and the bomb stuck in his chest.

"Did you see what happened at the mayor's funeral?" you whisper to him in a low voice trying not to let anyone hear them, you look with your eyes for the guard on duty but you can't find him, Jonathan must have asked him for some privacy time, at times you forget the influence that the man in front of you has generated with years and effort.

He turns his head for a few seconds watching the news on TV and turns to look at you again with a sensible and neutral face. 

"yes, I saw it, I was there when it happened".

"What?" you utter with surprise "You were there?" there was no sign of a lie on his face to make you think he wasn't telling you the truth.

"Some teachers from the university we went to give condolences when the show happened" Jonathan clarifies simply, you approach him to talk closer, he doesn't seem upset "So it's true? Riddler attacked that prosecutor?".

"He killed him."

You shut up for a moment because of his statement, it's true, Riddler killed him, and almost Batman too.

"And Batman? Did you see him in action?" at this point you sound like first-rate gossip, but still Jonathan answers your questions, but is no longer as pleased doing so, the moment you mention Batman. 

"He arrived when most of the people had already been evacuated."

"Wow" you blurt out surprised, if you didn't know him better you would have been uneasy with his calmness when talking about the experience, he says it without any fear because that's exactly what's so special about Jonathan in your eyes, he's not afraid of anything.   

"Batman looked you up, didn't he?" Jonathan changes the subject quickly and you nod your head, you move away from his side to reach for a cart full of books to be arranged "He wanted my opinion on the riddler, can you believe it?" you laugh "I told him to look you up better, but you turned him down."

"That's right" he assures leaning on one of the bookcases for comfort, he looks at you picking up a book and you place it among several other books on another bookcase "I don't lend myself to that sort of thing".

"I know, killjoy Crane" you scoff boldly.

"Whatever you say" he sighs "I have to go, there will be a meeting at the university" Before you could say goodbye properly, he approaches you to give you an extremely momentary hug, it was so fast that you couldn't return the hug because he had already separated from you. You swore you could smell some of his cologne.

"uh yeah, see ya" You are barely able to utter the words without getting over the small contact they made, he has said goodbye to you like this, but you are still not used to it.

Jonathan smiles at you picking up his briefcase that you didn't see in the first place, walks to one of the tables where the TV control is, picks it up, and turns off the TV "I don't like you watching that" he tells you already heading for the exit where the guard re-enters the library.

You wrinkle your forehead due to irritation. Sometimes you don't understand Jonathan.

You genuinely thought your head was going to explode from the pain. 

Being in Arkham meant being cut off from the outside, you had no idea of the chaos that erupted overnight, the perverse game of Batman and Riddler was so forceful, that Arkham unexpectedly came into the spotlight when the green-masked man was captured. An alert in your head went off when you heard from a very nervous guard. You thought it was almost impossible for Batman to catch Riddler, and that he's here being processed to this hospital gives a lot to suspect.

The report Batman showed you are not wrong, the madman of riddles is too elusive to be caught in such a short time.

Why? You ask yourself, why did he let himself be defeated?

The hospital was in chaos with the arrival of the new patient in the middle of the night, nurses running around, and security guards moving patients to different cells temporarily, you were taken out of your small cell to another one just as small and almost the same.

Even with suspicion in your being, you don't understand what all the fuss was about, not even when they paraded the Joker through the main hall in a straitjacket as if he were a villain from some movie did they get as upset as they are now with Riddler.  

You sat on your new bed just as hard as the one in your previous cell, not wanting to catch the social panic you try to meditate, Mr. M advised you to do so and since then you put it into practice.

Maintaining a state of relaxation is difficult but you have practiced it for months, you started the breathing exercises, and as you slowly inhale and exhale your thoughts begin to melt one after the other, calming you down, and making your anxiety about all the fuss disappear.

You exhale again and inhale hard again, you could be doing this all day, you have nothing to worry about, you're in your world, locked away from society, and must be recovering from whatever Riddler did as his closing snap.

You open your eyes and stop doing your breathing exercises, you hear a laugh. But not just any laughter, but a loud and annoying laughter, you instantly get up from your bed and run towards the door with a small glass window. The laughter was not your imagination, and you can recognize it now that you are closer to the door.

You don't see any guards guarding this section of cells, how strange. The laughter continues unabated. It must be some neighbor of your cell because of the proximity of the noise and you have an idea of who it might be but you ignore it for only a few minutes, you can't take it anymore and yell "Can you shut up for once?".

Your cell neighbor stops laughing and you can finally feel at peace, but instead starts a conversation.

"Scarecrow?" you close your eyes just hearing that horrible nickname he gave you at some point during his hospital stay. relatively the two have been in Arkham for a similar amount of time, both trapped by Batman and calling them the dark knight's worst enemies. 

But you could never compare yourself to someone like him Joker. 

You had a chance to get to know each other when you let him participate in common activities, you don't want to remember the first time you spoke to each other, it ended badly, period.

"Don't call me that, asshole" you insult him and he sounds pleased with your response.

"Ah! Are we sensitive today? It's a holiday! Let's celebrate!" 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"our guest of honor has arrived, only his final trick is missing!" he continues to speak in that animated voice that irritates you.

When you talk to the Joker you get that feeling that he is speaking in another language, but he is not, you understand what you are saying but at the same time, you don't. You also realized that he knows too much to be just an Arkham patient. 

But everyone at the hospital can assure you that your neighbor is not an ordinary patient at all.

This time you managed to understand his words, Riddler still has an ace up his sleeve, how could the Joker find out about that?

"Did Batman interrogate you too?".

"Of course he did...I'm his favorite!" he replies in the same arrogant manner as always "but I don't forgive him for being so crude on our anniversary."

"So you saw it, huh? I don't think this is a coincidence" You suppose the Joker must have seen it too, of course, he may be reciprocally insupportable but he's not stupid.

The clown laughs, but you don't, you didn't say anything funny in your opinion.

"Poor little Riddler, he thinks he can be just like him."

You ponder what he says, returning to your bed as you sit up again, the sky begins to clear and you can see it through the tiny barred window.

What if this assassin wanted to imitate Batman in some way? 

"What a bizarre introjection you've made, Riddler" you whisper.

First, there was an explosion.

You felt the whole cell rumble, you woke up instantly and got up from your bed to run to the door even with your eyes swollen from sleep, naively you thought it was some kind of earthquake. You stuck your face to the glass of the door in search of a guard or nurse, whatever it is that will help you get out of this cell, you don't want to die here.

However, the section was still empty, there was no one in the guards' small surveillance cubicle, and you could only perceive the monitors on, showing the news. 

You heard a completely strident noise, there was no earthquake. You turned slowly to the window, the color was changing from gray to orange.

It can't be.

you rush to see what's going on, you grab a piece of your bed to climb on it and reach the high window of the cell, you level yourself by holding your hands on the rusty metal bars, and you catch a glimpse of what caused such a noise. 

You saw the light of an explosion, the combination of yellow and red colors coloring the sky, the smoke, the fire. The explosion happened far away from Arkham, but you can still see it in detail, then the noise became present, and you grimace at the impact on the walls, but it was not over yet.

Explosion after explosion went off all over the city, from bridges to seawalls, a scene so hard to believe if you weren't watching it right now.

The sight takes your breath away, you are so stunned that you almost fall to the floor witnessing such an act, this is what the Joker is referring to? the Riddler's final trick?

not even the scarecrow did so much damage to this city, you underestimated the man with the riddles.

You could not take your eyes off the explosions, there were too many and well-armed to generate so much destruction. The second thing was the water, the waves and drains getting out of control and flooding several streets.

You grip the metal bars tighter, not believing this is real, but it is. Not just bombs but a flood, was that what he had under his mask? Is Gotham drowning with innocent people? 

It makes sense now, his cooperation when caught, the guards' restless attitude, and Batman's uneasiness.

All.

Suddenly you focus on the bustle of what seems to be your cell neighbors, you didn't notice when they put the other patient in the cell next to yours. The noises came together to form a horrifying atmosphere. The laughter of the Joker, the excited laughter of your other neighbor, and the explosions that went on and on. Even with your breathing exercises, you could not relax in the face of this horrifying event.

Slowly you let go of the bars and stop looking in the window, slowly you understand one thing.

Someone beat Batman.

Thank you very much for reading! And sorry for the mistakes!*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.

#the riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #dano riddler x reader #riddler x reader #paul dano x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jonathan crane x reader

[igotanidea]

The Fear: Jason Todd x Fem!reader part 3

part 1

part 2

A/N: Please, don't hate me for taking it slow :D :D And let me know if anyone wants a tag.

When her phone rang Y/N was halfway through her little science project. She spend last two months trying to come up with some crazy formula that would be the cure to the new version of the latest found virus. Still futile, but every other attempt brought her closer to the success.

“Oh, get lost…..” she muttered with zero intention and zero willingness to pick up, yet still glancing at the screen. Dick Grayson. Oh, ok. This probably wasn’t a social call.

“Dick? Hey there boy wonder, been a while” she answered, still hoping the bats weren’t in any trouble. Grayson was charming as usual, but his cheerful, flirting tone did not make her lower the guards down. And that instincts quickly turned out to be right when Tim intercepted the phone and simply explained Jayson got into trouble. That was all she needed to know, no more questions necessary. She made them a promise when she left Gotham.

“I’m on my way.”

 Y/N knew the boys for quite a while. She wasn’t born in Gotham but for inexplicable reasons her family moved there when she was 10. Her father, much like herself now, was a scientist who was fascinated by Scarecrow’s fear gas and made it his personal mission to crack the formula and/or find the antidote. Of course, he failed miserably, being exposed to the extreme amount of toxin himself and as a result – going crazy and ending up locked in the mental hospital. Y/N was 12 at the time. Her mother went through a nervous breakdown because of what happened to her husband and a few months later ended up in the same ward at the same hospital leaving the poor girl alone.

Hm.

Poor girl was smart enough to escape the claws of foster care for three whole months, just because she was way too smart for a kid her age. She knew where her parents kept the money, she was overly familiar with the way Gotham used to function, what places to avoid and what facilities were somewhat safe. She learned all of that through careful observation. And she had her father’s chemistry and science books and research so it was enough to keep her occupied and not get into any trouble. She was attending school, being the quiet, silent student, keeping her amazing brain and mind at bay just to avoid anyone’s attention. Being invisible was the only way to stay out of radar. Also, that little girl was dealing with pain, loss and rage. She hated Scarecrow for obvious reasons and took her father’s mantle in finding the antidote to that freaking gas.

After said three months however, during one of her experiments, she had a little accident and the little explosion she caused, resulted in covering her house in the cloud of chemicals. Fortunately, they weren’t detrimental for human health, unfortunately the blast was big enough to alarm the neighbors and to make two vigilante show up at her door. Batman and Robin took it upon themselves to inspect the place, since the cloud was green – the same color as the fear toxin, so they had reasons to believe Crane was involved in whatever happened. When they saw a little girl, only a few years younger than Robin (Dick at the time) they were shocked. Or at least, Dick was, since Bruce would never resort to something so petty as “shock.” After a long conversation, batman was ready to leave, but surprisingly Dick opposed to the idea making a point of why Y/N mustn’t be left alone, and what could happen to her and her extraordinary skills in the foster care. Somehow, this was convincing enough for Bruce to take the girl under his wing. After all, she could have been useful.

They revealed their secret identities to her and quickly figured that she would be the best imaginable addition to the team. Even if she wasn’t interested in field op and was not qualified for that, her behind the desk work was invaluable. She put hours and hours of work to create chemicals and mixtures for Dick and Bruce to use on patrol. She came up with the antidote to Ivy’s poisons. She developed and enhanced the gadgets. And yet, her mission and purpose was still to be fulfilled. Slowly, the bats started to call her “The Chemist.” Tacky enough to keep her safe.

She stayed when Dick left and became Nightwing.

She was there when Jason was appointed new Robin.

She wanted to leave when he was killed by the Joker. It was too much for a fifteen year old girl who was infatuated with the boy. Even if she never cried. Never. After all that happened to Todd she became cold, a bit vicious, more guarded than before. If it was anyone else, Bruce would get concerned about the risk of her becoming a sociopath, but Y/n never showed any sign of falling into mental illness. If anything, she became more focused, more observant, more vigilant, more dead-seton defeating all the Arkham freaks running around Gotham. With silent weapon – poison, toxin, whatever. For two years she was distant and unapproachable by anyone, except Dick and Alfred. The situation changed when Tim arrived at the manor. His observational skills, workaholism and insight were perfect complement to Y/N’s ambition and passion. They became the best of friends, forming a real brother – sister bond. The one she never had before or after. Damian who came last, accepted her, but they were both struggling to open up to one another.

She was finally getting though her past when magically, after five years some new villain appeared in Gotham.

“Red Hood?” she frowned “but isn’t it what Joker used to call himself before?”

“Yes.” Bruce nodded

“So?”

“So? “ now the Batman was frowning, girl’s condescending words did not fit in the situation.

“What do we do? Do we  use any of my mixtures on him? Do we tranquilize him? What’s the big plan, Bat?”

“Me and dick are coming after him. You’re staying here.”

“What’s new?”

“We’ll let you know if need for any of your toxins arises….”

The rest of the story is probably known to all of you. You know, the Lazarus Pit, the resurrection and the dramatic exposure of Red Hood’s real identity – Jason Todd himself. Only he was not himself, at least not the one she knew. He was more aggresive, more violent and unpredictable. And even more emotional then before.

One night, when she was walking home from work he just grabbed her from the street (of course scaring the shit out of her) and in some crazy, angry, unhinged words confessed to being in love with her. And then he kissed her.

But she was smarter than fall for him again and fought against her own heart. After all, being a chemist she knew and saw better than anyone what was the effect of Lazarus Waters on his organism. And from then both Y/N and Jason were dragged into crazy circle of pushing and pulling each other away.

Up to the point where she couldn't take it any longer and left.

Leaving him heartbroken. Utterly defeated.

Sad part was that he broke her first.

But Y/N was not completely heartless. She still stayed in touch with the boys and promised them, that whenever they needed her she would always come. Even if the wound of parting ways with Jay was still fresh.

part 4

@pinksirensong

@shadow-pancake9

@lwtmonster91

@your-local-cryptid87

@@princessbl0ss0m

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood angst #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #batboys x reader #angst #dc angst #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #fluff #dc fluff #batfamily #batfamily x reader

[kourtniwritesagain]

Say it with Me Now...Sleep!

A/N: I wrote a similar story years ago, but I seriously can’t find it ANYWHERE. This is my attempt at not exactly rewriting it but doing something equally as fun. So, enjoy sleep-deprived Timmy Drake-Wayne. 

Listen, Tim is well aware that he is not exactly the most forthcoming when it comes to information about his general well-being. He knows that he's technically lying. However, everyone lies, right? Like, Dick lies about having free time so he can help whoever needs it when his shoulders can't possibly hold any more weight. Jason lies about hating everyone when he loves the hardest. Damian lies about never caring about feelings when he feels the most. Duke lies about not feeling like an outsider even though everyone knows he still hasn't accepted his position in the family. Cass lies about… okay, well, Cass doesn't lie. But Bruce! Bruce lies about freaking everything. So…Tim lying about sicknesses, injuries, and sleep isn't like…out of the ordinary in Tim's family. So he doesn't really feel bad about lying to Alfred about getting a full night's sleep the previous night. 

Well, he doesn't feel too bad. 

Tim had, at one point in his life, gotten a full night's sleep. It just wasn't last night. Or the night before that…and so on and so forth. Now that Tim was thinking about it, he'd been up for a full three days. Not his longest record, but the longest in at least six months. Tim is currently working on three cases for Batman Inc., multiple marketing packages for Wayne Enterprises, and two school reports. The cases are what's taking most of his time. 

The first case has to do with Scarecrow. Tim believes Crane is working with a new supplier, someone outside of Gotham. He hasn't been able to find out who it is, but he's at least narrowed it down to either Star City or Metropolis. The second case concerns Ivy, which really sucks because she's been relatively quiet ever since she and Harley got together. Honestly, Tim isn't really sure it is Ivy, but it's got to do with these weird plants popping up around the city that shoot some kind of ichor at anyone who gets near. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for the fact that the ichor causes blindness for up to two weeks. Tim's been working on a cure, but so far, he hasn't had much luck. Hence, he really needs to talk to Ivy. The third case deals with Victor Zsasz…or, at least, Tim thinks it does. There's been a string of near murders of sex workers in Crime Alley. Jason has been working on it for two weeks, but he's never caught anyone in the action. Jason came to Tim four nights ago to ask for help, which is very usual for Jason. Usually, he sends files and assumes Tim will help. Jason's case is Tim's number one priority. Zsasz is toying with people at the moment. It's only a matter of time before it turns into actual murder. 

So, that is why he's currently working on his third night of no sleep. The importance of these cases, Jason's in particular, is also why Tim just lied (again) to Alfred and Bruce about his overall well-being. Again, Tim's not stupid. He knows Alfred and Bruce can see the bags under his eyes, the slump in his shoulders, and the copious amounts of empty energy drink cans and coffee mugs that littered his room. They didn't call him out on it, so they must believe it's not as bad as it really is. Alfred and Bruce leave the Cave, and Tim continues his work on the Batcomputer. 

