#sub!jonathan crane

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife.” — ‘South and West’, Joan Didion

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

summary. you and your dear friend, jonathan crane, have an odd relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. one day, you experiment your aphrodisiac on him.

warnings. swearing, use of aphrodisiac & fear toxin, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, mention of death, murder, drugs, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink, face fucking, dubcon(?) SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. the enemies to friends to fucking pipeline is sooo real and i love it. BTW! this is really self indulgent and again, i’m a beginner to writing smut so pls don’t judge😭 the beginning is also oddly plotty, so i apologize for that.

You and your colleague, Jonathan Crane, have a harmonious, albeit slightly sick and twisted, relationship. 

Your repertoires, opposite in every way, complete one another like you were made to match. You are messy, frenzied, intimate; he is neat, calculated, distant. He is impatient, histrionic, stubborn. You are tolerant, deadpan, submissive. 

This is an odd, good-cop bad-cop dynamic you’ve built, but it works. Your traits uphold the order you’ve built around yourselves; you allow each other to function. 

Who ever said something so codependent, so parasitic, would fall apart? That it was dangerous, destructive? Everyone, but in your case, it has been anything but. 

These are the simple rules of your relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. This partnership came to bloom when, after years of competing to be the “better” psychology professor at Gotham University, he sent you a gift that sprayed with you with fear toxin, and you baked him a cake that knocked him out for 24 hours following, heart rate so low he could’ve been mistaken as dead. 

“Fucking - hell,” You murmured under your breath, stumbling halfway across Gotham City to locate Crane’s absurdly lavish condo in the Diamond District, barely able to keep yourself upright. 

You were being visually assaulted by dozens of images, all your phobias no matter big or small, dancing across your senses. Spiders crawled all over your body, you saw yourself about to step off a steep, snowy cliff, you felt yourself suffocate as you were buried to death in a casket. It was utter torture, and you would have to endure it until you found Crane. 

You must’ve looked like one of those tweaking drug addicts from down in the Narrows, shivering, sweating, and rubbing all over your body to remove some of the “spiders” taking over your body. The terror was settling into you, into your spine like a terribly malignant disease. 

At last, you found the apartment building, blearily snuck in behind a drunk couple, and scanned the mail boxes until you found J. CRANE: 525. 

You headed up the elevator, grasping at the walls for dear life, feeling that growing, unmistakable sense of dread start to take over your mind. You felt like you were going mad, now, not just afflicted with something that made you look like it. 

When you finally got to his door, it was left open a crack, and you welcomed the small mercy of Crane’s overarching narcissism: he didn’t lock his door, often, because most days he felt more invincible than fucking god. 

“Crane!” You shouted, clutching at your head and staggering into his large apartment. “Crane!” you repeated, this time more desperate, more fearful than anything. 

However, your deepest fear, at the moment, had come true. You stepped into his kitchen, and found the man laying on the floor unresponsive. 

“Fuck me,” you cursed. You’d sent the man home with the cake twelve hours ago, when he took the half-day off from GSU, and you came home from your after-class tutoring hours just moments ago. 

You’d opened the mystery package on your front porch promptly, and you found yourself having been gassed with a compound that made you see every little thing you were afraid of. Immediately, you’d known it was Crane; the man’s pet specialty was fear. 

As for you, you wanted your… gift, to serve a reminder to him that he should not overstep your boundaries, your territory, as the psychology professor who was there first. If knocking him out was a little bit mad, he was bordering insanity for the toxin he poisoned you with. 

Even so, your threat was an empty one. You weren’t counting on the man to even eat the cake - hell, you’d never seen the man consume anything but straight black coffee. 

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know now, and laid there on the couch of his apartment, waiting for the twelve hours to be over. Waiting for Crane, the fucking madman, to wake the hell up, blaming him for the predicament despite your very obvious involvement in it.

You breathed in and out, harried and rapid fire as you tried to focus, tried to block out the horrific things you were seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting. 

(Your eyes are swarmed, viscerally, by a grotesque hallucination of your family burning to death; you hear them cry out, voices interrupted when they’re fire gets to their lungs; you smell their death, the smell of flesh burning, how the smoke chokes you — you taste their blood on your tongue, how tender a raging fire makes charred flesh. 

Tender, you think on your choice of words again, and almost throw up.

What have you done, you think, and what is going through that fucked up head of yours, Crane?)

You tried to ground yourself, tether your lost mind back to Earth. You’re sitting in a field in Northwestern Ireland, you said to yourself, inhaling. Up ahead is the beach; water is crashing on the rocks. You exhaled, the wind tastes like salt, and it is just you and I, here together. It is only I and you, here, together. 

Like so, 12 hours passed. Not so much passed — that word gave the connotation the hours slipped past you, the way a peaceful stream of water does; no, more accurately, it dragged by, like when an arm slips out of the ambulance cot on its way to the emergency vehicle, and drags on the concrete. The EMT’s don’t notice what’s making their trip so hard, so slow, until the hand is rubbed raw and bloody. 

You repeated that mantra so many times you were starting to get queasy when you thought the words “you’re sitting in a field..” but nonetheless, the string of words kept you sane. 

Sane enough, at least - you weren’t sure you’d be the same blissful person you were yesterday. Sure, you were always a little bit… unorthodox? Petty? Competitive enough to bake so many drugs into a cake your opposing professor knocks out? 

But, with this — this being drugged by Crane — made you feel a piece of yourself break away. There would be no more of your life lived without knowing how fearful, well, fear, is. It's like discovering the Boogeyman and never being able to stop checking under your bed; the paranoia moves into your head and never leaves. 

Crane began stirring, and your eyes opened as soon as you heard the noise. Surprisingly enough, however, you were no longer being hammered with the hallucinations that had been distressing you just half a day ago. 

Had it been the mantra? The near-prayer you now swore was etched on your heart? 

“Fucking…” Crane said, getting up off the floor. He was clutching his head, eyes squinted, body hunched and tense. Looks like spending half a day on the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but you didn’t give a fuck — atleast he was sleeping. If you had to be mentally destroyed by his toxin, you’d best believe you were taking the couch. 

“Why - why are you here? What the hell did you do to me?” He said after noticing you, voice raspy. He hadn’t had anything to drink or eat in a while, after all. 

“I could say the fucking same for you,” You muttered, giving him a pointed look. “You - what the fuck did you spray me with?”

Immediately, a twisted grin was bared on Crane’s lips, despite his fatigued demeanor. “Did you like it? My fear-toxin,” he preened, like the winning kid at a school science fair.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could control your tendencies, you’d swung back and then socked him straight in the face. 

Crane double-backed, looking terribly affronted, as if he hadn’t sent you the gas knowing how it would affect you. “Ow,” is all he said, face contorting oddly around the pain. 

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

Crane raised a brow. “You’re acting like you didn’t feed me a poisoned cake!” He said incredulously.

“It wasn’t that poisoned,” you bit out, teeth gritted. “Not so poisoned I was hallucinating my family dying for twelve hours straight.”

“Ah, thanatophobia, not really one of my favourites—“ Crane started, like he was losing himself in a romantic daydream, before snapping back to reality. “Did you just say twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours for me. Twenty-four for you.” You said, reveling in how panicked he looked. 

“I — that’s long enough for me to be killed a hundred times over,” he mumbled under his breath. “What the fuck did you put in that cake?”

“I never expected you to eat it, Crane. You’re fucking skin and bones, I thought you’d just throw it out.”

“What did you put in the cake?” he repeated. 

“Ugh,” you sunk into the couch, “some amytal, zolpidem. Some melatonin. I didn’t measure, okay, and again, I wasn’t counting on you eating it.” You didn’t know why you had this urging feeling to respond to him, to humor his jabs, his dumb fucking theatrics, but you did anyway. 

“Some amytal? Some zolpidem? Some melatonin? Jesus fucking christ - is that what you wanted? To kill me?” He was leaning down, face inches away from yours now. 

You pushed him away, disgust on your features clear as day. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not some sociopathic fear-freak like you, Crane. I don’t mix compounds in my creepy little office with the thought of drugging out my fellow professor in mind. It was just an empty threat.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “Mixing barbiturates and medications into a cake sounds like an empty threat to you?”

“You know what?” You said brightly, getting up off the couch, “I don’t have to argue with you. I came to get my cure, woke up having cured myself.” Then, you burst out the door, fury rolling off you in waves, and you left.

There was something about the incident, however, that seemed to intrigue Crane to no end. Soon enough, he began entering your office during your breaks, asking to have a chat. Or, he’d walk in during your lessons, forcing you two in the hall alone. Sometimes, he’d even wait for you after school, dozing off in front of your classroom and waiting for you to exit your office. 

You couldn’t tell what was making Crane so interested, but he was hanging off you and your every word like some lovesick puppy.

You, on the other hand, also couldn’t get Crane out of your head. Certainly not for some weird, fucked up reason like his, but because of what he had created. A lot of people doubted his intelligence, mostly because of his obsession on things nobody really cared about, but that obsession made way to the destructive fear-toxin you’d inhaled, and it was seriously unlike anything you’d ever experienced, hell, even read about. It was a brand new creation, and downright deadly. 

Your interest in the man was more so on… keeping him in check. As rivals did. But his was on how you’d breezed past the effects of his toxin in just twelve hours. He’s expected you to go half mad, honestly. Your threat was empty… his was, decidedly, not. 

By the end of the next week following the incident, you two began eating lunch together, asking for joint classes, and spending nights over at each other's places. Not in that way, of course — your way was like a group of scientists having a forever eureka, because your minds fit like perfect puzzle pieces. 

Your intrigue had met his intrigue, and it felt natural, coming to a united front like that. You found you had more in common than you thought, something you should’ve found out about a long time ago, 3 ½ years kind of long time ago. Apart, you two were volatile; angry, spewing threats, attempting murder on the other. Together, however, you were absolute perfection: productive, well-mannered, motivated. 

Now, fast-forward coming on two years since the incident. You and Crane - now, Jonathan, have been inseparable since that time. You two were close, closer than siblings or children and parents or couples; you felt like the same person that had been split into two. Being together was the only thing that felt right, being back at the origin, like being at home. 

Fuck’s sakes, you did have the same home — you’d moved in together. Not to his, nor yours, but to a big house you bought on the outskirts of Gotham, with a big yard and an even bigger lab in the basement. It was like a scientist's amusement park. 

Maybe it - this relationship of yours - was codependency. But maybe it was utter genius: your careers had both never seen so many accomplishments until you and Jonathan came together. Partly because you had a greater inspiration when coupled with the other, but, mostly because you had a body to test on during preliminary trials. 

Creating things, like the fear-toxin, required human testing, and finding a way to get that done always slowed Jonathan down. Since finding you, however, it’d been a breeze. 

You offered yourself up readily, given Jonathan would do the same. And, besides, Jonathan had never been worried about you and his toxin very much — after that first time you took the toxin, you could easily find yourself out of its effects. You were the only person he’d ever encountered who could do this, and it was downright fascinating. He wanted to keep you, see how that strong little mind of yours worked overtime to fight his toxin off. 

You, on the other hand, rarely tested anything like that on Jonathan. Your interests lied elsewhere: what smells activate the human mind to recall memories, what are ways to accurately fight off drugs like GHB — all mental stimulation. 

That, however, changed one evening, when you had been brewing up a serum for the past few weeks. You’d gotten to the point in creation where you needed to test on someone, and observe the effects. 

“Jonathan,” you called out, looking down at your notes. The man in question was grading assignments for the psychology class you taught — now, in joint lessons more often than not — sitting at a desk a few metres away from you in the lab. 

“Jonathan!” you repeated louder this time, looking up from your notes. 

“What?” He shouted back, still hunched over on the ungodly amount of assignments he needed to mark. 

“Come here. I need to test something on you.” You said, nonchalant. 

That, however, piqued Jonathan’s interest to no end: you hadn’t tested anything on him in nearly a year. It hurt, a little, to test you endlessly and have nothing to give in return - so this, no matter what it was, Jonathan would take in stride.

Jonathan nodded vehemently, “Okay.” He then dropped all he’d been doing on the desk and made his way over, before sitting in the chair next to you. You made quick work, tying his arms and legs to the chair like he’d done to you so many times before. He watched you work, completely enraptured in how you looked while experimenting. 

“So,” He said, tearing his sticky gaze off of you, “what’re you pumping me full of?”

You sat back in your desk chair and scratched your cheek, a little unsure how to say this. “Well, I created a serum that, once injected, would lower or lose all inhibitions of the victim. They’d be completely malleable, agreeable, if you just, um,” you fanned yourself, feeling a little too close to the man in front of you, room feeling incredibly warm.

“Just what?” He pried, leaning back in his chair. 

You exhaled shakily, “if you just promise to - to provide relief to them. Sexual - relief.”

Jonathan let out an incredulous laugh. “You made a working aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly — I don’t even know if it works, for sure. If you don’t want to- take it, then you don’t have to.” You offered up weakly. 

“How d’you get it out of the system?” He said instead, ignoring your words and picking up the needle you had ready for him on your worktable, which was filled with a thick, pink liquid. 

You flushed. “You, um, help the victim relieve themselves, until the feeling is gone.” 

Jonathan looked up at you, a sly smirk on his lips. “And you were going to give this to me?” 

You turned away, face red, exasperated. “I told you, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

“And let you pleasure some random guy you snatched off the street? No way,” he said, before you heard a familiar prick, small whine leaving Jonathan’s mouth.

You spun back around so fast you thought you got whiplash. “Jonathan, wait—“ you said, alarmed. You were really, seriously, considering not giving the aphrodisiac to him — it would disrupt the careful balance you and he had built over the past years. 

You were afraid that if he took the serum, and let you, for lack of a better word, get him off, you wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering him needy, hot and bothered, calling your name out like it was the only word he knew. 

He’d done it anyway, though. And now, you both just had to get through this… experiment. 

Quickly, you grabbed your pen and notebook, ready to approach this scenario as detached and clinically as possible, ignoring the pulsing need in your insides as you saw Jonathan’s face slowly contort into a warm, heavy-lidded lustful one. 

“How do you feel, Jonathan?” You said, standing further away from him so he couldn’t so much as feel your body heat on him. 

“I…” Jonathan blinked rapidly, licking his lips, looking you up and down. “Warm. I just feel… warm.” He readjusted in the seat, unable to sit still. “And - kind of, tingly? Like I - well, I don’t know…”

You noted his words, as well as some of your own observations: his pupils were dilated, so much so the crystalline blue of his eyes were merely slivers, his lips were pursed, plump, and he was pink all over; pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. He was talkative, loose-lipped and a little out of it.