"Hey, any news on my case?" 

Tim looks up and sees Jason sauntering in, his hood under his arm. 

"Not much. I have some hunches," says Tim. "But nothing concrete yet." 

Jason sighs. 

"I'm trying, Jay." Tim mutters, feeling guilty.  

Jason rolls his eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Timberly. The sigh is in general of the fucking suckiness of the situation, not directed at you." 

"Still…I can't seem to crack this the way I want." 

"Welcome to my world. Why do you think I asked for your help? You look like shit by the way." 

Tim flips him off and then yawns, large and long. 

"The fuck was that?" Jason asks. 

Tim rolls his eyes. "A yawn, Jason. Surely you've experienced one." 

Jason walks to Tim and smacks the back of his head. "Ass."  

"You're the ass…ass." Tim replies. 

"Now I know you're outta sorts. That was the lamest comeback." Jason says. "When's the last time you slept?" 

"Yesterday." Tim lies. 

Jason squints at him. "Yeah…and Alfred is the Queen of England." 

"I'm fine." 

Jason snorts and places his hand on Tim's forehead. 

"I don't have a fever, Jason." says Tim, swatting at Jason's hands. Jason reaches down and tweaks Tim's left side. Tim immediately folds inward with a laugh. 

"Too easy." Jason smirks as he continues scribbling his fingers along Tim's ribs and sides.  

"Screw youhu!" Tim laughs, trying to catch Jason's hands as he squirms in the seat. 

"I dunno, this seems like a good way to tire you out." 

"Plehehease!" Tim is defenseless when it comes to tickling. It's like his brain decides to stop working, and all he can do is curl up and beg for mercy.

Jason spends a few more seconds poking and prodding along Tim's ribcage before he finally ceases his attack. 

"I swear, you're the most ticklish person on the fuckin' planet." Jason is grinning smugly. 

Tim knows he's got a goofy grin on his face, but he musters up a scowl regardless. "And I swear you're the biggest prick on the planet." 

"Go to sleep, Tim. I know you're on at least day two of no sleep." 

"As soon as I get some solid info on your case and finish my crap from WE, I will." 

Jason squints at him. Tim thinks for a moment that his older brother is going to argue with him more. However, Jason shrugs his shoulders, waves a dismissive hand toward Tim, and then walks out of the Cave. Tim sighs in relief and turns back to the computer. He knows he's close to proving it's Zsasz behind the attacks. He'll definitely sleep once he proves it.

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

Tim proves it's Zsasz, but he does not sleep. There's no time. Bruce will be the one to help Jason with the takedown of Zsasz because he's a Tier-One Villain, and Batman isn't going to allow Red Hood to do it on his own nor allow Red Robin to be Hood's only backup. Tim put up a fight, arguing that he could at least help, especially considering it was Tim that figured it all out. He’s overruled by a simple ‘Hn’ from Bruce and a smirk from Jason. Tim spends the next day tracking down Ivy. Turns out, she was working the case as well. Tim corners her at a greenhouse in downtown Gotham. 

"Of course, you're the one working this." Pamela says without taking her eyes off the plant, she's currently cultivating. 

"Should I be offended by that statement?" Tim asks. Tim thinks that, although he's had a direct hand in a few of her arrests, they've at least worked together a few times in the past year to develop a good rapport. 

Pam turns to look at him and rolls her eyes. "No. I was just hoping that perhaps the Bat would be here instead." 

"He's finishing up with that Zsasz situation." Tim tells her. "So, you're stuck with me." 

"Any leads?" She asks. 

That's confirmation for Tim that Ivy isn't behind the plants. 

"None." Tim replies. 

Ivy hums in response. 

"It's not any plant I've seen. I don't think it's even from Earth." 

"Fan-freaking-tastic…" Tim sighs. This is just what he needs, a freaking alien plant. "Should probably get the Justice League on this if you think it's extraterrestrial." 

Ivy doesn't look convinced. "Must we?" 

"I think it's best, Dr. Isley. They're better equipped to find its origin and an antidote. I've been trying to make one myself, but it hasn't been as effective as I want." 

Ivy sighs. "Fine. Can I ask you to keep me posted on how this shakes up? I've had a few too many dirty looks in my direction." 

Tim nods. "Of course."

"Thanks, Little Bird." 

Tom rolls his eyes. "I'm 17 now, you know."

Pam smiles at him with a bit of fondness in her eyes and walks away. "Yes, but you'll always be a Little Bird to me." 

"Dr. Isley!" Tim calls. Pam halts and turns to look at him. "Don't let anyone look down on you, okay? Gothamites don't have the moral high ground most of the time." 

Ivy simply smiles softly at him and leaves. 

"Time to get a sample to JL." Tim mutters to himself as he harvests a few of the plants. 

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

It's day six of less than four hours of sleep total, and it's actually starting to bother Tim. He's still so busy, though. The Justice League is taking care of the plant situation, Zsasz is in Arkham (with Jason nursing three broken ribs and a sprained wrist), and two of the three WE marketing packages are complete. However, not a single one of Tim's assignments is done, and Tim has two more cases to add to his workload. He's slumping over the desk in Bruce's office. He was kicked out of the Cave about an hour ago by Bruce, who apparently needed to have a meeting with Superman and Flash. Tim hopes it's about the plants, but he's unable to spy as he really needs to finish his schoolwork so he can start writing the reports from his previous cases. He's still trying to find the supplier for Cane, too. He’s minutes away from a full-blown migraine and typing mindlessly on the computer when he hears a knock on the door. 

"Tim? You in there?" Dick's voice comes from the other side of the door. 

Tim grunts in response. 

Dick opens the door. "What're you doing in Bruce's office?" 

"M'workin'." Tim winces at how slurred his speech is. 

"On what?" Dick asks; he's behind Tim now, leaning over him and staring at the computer Tim's working on.

"School crap, some WE stuff, and a case or two."

"How’s it going?"

Tim shrugs. 

"So, I’ve heard from a few birds you’re not sleeping much." 

Tim lets his head fall to the desk as he groans. "Tell Jason to mind his own business." 

Tim can hear the soft smile on Dick’s face. "It wasn’t just Jason." 

Tim looks up at his older brother. "M’fine. I’ve gotten a few hours here and there." 

Dick smiles that sad smile of his, which makes Tim feel like absolute shit. 

"I’m fine Dick; I promise." 

"I wish I could believe you," says Dick. "But you’ve got the worst truth-telling record in this family." 

"What?! No way! Bruce holds that title, c’mon!" Tim practically shouts. 

Dick seems to consider what Tim says. "Okay, second worst." 

Tim scowls at him. 

"Grayson, I--oh." Damian is suddenly in the room, scowling at Tim immediately. "Drake, you look terrible." 

"No one asked for your opinion, Demon Brat." Tim responds, barely stopping himself from sticking his tongue out. 

"Tt. Drake, this isn’t an insult. I do truly mean that you look terrible. When was the last time you slept? Also, are you ill?"

"You’re sick?" Dick’s voice is even more full of concern now. 

"I’m not sick! I’m just a little tired." Tim sighs, rubbing his temples. The headache he’s been trying to stave off the last three days is significantly closer than just a few minutes ago. 

"Headache, too?" Dick asks kindly. 

"Yes, because you and the Baby Assassin are bothering me." Tim mumbles. There’s no real heat behind it.

"I loathe that name." Damian says. 

Dick ruffles his hair, garnering a squawk from Damian. "It’s a term of endearment Dee. It means Timmy loves you." 

Both Tim and Damian snort at the same time. 

"Can I please finish my work?" Tim asks tiredly. He can feel a full-blown migraine coming on, and he thinks that he may be overdoing it somewhat. 

"Uh…Tim? You’re not exactly making sense with your…work." Dick winces as he shows Tim the computer screen.

"Oh."

On the screen are just a bunch of letters and numbers all over the place. 

Okay…maybe he really has pushed it too far. 

"Will you please go to sleep?" Dick asks. He bends down in front of Tim, making himself eye level. Dick places a hand on Tim’s forehead, checking for a fever. 

"I will as soon as I finish my school assignments." Tim semi-promises. Sleep doesn’t come as easy to Tim as it does to most people, especially once he’s this far gone. 

Dick sighs, but stands and motions for Damian to follow him out. 

"Drake…honestly." Damian sighs as he takes a look at Tim. 

"Damian, I’m okay." 

"Tt."

The door closes and Tim grabs another energy drink from the minifridge and downs it. With a shake of his aching head, Tim focuses on the work in front of him. 

Three hours later, Tim’s completely engrossed on the last page of his paper for his English class when Bruce comes in. He looks surprised to see Tim. 

"Oh, hey Tim. I didn’t know you were in here." Bruce says. 

"You kicked me outta the Cave," Tim replies. "And I wanted to use your two monitors. I can leave if you need me to." Tim is rising as he says this, he stumbles a bit and Bruce is by his side with Tim’s elbow in his hand. 

"Easy there, kiddo." Bruce soothes, helping Tim to sit back down. "I don’t mind you using my office. It’s free for you to use when you want. However, I do mind you almost falling for simply standing up. Are you injured?" 

"No…I-I’m fine. Just been up a little longer than I should’ve, probably." 

"He’s been up for six days." A, quite frankly, livid, voice says from the doorway. Tim’s head whips up and he sees Damian standing there, hands clenched into tight fists, and one of the angriest expressions Tim has ever seen gracing his face. Dick is behind him, and so is Jason, both looking angry and sad and exasperated all at the same time. Bruce looks shocked, which is saying something. He turns to look down at Tim. 

"Is this true?"

Tim gulps, but isn’t able to say anything because Damian cuts across him. "Do not even attempt to lie. I looked at the security footage. You haven’t spent more than two hours at a time in any one room in this house, excluding the Cave. However, you haven’t slept there either because the Cave security footage hasn’t shown you sleeping at any point!" 

"Damian…I-"

Damian raises a hand to stop Tim. "I don’t want to hear it. You may have no forethought to your health and wellbeing, but others do. And if you are going to insist on attempting to take yourself away from us earlier than what is the normal lifespan of an adult male in America, then you’re going to do so fighting me. And with the current state you’re in, it’d be an even more pathetic fight than when you’re in full form." 

Jason places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, which Tim expects him to throw off. However, Damian doesn’t. In fact, it looks like it anchors their youngest sibling. 

"Honestly Tim, six days? Even for you that’s excessive." Jason says. 

"Bed." Bruce demands. It’s not his Batman voice. It’s not even his angry voice. It’s the voice he uses when he won’t budge. It’s the voice he uses when he’s in meetings and flexing his full CEO authority. It’s the voice he learned from Alfred. It’s the voice he uses when there’s no room for argument. 

Tim tries anyway, though, because he has no sense of self-preservation. "Bruce I  need to finish my homework, I--"

"You have a death wish, Timmy." Dick sighs. 

"You can go to sleep on your own, or I can administer something to help. That is the only choice you’re going to receive for the next several days." Bruce states. Now he sounds (and looks) angry. Tim knows he’s pushing it…has pushed it. He does. He just…there’s so much he needs to do. And Bruce can’t seriously be trying to ground him. 

"You can’t ground me, Bruce, I’m 17-"

"You can go to sleep on your own or I can administer something to help." Bruce says it quietly, but Tim hears and sees the fury simmering there. 

Tim swallows again; he looks to his two older siblings and knows there will be no help. Jason looks exasperated beyond all reason. Dick looks like Tim just kicked his dog and then set his house on fire. He doesn’t have to look at Damian to know he looks exactly like Bruce. 

He’s lost. He knows he’s lost. 

"I…I may need some help." Tim admits quietly, feeling his face heat up extensively. 

Bruce’s fury melts a bit at that. "I’ll have Alfred make the tea." 

"He’s got a headache, too. Add some acetaminophen. We’ll get him to bed, Bruce." Dick says. He reaches for Tim and helps steer him out of the room and to the stairs. Jason and Damian follow. 

"You don’t have to follow me; I’m seriously going to go to my room." Tim tells them. 

"Tt. Your word on this matter means very little." 

"Sorry, Baby Bird. I agree with Baby Bat." Jason tells Tim. "You’ve seriously crossed the line this time." 

Tim hangs his head in shame.

"Not now guys." Dick retorts rather sharply. Tim doesn’t deserve Dick’s kindness. 

"M’sorry." Tim tells them as they reach his room. "I didn’t mean for it to go on this long. Honestly." 

Dick shushes him as he looks for some pajamas. 

"No. Seriously. I didn’t…I don’t mean to…" Tim can feel the tears welling in his eyes. It’s frustrating beyond reason. 

"Get dressed, and get in bed, Timmers." Dick presses a kiss to the top of his head as he and the others walk out. 

Tim does as he’s told. The tears spill onto his cheeks. He knows he’s truly screwed everything up. Everyone is furious with him. He can only imagine the lecture he’s going to get from Alfred. He’s not just going to be grounded; he’s going to be benched permanently. If he can’t be trusted to sleep like a normal human being, he definitely can’t be trusted out in the field. His head starts pounding even harder, and he stumbles into his bed with his knees curled into his stomach. 

"Tim?" Bruce is walking in, but Tim is trying really hard to get air into his lungs. He feels Bruce grab his shoulders and set him into a sitting position. One of Bruce’s hands grabs his and places it on the older man’s chest, right over his heart. The other hand grabs the back of Tim’s neck, resting there lightly. 

"Breathe with me, kiddo." 

Tim tries his hardest to focus on the beating of Bruce’s heart, of the movement of his chest rising and falling. Bruce squeezes his hand very exhale, trying to anchor him, Tim assumes. It takes some time, but eventually Tim’s breathing slows and returns to normal. It has been almost a year since Tim last had a panic attack. He forgot how much they suck. 

"Whatever you’re thinking," says Bruce. "I promise isn’t true. No one is going to kick you out, no one is going to fire you, and no one hates you or is mad at you." 

"Damian is both of those last things. And you’re all mad. I get it." Tim replies. 

Bruce hands him the steaming mug of drugged tea. If Tim knows Alfred as well as he thinks he does, there’s definitely a high dose of sleeping aid in the tea. Tim sips it at first, but downs it quickly, feeling it burn his throat. 

"Slow down there, Tim." Bruce chastises. "You don’t need to punish yourself." 

"I just wanna go to bed." Tim tells his adopted father. Bruce looks at him with those sad eyes of his, making Tim feel a million times worse, which is really saying something because he feels like dog shit. 

"Sweetheart, c’mere." Bruce climbs into the bed and lifts up his arm, offering Tim to snuggle in, which the boy does. "We’re mad, yes. We’re mad that you seem to be unable to take care of yourself properly. We’re mad that you always push yourself too far. We’re mad that we don’t catch it quick enough to help. But we’re not mad at you in the sense that is going through your head. We all love you."

Tim wants to believe it. 

"Not even Damian doesn’t hate you." 

Tim snorts. 

"He doesn’t." Bruce insists, digging his fingers into Tim’s ribs. Tim gasps and laughs as Bruce doesn’t let up. 

"Stahap!" Tim begs. Tim is seriously ticklish on his ribs; it’s one of his worst spots, and Bruce knows it. 

Bruce chuckles fondly as he brings both hands to Tim’s ribcage. Tim is letting out some serious giggles now. He’s trying to fight against Bruce, but the tea is setting in, and Tim’s not the most coordinated person when tickled. 

"Promise to sleep and not stay up for six days straight ever again?" Bruce asks, not ceasing his tickle attack. He digs his fingers in between the bones of Tim’s ribs. 

"Yehehes! I-I prohohomise!" Tim gets out, squirming madly. It tickles so damn much!

Bruce finally stops tickling. Tim sags into Bruce’s side while he rubs his ribs to get rid of the residual tickly feelings. 

"You’re too good at that." Tim tells him. 

Bruce kisses the top of his head. "You’re too easy. I think you may be more ticklish than Damian." 

Now that was interesting information. 

"Damian is ticklish?!" 

Bruce winces. "I don’t think I was supposed to mention that." 

"Oh th-thaaaat--" Tim cuts himself off with a loud yawn. 

"Bed." Bruce says, pressing another kiss against the top of Tim’s head. "No worrying either, we can talk tomorrow about better ways to keep yourself healthy." 

"G’night, dad." Tim whispers, already falling asleep. 

"Good night, son." 

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^

When Tim wakes up, he’s dazed and confused. The sun is gone and his clock tells him it’s nine at night. 

"It’s been 18 hours, Drake."

Tim whips his head and sees Damian sketching in the armchair next to his bed. 

"What?" 

"You slept for 18 hours," Damian repeats, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "Pennyworth has a plate of dinner waiting for you when you are ready to eat." 

Tim scrubs a hand down his face. "Eighteen hours, huh?" 

"With the amount of stress you put on your body, I am shocked you didn’t sleep longer." 

"Yeah…wasn’t my best plan I guess."