You inhaled, then exhaled, before starting the next phase of the experiment. “Jonathan, how do you feel when I touch you here?” You said, raising the back of your hand to caress his cheek. 

Jonathan was affected almost immediately, eyes shutting tight. “It feels,” he said breathily, leaning into your touch, “ah… nice. Good.”

You nodded, promptly pulling away as soon as he’d finished his sentence. Subject enjoys physical touch. Jonathan then peered up at you, looking slightly… disappointed? 

You shook yourself, getting back on task. “How do you feel now?” You pried, noticing he looked far more affected than before. 

Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead, making his wavy brown hair stick to his skin. He was breathing heavily, and, when you had touched him, he was extremely warm, like he had a fever. 

“I’m, I…” Jonathan trailed off, eyes shutting, shaking his head. “Mmm… my head feels — fuzzy,” he bit out raspily. 

“Okay. Good. It's exactly as I thought,” you murmured, continuing to scratch down notes. 

You ignored him for a few minutes, writing up a list of side effects and observed results of the aphrodisiac. Then, your gaze drew back to him, who had been focussing intently on you the whole time. 

“Jonathan?” you called out quietly, seeing his dazed expression. “Talk to me.”

Jonathan shuddered, leaning forward in the chair, head hanging low, “My - my body’s, hnngh… it feels— feels weird.” He bit his lip, face screwed up and tense. “I’m warm all over…”

His shoulders were hunched in, and he was trembling. You lifted a hand up to his head, petting him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“Ah…” Jonathan squeaked out at your touch, face going slack, “I feel like I need you to - to…” he sighed exasperatedly, “I need you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek conflictedly. On one hand, you needed to finish up a few more tests, meaning Jonathan would be teased - or tortured, depending on how fast the aphrodisiac was affecting him - a little longer. On the other hand, he was already a breathy mess, begging for your touch. For you. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, turning away from the man who’s eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head at the way you tugged at his locks. “No, no,” you fought your internal struggle. You would not give in to his pleas - you would finish this experiment. 

“Okay. Okay.” you said to no-one but yourself, extracting your hand from his velvet soft hair. “Let’s be professional about this. Jonathan, I’m going to take your clothes off, but you can’t move, and you can’t touch me, okay?”

Jonathan’s breathing became more labored as you spoke, and you swore you could see desperate tears filling his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t touch you? But… but why not?” He was practically whining for you.

“Because, Jonathan, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the experiment.” You didn’t look your partner in the eye, because his complete and total change in behavior had you feeling, quite frankly, as warm as him. 

You continued by undoing the restraints on his arms and legs, and his sharp intakes of breath as your fingers brushed past his skin didn’t slip past you. Not at all. 

Firstly, you undid the man’s white button-up shirt slipping it past his flushed torso. Jonathan’s skin was actually pink and warm all over, and he was breathing heavily now, gripping the chair so tight his knuckles were white. 

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” you asked absently, as you began unbuckling his belt and slipping down his fly. 

Jonathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and he didn’t answer you, biting down on his lower lip to stop any desperate moans from escaping him. 

You finally finished undressing your partner, then redid his restraints, before you stepped back to see him fully. Jonathan was shivering, faint tear tracks on his pink cheeks, head cocked back. 

“It’s just - one, or two more tests, Jonathan.” You murmured quietly, kneeling down in front of him. 

Your hands pressed flat on his thighs, rubbing him up and down, grazing your fingers lightly on his feverish skin. You had to regularly ground yourself, stop yourself from inching up to the poor, untouched tent in his boxer shorts. 

Above you, you could hear Jonathan let out a low groan, “Ah, hnng— please,” he called out to no-one in particular.

“Does that - feel good, Jonathan?” You ask, getting back up on your feet. His desperate groans were getting to you now, how needy his little keens were. 

“So - good,” he panted. “Your— you, I want— need, I need…” he trailed off, babbling, lost to the pleasure of your touch. 

“Jonathan, if I… touched you more, would you do anything for me?” You said finally. The invention of the aphrodisiac was intended to sway someone's motivations, make them bend to your will. Sure, there was that added sexual aspect, but it was created with less… pleasurable intentions. 

“Anything, anything at all,” he said deliriously, rolling his head around. “Jus’… just need you to- touch me.”

“Would you give yourself fear-toxin, Jonathan?”

“Yes! Yes, just — please… please! Stop asking me— questions… I need you so fucking bad, ah…”

“Jesus,” you said. Your aphrodisiac was stronger than you thought. You were satisfied, however, with the results of it. The first trial was a success, and you saw how you could use this on anyone - even people in particular positions of power, and get them to do your bidding. Quite helpful, indeed. 

Now, you needed to… get Jonathan out of this state. By, ah, relieving him.

You had decided to do this, to test him, so you had to be responsible and help ease him out of this experiment. Quickly, you stripped your own clothing, even your underwear, before undoing the restraints on his arms and legs. 

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched you undress. “Are you - are you… gonna t—touch me? Now? Please?” He practically begged, almost drooling at the sight of your naked body. 

“Mhm,” you said, a tremble in your voice. “Gon’ help you get out of this.”

Then, you climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, shutting your eyes as you felt his hard cock within his boxer shorts slide between your legs deliciously. 

He let out a guttural groan as your weight pressed down on him, feeling your wetness soak his shorts. That measly piece of fabric was all that was keeping him from entering your plush, velvet folds, and he was going practically insane at the feeling. 

“M’god,” Jonathan whined out, leaning his sweaty head on your shoulder. “Y’feel so, a—ah, good…”

You couldn’t help the breezy laugh that made its way out of you. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Jonathan, and you’re already so worked up,” you whispered in his ear, hot breath fanning on his warm skin.

“P-pleeeease,” He begged, slowly grinding into you. Jonathan was barely coherent, mind just focussed on chasing the release he so desperately needed.

You raised a brow, but complied, slipping your warm hands down his boxer shorts and pulling his thick length out. You pumped him lazy, feeling how he writhed under you, tasteful whimpers slipping out of his mouth. 

After another second of you stroking him lightly, your thumb grazing past the tip and collected a decent amount of precum, he actually did come, wet hot load spurting upwards on his chest and your face. “Ah - hnngh, oh my — oh my god,” he drooled, jutting into your hand. 

It dripped down from your cheek onto your lips, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure. You swiped a handful of his cream off your face, before covering his still hard, curved cock with it. 

“You’re not done, aren’t you?” You said to him quietly, his hips stuttering as you artfully smeared his come on himself. Jonathan was arching into your touch, completely putty in your hands. 

“Nuh- no, m’still— still need you, need you so bad.” he whimpered shamefully, hands stuck to your waist.

“Look at you go,” you found yourself cooing, dragging a creamy hand down his equally as creamy chest, your fingernails grazing him. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, you lifted yourself up off his lap, and carefully situated your slit on the tip of his head. “Christ,” you called out as you slid down, “you’re fucking big,” 

Inch by inch, you took him, and Jonathan’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, a string of senseless groans and whines leaving his mouth. “Feels so warm, so so warm,” he choked out at last, looking at you adoringly. 

You started to lift out of him, your cunt stinging slightly at the sheer size of his cock, when you felt a heated liquid shoot through you, Jonathan’s knees buckling under your ass. 

He’d come, again, even before you could get started. You shook your head incredulously at the terribly horny man beneath you, eyes glazed over in the pure ecstasy he was feeling. 