"Tt. Consider it your worst. That is saying something, too, as you usually have terrible plans." There’s no real heat behind Damian’s words. The two of them have grown a lot since Damian first came. They respect one another now. They work pretty well together, too. Their form of communication may look especially harsh to an outsider, but to them, it’s brotherly banter. 

Tim rolls his eyes. "Pretty sure I was the one who took down Zsasz earlier this week."

Damian looks at him. "Father and Todd took him down."

"Physically, maybe. But it was me who found out everything. So, if you think about it, it was all of my plans that took him down." 

"Tt. In your dreams, Drake."

Tim moves to sit on the side of his bed. "Hey." 

Damian looks at him once more. "What?"

"I’m sorry for scaring you," Tim apologizes. "I didn’t mean to." 

Damian replies stiffly, "I was not scared. I was mad at your stupidity."

"I’m sorry for making you mad, then." 

Damian scowls deeply at him. "Do you realize the stress you put on others when you pull these types of stunts? We have enough stress without others adding to it with idiotic decisions. You need to better care for yourself. You aren’t a machine, Drake, and you’re not alone. There are others in this family that could’ve taken a case or two. Furthermore, you hate school, so I do not understand your need to finish assignments you don’t care about." 

Tim feels really bad. 

"I didn’t do it on purpose, if that helps." Tim tells his little brother. "I get…focused, I guess. I know you guys can help me, I just…I dunno. I feel like I can do it better, I suppose. That’s really narcissistic of me, I know." 

Damian only scowls further. "You aren’t a narcissist; you’re an idiot. There’s a difference."

"How many more times are you going to call me an idiot?" Tim asks, a wry smile on his face. 

"As many times as it takes." Damian smirks.

Tim rolls his eyes this time. He stands and squats in front of the chair so he’s eye level with Damian. "I won’t do it again."

"Tt." 

Tim places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. "I promise, Damian." 

Damian looks at Tim now. "You…you are important to this family."

"Does that include you?" Tim teases. 

Damian shoves Tim’s hand off his shoulders. "Ugh. I’m finished with this sappy moment. I’m leaving."

Domain tries to stand to leave, but Tim is feeling much better after his sleep, and he’s in a mischievous mood, so he grabs Damian around the waist and pulls him into a hug. 

"Drake! Unhand me!"

"We have to hug, Demon," says Tim. "Dickie will be upset if we don’t." 

Damian is squirming furiously as he attempts to free himself from Tim’s grip. "Grayson isn’t even here!" 

"He could walk in any minute, though. I wanna make sure we do him proud!" Tim squeezes tighter, causing Damian to yelp. It reminds Tim of what Bruce told him before he fell asleep. 

Tim smiles deviously. "I heard some interesting information about you from Bruce." Tim places his hands on Damian’s sides with his fingers curled in, an evil grin growing as he feels Damian instantly still. 

"Drake…" It’s a warning, but Tim isn’t concerned. 

"Damian." 

"Whatever Father told you, h-he was clearly lying!" Damian still doesn’t move, and Tim knows it’s because every movement would tickle with the way Tim’s hands are positioned. 

"Bruce lies at times," Tim concedes. "But I don’t think he was lying about this. Tell me, Dee, are you ticklish?"

Damian’s eyes go wide. "N-No! Of c-course not!"

"Bruce said you were." 

"He lied!"

Tim shrugs his shoulders, pretending to give up. However, the moment Damian relaxes, Tim tosses the smaller boy on the bed and pounces, immediately tickling Damian’s stomach. 

"DRAKE!" Damian absolutely screeches. Tim knows he’s going to die after this, but he’s okay with it. Damian succumbs to laughter rather quickly. He has such a cute laugh, sounding and looking like the 12-year-old he is. 

"Bruce was right!" Tim crows. He scrabbles all 10 of his fingers all around Damian’s belly. The closer he gets to Damian’s sides and ribs, the louder his laughter gets, and the more he squirms. Damian seems to be like Tim, though, and super uncoordinated when tickled because Tim is still alive and breathing. Damian is swearing like a sailor at him, but that’s about it. 

"What the fuck is going on in--oh…now this is good." 

Tim looks at the doorway, not pausing his tickly assault on Damian’s torso, and sees Jason with the biggest grin on his face that Tim’s ever seen. 

"T-Tohohodd! I r-require assISTANCE!" Damian squeals out the last part of the word as Tim shoots his arms to Damian’s underarms. 

"I think Timmy requires my assistance," Jason’s grin turns more shark-like. "How did I not know you were ticklish, Baby Bat?"

Damian doesn’t answer. He’s too busy holding his middle as best he can, laughter pouring out of his mouth. His heels are drumming against the bed, and Tim is grinning widely himself. He’s never heard Damian laugh like this before. 

"Are you guys killing Damian?" Dick enters the room next. "Oh…you’re just tickling him. Try his neck next, Timmy. That’s his death spot." 

"GRAYHAYSON!" Damian shrieks as Tim lightly pinches at the back of Damian’s neck. Damian’s laughter goes high pitched. "T-TIM, pleheHEASE!" 

It went on for two more minutes before Dick rescues Damian by telling Tim to stop. Tim moves off Damian and grins down at the panting boy. "You called me by my name." 

Damian pants for another few seconds, a silly grin on his face. It doesn’t last long, though, because he soon scowls fiercer than Tim’s ever seen and then jumps at Tim. Dick catches him around the middle and holds Damian away from Tim.

"Let me go, Grayson! I will have my revenge!" 

"Sorry Dames, but Tim needs to eat. He needs to sleep after that, again--don’t look at me like that, Tim--and you need to get ready for patrol." 

Damian flips Tim off but stops struggling against Dick’s hold. Dick sets him down and grins. "Everyone’s ticklish, Damian. If you can imagine it, Tim’s probably more ticklish than you." 

"Dick!" Tim throws his oldest brother a betrayed look. 

"Oh definitely. The kid’s ribs are like a 10 on the Richter scale," Jason adds. "One poke to his ribs has him swearing his first born to you. He’s deathly ticklish on his ribs." 

"Jason!" Tim throws the same betrayed look to his immediate older brother.

"Sorry, little brother. It’s true." Dick laughs. 

Tim looks at Damian and gulps. Damian looks smug. No, he looks worse than smug. He looks like he’s plotting. 

"Damian…I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again!" Tim has his hands up. 

"Oh, I know it won’t. I’ll ensure the lesson you learn will keep you from making that mistake ever again." 

"Oh! Are we going to tickle Tim next?" Dick asks. "It’s been a while!" 

"You asshats are gonna leave me alone!" Tim warns. "Remember, I have lots of pictures that I can release on the internet at a moment’s notice." 

"He’s bluffing." Jason snorts. "He won’t post them on the internet, Bruce would kill him." 

Damian’s smirk grows. 

"I’m totally in on this plan, though," Jason continues. "Tickling Tim till he forgets his own damn name sounds like fun." 

Tim feels his stomach flip flop with excitement and trepidation. He’s never been teamed up against like that and has no clue what it’ll feel like, but he has a feeling he’s about to find out. 

"What about you, Grayon? Will you join in my revenge?" Damian asks. 

Tim sends a pleading look to Dick. 

"Well…he really needs to eat." Dick says. Tim sighs in relief. "But I suppose he can wait another half hour or so."

"Half hour?! The fu-NO! Nohoho!" 

Tim doesn’t do much more than laugh for quite some time.

#kourtni writes things #tim drake #ticklish!tim #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #ticklish!damian #batman #batfam #batman fic #batfamily fic #tickling

[nighterwriter]

Birthday Cake

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 876

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason was floating in endless darkness, except this time, he felt nothing but peace. He'd been phasing in and out of slumber since Bruce had given him the day off and he trudged along to your apartment to spend some much requested time together. Between walking to the kitchen and changing his reading position, he'd felt guilty lounging around while you work from home, eyes never leaving the glowing screens in front of you. But you quieted any of his suggestions to help by tidying the rooms or running some errands. With the firmest voice he's ever heard, you ordered him to stay in bed and only get out if he was starving or was about to pee his pants.

The last thing Jason remembered before falling asleep was you still parked in front of the computer, mid-phone call. You'd been receiving constant calls to the point of needing to silence your ringtone to prevent yourself from pulling out your hair. But this one was different. You were whispering into the mic, too low for him to make anything out, but just loud enough to lull him to sleep.

He didn't know how long he'd been out, but it was dark when he cracked his eyes open as someone ran their hands through his hair. The only light came from the lamp you pointed towards the kitchen and another pointed towards one of your bedroom walls (since you refused to turn on any overhead lights, your apartment was filled with bits and bobs that luminesced.)

"Jay." You murmured in his ear, moving one hand from his hair to his cheek, thumbing it softly.

He hummed in acknowledgment, but you only spoke when he turned onto his back and slightly cracked his eyes open. You looked angelic as you looked down at him with a soft smile, eyes filled with sincerity and gentleness.

"Happy birthday, my darling boy."

He smiled softly as you kissed his nose, craning his neck to meet your lips. You pecked his lips a couple of times before leaning back, one hand rubbing his chest and the other still in his hair.

"What time is it?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Time for you to go back to bed."

He frowned. "What about you?"

You push the streak of white hair from his eyes. "I'm coming, just have a few things to finish up. Besides, we have a busy day tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Mh-mm. I'll make your favorite for breakfast and we'll get on with the birthday surprises- all in the afternoon to give your lazy ass some time to wake up and not be grumpy."

Jason snorted softly. "How considerate."

"Anything for the birthday boy."

"All the birthday boy wants is for his baby to get into bed."

"Almost done, Jay. I promise." You murmured as you gave him one more kiss before pulling the covers up.

You sat with him, finally pulling your hand out of his hair when his eyes shut and his breathing evened. You padded back to the kitchen, stifling a yawn as you picked up the spatula and continued to ice Jason's birthday cake. His mom used to bake him homemade cakes before everything went wrong. He recounted the birthdays with a small wistful smile, how his mom would try and bake new flavors every year and make a game out of guessing the correct one. He then told you all the years he spent trying to remember what frosting had tasted like, how the memory of it would lurk in the corner of his mind only to escape once he got too close. You'd decided on red velvet, opting out of the red food coloring and dying the cream cheese frosting a different color to throw him off.

Everything else had been arranged; his presents lay in your hamper and the tickets to Gotham's car museum were tucked into your wallet. The only thing left to do was to give the owner of Jason's favorite bookshop your card and the list of books he'd been eyeing to see if they had them in stock.

You switched the kitchen lamp off as you finished the cake and placed it in the freezer. Alfred would come around and take it to the manor when the two of you were out. Stretching your back, you returned to your bedroom, washing up and preparing for bed. You didn't get into bed immediately. Instead, you stared at your sleeping boyfriend, fighting the urge to tame the cowlick in the middle of his head. Jason must've felt you watching him because he shifted, making space for you to enter the bed.

"You came." You wanted to cry at how childish and excited he sounded.

"Of course I did, sweet boy," You whispered, kissing his forehead before tucking your head underneath his chin and wrapping your arms around him, "I'll always come back to you."

In the darkness of the Gotham night, you prayed to whoever or whatever was up there that Jason Todd never had to forget the taste of frosting and never had to spend another birthday feeling alone and unloved. And you asked the same being to give you the strength and patience to show him how much he deserves it.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd drabble

[hollowsart]

Somehow, trying to redesign Batman rogues is way more difficult than redesigning Spiderman rogues.

Somehow, they aren't inspiring many ideas for me, and much like a lot of dc content, the variations of the characters as a mainline fresh new take on everything is extremely limited in the creativity of variation to their genders and backstories that lead up to them becoming who/what they are. (Or it's left as a one-time one-off thing)

I think we could do with some more genderswaps and stuff, y'know? It would help inspire more creativity with the concepts of the characters. Give more substance to work with.

Some ideas/concepts for what I mean:

Joanna Crane, excluded from her field of research because her methods were too extreme and her research was becoming unethical and against all tules and regulations. Excluded due to being a woman in a field dominated by men within the corrupt city of Gotham.

Oswin Cobblepot, worked exceptionally hard despite her appearance to get where she is in life. Becoming powerful with an impressive influence in the underbelly of Gotham. All stemming from or origins in seeking insurance and protection for her high class club/bar after it had been wrecked one night by thugs. Ever since, she'd managed to firmly plant herself proudly in the underworld.

Arnona Wesker, always had a fascination with puppetry ever since she was little. Due to a sudden house fire when she was just a teen, she lost her collection of puppets.. well, all but 1 head. She salvaged it and kept it for later. Later never came, and her life progressed like a roller coaster of hills. At some point early in her adulthood, she started to hear a voice. It wasn't her own, and it always seemed to come from where she kept that dummy head. The dummy had become sentient.

Arlo Quinzel, talk show radio therapist and psychologist who received one too many prank calls from a bored Joker that ended in his career on the airways. He was highly influential, for better or for worse. Besides psychology, Arlo also enjoyed reading about classical theater and watching performances. An interest of his that had been forced out of him by his family, forcing him instead to go into a more "appropriate" and beneficial field of work. Safe to say, he finally got his wish to entertain through theater and the arts.. albeit twisted into something less playful.

Victoria Fries, a well-known cryogenicist who merely studied the effects of cryogenics on living things, trying to find a way to prevent the death of cells on the body when frozen. In a way, trying to slow down death and aging. Her experiments were done mostly on plants as any suggestions for small animals to help progress her research had always been denied.

Edlyn Nygma, the smartest student in all her schools growing up. She was the brightest despite her dark and dreary homelife. She worked extra hard to prove herself to her old-fashioned misogynistic father, and when that failed, she worked even harder to exceed him and escape the life she suffered through for years. After succeeding, her life hardly picked up. Being forced to work in a small publishing company that made riddle and joke books, the only place that wanted to accept her regardless of her qualifications. The years of monotony and lack of approval to her ideas finally made her crack, burning the place down after. Seeking now to challenge Gotham to prove her mind and self as something worth listening to. Becoming Gotham's anonymous "Riddler" and learning to use people's underestimations of her to her advantage.

Waylynn Jones, ..idk her story could be left alone from the original. Skin condition she was born with that disfigured her, or it was like some kind of genetic mutation that made her look more crocodilian than human, only getting worse as she grew up before finally reaching a point it wouldn't progress any further, leaving her looking big and monstrous.

Salem Kyle, his backstory can also remain pretty much the same as canon with minimal changes. Why change what works? Also I have no ideas for him tbh

Harper Dent, another than could be left the same as the main canon, just swapped around so they're a woman instead cuz we appreciate complex women 👍

#ghostie mumbles #//long post

[enignoema]

"Edward, you've talked before about wanting to outsmart the Batman. Why is that?"

"Well that's how games work, isn't it, Doctor?" He leans back in his seat, fingers interlaced. These sessions were always a waste of time. They were too stupid to understand. "Two players enter into a competition, a battle of strategy and wit. Batman is certainly putting up a good game, but I do intend to win."

"I see..." She writes something on her clipboard. Edward hates the clipboard. He hated the mystery of what the pages contained. He wants to rip it from her hands so he can read what inane lies she was writing about him. "And what in your eyes kickstarted this game? At which point did your crimes become more about winning the game than the crime itself?"

"Oh doctor.... you haven't been paying attention. Batman seemed like a worthy opponent, so I posed the challenge. My very first riddle as 'the Riddler'. And just as I had hoped he accepted. We've been locked in a battle of wits since"

"Your very first riddle? Are you saying..." She spoke slowly as more pieces came together. Edward was a puzzle too. The doctors were trying their damnedest to solve him and Edward was hoping to be too much of a challenge to solve. "Mr. Nygma am I correct to assume you are saying every crime you've committed... every life you've ruined... They've all been nothing but games to you?"

He cracks a smile in response to her clear horror. "Well rounds in a much larger game, but yes, of course. My goal is not greed or fame or revenge, I just wanted a game that would challenge me for once. And in turn I wanted to give the Batman the challenge he'd been craving too."

"What makes you think he'd want this?"

"I'm a genius too. I know what it's like to suffer amongst morons begging for one intelligent soul to come save you." Outside the tiny window he could see a beam of light shining proudly into the sky. Everyone in Gotham knew what that searchlight meant. He cranes his neck to see the symbol better "The citizens of Gotham see the Bat Symbol as a symbol of hope. They see Batman as their savior. Batman gives them a reason to hope.... He's my savior too, my hope too. Batman made me who I am. His existence created mine. It's not my fault you wish he created someone different."

#Only thing we share is one last name ;;HC #;;drabble #;;Patient Files

[psychogirlfriendandsupervillain]

The Arkham Asylum Jig - Chapter 4 Teacher Cellophane

Characters: dk!Jonathan Crane, (she/her)reader (platonic, non-romantic, professional).

Story summary: Dr Crane gets asked to evaluate an elementary teacher who claims self defense for the murder she has committed. But he finds himself striking a deal, as he tries to find out what really is the truth.

Warnings: Discussions of crimes, therapy session, corruption, Arkham Asylum, absurdity, unseriousness about criminality and murder (bc that is the essence of Chicago).