“Stop, fucking — coming,” you scolded, bottoming his cock into you once more, “you’re gonna get me so — ah— fucking - pregnant if you keep coming.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan said sheepishly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Can’t help it— you feel so — hnngh — feel so good.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, then focussed on getting a good pace of sliding in and out, your hips rolling deeper and deeper into his own. You were bouncing quickly on his cock, dick-riding him like you’d never done before. 

With all other sexual partners you had, they wanted to be all vanilla, always just missionary, going slow until they were close, no sense of creativity or any other wishes that just feeling you. With Jonathan - especially in the state he was in now - you could do whatever you wanted, as long as his cock was in your cunt. 

“Good — god,” you screamed out, when Jonathan suddenly gained control over himself and snapped into you, rough hands pinching the flesh of your hips. He rutted into you, hard and fast, for a moment like that continually, before his control melted once more into nothingness, and all he could do was let you take the reins. 

“Please— how’re you so — ah, how does your pussy feel so good…” he murmured, trailing off into a high-pitched moan when you pulled out, then just as fast sunk down on him. 

Jonathan’s fingers trailed up your body, rubbing at your soft flesh, before they found your breasts, kneading you tenderly. He chanced several licks on both your erect nipples, and you shuddered, tightening around him. Your cunt was sucking him in, devouring his length no matter how big he was, and he could feel how his length was stretching your walls wide open. 

“So fucking big.” You panted, arms wrapping around his neck, “fat fucking cock all needy, just me.”

“Jus’… just for you! All - ah, all for you,” Jonathan repeated with a squeak, lips bitten delicately between his teeth. 

Your hands trailed all over his body, and as the pleasure was getting to you, making your head dizzy and your thoughts foggy, you bounced down on him and your nails scratched up his back, surely leaving small wounds. 

This miniscule amount of pain seemed to amplify Jonathan’s endless pleasure, and you could feel him pumping you full of his come once again, the tip of his dick pressed flush against your cervix. His come made you feel so full, fuller than you already did with his monstrous cock nestled into you, continually rubbing up on the toe-curlingly spongy spot in your cunt every time you pushed him back in. 

“Mmf,” Jonathan groaned, pleasure muffling whatever he was was going to say, “m’gonna… gonna get you pregnant,”

“Yeah?” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut, “Is that what this needy cock wants? To get my wet cunt full and me pregnant?”

“Yes, yes, hnngh, please, wanna come - wanna come more,” Jonathan cried out. 

“‘kay, okay,” you nodded vehemently, “then make this pussy feel good.” 

Then, you slid out with a whimper, two loads worth of come spilling out of your worn-out cunt, turning around so your ass would face him, before you sunk back down on him. You were chasing your own pleasure now, the unmistakable feeling rumbling within your lower stomach. 

Jonathan was completely fucked out, just a shaking, hot and bothered mess on the sticky wooden chair you’d both occupied, but he still welcomed your warm pussy back on him with open arms. Your folds beat any other cunt he’d ever been in, and he knew nothing, not even his own hand, could match up to how addicting you were, how delectably you took him. 

The new angle had you reeling, your hands gripping Jonathan’s thighs for some much-needed support. You were buckling, getting weaker with every bounce, but were still desperate for release. It affected Jonathan too, and he was pressing his face up against your hair, biting down lightly on your shoulder to collect himself despite the earth-shattering pleasure you were inflicting on him. 

Your fleshy cunt met his rock-solid cock every moment perfectly, and soon enough your back was arching, head leaning back on Jonathan’s shoulder. That knot in your stomach was tightening, a fire burning within you and begging you not to stop.

Jonathan’s needy hands were coursing all over your body, rubbing on you in all the right places, and when his calloused fingers began pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples, you saw white. That burning feeling dragged across your entire body, your jaw tensing, and you felt positively fuzzy, pure pleasure destroying all coherent thoughts you’d been having, your mind now focussed on the insane way he made you orgasm. 

There was nothing that could compare to how you felt now, this being the hardest you’d orgasmed in your entire life. There was just something about Jonathan — be it how unbelievably big he was, or perhaps the odd tension that surrounded you two for the past few years — that made this experience ten times, no, a hundred times, better.

It was like his dick had been artfully crafted to stretch you out and stuff you full; that thick cock, made just for you. 

In place of your weakening strength, Jonathan kept his hand tweaking your breast, and his other hand gripped your hip tightly, helping you bounce up and down on his cock. Thus, the pleasure was maximized by his touch, and you rode out your high like that for a few more long moments. 

You stayed there, on his lap panting and drooling, for a few more seconds, before you climbed off of him, grimacing at the loss of his sweet cock in you. 

You stood shakily, feeling his come ooze out of your sticky hole, and you were surprised to see that Jonathan was still hard. He was panting, head leaning against the chair, hands and legs trembling, but his dick could probably still pump out another round of come. 

You did always wondering how he’d taste, and after seeing how long and thick he was, you wanted to know if his dick could make you cry, too. So, you kneeled down on the cold floor, pulling him by the ankles a little further off the chair, so you could get better access to him, and buried your pretty little head between his shaking thighs. 

“What’re you— doing?” Jonathan said blearily, but before he could continue, your soft lips wrapped around him, and your tongue began artfully swiveling his sensitive head.

The loudest moan you’d heard so far was drawn out of Jonathan, and more, similar noises came out of him. It was nonsensical, and unintelligible, but you could tell he was having the time of his life — as if he hadn’t just orgasmed three times prior. 

You started slowly, mouth taking his cock until you felt like you couldn’t anymore, before forcing past that point and making yourself take him to the back of your throat. Tears lined the rims of your eyes, your head swimming from lack of oxygen, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and whine out from how good you were servicing him, his pretty groans reaching your ears like music. 

You pulled his cock out of your mouth when you felt like you were going to pass out, and then you began lapping up at his cock, sucking and curving your tongue around his long length. You sucked him hard and fast, and then, his hands grappled at your hair. 

At this point, you believed the aphrodisiac was wearing off, and Jonathan, now a little more clearheaded, began face fucking you, filling your sweet mouth full with his filthy cock. He couldn’t resist doing so, especially with you looking up at him through your tear-stained lashes, hollowing out your cheeks and gripping his thighs like your life depended on it. 

You gagged on him, several times, but he didn’t care, and with a jolted thrust past your swollen lips, he came, squirting all he had left down your throat. You sucked and swallowed every drop of him into your mouth, loving the taste of his salty liquid. 

Now, you were both fucked out, beyond tired, the strain on your muscles settling in. Your core had been properly exercised, what with how many times you rutted into Jonathan, and he, similarly, had a strained back with how much he arched into your touch, his aphrodisiac-clouded mind wanting nothing more but to be touched by you. 

“Good god, woman,” Jonathan said, collapsing into the wooden chair, which was sticky with sweat, come and your cunt’s soaking wetness. “You could’ve just said you wanted to fuck,”

You panted, dropping down onto the cold floor beneath you and wincing. “We’re — we were, just friends.”

He waved away your words, “We live together, darling. Not quite sure if that's “just” friends.”

You looked up at him, before laughing agreeably. “Felt good though, didn’t it?” A smug grin made its way on your lips, remembering how submissive Jonathan had been, how desperate he’d been just for the slightest bit of touch. 

“Amazing,” he said exasperatedly. “But next time, you’re not topping.”

“Next time, huh?” You said brightly, shakily getting up. Jonathan helped you, both of you limping exhaustedly up the stairs to your actual house, where you really should’ve been fucking, instead of the clinical environment of your large basement lab.

Jonathan’s hands found your ass, pulling you flush against him and kneading the flesh roughly. “Why not? Don’t you wanna know how I fuck?” he whispered suggestively into your ear, nibbling at the lobe. 

“I think, you’ve still got some aphrodisiac in you, Jon.” you said, laughing breezily. 

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #batman #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathan crane x reader

[cemeterygirlrocks]

TESTING | — j.c

Summary; You’re testing a new type of chocolate you made on Jonathan.

Content; P in V, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, black fem reader, reader has female anatomy, sub!jon.

“Can you sit still? God.” You were standing over the doctor while he was in a straight jacket, sitting down in a chair trying to move even though both his legs were tied down to the feet of the chairs.

“I-It’s hard, you know. What the fuck was in that chocolate?” While turning hard to stifle your laugh, you turned your face away from his view.

A whine fell from his lips, licking over his swollen pink lips. This chocolate made him feel warm inside, too warm for his liking.

“Can you l-look at me Y/n, please?”

You and Jonathon didn’t share a home, but he always found his way into yours. It honestly made you mad, but no matter how many locks you get changed, he always finds his way in.

This time, when he arrived you weren’t there. Like he always does, he snooped. Throughout your living room, bathroom, only stopping in the kitchen.

He was so excited, you had made snacks.

There was brownies, chocolates, lollipops. You knew he liked chocolate, you were testing him.

So when he ate it, he couldn’t help but eat four out of the six you had made.

Why would you look at him, after his dumb decision.

You were in lingerie, pink striped bra along with the same itty bitty striped panties.

Your favourite, paired with black heels. You had just got out of the lab, and you came home to this.

The only reason you did it was to give him some sort of relief. It wasn’t in your plan for him to eat the chocolates, you were gonna test them on a random homeless dude you’d freshen up.

All because he was stupid, so stupid, that now you were in this predicament.

Although you couldn’t help but like how precious he looked.

Restricted and hot.

Jonathan really had enough, you were just watching him. His body language, the way he was reacting. Scribbling away in that clipboard of yours, lifting up your black glasses when they slid down your nose.

“Help me, c’mon?” Groaning, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“I did! Took off my clothes just like you asked, why do you have to be so ungrateful?”

A choked moan escaped from him, every insult, every word you let leave your lips made his skin crawl.

He was heating up, just from your stare, “I’m sorry, mmfu—please? D-Do something.” You pouted, your hands falling onto your hips.

Jonny barely said please, surprised you. This really did make anybody beg.

“What do you want? I wanna see how it affects you, okay? Wait, so impatient.” Huffing, you began bringing your attention back to to your clipboard.

“The fuck are you doing in my house?” You yelled, jumping at the sudden presence of Jonathon.

He grinned at you, still stuffing his mouth with the chocolate. You tilted your head for a minute, until it clicked.

Running up to him, you took the last piece out of his hand, smacking him on the head. “You really shouldn’t have eaten this.”

The man rubbed his head, looking at you with the most confused look on his face.

“Ne—Need anything. I’ll take anything you give me at this point. Hurts so bad momma.”

He only ever called you momma once before. It was an accident really, you guys worked together you should’ve never got too close with him.

It happened though, you forgot it ever happened, blocking it out of your brain. He on the other hand, brought it up almost anytime you guys were alone.

You were done examining, now it was time to make it go away. Either he sat like this for at least twenty four hours; or, you helped him.

Crouching down a little bit, you smiled at him, “You want some relief Jonny?” He was sweating, eyeing her pretty pouty lips.

They were so big, so edible looking. “Mhm, p-please?” The doctor was panting, his heart beating out of his chest.

It made him so warm, he was feeling this unsettling warmness, and oh how it wouldn’t go away.

You unzipped his pants teasingly slow, a grin plastered on your face. His hips bucked up at the sudden feel, any touch by you made his stomach clench.

“Ohh f-fuck. Mhm, mmm. Please please please please?”

Giggling quietly, you watch him shake at the slightest touch. “Making you real desperate hm? Huh Jonny? Is it?”

You gripped his member, a shaky breath letting itself show, he wanted to cum, he needed to.

Two strokes in he was mumbling incoherent words to himself, a little tear falling down his face. He wasn’t sobbing, yet.

“I can cum? Fuck please? Oh shit, I’m gonna fucking cum. You’ll let me? I-I can’t hold it in momma.” You smirked, your covered tits hovering just in front of his face.

He could see, smell, but he couldn’t touch. The smell drove him to the end, made his legs shake and his heart pulsate way higher than the regular rate.

“I’m cumming, fuck I’m cumming.” Jonny couldn’t stop with the heavy breathing, made you get annoyed.

“Can you shut the fuck up Jonny? So loud, calm down.” He bit down on his bottom lip, stifling a moan as warm hot liquid shot from his needy tip.

Jonathan was shuffling so much, trying to get free from the straight jacket. It was so hard though; made him pout, and made happy you laugh.

“You aren’t escaping, you done? Ima little tired Jonny.”

“No! Fuck! Please please no, I can take more. I’ll show you, ju-just touch me again. I’ll give you more of me, I promise Y/n.”

Smiling brightly while playing with his cum, you kissed your teeth, humming a soft note.

Rubbing his warm nut all over his cock, you started again. This time you weren’t as nice, swiping your thumb over his tip while doing an up and down motion.

Jonny could feel it, felt so good but hurt so bad. You heard sniffling, moving your head up to see tears flowing down his face in a crazy speed.

“P-Please momma, I really want it. I’ll give you so, so much If you let me. Hm? How bout that Y/n? You want my cum?”

You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes, “Every time we talk it’s always you asking the questions. You always wanna take the lead doctor, can’t you see you aren’t in the position to right now?”

“I’m sorry, oh fuck. It’s coming, it hurts so bad.” He sniffled, still more tears streaming.

“Oh stop that crying, don’t be a baby. You ate my chocolates, your fault not mine.” He couldn’t deny it was his fault, so stupid but so smart.

The knot in his stomach untied and he felt so little relief. He needed more, he wanted more.

“I-I know you’re tired, but I need more. I’m sorry, please?” You huffed. You weren’t tired, even though you made it seem so.

He was so needy, so dependent on you. Made your skin hot, made his skin hot.

“You’re gonna be begging me to stop.”

xo, liah

#black!fem!reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #blackfem!reader #black reader #black fem reader #black!reader #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathon

[scarecrowismybabygirl]

I think about this scene in Batman Begins out of context at least 10 times a day.

#he should be forced to wear that straitjacket at least twice a week #that's how he looks his best #obedient crane is the best crane #sub!jonathan crane #jonathan crane #batman begins #scarecrow #nolancrane #nolancrow #murphycrow #cillian murphy #the dark knight #christopher nolan #arkham

[slut4thebroken]

Favorite Toy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x dom!reader

Summary | Jon just can’t control himself when it comes to you, but you always make sure he cleans up after himself when you’re finished.

Warnings | 18+, smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, objectification, cream pie, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, come eating, he’s a whore but he’s our whore, dom!reader is so mean and we love it, fluff, aftercare, sub space, a lil bit of soft dom!reader at the end

Words | 2.8 k

Notes | I don’t remember what I saw that inspired me to write this but… god bless whatever that was 🙏🏻 I might edit this again later lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Oh god- please.” He moaned into the kiss, grabbing your hips tightly. You continued grinding on him and pulling his hair, not responding to his plea yet. “Please… fuck.” 