Chapter Summary: Dr Crane tries to get reader to open up during another session, but is met with theatrics.

A/N: So, uh, guys, I messed up, there has been a chapter edited and ready to be published in my document this whole time, while I thought I had to edit it before publishing (also thought I was on the chapter after this), soanyway, here it is, I'm sorry.

Masterlist Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

The chair creaks. “How do you feel about Gotham?” You lift your eyebrows and Dr Crane makes a circular gesture with his hand, searching for his intention. The air is cold, same as in the cells, but not quite as damp. “As a place of home. Do you feel safe, in general?” The greenish light in the room has not improved at all since last time. They really should fix that, if there was not so much else in a similar state. The wheels along the walls are still, the slow whirring of the ventilation taking their place.

“Who does?” When he stays silent you sigh theatrically and continue. “Overall, sure. All places have its vice and blood.” You fold your arms, settling back into the hard seat for yet another session required during your stay at Arkham. The pipes make a coughing sound. The showers must be broken, giving off nothing but drops when turned on. 

“Ever gotten robbed?” Dr Crane makes a noisy scribble before meeting your questioning look. “Personal curiosity.” He waves the pen as if to dispel any mistrust. He is not sure he could, considering he is sitting on the keys to your freedom, but on the other hand, you did hand them to him. Rather forced them on him. 

“Twice.” You cock your head and raise your eyebrows at some memory. “Poor target choice on their end.” Eyes come back to his. They’re back in the present, unreadable except what you want him to see. And what he sees is an unphased villain.

Dr Crane can’t help but repeat your initial facial expression towards his notes in agreement. It really was those robbers’ poor luck to gamble on someone with such a small wallet. “Regarding your profession” He catches. “What made you choose it?” He might be adding a small amount of admiration just for flair and hope. Flattery might have been invented for the rich and those in need of favors, but perhaps what he is asking isn’t so different from wanting a favor from you. That of your truth.

“What d’ya want me to say, doc? ‘Out of the kindness of my heart’?” Your accent thickens and your mannerisms return for a moment. His not so well concealed trick discovered, Dr Crane does not let you have the satisfaction of him admitting it, even though you both know it. He wonders where you picked up the accent, so invisible in the courtroom but ever present with him.

“Is it that not what all the parents want to hear?” He offers smoothly with a tone that promises comfort. He’s not trying to hit a nerve, not yet. Maybe you’ll shine a light through your cracks if he just gives you the opportunity.

“Most just wanna hear their kid is doing well in school.” A boring truth, based on your averted eyes and dulled down tone, perhaps even a sad one. Doing well could be all sorts of things, from staying out of trouble for the less fortunate to bought paper for the moreso.

“Teachers send the future into the world and yet you rarely get the credit.” Dr Crane muses, quite honestly if he were to say so, perhaps slipping just a little off topic for a moment. “Did that never bother you? Made you want to do something to be seen, something to escape the mundaneness of your life?” Perhaps he wants to touch a nerve a little. You are very calm, but not likely to confess thrill killing after too many nights grading papers. Dr Crane gets the mildly annoying feeling that you might be comfortable in his company, not nervous. A comfortable patient was not the sign of a breakthrough in his experience. He pages through his earlier notes.

“No. I actually quite liked being invisible. Makes people forget you’re there, let’s you slip around unnoticed. People tell you all kinds of things when you don’t matter.” 

He doesn’t find anything useful in the ink, nothing that indicates adrenaline seeking behavior. If you weren’t here on sentence for murder, he’d think you were almost boring. He lets the paper fall back and looks up again, a dry, almost sympathetic, smile gracing the corners of his mouth. “Never tempted to shoplift then?” 

“Never.” With his own smile reflected on you, he is tempted to believe you. 

“Well, even if you did, we could not prove it.” Dr Crane finds himself taking on the same conversational tone as he would with someone outside work. It is not as intentionally as he would like to claim. He gestures between the two of you. “And besides, doctor-patient confidentiality.” He’s not sure that that reestablishes the order of the situation. You might not have gotten him fooled, but you’re not handtied either. Your dodging is obvious for a reason. He is your privileged audience now that the court has made their judgement and the asylum doors have closed behind you.

You cross one leg over the other, rubber sole running over loose sand on the floor and the overall crunching as the fabric folds over itself. “You gonna ask me about my terrible childhood next?” Eyes make it clear you are amused, but you are also the one to suggest the game. “It’s not interesting conversation, doctor.” After two months in Arkham Dr Crane wouldn’t expect you to care about entertaining. Perhaps he is letting his full schedule prevent any real progress, because while you do play your patient role well, you play the part of unbothered repeat customer with more enthusiasm.

He sighs, and makes a gesture of resignment. “What do you want to talk about then?”

You lean forward quickly. “Teacher salaries.”

#dk!jonathan crane #dk!jonathan crane x reader #the Arkham asylum jig

[arkhamcalamity]

I SEE.

I see... // Accepting! @king-crane <3

Curiosity. In all it's forms. She's far too curious about your strange little creations and the draw to a costume. But then again, isn't curiosity what landed you within the stone walls in the first place? It certainly got you through schooling and more. Perhaps they're a little too alike in that regard. The trouble with asking so many questions, is that people don't always like when you do.

Broken. Everyone who ends up here is. Even the staff, really. It's an inevitability that the confining space will take the cracks you have and add chips and breaks; stretch you till you snap. Sometimes, people shatter.

Familiar. Banter and teasing, side-stepping and quippy remarks. It feels like Ezekiel. Oh, it's so much like Ezekiel, it hurts more than she'd like to admit. It's been forever since she's felt like that. It was almost forgotten, honestly. Would it have been better to? She doesn't know. Sometimes she wishes she would. The stretches she goes without thinking about her own time are much preferred to the delirious, rage-fueled loss of control that seemed to come when her mind drifted back too much. But if she forgets completely....then what's the point? She wants them to pay for taking them from her, and there is no revenge without a them to mourn.

An ally. If things stay well, their deal's still a good one. But there's a line she's drawn for everyone within Arkham's walls, though most don't know it, and it's the campus border of Gotham Academy. Some things can't be researched on. Can't be freed. Can't be played with. The rest of the city is fair game, it's a reasonable allowance in her mind.

"I see..." a shadow of a brother long missed, "a clever professor. Who could become a friend."

#//this hurt deliciously #kingcrane

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝❞

Pairing:

Submissive!Jonathan Crane x Inexperienced!Reader

Summary:

It had always been a cat and mouse game to Jonathan, starting trouble at places in the city of Gotham just to get her attention while waiting for her to realize he was there for her all along in many ways she could not fathom. It wasn’t until she gave into her urges that it changed the dynamic between them.

Warning(s): SMUT. Both POVs. A pinch of soft!dark!themes. Slight age gap (Jonathan is in his late 20s, early 30s while the Reader is in her early 20s). Touched-starved Jonathan as well as obsessive and possessive. Irrational jealousy. He’s just extremely down bad for the Reader. Just porn with a pinch of barely noticeable plot. Slight bickering and flirting. Choking. Basically spit porn. Semi-dominant Jonathan, but mainly submissive. Brief degradation and name-calling. Praise kink. Brief masturbation. Tons of teasing. Slight usage of dildo in V (f-receiving). Brief oral usage of dildo (d-receiving). Lack of gag-reflex. Anal sex (m-receiving). Reader is inexperienced, but she has knowledge of how pegging works. The strap-on dildo is the paid actor in this. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 8.7k

She knew who Jonathan Crane was when she was fresh out in her first year of college. She went from failing courses in her second semester to meeting infamous Bruce Wayne due to being the grandniece of his butler, Alfred. She then somehow got roped into helping Bruce at her granduncle’s insistence because she was better at being street-smart than book smart.

She met him that night when he was strapped to the chair in the Arkham Asylum and was tasked to watch over him while Bruce was trying to save Gotham.

Ever since then, he had softened towards her despite being standoffish to others. They were never friends, but they were never enemies. The second time they met, he had taken up calling her ‘sweetheart’ which made her stomach flutter every time he did that.

However, presently he was causing trouble at the parking garage and decided to take the mission herself to see what was happening in that area.

Only to turn out it was him with a mask of burlap sack of his moniker Scarecrow. It didn’t take long enough to put him in the restraints from behind, dragging him to the side of the parking garage.

He chuckled once he saw who had put him at a disadvantage, “oh…this is a very nice surprise, sweetheart.” He purred mischievously.

It was his girl.

“Crane,” she said flatly before removing the Scarecrow mask off his face, dropping it in his lap. She dragged her gaze from the horrid, stitched mask to his face. He was very pretty with sharp cheekbones and blue eyes that were so piercing that it felt like they were staring down at her soul. She stared down at him while he was tied in metal restraints wrapped around the railing of the parking garage. 

The feeling of vulnerability was not familiar to him when the mask was taken away from his face, but he could not deny it was exciting. He could only glance downward at the burlap mask in his lap. His breath quickened as he felt her gaze on him.

"Have I been bad?" He finally asked, a smirk curled his lips as he looked up at her.

She narrowed her gaze down at him, frustration brimming at their depths. “That’s a stupid question.” She then tilted her head, “why is it every time I’m in Gotham you cause trouble?”

Jonathan attempted to feign innocence but could not muster up the courage to play dumb. Instead, he was blunt. "To see you, of course," he retorted. "As much as I enjoy causing trouble, I especially enjoy the prospect of seeing you again. That's not a crime, is it?"

She pursed her lips before bending down onto her knees to level her gaze with him. She clenched down her jaw when she heard her boots grinding against the loose concrete in the cracks. “No. It’s not a crime,” she agreed albeit reluctantly before narrowing her gaze at him. “However; it is a crime that you would try to start shit that would be considered as a crime if I hadn’t got to you in time.” She snarked.

Jonathan smirked as his eyes followed her body as she crouched down. He chuckled at her snarky comment.

"So, you don't mind that I've caused havoc with the Gotham City Police Department," he baited, "or that I've escaped Arkham countless times just so I could visit you? My crimes don't bother you. They never have."

For some reason her eyes strayed to his pale neck that was not hidden by the collar of his suit.

“No, they don’t, but it is my duty to ensure you don’t cause ruckus again.” Giving into her urges, her hand reached for his slender throat, wrapping her fingers around the sides of his neck firmly without squeezing his airway.

Jonathan craned his neck upwards, relishing the touch. His eyes widened as her fingers pressed against his neck. He could feel the heat of her touch. 

"You could never contain me," he taunted, his eyes glittering dangerously as he swallowed heavily. "Just like I could never stay away from you. That's what makes this so fun for me — the push and pull. Do you enjoy the chase as much as I do?"

She tightened her fingers on the sides slightly, nails digging into his flesh, “you’re a psychotic man.” She muttered.

He felt her grip tighten ever so slightly, forcing him to choke back any pleasure-filled grunts that would otherwise have escaped his lips.

"I have only ever been obsessed with one thing in this life, sweetheart," he replied through gritted teeth, the pressure of her hold making his words come out as grunts. "You should feel flattered."

Her fingers decided to increase its strength into his neck making Jonathan let out a hushed moan of pleasure as his breaths becoming more ragged and heavier. His lips parted and his eyes rolled back, showing the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“A little harder, darling.” He said breathlessly.

She should have stopped when he started moaning, but she liked how he was reacting to her hand on his neck. She hid that desire behind her mean words although lacking any heat. “No wonder why they call you a delusional man,” she murmured to herself.

Hell, she was delusional for even continuing doing what he wanted her to do.

A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt her hands squeeze against his neck with more force than before, his body twitching and writhing in the restraints. Jonathan's eyelids fluttering, and he opened his eyes and tilted his head back slightly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She was enthralled by the sight of him bowing down to pleasure that was obviously rolling through him. However, it was becoming too much for someone like her. She never had gone further than just the first base with a few guys from high school and college. She sighed then released his throat from the pressure, but still keeping her fingers wrapped around the sides.

Jonathan let out a long exhale as she finally eased him from the pressure of her hand. He took a moment to catch his breath in between panting and shallow breaths. His lips parted to speak, but no words could escape. His heart was beating rapidly, his eyes looking up at his girl with a burning passion. 

She noticed that he was looking up at her with his eyes still glazed and slightly rolled back as his breaths deepened before parting his lips to speak.

“You may have been thinking that you were stopping me from doing what I was doing, but deep down you know why I was here. I want to see you. So, I have to make a little bit of noise to get your attention.” He said simply, pausing before his lips curled up slightly. “And now I have every bit of it.” 

She stared at him, blinking slightly before muttering, “it’s a bad thing to be someone’s obsession especially someone like you.”

“I’ve never wanted much, sweetheart.” Jonathan smirked as he tilted his head to the side. His gaze remained on her as he spoke. “But the one thing I truly want for myself is you.” He felt her absentmindedly using her thumb to tease his Adam’s apple, while still gripping his neck, and he let out a small, muffled sound at her thumb teasing his Adam's apple. He felt the heat course through his throat as she teased him. He could not even attempt to hide the desire in his tone, instead the lust dripped off each syllable. “I used to tell myself I would never feel this way with anybody, but you're the exception. You're not just anybody. You are mine and I want you all to myself." He moaned out.

She huffed slightly, ignoring his possessiveness despite making her feel all tingly inside. “Let’s see, we’ve met when you decided to cause chaos in this city by infesting pipelines with your fear toxin.” She said dryly before continuing, “how long have you decided to make me your obsession?” She questioned, her thumb still gliding over his Adam’s apple gently as her fingers dug into the side of his neck.

Jonathan could not help but recall their very first encounter. It was burned into his brain. She was only on the cusp of adulthood; he had been in his late twenties. His obsession was instantaneous. It felt both wrong and right as he was powerless to change anything about the situation.

"Since you were nineteen," he said through a shudder, his voice sounding broken. Her touch was intoxicating. Each breath felt heavier and more challenging, but he did not want to pull away from her. He loved feeling vulnerable under her.

“I didn’t do anything other than just helping the Batman. So, I don’t know what I did to make you to become obsessed with me?” She questioned him with confusion in her eyes.

"That's the thing, sweetheart. You didn't have to do a damn thing. You simply existed and my obsessive, possessive heart took notice." He moaned slightly under her touch. "There is something about you that pulls me in. They grow stronger every day until all I can think about is you."

She muttered, “you’re an insane man.” 

"Tell me something I don't already know," he sighed. "I'm your madman, your psycho, your lunatic. You know that don't you? I'm obsessive, I'm manipulative, I'm possessive like you wouldn't believe. And all of it is for you. You, my girl, are literally my addiction."

She stared at him, then she used her free hand towards his face, lightly trailing her two fingers against his lips.

Jonathan shivered under her touch. Her free hand's fingers lightly trailing along his lips drove him crazy. He had never experienced such sensitivity, such a tender touch from anyone in his life. He had been subjected to brutal and painful experimentation at certain points in his life. Her touch was a breath of fresh air.

“‘You’re possessive like I wouldn’t believe?” She repeated his statement at him. Still tracing his lips with her two fingers. She could not fathom a man obsessing over her when guys barely paid any attention to her.

Jonathan's entire body was quivering as she traced his lips. He could not help but grunt at her statement. He wanted to deny it so desperately despite telling her so, not wanting to admit how much power she had over him.

"More possessive than you could ever fathom," he grounded out.

She then held her fingers in front of his mouth. His eyes flickered to them, then he let out a soft huff. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” He chuckled hoarsely. 

He craved her, needed her, couldn't live without her. He needed to prove how possessive he truly was. His need for her was more than his need for air.

Jonathan's lips parted before latching on to her fingers before letting them slide into his mouth as he sucked on them, his tongue making slow circles and flicks around her fingers. "Mmm," he moaned out.

As she moved her fingers back and forth in his mouth, Jonathan's eyes rolled back in his head. He licked her fingers like it was the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. He was so far gone that the only thing he could respond with was another moan. His tongue made quick laps around her fingers as he tried to swallow her up as much as possible.

Her breathing hitched at the sight of him being…depraved over her fingers. He was beginning to look desperate for more. She never knew how much control she had over him.

“Do you know that you look pretty like that?” She murmured gently, still thrusting her fingers into his warm mouth.

"Mmmphh," Jonathan groaned around her fingers. Her words were enough to make his tongue go crazy, swirling faster around her fingers. His neck was arched backward, and his entire body was quivering. He could never imagine he would feel this way about another person, let alone have them be this much in control over him.

His tongue would flick down her fingers before darting back quickly to the tip of her fingers.

“Your throat’s all tensed up; your jawline is straining. Your pale skin is getting flushed, your mouth is becoming messy with your drool. Your eyes, delirious in pleasure.” She observed him in his current state. “Yeah, you look pretty sucking my fingers like that.” She breathed, almost shyly, using her free hand to run through his hair after removing her hand from his neck.

Jonathan's entire body was shaking in a combination of lust and embarrassment. He could not deny how much her words and touch were driving him wild. The image of himself with his girl's fingers in his mouth and his eyes rolled back in his head was one he could never deny.

He began to suck on her fingers with even more fervor. It was as if his desperation and lust for her was growing with each passing moment. He didn't want to stop. He couldn't stop as she continued to tease him.

She said softly. “Look at me, pretty boy.”

Jonathan could not deny his girl anything. His body was still shaking with desire and his mouth was still sucking on her fingers, but he moved his gaze back to her, giving her full eye contact. He did not want to hide his desire or his embarrassment, instead, he wanted her to be fully aware of just how much he wanted her. He needed his girl to see him at his weakest moment.

“Do you like being called pretty boy?” She questioned him after withdrawing her fingers out of his mouth.

As she pulled her fingers out of Jonathan's mouth, he had to remind himself to breathe. He could barely even find the strength to respond as she asked him a question.

"Y-yes," he replied softly, looking at her with full eye contact. He felt his cheeks flushed and his heart thudding faster than ever. Jonathan had never felt so much desire for someone like her, and yet he so desperately wanted her to treat him as her baby boy even if it was going to be one night.

When comes the morning light…he will cross the line at some point of being someone he actually was, taking control over her. For now, he wanted her to have that power perhaps to make her feel secure enough to want to be with him.

“Then be a good boy and open your mouth wide.” She ordered him breathlessly.

Jonathan felt himself melt at his girl’s command. Those two words were enough to send him over the edge.

He opened his mouth wide, making himself vulnerable to her as he did what she asked him. He felt so desperate that he was almost shaking. His neck was bent back, and his chest was heaving.

Jonathan wanted her to treat him any way she pleased, for her to take total control of him.

What took him by surprise was her spitting into his mouth. However, when she did spit into Jonathan's mouth, he did not flinch. In fact, he swallowed it down after tasting it momentarily. He could not explain it, but his girl's spit was something else. His heart began to thud out of his chest. The taste of her spit was overwhelming, but he wanted it, needed it even. His lips were parted as he waited for more.

Her lips curled slightly at the sight of his lips parted, “you want more, don’t you?” 

Jonathan nodded his head frantically, drool running down his lips. He wanted more of her spit in his mouth. It was irresistible to him, and the taste was intoxicating.

"P-please," Jonathan groaned. He had never craved anything more than her spit before. His body ached for it.

She saw his drool and reached forward with her thumb, collecting it on the pad of her skin before bringing it to her mouth, and licked his drool off her thumb.

Jonathan's eyes went wide as she licked his drool off her thumb. He could feel his body shiver in ecstasy as his heart pounded harder than ever. He wanted more, needed more. He could feel his nerves in his body growing weak as his body was overwhelmed with desire. The way she licked off his drool was enough to make him whimper. He still held his lips apart for her when he saw her proceeding to build up saliva to spit into his mouth once again.

Jonathan's jaw was slack, his eyes rolled back into his head, and his throat was making guttural sounds. He loved every second of his girl’s spit hitting his tongue.

"M-m-more," he stuttered as he pleaded with her.

She sighed breathlessly, sitting down on his lap to be close to him especially when his hands were restrained on the railing bar behind him.

 He could not move his hands because they were restrained but he was okay with that because he was now even more at her mercy.

She’d let the saliva build up in her mouth while bringing her two fingers up in front of her between them and she slid her two fingers in her mouth to coat them in thick saliva.

As she withdrew her fingers in her mouth, Jonathan's mouth opened up instinctively, hungry for her fingers and the saliva covering them. He leaned forward to capture her fingers before he began to suck on her them, and he moaned softly at the taste of her saliva on her fingers. He could not get enough of her.

Jonathan's entire body shook slightly as she began to thrust her fingers into his mouth again. The feeling of her saliva-covered fingers entering his mouth pushed him over the edge. He was so overwhelmed by her, and the taste of her saliva. He moaned loudly and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he swallowed her fingers as much as he could. He wanted this moment of ecstasy to last forever, to never have to live a life without her touch.

She shuddered when she saw him bobbing his head as he sucked down her fingers. 

“Such a pretty boy.” She cooed softly.

Jonathan began to feel a wave of euphoria as she called him ‘pretty boy’. His ears could barely make out the words that she was saying as his body trembled. His eyes were wide and the feeling of her fingers in his mouth was enough to almost make his heart stop. The saliva on her fingers coated his tongue as he bobbed his head back and forth, suckling on her fingers as she told him what a good pretty boy he was.

“Open your mouth and keep my fingers in there,” she instructed softly.

Jonathan did as she suggested. He opened his mouth wide and kept her fingers inside his mouth. He wanted as much of her as he could possibly get. He was hers now. He would never deny her.

As his girl’s fingers were held in his mouth, Jonathan's tongue continued to caress and swirl around her fingers. He was desperate to please her. The saliva that was from her fingers was enough to make him go crazy with desire. He needed more. He wanted more.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as she spit a load of saliva into his mouth. It was such a pleasurable moment for him that he felt himself trembling in pure bliss. The taste of her saliva was enough to make him go over the edge.

He started to drool again as he sucked her fingers and licked the spit from inside of his mouth.

“I guess this isn’t helping with your obsession with me, isn’t that right?” She teased him softly, enjoying the moment of him being depraved for her fingers.

Jonathan didn't even hear what she had said as he was completely in the throes of pleasure and madness. No words could penetrate Jonathan as he sucked her fingers and swallowed her spit. He was lost down this depraved path of obsession for his girl and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop it, not even if he tried. In fact, he did not want to try, as she had become his everything.

While she was looking at him, she realized there was no harm in taking him to her place. If he wanted to hurt her then he would have done it a long time ago. No, it was absolutely crystal clear that he just wanted her.

“Would you like to come home with me?” 

Jonathan's entire body trembled at her question. The very thought of spending more time with his girl doing such depraved things to him was more than Jonathan could ever ask for. He was hers now. Her own perverted pretty boy to be obsessed with, to play with.

"Y-yes," he sighed softly, his eyes still rolled back in his head. "Please take me home.“

Jonathan's eyes slowly opened as she pulled her fingers out of his mouth and undid the restraints that had kept his hands locked up the entire time. Jonathan sat up and looked up at her as she stood up. His hair was a mess, and his drool stains were visible. He could feel his body quivering still but he did not even try to conceal his lustful obsession for his girl.

Once they got to her place, she told him to sit on the bed which Jonathan eagerly did what she had instructed and sat on her plush bed as she stood in front of him.

He was getting more and more addicted to the woman in front of him, his entire body was trembling in anticipation, waiting for her to do something to him. 

Jonathan had never felt so helplessly obsessed and addicted to someone before and he wanted her to fulfill more of his depraved desires.

“Remove your clothes. All of it.” She said, almost flustered at her own words. She had never imagined she would tell someone like him to do what she desired.

Jonathan did as she demanded and began removing his clothes one piece at a time, starting with his blazer which led him to unbutton his buttoned-up shirt that ended up on the floor by the bed, revealing his pale frame. He was not muscular by any means, but he did have some meat on his bones especially the arms. He was naturally lanky, ribs slightly protruding his skin, but somehow it fit for someone like him.

Jonathan was eager to let her see him at his most vulnerable moment as he removed his slacks and underwear.

Her eyes widened as she took in the immense sight of Jonathan's cock before lust began to wash over her, and her eyes darkened in soft arousal as it began to pool in her stomach. She may have not seen dicks other than what she had seen on lousy porn websites, but she was fairly certain that his was incredibly thick and long.

He was surprised at how aroused she had gotten just by seeing his erection, but he loved seeing her in such a passionate mood.

He began to breathe softly as he knew his girl’s attention was fully upon him.

She then bit down her bottom lip. “Lay down on the bed and prop yourself slightly against the headboard.”

Jonathan obeyed her command to the letter as he laid down on the edge of the bed, propping himself slightly against the headboard. He was in such a vulnerable position, completely exposed to her, but he couldn't care less.

She smiled before taking her uniform off revealing a simple spandex underneath before sliding the stretchy fabric down her body. Stepping out of the material, she revealed herself in a lacy bra and simple bland underwear.

Jonathan's heart skipped many beats as he watched her removing articles of clothing. He began to salivate in his mouth as she finally revealed herself in only her bra and underwear.

She then reached behind her bra and unclasp it, allowing her breasts to be exposed to his hungry depraved gaze. Her hands slipped under the underwear on the sides before sliding them down her thighs, letting them slip the rest down to the floor.

Jonathan felt himself go completely wild at the sight of her body. Her breasts looked like they were straight out of a dream and her beautiful body curves were enough to make him dizzy with desire. He then moaned loudly, and his heart thumped faster than ever. Every part of her body was perfection and Jonathan could not look away. He wanted her so badly, he wanted to worship every inch of her.

She was shy about herself being naked especially in front of a man, but his reaction made her feel slightly giddy and secure. She then walked around the bed to her nightstand get into her drawer. She pulled the drawer out to reveal array of sex toys among other things. She reached down to grab the black strips of fabric which was a strap-on harness. She then pull out a box that carried a range of silicone toys in different sizes. She turned to him. “Choose one,” she softly commanded.

She may have been inexperienced with other men, practically never been touched, but she did not go through life without any pleasure for herself.

He dragged his gaze away from her body to the box in front of him that was set out. Jonathan's eyes quickly scanned the different kinds before he pointed to the largest silicone toy which was in the shade of dark red, and he replied softly with a quiver in his voice. "That one."

Her eyes widened, then she chuckled. Insane man.

She put the box back in the drawer before closing it, then she climbed onto the bed, in front of him. “Prop your feet on the bed and spread your legs apart,” she said softly, setting the harness next to his legs. As she got comfortable on the bed with Jonathan and commanded him to spread his legs, he instantly obeyed. His legs were spread wide apart, and his feet were firmly pressed against the mattress. His hands gripped the edges of the bed sheets tightly as he waited patiently for her to do whatever she had planned for him.

She then leaned back on her ass, slowly parting her legs to reveal her cunt to his gaze that was edging on greediness. She lightly touched her clit with the tip of her finger and circling it to the point where she was leaking with arousal. Then she brought the silicone object to her hole, pressing it slightly to tease it before pushing the thick tip into her hole.

Jonathan was in a transfixed state, watched her spreading her legs to reveal her soft and delicate spot, making his own breath quicken and his heart thump wildly. His eyes were fixed on her, shuddering slightly as she pushed the thick tip of the silicone toy into her opening and he could not look away, despite the fact that it made him jealous and envious of the object. It was so hard to watch her be intimate with anything or anyone other than himself.

Once she got used to the sensation of stretching, she was able to push the object inside and started thrusting it into herself gently to coat it in her arousal. The toy wasn’t even close to the size of Jonathan’s cock, but it was still large. She hated the feeling of the material that was dragging against the walls of her pussy. However, she tolerated for the purpose she had in mind. She pulled the toy out suddenly, leaving her hole gaping slightly, allowing him to see it.

Watching his girl remove the silicone toy, coated it in her arousal was enough to make Jonathan's heart stop in his chest. Even though the toy was nowhere near as big as his own dick, her gaping hole was enough to drive Jonathan's jealousy to immense levels. His fingers were tightly gripped by the sides of the bed sheets as Jonathan stared at her cunt, completely transfixed, and mesmerized by what he was seeing.

Jonathan's heart skipped a beat as she suddenly got on her knees in front of him with her thighs pressed against the back of his thighs. The silicone toy was held to his face, and it took a minute for Jonathan to realize what she wanted him to do.

He looked up at her, his heartbeat rising as he realized she was allowing him to lick the silicone toy, which had been dipped in her arousal.

“Suck it,” she smiled gently, slightly flushed due to not being used to like this.

Seeing her soft smile, Jonathan became overwhelmed with lust and desire. The mere thought of her wetness drove him crazy, especially when it was combined with her smile and voice.

With her soft smile and gentle command to suck the toy, Jonathan's entire body quivered with pleasure and jealousy. He did not hesitate to obey his girl as he leaned forward slightly and parted lips to lick the tip and he let out a guttural noise as he tasted her arousal. Something inside him snapped and he closed his lips around the tip before he began sucking and licking the silicone toy to taste her. Jonathan was so desperate for her to the point he wanted to consume her and never let her be free.

That was going to happen, he was sure of it. A beautiful little thing in a gilded cage, but she would not want to be free of him.

With her arousal still on the silicone object, Jonathan felt completely driven to be possessed by her as she began to lightly thrust the toy into his mouth. He was still overwhelmed with jealousy and obsession at the very idea of her sharing her wetness with anything or anyone other than Jonathan. He sucked and licked on the silicone toy desperately, craving her arousal and trying to keep it all to himself.

“Do you want it all?” She whispered, questioning in her tone as she continued to slide the object back and forth for him.

He replied with a soft moan and a nod of his head as she asked whether he wanted it all. He was desperate to claim her arousal as his own. His mind was heavily clouded with lust and jealousy as she continued to move the toy back and forth in Jonathan's mouth. 

The taste of her arousal was enough to push him to his limits and he began to suck and lick forcefully on the silicone toy in an attempt to take as much of her arousal as he possibly could.

She swallowed at his actions since it borderline in desperation. “Then relax your throat because it will be uncomfortable if you don’t.”

Jonathan did as she commanded and relaxed his throat, allowing her to move the toy further and further without much resistance. He did what he had to do despite the fact that her gentle tone and commanding voice made Jonathan's heart thump with desire.

She reached around the toy and under his face to feel his throat lightly as she was able to thrust the entire toy into his mouth back and forth but very gently. Every time when the entire length was in his mouth, his throat swells up then returns back to normal when it leaves his throat then does it all over again.

“Oh,” she murmured. “That’s a pretty sight, taking the cock in with my wetness on it to the point where your throat has to adjust to the size of the toy you chose.” She moaned lightly; her pussy was clenching around nothing as she was stung by with more lust.

Jonathan’s saliva slipped out and ran down his chin from his open mouth as he felt the silicone toy sliding down his throat making the stretch slightly uncomfortable. He felt her hand lightly stroking his throat as the toy was pushed deeper in his mouth. Her comments on it being a "pretty sight" made him moan softly around the object as he continued to relax his throat even more.

She knew exactly what she was doing to him and that alone turned him on even more.

She then left the toy in his mouth as she reached to the side of his body to grab the harness. She wrapped the harness onto her lower body, strapping it. She then reached for his mouth to withdraw the toy and placed it in where it needed to go.

He already knew where she was going with this idea, and it turned him on even more.

Once she managed to place the toy into her strap on hardness, she made Jonathan feel her power in an even bigger way and it drove him crazy with lust. She had completely captured his devotion and desire and he did not even try to resist.

She then brought her hand to her mouth to spit out as much saliva as she could into her hand so she could bring it down to his puckered hole and lather it in her saliva.

His body trembled from her gesture of spitting into her own hand before coating his hole with her saliva, whimpering slightly when he felt the sensation of her lathering it with her fingers.

Jonathan was completely overwhelmed with deranged obsession and lust for the young woman in front of him. He wanted her so badly and her ability to constantly surprise him with her lustful gestures had completely paralyzed him to the point of no resistance.

“Spread yourself as much as you can,” she whispered, looking at him with a soft look in her gaze.

He complied with her command to spread his legs and opened himself up completely as her whispers drove him insane. He was completely powerless when she spoke so softly, her voice and gentle tone were more than enough to completely make him completely docile.

Jonathan's entire body was trembling, making her place her hands onto the top of his thighs. “Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay? I want this to be pleasurable and not painful.” She murmured, rubbing her hands over his muscles soothingly.

He replied with a soft moan and a nod of his head as she continued to whisper and asked for affirmation that she wouldn't hurt him.

Every time she spoke so soothingly, it caused his heart to throb. Her voice and her tone had such a powerful hold on him, but when she made it clear that she wanted him to only enjoy the experience and that he should let her know if anything was painful, he could not take it anymore. Jonathan melted into her every word and gesture.

She began to hover him, pressing her thighs into the back of his firmly. Jonathan grunted as she brought one hand onto the mattress next to his waist and gripped her strapped-on toy after coating it with her spit quickly, and gently pressed into his hole, teasing him with it. The feeling of the toy slowly pushing against his hole caused so much pleasure and anticipation for Jonathan that he could barely keep himself from letting out a loud moan as she pressed gently against him.

She then pushed the thick tip into his hole with more strength, stretching him, but also pausing to get him used to it. His body went still with the surprise at the thick tip pressed into his hole was intense, but her actions to pause in an attempt to get him used to it made him feel safe.

She then started thrusting gently with the thick tip in and out of his hole. She used her hand that was still on his thigh and began to rub his muscle to soothe him. He moaned softly in response. He was in heaven from her gentle thrusts and the touch of her hand.

“Have I mentioned I love your thighs?”

At her mention of his thighs, his face flushed with embarrassment. "N..no... You haven't," He replied softly, his heart pounding violently with pleasure.

She smiled mischievously. “Well at some point tonight you can use your thigh to get me off.” She breathed. “Do you want more of it?” 

Jonathan’s entire face turned completely red at her reply about his thighs, but his embarrassment seemed to only add to his own lustfulness as she continued to gently thrust.

He nodded and moaned softly, his heart beating so heavily inside his chest as she asked him if he wanted more. "Y..yes please," he replied softly.