Mostly for your own sake rather than his, you relented. You removed his clothes and your own quickly, then placed your hands on his chest as you kneeled over his hips. He let out a choked moan when you sunk down on his cock and you bit your lip to keep your sounds to a minimum. You stared down at him, admiring his flushed cheeks and red lips that were wet from the kiss. 

“That feel good?” 

“Yes— oh god, yes. Please,” He said through a breath, whimpering and trying to grind his hips up into you. 

You lifted your hips slowly, then lowered them just as slow. After only two more thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and he threw his head back with a low moan, making you freeze. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you and the heat of his come against your walls. 

“Hnngh- no.. no, please.” He whimpered, trying to get the stimulation back. 

“Did you just fucking come?” You asked, almost in disbelief, once his body sagged into the bed and he started panting as he calmed down. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I— Normally I can last longer.” He defended, cheeks burning even redder now. “I- I can eat you out? To make you come. Please?” You let out a loud laugh, making his brows furrow. 

“Oh, angel… you don’t think we’re done do you?”  

“W-” Before he could even get the word out, you were continuing, fucking yourself on his length, making him choke out moans and whimpers. “Fuck— fuck, wait… Please,”

“Save it. If you didn’t want to be overstimulated, you shouldn’t have come only a few seconds after getting this pathetic fucking dick in my cunt.” You spat, making him groan. “I don’t care if it’s too much. I’m going to fuck myself with my dildo until I come and you’re going to thank me for using you instead of my other toys.” 

“Fuck,” He gasped out, fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, but not controlling your movements. “Oh god— thank you.” He whimpered, face scrunched up in painful pleasure. 

“I’m not convinced. Should I go get another toy?” 

“No! No- I’m sorry. Thank you— Thank you for using me.” He cried, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes. 

“That’s more like it.” You cupped his cheek, running your thumb over his swollen lips, then suddenly jerked your hand back and smacked him across the face. His head turned from the impact as a loud moan escaped his lips. 

“I can’t believe you fuck like a goddamn virgin.” You spat, wrapping your hand around his neck and squeezing. “Is my pussy too much for you, baby? Can you not take it?” You cooed mockingly, making him whine. 

“N-no I… I can take it. Please, I can take it, I promise.” He whimpered, eyes welling with tears of desperation and overstimulation. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?” Your hips started more of a rocking motion as you leaned back up, releasing his neck to steady yourself with a hand on the headboard. “Well don’t just lay there like a fucking pillow princess. Rub my clit, play with my nipples, do something.” 

“Sorry— I’m sorry.” He decided to do both, one hand reaching down to rub firm circles over your clit and the other rolling your nipple between his fingers. When that wasn’t enough he snaked his hand around to your back and pulled you down, his head meeting halfway so he could suck your nipple into his mouth. 

“Good boy.” He whimpered against you, then kissed his way to the other one to give it the same treatment. “This is why you’re my favorite toy, baby. You do exactly what your purpose is— make me feel good. Sure you can get a little eager and come embarrassingly fast but the pros definitely outweigh the cons.” He whined at the subtle degradation, but you could feel his cock twitch against your walls. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to come again?” You scoffed in mock disbelief, making him lean up even more so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck and trail kisses across it. “Awe, honey… Are you getting a little shy?” You cooed, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t be. I think it’s cute— reminds me of how desperate I can make you.” You chuckled, making him whine. 

“Go ahead then. Make another fucking mess— but just know, you will be cleaning it up later.” He let out a strangled whimper as his whole body stiffened, then started twitching and spasming. “There you go, just get it all out, darling.” You cradled his head and slowed your hips to a stop when his orgasm finally faded. “You make the cutest little whimpers when you come.” His cock twitched inside you again, making him release a pained whine. 

“But let’s see now… That was two orgasms for you, and how many for me again? Oh that’s right. Zero. All because you’re a greedy little slut who can't wait longer than a few minutes before coming.” You spat, roughly pulling on his hair to move him away from your body so you could see him. “Fucking pathetic. First I have to do all the work, then you can’t even make me come.” 

“No- no… ‘m sorry.” He mumbled. Of course he’s already worn out before you’ve even started. 

“God— look at you.” You took his cheeks in one hand and turned his face side to side, examining him. “So fucked out already. You getting tired, baby?” 

“No… ‘m awake.” 

“If you’re not, you will be soon.” You started riding him again, chasing your own orgasm now. You threw your head back with a low groan, listening to his pained moans and whimpers. “I can’t believe a cock this good is attached to a pathetic little boy who can’t control himself. It’s a shame really.” He let out a choked sob and despite the fact that he was all but begging you to stop, he still continued rubbing your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. 

“But it’s okay. I know how to handle bitches like you; just ignore them. Let them whine and beg and tire themselves out until you have a pliant, fucked out toy. I can tell you’re almost there, baby. Just let go.” He whined and squirmed, tears of humiliation and overstimulation brimming in his eyes, making the pale blue all the more beautiful. “I know all you want is to be my good boy, so just let go.” You whispered, gaze trailing all over his face, from his flushed cheeks to his red, swollen lips. “You can do it, angel. I’m right here— I got you. Just let go for me.” He let out one last pathetic whimper as a tear rolled down his temple into his hair. His bottom lip was trembling now and you leaned down to give him a soft kiss. 

“There you go. I’m so proud of you, honey. Just let me make us both feel good, yeah?” He bit his lip and nodded slowly, making the corners of your lips turn up. 

“Think you can come one more time?” He whimpered and averted his gaze, and for a second you almost thought he was about to say no or the safe word. 

“Yes.” He whispered instead, making your heart flutter. 

“Good boy. You’re so good for me.” You cupped his face, running your thumb over his cheek bone. “I know you can’t help it, baby. It makes me feel so good though, knowing how much you like it.” 

“‘m sorry.” He whimpered. 

“I know, angel. It’s okay. Make me come and I’ll forgive you, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a warm smile in return. Your breath caught in your throat and your hips stuttered when he rubbed your clit faster and harder. “That’s it.” You said through a breath. “Just like that.” 

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, so you forced yourself to continue even though your legs were starting to burn. When his pained moans turned into desperate whimpers, you knew he was close too. Trailing a hand down his chest, you brushed your fingers over his nipple, then pinched lightly, making his back arch into your touch as he let out a choked moan. 

“Oh god—“ He whined, more tears falling. “Fuck, I- I’m close…” He whispered. 

“Yeah? Keep it up, angel— doing so good for me, I’m almost there.” 

“God- it hurts.” He whimpered, body conflicted on whether it wanted more or less of the stimulation. You released his nipple and slowed into a rocking motion, making him whine. 

“What’s your color?” You asked softly, just wanting to be sure. His brows furrowed as his hips squirmed under yours. 

“Green…” He muttered, cheeks flushing. You brushed his hair out of his face a little more and he closed his eyes at the gentle touch. 

“Tell me the second it changes, okay?” 

“I will.” You could tell he was getting needy again after being so close to another orgasm. You suddenly picked up the pace and started bouncing up and down, making him throw his head back with a strangled moan. When you rested your hands on his chest for extra support, his free hand shot up to hold your arm, so you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers before pinning it to the bed. 

“Please.. Want you to come.” He whined, rubbing your clit impossibly faster. 