Jonathan then shuddered as he felt her pushing more of the toy inside him. His body was completely overcome with pleasure, his heart beating so heavily inside his chest he thought it was going to explode. Jonathan began to moan even louder, his mouth wide open as his body became more and more vulnerable to her control. It felt like she was taking over his body, mind, and soul, and it was the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

She picked up on his pleasure. “Do you want me to be gentle?” She questioned, her hand still rubbing his thigh.

Jonathan replied softly with a moan and a negative shake of his head as he felt his heart throb with pleasure as her hand rubbed his thigh.

He enjoyed her gentleness, but he wanted something more than that. He wanted her to take control and dominate him completely the way he would’ve done to her if he was in control, and he wanted to be used by her.

He continued to whimper softly as she teased him further with the toy's girth.

She chuckled, studying him and his body language as she teased him. “I still got more left, and you want me to be rough?” 

He nodded his head eagerly in response as she continued to chuckle. When she confirmed her assumption that he wanted more from the toy, he was completely overwhelmed with lust and began to beg softly.

"Y-yes please, don't be gentle. Give it to me…please." He moaned, his voice getting a bit higher than usual as she made his heartbeat even faster and his entire body even more vulnerable.

She then moved her hands, “Oh, you want it all?” She asked teasingly.

He nodded as she placed her forearms on the mattress on both sides of his chest. Hearing her teasing and her question of whether or not he wanted it all made his entire body shudder with bliss and desire.

"Yes,” he hissed softly. “I want it all. I want you." Jonathan moaned, his voice still higher and his entire body going slightly limp from her teasing. It was getting harder for him to even speak from the pleasure.

Jonathan opened his eyes and looked into her gorgeous eyes as she gently said, "look at me.” He could not help but be entranced by her beautiful eyes, even in his current state of complete and utter submission.

Her teasing was pushing him over the edge of no resistance, and he could feel his entire body tensing with tension and lust. He was completely helpless and wanted her control more than anything, even though he knew she would push him past his breaking point.

He would welcome it because he was hers.

He then yelped as the entire toy's length was slammed into him so suddenly. His mouth was parted, jaw slacking, his eyes were rolled back into his head, and his entire body was tensed with tension as he arched his back. He was completely consumed with lust and the pleasure that she was giving him.

"Yes." He grunted softly, his body tensing as she commanded his entire body, moaning at her sudden rough thrusts, his whole body tensing up from the sensation of her taking control of him.

Her every move was making him go insane with pleasure, but at the same time he felt like he was past the edge of no return and just wanted her dominance to be pushed as far as she wanted to push it.

Jonathan was in a complete state of obsession, but he welcomed it and reveled in her aggression.

She then leaned down towards his neck, and he shuddered as she began to lick his skin.

Her tongue on his neck combined with her rough thrusts led him to moan even louder than before. His entire body quivered as her tongue added that extra element to his already overwhelming feeling of obsession and lust for her.

It felt like she had completely taken over Jonathan's body and he accepted his position of total submissiveness.

“It’s such a shame that I can’t feel how tight you are,” she huffed teasingly against his pale skin. “I’m almost jealous of the silicone toy for experiencing it and not me.” She said playfully, nibbling onto his skin.

He bit his lip as she nibbled on his neck and teased him by expressing her jealousy of the silicone toy for experiencing Jonathan's tightness instead of her.

His entire body shuddered, and he let out another moan, his heart pounding violently against his chest.

Jonathan could feel that she was trying to get a rise out of him by teasing and mocking him, but the effect was actually the opposite. He was completely enraptured by her teasing.

“Such a pretty sight. You are arching your back, your neck strained, your eyes rolling back into your head and your mouth agape.” She purred before licking a stripe in the curve of his neck playfully.

He moaned softly as she described his current state. She was right as Jonathan's head was thrown back, his neck was tight, his eyes were rolled back into his head, and his mouth was left agape.

She decided to rub her stomach against his massive appendage as she thrusted into him.

He didn't even realize he was breathing so hard and heavily, but he couldn't help but moan loudly at her actions.

His entire body was quivering with such pleasure that his heart was beating so fast that there was even a chance he felt lightheaded.

It was as if she was causing his heart to explode.

“Touch yourself,” she whispered.

His heart was pounding so hard even through the sheer pleasure of her actions that Jonathan could only nod before he dragged his hand between them, his hand was shaking lightly before he curled his fingers around his thick cock. His breaths were coming in forms of shuddering and shaky due to how she was now controlling him in every aspect, down to his own touch.

He whimpered softly as she moaned when she felt his knuckles gliding against her stomach, causing her skin to break out in goosebumps as he touched himself.

The sound of her moan was so sexy to him, and he was barely able to keep himself under control as she clearly was enjoying him using his own touch as per her command.

He was now completely enraptured and mesmerized by her and her actions, the way she was enjoying controlling his touch was one of the hottest things Jonathan ever witnessed.

“When was the first time you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

His entire face turned red, and his voice was shaky as he replied, "When I first saw you, I went home that night and could only think of you."

He was embarrassed as she had completely brought that secret memory up to the surface and exposed it for her. He panted softly as he gripped himself tighter, dragging his fist over his shaft.

“Oh, so you’ve wasted a lot of cum over the years when it should’ve been inside me.” She said teasingly, smirking down at him, her eyes shined with mirth.

Jonathan was so mortified and embarrassed that she would know just how deep his obsession went down to the most private and intimate moments, but he simultaneously enjoyed his girl having such knowledge of him and being able to make him feel this way. His obsession was only building to unprecedented levels of desire as she continued to tease him like this.

“Don’t be ashamed.” She cooed softly. “I think it’s attractive. A man like yourself who is the most feared and respected professor and villain of Gotham…who also barely looked at women…is reduced to pleasuring to the thoughts of me after we met.” She purred.

Her teasing about his obsession with her reduced his pride even more and he couldn't help but blush even more as she went on and on about how he barely looked at women but was completely aroused by her.

His eyes rolled back into his head as she removed his wrist from his cock before grabbing his other wrist and pushed them above his head, pressing into the pillows before pushing herself into him fully and starting to thrust hard.

Jonathan let out a soft moan from the sensation of her body moving up and down with rough thrusts combined with her grasp on his wrists and keeping them above his head.

Jonathan was almost brought to his breaking point from her rough movements right now and he knew he would not be able to hold back for much longer.

She was looking down at him with soft lust in her eyes “You look so pretty looking all fucked like this.” She breathed. “Mine.” She purred.

His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes were still rolled back as her words of owning him were making him feel more and more helpless and he knew it was the truth. He was his girl's for the moment and the only thing on his mind was her control.

His back arching increased as her thrusts became harder and deeper. His mouth was still left wide open in surprise and moans of pleasure as her actions became more and more powerful.

Jonathan’s heart was now pounding, and he felt lightheaded as her control became more intense and the thrusts became more deep. His head suddenly went completely empty, and his entire body was simply acting on her.

“This is smaller than your cock.” She breathed and he was barely able to gasp she pointed out how much bigger Jonathan was in comparison to the toy his girl was currently using to dominate him. She continued, “imagine you taking me like this with the size of your cock.” 

His eyes then widened at her comment, and his mind went completely blank once she suggested he imagine taking her in the same way with the size of his own cock.

His lust increased exponentially, and he was completely overwhelmed and enraptured by her dominance and her words currently.

She switched one hand to hold both of his wrists as much as she could, and her hand trailed down between them until she reached to touch his cock making him release a soft moan. Wrapping her fingers around it, she could not even hold it completely due to his size, and somehow it sent a shiver down her spine.

In Jonathan’s current state of obsession and lust, he felt completely overwhelmed and consumed by her touch on all levels.

Her lips parted to spit onto his cock below her, wanting to see his girth coated in her saliva.

His jaw hung open and his eyes rolled back in his head as his girl’s spit dribbled onto his thick cock, and he felt her fingers rubbing her saliva all over it.

He was completely enraptured by her actions at the moment, and his heartbeat so violently that he felt like it would explode.

Jonathan bit his lip as his eyes refocused momentarily as she thrusted into him, and then his body shuddered when she leaned down to his lips and coated them with a swaddle of saliva in a teasing manner.

Jonathan’s eyes were rolled back, and he let out another soft moan as his heart rate increased even more and his desire for her surged beyond reason. He immediately parted his lips to slip his tongue out to collect her spit off his lips before swallowing what was collected on his tongue.

“You’re such a slut for my saliva.” She purred softly. “My pretty slut.” She said teasingly.

He whimpered softly as her words and actions had his entire mind completely blank of everything other than her.

The combination of her saliva dripping down his lips, her rough thrusts, and her dominant behavior was making his lust completely blown out of proportion, and he began to moan in pleasure once more.

She increased more force to her thrusts, releasing his heavy cock to grab his other wrist again so she could make him feel the force of her thrusts as she let more saliva from her mouth to coat his lips. She was more closer to his face when she held both of his wrists in her hands, towering over him as much as she could.

His eyes were still rolled back, and he let out a louder moan as the sensation and force of her current actions overwhelmed him on every level.

Jonathan whimpered softly as she leaned down and teased his lips with her own.

He wanted his girl’s lips to meet his own so badly that it made his heart rate accelerate even more and he let out a guttural moan.

His thoughts were completely consumed by her all over again and the desire to kiss her right now.

Her grip on Jonathan’s wrists suddenly became nonexistent. The moment she released his wrists caused Jonathan to feel such a sense of relief and need for her that even the brief moment of release heightened his desire for her. He immediately moved to lean forward slightly and captured her lips with his forcefully.

She gasped in surprise when she felt his arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her closer to him, making her flush against him completely. Her thighs were pressing against the back of his thighs firmly.

His heart rate rose sharply, and he let out a pleased moan as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close in an intense kiss.

Jonathan's kiss was a fierce expression of his all-consuming passion for his girl, his desire to kiss her right now was greater than he imagined.

He couldn't even begin to describe just how much he loved his girl right now and how obsessed he was. He was sure it could be his downfall, but he had stopped caring the moment he met her.

She raised her arm to grab the headboard, pulling herself up a bit while her other hand reached to curl her hand around the railing as a leverage to add strength into her thrusts as she pushed her hips into him.

He moaned and shuddered in pleasure as she forcefully thrusted into him and kissed him almost sloppily due to the intensity that arose between them.

It made the thrusts even more intense for him, and his own movements were more aggressive for her as he tried to compensate with the pace of her thrusts being so forceful.

His heart was pounding as his lips were border-lining violently against her lips, his tongue battling hers for dominance, almost as if he was trying to consume his girl with himself.

“My pretty slut,” she murmured into his mouth, and his breath quickened, moaning softly in return.

Her murmurs to him were a complete turn on for him and he immediately let out a deeper moan and wrapped his arms around his girl's waist in a tighter grasp, his fingers digging into the curve of her spine.

She felt his cock began to swell even more as a sign of upcoming release. “What’s happening,” she asked teasingly into his mouth, anticipating the inevitable.

Jonathan groaned between kisses and murmured into her mouth, "you know exactly what's happening."

Her behavior the entire time they have spent together was completely bringing out a side of him that even Jonathan couldn't comprehend at that moment, but he felt completely enraptured and obsessed by his girl like never before, and he had no idea how he could handle the emotions and feeling that was currently running through his body and his mind.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #the dark knight trilogy #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Crack idea: Frost Manor and Crane Manor are neighbors, and Frost Manor is all crisp white and parts are made of real Diamond and it has lush gardens surrounding it, then Crane Manor looks like a literal horror movie abandoned house

#crack since the Cranes are in Gotham #and I have no fucking idea where Frost Manor is I guess Star City lol #cause I never decided but Star City i suppose lol

[huntingingoodwill]

if i love you, is that a fact or a weapon? - part i

masterlist

fill out this form to be in my taglist :)

pairing: jonathan crane x hero reader

tw: blood, violence (hand-to-hand combat scenes, aka, everybody was kung fu fighting)

a/n: combat baby. don't have much to say but i hope you guys enjoy :) hero reader fights jc pow pow. this will devolve into yandere territory eventually so yeah. please consider interacting if you liked it okay bye <3

It was cramped in the Batmobile’s trunk.

You wondered why Bruce didn’t drive a sedan. Spacious for when you smuggled yourself onboard to help hunt down Scarecrow, and probably more inconspicuous too.

As soon as you heard from your extensive eavesdropping, crouched in a dark corner of the Batcave (being a cave, it had an abundance of dark corners to crouch in), that Bruce received a message about Scarecrow’s whereabouts, you huddled yourself into the compartment used to pack extra equipment, a decision you started to regret as your back ached being hunched over for so long.

The vehicle growled to a stop and you lifted your leg to your chest before kicking up into the door, over and over again.

Suddenly, the door gave way and clicked open. You were about to celebrate when it swung upward, revealing Bruce glaring down at you.

“Hi... Brucey.” You said awkwardly, smiling as sweetly as possible. Caught red-handed.

He grabbed your arm and you tumbled out onto the sidewalk.

“What do you think you’re doing here?!” Bruce hissed at you, and you felt like a kid being scolded by their babysitter.

He really was kind of like a babysitter to you, but you were ever thankful for it. You had met Bruce at a charity event for his foundation, one where he provided Gotham U. scholarships for students in need. You, being one of the scholarship students, and having the passion for learning so valued at his scholarship programme, followed him away from the party, sneaking into the Batcave.

After he caught you and got over his initial blinding fury, a sort of fondness grew between you two. You were both alone in the world. People like you had to stick together.

But from the look in his eyes right now, you knew he wanted more than anything for you two to be apart.

“Surprise! I’m joining you.” You reached back into the compartment, fishing out your motorcycle helmet before pulling it over your head.

“Absolutely not.” He knocked on your helmet a little too hard, the hollow noise ringing in your ears. “You know you only need to wear that on your bike, right?”

“Yes, I am. He’ll have his… henchcrows there. You’ll need all the help you can get. As for the helmet, I refuse to be the only one without a mask when his toxin makes an appearance.”

Bruce looked around, feeling a rush of annoyance coursing through him. It was the dead of night, and the lights from the city shining against the tall warehouses surrounding you cast long shadows across his irritated face. He sighed. “Fine. Stay close. Remember what I’ve taught you.”

Since taking you under his… batwing, he’d been training you in basic combat.

You’d already known how to fight beforehand, though. Life hadn’t been particularly kind to you.

You nodded seriously, saluting. He rolled his eyes at the gesture before marching toward the building, you trailing close behind him.

The two of you inched through the darkened warehouse. It was dilapidated, and the pale moonlight cast itself across the floorboards that creaked under your feet. You rounded a corner to see the glow of fluorescent lights shining through the crack in a door.

You and Bruce remained pressed against the wall, peering into the room.

It was him. Your eyes followed Scarecrow as he marched through the room, gazing at a couple of henchcrows lugging around gargantuan crates, probably filled with canisters of his toxin.

You watched as he moved amongst them, the clean, straight lines of his suit juxtaposing the ripped burlap fibres protruding from the stitching of his mask. One of his men stood by his side, and you could hear the deep, low rumbles of his voice as he talked to him.

Suddenly, he froze, prompting the men around him to pause. He swung his head around, scanning the area.

“He’s here.” He whispered.

Bruce held his hand out toward you, extending his gloved fingers. 3, 2, 1.

The two of you flung the door open, pouncing into the room. Scarecrow’s henchmen swarmed around you, and you noticed, gratefully, there were only four. Outnumbered, sure, but you’d be able to handle it.

One particular man reared back, swinging at you. You ducked, kicking his feet out from under him and listening as he collapsed on the ground with a thump. You wrestled yourself out of a chokehold, slamming your elbow into a man’s stomach as you watched Bruce knock another to the ground.

You heard the clanging of metal and whipped your head around, watching as Scarecrow leapt up the stairs, his feet pounding against the steps. You snarled as you watched him skid past a corner. You couldn’t let him escape that easily. You wriggled yourself out of his henchman’s grasp, chasing after him.

Your feet slammed against the ground as you tailed him, hot on his heels as you followed him through a maze of long, dark corridors.

He turned into a room and you slid to a stop behind him, standing in the doorway as he turned, looking at you, tucking his hands into his suit jacket as his eyes ran over you.

Nowhere to run now.

“Batman. You look… different.” He spoke, and you could hear his smug smile in his voice.

Smartass.

You grabbed onto the doorframe, using it as leverage to swing yourself forward, ramming your foot into his ribs.

He groaned, hunching over and stumbling backward. You scoffed, striding toward him. You took advantage of him being crumpled over from the first blow to launch another punch, one that he managed to catch before it landed, his grip strong on your arm. He dug his fingers into your flesh. A hiss of pain left your mouth through your gritted teeth.

You continued sparring with each other, and he put up a good fight, your skin burning at the exertion, stinging where he had managed to land a couple hits. He grabbed onto your forearms, pulling you close before slamming you against the wall. You grunted on the impact, swaying back and forth. He took the opportunity to wrestle you to the ground, pressing his forearm against your neck to pin you down, his knees holding down your thighs. A gasp of pain cut through your panting as he leaned in to look at you, his mask swimming in your line of vision. He flipped up the visor of your helmet to look into your eyes.

“I like you. You’re a better fight than Bats, more challenging.” He laughed as you struggled underneath him, scowling at his nonchalance. It annoyed you. You slammed your head into his forehead, hitting him with a satisfying crack. He composed himself before ripping your helmet off, tossing it aside. The blood you managed to draw from him pooled through the fabric of his mask, dripping down onto you, drawing a hot scarlet trail down your neck. You turned your head away, trying and failing to hide your face before he grabbed you by the jaw, forcing you to look at him as you squirmed, trying to push him off of you. He ran his thumb over your cheekbone, and your skin felt like it was on fire underneath where his finger had traced. “Prettier too. But where’s your hero now?”

You ignored his mocking tone. “Your turn.” You snarled, hooking your leg through his, flipping him over onto his back. You clawed at his collar to pin him down, your free hand holding down his arms. You pushed yourself up, sinking your teeth into his mask and pulling it off of him, spitting it out beside him. You met his gaze, looking at his now-revealed face. He grinned at you, his bright teeth slick with spit as he bared them. His eyes flashed wildly at you, his skin slick with sweat as his chest heaved.

“Like what you see?” He smirked.

“Underwhelming.” You growled.

He chuckled. “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened. How the fuck did he know your name? You heard footsteps in the doorway. “Give it up, Scarecrow.” Bruce bellowed.

The man beneath you ignored him, tilting his head up at you almost amiably. You furrowed your eyebrows. “You might want to put that helmet of yours back on. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt, now, would we?” As soon as the words left his smiling lips, you heard a high-pitched beeping. You swung your head toward the source of the noise, meeting a canister in the corner of the room, a time-sensitive device attached to it flashing red. His toxin. Shit.

He wrenched himself away from you, pulling on his mask and, to your confusion, pushing your helmet toward you. You grabbed it, sliding it onto your head. You dashed out of the room, the canister exploding with a thunderous bang as the toxin billowed in clouds of gas behind you. It clouded your vision as you tried to keep up with Bruce, stumbling toward the exit.

You burst through the doors of the warehouse, breathless as you stood outside. You turned to stare at the warehouse, wisps of toxin escaping the shattered windows, the empty frames gaping like wounds against the rundown building, the red light from the cop cars that had just pulled up to the scene splashing across the walls like blood. You stood still, trying to listen for him. Any lingering sign of his presence. He was gone.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfiction #jonathan crane imagines #jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #dc imagine #dc fics #dc fic #dc imagines #nolanverse #dc #nolanverse imagine #batman #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy imagines #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fic #batman begins #if i love you is that a fact or a weapon

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Reader SERIES

“GLASS WALLS”

-CHAPTER 5-

WARNING(S): Some violence, not a lot.

CHARACTER(S): Bruce Wayne, x Reader  (Robert Pattinson) (Or your choice of Bruce Wayne), Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)

SYNOPSIS COMING SOON... HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MOVIE.

-CHAPTER 1-      -CHAPTER 2-     -CHAPTER 3-     -CHAPTER 4-

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Glass doesn’t just break- it shatters. And when it shatters, it gets messy, and it is hard to clean up. No one prepared me for the “everyone shatters at one point” thing. My world shattered a week after finding out Bruce was the Batman. After Bruce left my parents house the morning after figuring out he was Gotham’s Dark Knight-- I didn’t see him for five days. I took many trips to Wayne Manor within those five days and they all ended the same way:

“Alfred, is Bruce home?” I asked his butler after entering the manor. “Not right now Ms. Y/L/N.” he would say as he was cleaning something. Day after day, I would sit there and wait for hours for Bruce to get home. No matter how long I waited, he never came. When I figured out he was the Batman, I thought we would be closer. I thought I finally made it into his “glass walls”, but I didn’t.

After hearing every excuse in the book from Alfred, I decided to stop going by. One day, at the office, I decided to call Bruce. It rang a few times and went straight to voicemail. “Hey, uh, Bruce. I think we need to talk... you know where to find me and you know my number. So please, come by, or call me back. I love you.” I said quickly and I slammed the phone down on the base.

Looking around the room, I tried to find something that would give my anxious mind and thoughts a rest. A stack of papers on the corner of my desk caught my eye. When did we start using black envelopes? I thought to myself. I picked up my silver letter opener, and slit the top of the envelope.

It was a thick piece of paper with a polaroid hanging on the back of the sheet of paper. I opened up the folded paper and began to read:

Dearest Y/N,

It has been a long time since we have seen each other. Your father pushed me away after he took me in and threw me to the curb when I finally got to a good spot in my career. You were 18 when I was finishing college; I hate to say but I fell in love with you.

Remember that conversation we had about fear? I successfully conquered fear and I want you to too. Soon, we will see each other again, because I want at least one fearfully, happy ending.

Doctor Jonathan Crane.

The photo was of me asleep in my apartment, how did he get in there? My heart began to pound in my chest; fear engulfed my entire being. I tossed the letter on my desk and stared at it. Why was he writing me? How did this letter get into my office? How did he get into my office? Questions were running through my mind without a pause. “Ms. Y/L/N?” My secretary’s voice brought me out of fearful trance. “Are you alright?” She asked and I turned to face her. “Oh, yes, I’m.. I’m fine...” I say and she gave me a concerned look. “Would you like me to call Mr. Wayne before I leave?” She asked.

I was dumbfounded; it was already night? “Oh uh...  yes, please. And if he doesn’t answer call Alfred Pennyworth.” I say as I jotted the Manor’s phone number. “Here. Thank you, and have a good night.” I say and she gave me a small wave as she left my office. I read the letter once more and a shiver crept up my spine. My phone began to ring once I got up to leave, “Hello?”

“Y/N....Y/N, are you there?” Bruce’s voice cracked on the phone. “Bruce? I haven’t heard from you in almost a week...”

“Y/N are you there?”

“Bruce? Can you hear me?”

The lights began to flicker and then the power was out. I gasped and sat the phone down on its base. I heard gun shots come from a lower floor level; I panicked. Standing up from my desk, I quickly walked to the staircase, my heels clicked across the floor, “Hey boss, what do we do with her?”  I heard a man’s voice in the stairwell. “Get rid of her and then go find Y/N. I need her alive.” Crane’s voice echoed to the top of the stairs. 

I took my heels off and began to run up the stairs that led to the roof. My heart was pounding and once I reached the top, I realized the dumb mistake I had made. The helicopter was gone from the helipad and there was nowhere to hide. I looked over the edge and there was a ledge I could easily get to. I need to get far away from here, and this was my best bet.

Putting my heels back on, I sat down on the cool cement. I turned and began to lower myself down; my feet dangled trying to find where the ledge was. Before I could touch the ground, a hand grabbed me, and I was met by an ugly masked creature. “Hello, Y/N.” His distorted voice said, and I let out a scream. His hand slipped off of mine and the next thing I know, I was falling. All I could hear was a loud, swooshing sound.  Was this how I was going to die?

I mentally prepared myself to hit the ground, but a pair of arms gripped around me. Opening my eyes, I saw Bruce’s blue eyes; he had a lot of panic in his eyes. We didn’t hit the ground, but instead we went through a glass window across the street. Shards of glass flew everywhere, and when we hit the cool tile of wherever we were, glass surrounded our bodies. Glass skidded across the floor with us, but his grip never loosened.

We both were breathing heavily; I looked over at Bruce and he closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. My back stung from the glass slicing through my shirt, and I slowly sat up. Glass fell from my hair and Bruce sat up, “Are you alright?” He asked in his Batman voice. I stood up and I could feel blood running down my arm towards my hand. “You... I haven’t heard from you in almost a week!” I seethed as he stood up from the pile of shattered glass. “Why did you even bother saving me?” I questioned and his eyes went to the floor.

“Y/N, I care about you. I love you. But have you not learned anything? Do you not see how dangerous this life is?” He asked as he circled around me. “If you haven’t noticed, him being here has absolutely nothing to do with you!” I shout and I walked towards the door. “Now let’s go before he figures out where we fell to.” I say and Bruce turned me to face him. 

His usually bright blue eyes, were now dark. “Listen to me, it won’t take him long to connect the dots. When I was in his lair, I found pictures of you and I together. No where is safe for you.” Bruce said with his hands on my shoulders. “You’re not even safe with me, as my true self.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N! I’m taking you with me and you have to get out of Gotham. Until I figure out what he wants with you and is put away at Arkham.” He said and I didn’t argue with him. I followed him in silence.

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Sorry if this was short or rushed! I hope you guys enjoyed, also comment if you want to be apart of the Taglist!

TAGLIST: @leastlikelytoachieve

#batman x reader #batmoblie #ben affleck #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #christian bale #dc comics #robert pattinson #battinson #the batman 2022 #the batman x reader #dc heroes #batman #the batman #jonathan crane

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

hey luv, can i request some simple, domestic fluff with jonathan crane? like maybe jon having a casual heart attack from seeing reader in one of his shirts, trying their best to cook them both breakfast or feeding his crows, doesn't matter. i'm just in need of pure fluff with this rowdy stinkman garbage boy

Oh pure fluff, that's what I need now and seeing this request of our favorite but oh so terrible "God of Fear" made me determined to write it!!

Thank you for the request and I am sorry for taking so long to do it!

Being one of the most known and wanted Villains of Gotham can be stressful for to only Jonathan but to his beloved as well since the batman knows of his relationship with (Y/n). Whenever he escapes arkham the first person the Batman would interrogate was her, thinking that the scarecrow would go to her first, or that she might know of his hideout, which she doesn't since he never took her there to begin with, and because he is a "hero" he never took her into custody sense she never really participated in any of his schemes or his escapes. Of course, he could have taken her for not reporting him whenever he was in her home, or going out on dates, but again he was a "Hero" who never harm civilians.

That was the only thing he was grateful to the batman for.

And despite his commitment to his life as the infamous Scarecrow, he had his other commitment to (Y/n) as Jonathan. It was difficult trying to balance between gasing the city and planning a romantic night for his hardworking Darling. So after escaping Arkham again and laying low for a few months until the batman was distracted with Joker again, to inform his henchman that he will take a couple of weeks off and they should do the same, with every few days one making sure that his lab wasn't burning.

He surprised (Y/n) with a getaway to out of Gotham to a Rural area, his childhood home to be exact. Despite is being a great mansion that has been past to generations Jonathan loathed the place but seeing how it has a lot of space and no-one dares to come near it of fear it being hunted, he renewed the home from the inside so he can use as a second area to escape to, in case Gotham no longer was safe for him, but now with his Darling that place became their home. So after making some adjustments he brought his (Y/n) to their now second home.

It was heaven for him, waking up and sleeping together, being in the same table in all three meals, and engaging into cute couple activities that he only saw on TV or read in books. It was really tempting to just forget his career in gothem and start a new just for the sake of experiencing this bless everyday for the rest pf his life.. But he knew it was impossible, so he wanted to enjoy these few days as long as possible.

Jonathan was forced awake when the sun light that seeped from between the heavy curtains assaulted his eyes. He groaned and turned around stretching his arm to your side in order to cuddle you until noon, but his brows furrowed when he was met with an empty cold space. He forced one of his eyes open and saw that you were no where to be seen. He knew that there was no reason to stay in bed if you weren't there with him, and so he stretched his limps before standing up and picking up his clothes that was discarded on the ground from your... Previous night "intimate activities", just the thought of it made grin like an idiot. He paused when realizing that his white dress shirt or missing, maybe it was somewhere in the halls, lost in your moment of passion no doubt so he shrugged it off believing that you wouldn't mind him walking around with only his pants.

"Now, where could you be?" He asked himself as he looked at your empty side. He didn't need to think more for his answer came in the form of wood cracking lightly from above him. "There you are."

He walked out of the room and made his way through the halls to the stairs that lead to the attic, which was quite spacious so he made it into a special room for his pet crows. He remembers the time he introduced (Y/n) to them, she was quite scared at first, which was very adorable to him, but with time the fear turned to simple nervousness and from that to adoration, which was some time troublesome because he doesn't seem to be able to keep her away from there, always wanting to feed and pet those dark creatures. Finally reaching the attic's door Jonathan had this mischievous thought of scaring you, the attic was mostly dark having only one big window that allows that sun light, many pillars he could hide behind without you directing him, I mean he did that many times with the batman and he was only able to catch glimpse of him, so he doubted that you would be able to even know he was around, confident with his plan he opened the door slowly and carefully to it won't make as much as a creak as he sneaked in. However, the entire plan was thrown at the window when he finally saw.

You stood there legs and feet bare, your hair a mess not brushing it after waking up probably, the only item covering you was his missing white dress shirt which was too big on you. Jonathan's eyes where wide in both shock and fascination, he could feel his heart hammer against his rib cage as you giggled from of of the crows feathers tickling you cheek. He must have made a sound some how for you turned around to look directly at him, and caused his heart ache to rise, for the top buttons were undone which showed a generous amount of you cleavage, and with the sun light bathing you, you literally shined in his. Poor Jonathan wanted nothing more than to fall on his knees for you.

"Jonathan." You called breaking him out of his train of thoughts.

You came towards him causing the crows around you to fly away to their nests. You had such a look of concern as you came closer.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked as you titled your head to the side.

No able to hold it back anymore, Jonathan wrapped his arms around you bringing you closer to him, his nose buried further in the crook of your neck and his hummed in content when he felt your own arma wrap around him as you pressed yourself further against his body. You stood like that for what felt like hours, before you had to pry yourself away from him enough to look to his face.

"Someone woke up in a good mood." You stated with a smile that he returned.

"I did." He replied not letting you go, no that you tried anyway.

"And may I ask what is the reason professor?" You asked sounding intrigued.

The two of you started swaying with each other, until it looked like you were slow dancing to no music.

"Oh my dear it is a simple reason really." He said with a spin and he took you hand into his, his other hand resting on your waist while your own was on his bare shoulder.

"Is it now?" You continued to ask earning a him of approval from him.

He slowly stopped your small dance before taking your hand and kissed it tenderly but didn't pull it away from his lips enjoying the feeling of your skin.

"The reason my dear... Is because I seem to find myself smitten by you all over again." He confessed.

He could see a soft blush starting to show on your cheeks, embarrassed by his words, but you didn't allow it to show.

"Are you know?"

"Oh yes." He quickly said. "You fill my every thought even more than before, every minute I spend away from you feels like hours and the hours like days and the days to weeks and so on so forth."

"Then I guess nights spend scheming were terrible for you?" You asked enjoying his words and craving for more.

"Tormenting!" He almost exclaimed as the hand around your waist brought you close again." And the nights locked up at Arkham were agonizing."

"I did offer to visit you." You reminded.

"And risk the batman lurking over you even more or the cops sniffing after you?.. Never! I'd rather spent a thousand night and a day alone with the blissful thought that you were safe rather than drage you down with me."

He declared and you knew he was sincere. You pulled your hand away from his body only to bring them again to cups his face.

"Then what about me?" You asked with a pout. "I can't stand living those thousand night and a day knowing where you are but can't reach you. I'd probably go mad!"

You said as you dropped backwards dramatically but he caught you with a chuckle bringing up again to meet his blue eyes.

"You would go mad without me?" He asked with a grin.

"Of course." You answered with mot hesitation. "You aren't the only one smitten badly here, how do you think I felt when you same here all shirtless and messy?"

He raised a brow at your words the grin never leaving.

"You like that I look like a mess now?" He asked in a fake bewilderment.

"Well, yes, after all, everyone knows the uptight, serious and organized professor crame, but only I get to see the hot mess of a man Jonathan Crane." You said with a giggle.

Not able to resist anymore, with his arms still locked around you, Jonathan pulled you close to him as he leaned down to press his lips against your own and you kissed him back. The rest of your world was lost against his lips. The kiss was gentle and careful but it wasn't enough, greedy for more you sneaked your arms around his neck before running your fingers through his hair and gently clenching it as you pulled him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms circled under you back gathering you against him and from the ground, causing you to let out a surprised yelp, breaking the kiss. You'd always be surprised at how truely strong Jonathan can be. You looked back to him, your eyes lost into his blue ones, you were about to lean down to continue the kiss but the moment was interrupted by your stomach growls.

You were suprised by the loud sound and because your eyes were locked on Crane's, you saw the exact moment his eyes slightly widened at the sound as well. Embarrassed and having no where to hide you buried your face against the crook of his neck. Your lover just laughed as he rubbed your back in comfort, finding the situation funny, his laughter eventually died down, but the grin was still there.

"How about we go to the kitchen for breakfast, and then... " he pressed his lips against your ears. "We can continue this after."

Lifting your head slowly to meet his eyes, you saw that the lust was still there and he could have just ignored your what he heard and continued to slam you against one of the wooden pillars so your moment of passion was not gone, but to him your needs are a priority... including food. So he slowly put you back down and with your arms locked together you made your way to the kitchen.

Yes, jonathan had some awful memories in this house, but with his darling new memories were made as the old once are being forgotten.