“I will, baby. Almost there.” You said through a breath. He stared up at you with half lidded, glossy eyes, his lips parted in a silent moan as his chest heaved. “You look so perfect like this.” You whispered, making his already flushed cheeks turn even redder. “My pretty boy.” He whined and gripped your hand tighter in response. 

If the feeling of hot come hitting your walls wasn’t enough of an indication, his eyes squeezing shut and the long, strangled whine he let out made it obvious. His fingers on your clit faltered, but quickly picked up again once his orgasm started to fade. 

While part of you wanted to edge yourself and keep torturing him, you couldn’t hold back at the sound of his pained whimpers, so you let yourself fall over the edge. It was hard to keep up the movement of your hips through your orgasm, but he maintained steady pressure on your clit, letting you ride it out. 

“Fuck, good boy.” You groaned, dragging your nails down his chest as your other hand tightened around his. His breath hitched at the sting, but you could feel his cock twitch nonetheless. You panted as you calmed down, needing to bat his hand away from your clit once you got too sensitive. 

“Ready to clean up your mess?” You asked, still breathless. He nodded, staring up at you with wide eyes, wincing when you lifted yourself off his softening cock. You moved quickly, shuffling up his body until your legs were on either side of his head. “Every drop, okay?” He nodded again, then eagerly wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down onto his face. He focused mostly on your hole, licking up your shared arousal and fucking his tongue inside you. When you pulled back, he whined and looked up at you, wondering why you made him stop. You reached down and scooped up some of his come, then sucked it off your finger, making his lips part as his eyes widened. 

“Tastes good. Want some?” You asked, even though he was already tasting it. He nodded dumbly and you scooped up some more then put it in your mouth and grabbed his cheeks to keep his mouth open as you leaned over him. He let out a choked moan when you spit his come into his mouth and you could practically feel how warm his cheeks were getting under your hand. 

“Swallow.” He whined and averted his gaze, but did what you said. “Good boy.” You lightly hit his cheek then got back into position over his face. He picked up where he left off eagerly and you placed a hand in his hair to hold him against you. Your legs were starting to shake and you desperately needed to stretch your knees, but you didn’t want to stop— not yet. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He moaned in agreement, making your hips buck against his face. “Yeah I bet you are. Fucking filthy— lapping up your own come from my pussy like a fucking dog.” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows, his eyes becoming glossy with tears. “Isn’t that right, puppy?” The new pet name had him working even more enthusiastically, sucking and licking the come out of you and occasionally giving your clit some attention. 

Originally you weren’t planning on coming again, you were just going to have him clean up his mess and that was it. But you forgot how talented he is with his mouth… 

“You want me to come on your face?” He released a muffled “yes!” against you, not bothering to pull away just to speak. You suddenly lifted yourself off of him and laid down to give your legs a break, making him look at you like a kicked puppy. “Get to it then.” You said, gesturing to your lower half. He quickly got up and settled between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you as he continued. You sighed and reached down to pet his hair, not yet grabbing it, much to his dismay. You moaned lowly and his eyes snapped up to your face. 

“At least you don’t eat pussy like a virgin.” You smirked, watching him avert his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey, it was a compliment.” It wasn’t really a compliment though, which he seemed to pick up on. 

The sound of him slurping up your shared arousal was loud compared to your stifled moans and you let your eyes fall shut as you focused on your impending orgasm. When he started whimpering and whining though, you opened your eyes again, finding his hips grinding against the bed. 

“Greedy fucking slut. Trying to come again?” He whined and looked up at you with furrowed brows. You could tell he was trying to stop the movement of his hips. “If you like the taste of your own come this much, maybe I shouldn’t let you come inside me anymore. Maybe I’ll just have you come in a cup so you can drink it instead.” He released a muffled whine as a protest. 

“How about this, you make me come in the next 30 seconds, and I’ll let you keep coming inside. Sound fair?” He nodded enthusiastically, making you smirk. “Alright. Clock starts now.” The only reason you gave him this challenge was because you’re already close. You like having him come inside just as much as he does and you’re too hedonistic to deny yourself that pleasure.

He ate you out desperately, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and you didn’t even bother with counting because you knew you were only seconds away from your orgasm. Tightening your grip on his hair, you pushed him into your cunt, making him whimper. Finally you fell over the edge, letting out a low moan and grinding on his face as you held him close enough to suffocate him. But he didn’t even attempt to protest, not when you were literally coming on his face. Once your orgasm finally started to fade, you pulled him away, making him whine. 

“C’mere, pretty boy.” You said softly. He crawled up the bed and laid by your side even though most of his body was on yours anyway. You grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his face before letting him lay on your chest. “Such a good boy. Made me feel so good.” You cooed and he snuggled into your chest even more as he hugged your torso. You ran your fingers through his hair and he let out a satisfied hum. 

“How are you feeling, honey?”  

“Good. Deep.” He mumbled. The first time he said that, you didn’t realize that he meant deep into sub space and he had a hard time getting the words out to explain. But now you know that it’s as close as he can get to giving you a heads up about the way he’s feeling. 

“Tired?” He hummed in agreement. “Me too.” The exhaustion hit you full force once your orgasm finished and you were just laying down.

“I love you.” He mumbled sleepily, making the corners of your lips turn up as your heart fluttered. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before responding. 

“I love you too, angel.” 

Taglist

@scarecrow-jon-babe @quietnymph11 @obsessiveimpulses

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #dom!reader #sub!jon #I want to ruin him #so badly

[mypoisonedvine]

Sub! Jonathan crane. That’s it. That’s the post.

I've gotten so many requests for sub!crane it's actually not even funny I NEED TO WRECK THIS MAN!!!

warnings: orgasm control, bondage, 'good boy' and praise kink

"And you're gonna be good?" you challenged, making him nod profusely. "Promise?"

"Promise," he insisted through his teeth, "just please touch me..."

You dragged your fingers delicately over his cock as it bobbed, his arms flexing against the ropes keeping them tied and held up above his head as he sat on the bed. He sighed and dropped his head back, even just that simple touch making him shiver after being teased for so long.

"I'll be so good," he begged again, "please... I'm gonna be your good boy."

You grinned and bit your lip, wrapping your hand around his cock fully-- he whined, jerking slightly, but managing to stop himself from bucking into your touch. "My good boy, huh?" you repeated. "So you'll come when I tell you to?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"If I told you to come right now, could you?" you wondered. He didn't respond for a moment, biting his lip and looking down at your hand slowly stroking him, before nodding.

"Yes," he admitted shamefully, "yes, I could, if you told me to."

"Well, I won't make you embarrass yourself," you offered with a smile. "I won't tell you to come until you've made me come. Twice."

"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath as you began to straddle his lap.

"Still gonna be my good boy?" you raised your brows as you teased his tip against your entrance, making him bite down on his lip to muffle a whimper. "Not gonna come inside me without permission?"

"No-- I can be good," he promised, "I'll be so good, fuck, I'll do anything."

You sunk down onto him, watching his face break into a loud moan as he finally got some real attention after almost an hour of being held on the edge. "I know you will, sweet boy," you cooed, "now sit tight while I use this pretty cock of yours."