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I hope you enjoyed this fic and that you don't mind the bit of spice in the end.

#jonathan crane x reader #Scarecrow x Reader #jonathan crane imagine

[ragingbookdragon]

Bring On The Wonder, We Got It All Wrong, We Pushed Us Down Deep In Our Souls, So Hang On

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this piece right here that everyone got mad at me for because I made it angsty :) Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Will you slow down?” Bruce complained, reaching her in a few steps. “Your ankle is sprained and you’re going to—”

She turned on him, slapping his hand away from where it was reaching for her. “I don’t wanna look or talk to you or anybody else right now.” She spat. “Take the hostages to GCPD and leave me the fuck alone.”

“He wasn’t going to kill you.” Bruce said and she scowled.

“It doesn’t matter what he was or wasn’t going to do.” She pointed to herself. “I thought he was going to. That’s what matters to me.” She turned and took a step, though her leg faltered, and she went to her knees, reaching to hold her ankle. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“(Y/N),” he murmured, bending down beside her and she reached up, yanking the cowl off.

“Everything hurts,” she cried, anger and pain lacing her voice. “My back hurts. My chest hurts. Everything fucking hurts.” She reached up to wipe the blood still leaking from her busted nose and split eyebrow. “And I’m bleeding.” (Y/N) licked her lips, feeling the sting from the broken skin of her bottom one.

Bruce’s hand went to his utility belt, unclipping one of the pockets, and he pulled out a rag; he gently raised it to her eyebrow, dabbing at the blood as he quietly stated, “Your eyebrow’s already in hemostasis. Though it’s going to need stitches.” His hand briefly stilled near her swollen eye, then he continued to her nose where he gently held it.

She whimpered, trying to recoil but he held on. “That hurts.”

“You need to stop the bleeding,” he advised, then grabbed her hand and placed it over his, forcing her to take it.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce didn’t answer her, one arm curling under her knees, the other her back and he hefted her up into his arms. “I’ll take you back to your penthouse.”

(Y/N) wanted to cry, and she was helpless to stop the tears that gathered in her eyes; she turned, burying her face in the plate of her brother’s shoulder pad, breathing deeply to keep her sobs at bay.

“I don’t know what’s going to come after this,” he explained softly, careful to take even steps to avoid jostling her. “But I know that you’re the only one who gets to choose what happens between you and him.” He rested his chin on her head. “And if you choose to take a leave for a while, then I’ll support that.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want to crawl in a hole.”

“Want me to get my shovel and dig you one?”

A watery laugh passed her lips, though it dissolved into a sob and with her free hand, she reached over and grabbed Bruce’s opposite shoulder, squeezing tightly as she shook against him.

He inhaled deeply, catching Ghost-Maker from the corner of his eye leading the hostages out. “We’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

***

Turns out that the leave of absence seemed like the best choice for her, and she’d hunkered down in a safe-house about three hundred miles outside of the state on the edges of the McIntyre Wild Area in Pennsylvania. Bruce and she had bought it years ago as a last-ditch effort if they needed to get out of Gotham and it’d taken the two of them, plus Clark to clear it out and build. Half of the time was having Clark laugh at the two siblings and call them “city-slickers trying to be country folk” as he watched them struggle to tame the land.

But in the end, it had been effective, and they’d built a rather cozy safe-house that looked inconspicuously like Ma and Pa Kent’s home in Smallville. It was stocked with everything they needed, a built-in basement for safe measures. She was alone and secure in the small cabin and that’s how she wanted to be. Since leaving some few days ago, she’d messaged each nephew and niece telling them that while she loved them dearly, she needed to be alone for some time and that she’d be back as soon as she could be.

They’d flooded her phone with messages and concerns, but she’d left the device in her penthouse before leaving, resting assured that Bruce would explain in her absence. She felt like a failure and more so, weak for leaving her brother with the job of explaining, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain the situation herself.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, gazing absentmindedly as the flames cast light that flickered around the darkened room. The entire room was open, living room and fireplace in the center, bedroom in one corner, kitchen in the other, a closed bathroom in another. It all smelled like pine. Fresh air and the ingraining scent of pine. But it’s what she needed. Gotham City overwhelmed the olfactory senses with blood and smog and on especially bad days, the rotting scent of fish and death. Everyone needed a break from it at some point in their life; to remember how to breathe in air that wasn’t contaminated.

The only thing she didn’t like was how quiet it was. (Y/N) was used to the distant sounds of traffic, gunshots, and sirens. Here it was the sound of her breathing and the wind whistling through the trees, wildlife scratching and hunting away in the underbrush. She swore she could hear her blood flowing through her brain. If there was any consolation, it did help to hone the senses on what she wanted to hear. And what she didn’t want to hear was knocking at the front door.

Quietly she rose from the couch and walked to the side of her bed, grabbing the loaded twelve gauge; she cocked it and stepped up to the door, warning, “If you’re not park rangers, I suggest you leave now. I’m armed and I will shoot you.”

A muffled chuckle sounded from the other side. “Well, that’s not the way I figured you’d greet me.”

“Oh, so you were expecting the shotgun blast then?” she answered aiming at the door and she pulled the trigger, blasting a large hole in the center of the wooden door. (Y/N) waited until the smoke cleared before she walked up and bent down, peeking through to see him flat on the ground, unharmed, reflexive as ever.

“Damn,” she griped. “I really thought I was going to beat you that time, K.”

Ghost-Maker cocked his head up and she was sure he was glaring at her from beneath the mask. “You crazy—”

“Bitch?” (Y/N) finished. “Tell me about it.” She set the gun next to the door and stood up, flipping the lock before pulling it open. “What do you want.”

“Well, I was coming to see you,” he said, picking himself off the ground; dusting himself off, he added, “You wouldn’t answer me.”

“Huh, I wonder why?” (Y/N) questioned, pressing her finger to her chin in mock thought, then her face lit up and she exclaimed, “Maybe it was because you tried to kill me a week ago!”

“I wasn’t going to kill you.” He griped. “You know I wasn’t going to.”

“Noted. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you and if you’re smart, you’ll leave before I decide to reload the gun.”

Ghost-Maker sighed, gazing at her. “I was using Kyusho Jitsu to slow you down until Bruce arrived.”

(Y/N) wanted to scream, but she kept her voice level. “And that somehow justifies splitting both lips, one eyebrow, busting my nose, and throwing me into an electric fence?”

“…No,” he murmured. “No, it doesn’t.” He looked at her. “But I was concerned that if I didn’t make it look like we were really trying to kill one another, Riddler was going to kill the hostages.”

She merely stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I used to think I knew when you were telling the truth, but now that I really think about it, I don’t know when you’re lying to me either.”

He stood to his full height, jaw tightening as he said, “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, (Y/N). And I’d never lie to you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she shot back, face pinching as she finished with, “And you can sleep outside.”

She shut the door and turned around, walking to the bed in the corner and he looked through the hole in the middle. “You know I can just come inside if I want?”

(Y/N) laughed, stripping the shorts and long shirt she had on before climbing into the bed. “You take one step in here and I’ll cut your penis off and nail it to your forehead.”

“Hmm…have it your way,” he decided, turning around and she had as she tried, she couldn’t block out the sound of him setting up his blanket and bedding on the porch.

Hopefully, he’d be gone in the morning.

***

A crack of thunder startled her awake and she sat up in the bed, looking out the window to see the rain beating down. Her eyes drifted to the hole in the door and for a moment, she wanted to get up and see if he was okay, but she felt a bolt of irritation flash through her and she huffed, flopping back down into the bed, yanking the covers over her head.

She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the thunder clap above her, the lightning illuminating the room ever other moment, then she groaned, cursing herself for being a good person deep, deep down. (Y/N) threw the covers off her and rolled out of the bed, hurrying to the door. Pulling it open, she couldn’t help but smile at the man curled up in his thoroughly soaked blanket.

“Come inside.” He said nothing in return, and she sighed, kicking him in the stomach. “I know you’re awake, K. Get in here.”

“I thought you didn’t want me inside,” he retorted, yet to pull the blanket off his head.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I’d be a terrible person if I let you get pneumonia.”

“You know you can’t catch that from rain, right? It’s caused by—”

“Fine. Stay out here for all I care,” she interrupted, starting to close the door and he sat up, scrambling for the inside.

“Wait!” She smirked and he craned his neck up at her to scowl. “You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) retorted, cracking the door open more so he could get inside. He sat against the door when she closed it and she leaned against the door frame, watching the water drip down his soaked body.

“Want a change of clothes?” she asked. “Bruce left some behind the last time he was here.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

She turned, seeing him yanking off his shirt and pants, then tossed the clothes to him. “Here.”

He caught them. “I’m not wearing his boxers.”

“They’re new, jack-ass.” (Y/N) snorted, looking away so he could dress himself, then she glanced back. “Feel better?”

“I feel less cold,” he retorted, walking around the fireplace to toss another couple logs inside. “You’re letting the fire die out.”

She rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen, returning with a clean rag. “You’d be less cold if you took the mask off and toweled your hair.”

He looked up at her, watching, waiting, and since he didn’t stop her from reaching behind him, she untied the knot at the base of his skull, pulling the damp fabric away.

(Y/N) wiped the water from his face, softly brushing over his cheeks, then to his eyebrows, and when she was satisfied, she placed the towel on his head, and gently massaged his scalp, letting the towel soak up all the rainwater.

When she was done, she tossed it aside and sank onto the brick wraparound with a heavy sigh, eyes drifting to the wall. Ghost-Maker collapsed against her legs, resting his head back on her thighs; unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, stroking the brown tresses.

After a few minutes, he murmured, “I apologize for not telling you the plan.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their ministrations. “I accept your apology.” She scratched his scalp. “Sorry for what I said.”

“It didn’t hurt my feelings,” he shrugged, and she tugged his hair.

“Yes, it did.” He tipped his head back, gazing at her. “Parade it around all you want but we both know you’re not immune to having your feelings hurt.”

Ghost-Maker searched her eyes. “You truly thought I was going to kill you?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered. “Everything was happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to think about what fighting style you were using on me. All I knew was that you weren’t pulling punches and it didn’t feel like a plan to me.”

She stared at him. “And I was scared of you.”

“Are you scared of me now?” he questioned, and she inhaled then exhaled.

“No.” He seemed relieved, but it was short lived as she added, “But I don’t trust you anymore. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I do again.”

He looked away. “I see.” Nothing was said for a moment, and he pulled from her, standing to his feet. “It’s late. We should rest.”

(Y/N) stood and started making her way to the bed when she realized he was going too. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Going to bed?” Ghost-Maker offered, and she cocked a brow.

“Try again, K.” She pointed to the couch. “Go.”

His face pinched and he turned, but she caught his hand and he stopped, glancing back at her. (Y/N), against the better judgement in her head and the obvious discomfort between the two of them, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest.

He seemed to freeze at the sudden action, even if it’d been one, they’d done many times, but he recovered, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around the back of her neck. His cheek brushed her temple and her grip shifted, hands coming up to press flat against his shoulders; with the warmth stinging the corners of her eyes, she dug her nails into his back as if it were the one thing keeping her from breaking down.

She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him how angry she was. How hurt. How much loathing was built up inside of her, but nothing would come out.

“I know,” Ghost-Maker murmured against her hair. “I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), and I know.” He pulled back, hand slipping from her neck to cup her cheek; he pressed his forehead to hers and assured quietly, “I know.”

(Y/N)’s eyes slipped shut and she let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He let her go and watched as she unsteadily headed for the bed, collapsing onto the mattress; she tugged the blankets over her head, and he frowned as he saw her frame start to shake beneath them. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he laid down and watched her for some time. Waiting until she stopped shaking and slipped off into sleep so he himself could sleep too.

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[danolover]

Confession - Edward Nygma x Bruce Wayne

Masterlist

Notes:

In which the Riddler is obsessed with Batman and decides to confess

NSFW 18+

Haven’t had a tumblr account since like 2018 and i kinda forget how this all works

First post on a new account!

Cross-posted on AO3 and Wattpad

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The interrogation room was dimly lit, with nothing but a buzzing table lamp on the desk flushing the area with a pale yellow light. That desk, covered in shallow scratches and dents where the chipped wood once was, was placed directly in front of a wall and rested right below a sheet of bullet proof glass. Beyond the glass, another desk sat below it with the same lamp placed upon it.

Sitting at this desk, Edward Nygma had his hands placed flat on the table with his head craned downward. He stared at the cracks in the wood, frantically bouncing his eyes back and forth trying to come up with a sensical pattern. He lifted his finger shakily and began tracing the divots, counting as he dragged his digit.

"One," his voice came out husky and damaged.

"Two, Thre-" The interruption came from the door in the room across from him swinging open abruptly. He lifted his finger and slammed his hands down on the brittle table in frustration.

Heavy footsteps caused him to freeze, the metal clanking all to familiar. He pushed his head up and peered through the curtain formed from his unkept hair. Ed let out a soft chuckle and relaxed in his seat, his leg bouncing up and down being the only movement he made.

"Bruceyyyy," he dragged, "you know I love it when you show up in that suit." He sighed softly and leaned forward, looking over Batman with a smirk.

"Shut up Nygma, we need to talk," Batman snapped gruffly as he sat down. He glared at Edward through his cowl, the cold and cruel look nearly piercing the glass in front of him.

"Oh! I know we do," Ed replied elatedly. "I've been trying to get your attention for far too long." He swung his head back and pushed backwards in his chair, balancing two legs on the floor. "And I've finally got it! I have you all to myself, can you believe that?" He swung his arms out. "All the letters and cards I've sent you..." He trailed off mumbling incoherently.

"Ed. If any of that stuff about Gotham comes out, there will be a war. The people will riot."

Edward giggled proudly. "Thats Gotham's problem not mine Batty. Gotham needs to be exposed." He stared up at the ceiling, continuing to balance on the chair.

Bruce slammed his hands on the table. "Do you know how many people want to kill you, Nygma? I might just have to do it myself!" He snapped, his low voice booming against the walls.

Ed cracked his chair legs back on the ground, facing Bruce with his arms laid on the table. "Your not going to kill me, you're obsessed with me. Lets not lie." He gave a soft smile.

"You think I wouldn't rather have you dead than in the hands of somebody else?" Batman returned, really in a far too protective tone. "Lets not lie."

"Oh Bruceee," Edward tilted his head on his arms. "I know you want me all to yourself. I made everything for you. I made myself for you. You need to see me Bruce." The Riddler leaned back in his seat, his legs slightly spread as he pulled his hands up to his face.

He pointed at his temples with urgency. "Everything up here, is you Brucey," his face contorted pathetically, "I need you to see. You want to see... I know how you think about me... It's..." By now his hands had trailed down his own shirt, pulling the fabric before letting it snap back into place. "...Mutual obsession."

Batman sat across from him, speechless. He hid a scowl underneath his cowl as he watched Edward lose himself over his own sick thoughts.

"I know you think about me the same way I do Batty. You obsess over the-" he took a deep breath and writhed under his own touch. "pitiful... situations I put myself in." Edward looked up at Bruce and his face twisted into a miserable frown as his hands moved lower down his body. His cheeks began to flush, slowly turning to a soft pink as his hands reached his belt.

"I've been wanting to show you how I feel... Have you watch me lose control at the deplorable thought of you, watch me confess." His breathing hitched between sentences, body  completely overwhelmed. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, his dick slowly growing in his pants.

Edward fiddled with his pant hem nervously, and frantically proceeded to free his cock. He closed his eyes and dragged his hands up his thighs, wishing it were Batman touching him in that moment. He let out a raspy breath, practically begging through his body movements and moved his hand closer to his groin.

Bruce looked away, scowling and shifting in his seat thinking of the pathetic boy.

"Look at me!" Edward managed to croak, forcing Bruce to focus back on his pitiful expression.

Once he was sure he had his full attention he began to move his hand up, fully surrounding him in a pool pleasure. Small noises escaped his lips, in sync with the repetitive movement of his chest. "Iv'e dreamt of you Batty.. W-wondering how your skin would feel against mine," He threw his head back with a groan as his hand pace went faster over his flushed cock. "I wondered if your skin would cut mine, if the fantasies you have include me." Sweat dripped from his forehead and onto the concrete floor. "Iiiii I can't let someone else have you, y-y-you have to be mine Bruce.."

His hips stuttered and his hand paused at the base of his cock. Cum fell across his stomach, falling down with the rising of his chest. He sat there with his eyes closed, his body seeming to go limp. A pathetically beautiful sight Bruce was looking at, his own cock had started to get hard in his tight black pants from looking at Edward.

Ed let out raspy sighs, eyes still shut, and reached out with his voice. "Batty?" He waited patiently for a response, his cum-soaked cock twitching against his thigh.

"You're fucking pitiful Eddy." Bruce replied before standing up stiffly. "It's cute."

The door slammed behind him, leaving Edward slumped in his chair, cum pooled in his lap, and a small smile forming on his face.

#bruce wayne #edward nygma #the riddler #batman #the batman #riddlebat #drabble #imagine #fanfiction