#jonathan crane x reader #sub!jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #sub!jonathan crane smut #scarecrow x reader #sub!scarecrow x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

[no-1peakyfan]

Thomas Shelby is that type of boyfriend to say "yes ma'am" whenever his girlfriend tells him to do something in a even slightly authoritative tone

Prove me wrong (you can't)

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #sub!tommy #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader

[iasikaijutopia]

😏

#scriddler #riddlecrow #jonathan crane #edward nygma #gotham #dark knight trilogy #cillian murphy #cory michael smith #gay #gay mlm #not safe for work? ish #nsfw-ish #smut #top jonathan crane #bottom edward nygma #dom jonathan crane #sub edward nygma #scarecrow #the riddler

[floralcyanidee]

ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

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MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?” 

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 

“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christian bale smut #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane smut #batman #batman begins #floralcyanide writes

[kiss-me-cill-me]

hear me out:) reader wants to try vanilla sex with Dr.Crane since he always has some kind of twist or experiment when it came down to it. And he ends up doing her against the wall and it’s just really intimate. love your works, and it’s totally fine if this isn’t something you would write🤗

I love a challenge haha ;) And I always enjoy getting to explore different sides of a character. While he might not be nice in most of my fics, I do think that Crane has a sweet side. Somewhere in there lmao. Thank you for requesting, anon!

V. planifolia

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Your boyfriend comes home unexpectedly early, and you take the opportunity to try something new.

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of bondage, mentions of edging, slight overstim, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint, dare I say... some domestic fluff? (in MY Jonathan Crane?!), established boyfriend/girlfriend relationship

A/N: The biggest mental hurdle I had to overcome in writing this was referring to him as "Jonathan" instead of "Crane" lmao. He's just always Crane in my head. And while things are pretty vanilla, he's still sassy, because... well, it is me writing him lol

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

You were so used to your boyfriend coming home late that it was almost a surprise when he showed up just thirty minutes after you'd finished dinner.

“Jonathan?” you called, cautiously getting up from the couch to investigate.

You'd heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, so logic dictated that it couldn't have been an intruder. But it was barely seven o’clock, and Jonathan didn't usually get home until after you were already in bed. He worked long hours; he always had. So you were shocked to see him standing there in the entryway, setting down his briefcase as he closed the door behind him.

“Baby? What are you doing home early?”

At the sound of your voice, he looked up. A small smile fluttered over his face; his eyes pale and tired, until they caught a glimpse of you. There was that mischievous little spark that you loved.

“Sorry to startle you,” he replied. “I can leave if you'd like.”

He was joking, and you laughed a little as your arms wrapped around his waist. Your bodies found each other easily, and you felt yourself sink against him in that comfortable way that you knew so well.

“No way - you're not getting away from me that easily,” you teased.

Your lips brushed against his, and Jonathan pulled you in closer until you were kissing him. As you sighed happily, you realized that it had been - approximately - forever since the last time you'd had an evening alone with him. You pulled away and looked back at him softly; gentle concern tinting your eyes.

“I'm happy you're home, but is everything okay?” you asked. “You really are back early.”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured you.

Jonathan gave you one more squeeze before he gently broke the hug, trailing off in the direction of the living room. You followed, a small skip already creeping into your step. Your smile threatened to break out at any moment. It was so good to have him home.

You watched from the doorway as Jonathan dropped heavily onto the couch, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling as he sat. His jacket was already thrown over the back of a chair, and he rolled up his shirtsleeves, not watching what he was doing.

“I know that I haven't been home much,” he continued. His voice seemed to fill the room, making the small space feel even more intimate. “Work has been eating me alive.”

“I hope not literally,” you joked.

Though you could never be sure. Some of the patients he worked with at Arkham were… unique, to say the least.

“Not yet.”

He lifted his head to look over at you, briefly, before reclining again and throwing an arm over his face. Even with his eyes shielded, you could still feel the lingering, icy cold rush of his gaze. You walked over and knelt at his feet, helping him to remove his shoes.

As you tugged at the laces, you felt a surge of devotion wash over you. Jonathan always worked hard. Even though, yes, he wasn't around much during the week, he made sure to provide for you. In fact, you were sure that was all part of the reason why he so often worked late. 

Once his shoes were off, you let your soft fingers drift up his leg, brushing against the fabric of his trousers.

“Did you have dinner? Do you want something to eat?”

“Maybe later,” Jonathan replied, as he took hold of your wrist.

Gently, he pulled you until you were standing up, and then until you were straddling him, your knees pressed into his sides.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” you asked, settling into his lap.

As you spoke, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Kneading into his tension, you could feel as his arms relaxed under your touch. 

“I just want to spend time with you.”

His fingers trailed over your thigh, and you knew instantly what he meant.

“Oh, so that's why you're home early,” you teased.

You leaned in to kiss him again, this time slipping a finger to hook under the knot of his tie, pulling him closer to you. His tongue brushed against yours, and it sent an electric jolt down your spine.

“Aren't I allowed to miss you?” he teased back.

You felt your cheeks heat up. Both of you knew very well that Jonathan was always the one in charge in the bedroom, and hearing him talk as if you were the one who imposed rules on him made you feel flustered.

“You have no idea,” he continued, “how hard it is to work late, when all I can think about is how you’re here all alone. Waiting up for me. You've been good though, right? Haven't been touching yourself without me?”

The heat on your cheeks deepened, traveling all the way down to your core. 

“O-of course not,” you replied, cursing the way your voice caught in your throat. It was just like him to somehow have you wrapped fully around his finger less than five seconds in. “You know I wouldn't.”

Jonathan hummed, and pushed your hips up and off of his lap as he brought a hand down to brush softly over your clit. You jumped, even feeling him through all your clothing, and your knuckles stretched tightly over his shoulders. 

“Seems like you're telling the truth…”

And you were. You melted into his touch as Jonathan swirled his fingers against you, pressing them roughly. After going without for so long, every nerve felt as if it was on fire in between your legs.

“Ohh…”

Your soft sigh earned you more pressure from Jonathan; his fingers nearly digging into your clothed cunt. You rocked your hips, desperately throwing your head back as you held onto his shoulders for support.

“Stop,” he ordered.

“Mmmmmph.”

Your petulant whine filled the room, and your frustration only grew as Jonathan took his hand away. His command had been gentle, but you were so needy that it felt like torture.

Swiftly, Jonathan stood up and took you with him. Still holding onto your hips for support, he made sure your feet were on the ground before stepping forward. He backed you up with him, until your shoulder blades hit the far wall.

“I really have been away for too long, haven't I?” he breathed, filling your mouth with the taste of anticipation.

“It's okay… I know you're busy at work.”

“You're too nice,” Jonathan sighed. “I want to hear just how badly you’ve missed me.”

Almost instantly, he got what he wanted as you cried out, shocked by the way his leg pushed eagerly between yours. He pressed harder, still looming over you.

“That's better.”

“Jonathan-”

“Want me to tie you up like I did last time?” he interrupted. “Or do you want to try something new?”

It was impossible to miss the hint of excitement in his deep voice. You moaned as he dragged your hips down even harder, pressing your bodies together with an intensity that was almost too much.

“I- was thinking it might be nice to try something a bit different,” you answered, your voice slightly fragmented as he unbuttoned your pants.

“Mmm. You have any ideas?”

You took a deep breath. What you had in mind probably wasn't the same as whatever twisted idea was running through Jonathan’s head. It wasn't that you didn't like experimenting. It was just… you didn't like doing it all the time. 

“I was thinking… what if we just took things slow?” you ventured.

“What? Like you want me to edge you?”

“No, not… exactly like that.”

It was getting harder to articulate, as Jonathan’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he moved up toward your jaw.

“Like what, then?” he whispered wickedly, right in your ear.

“Like… what if we were just kinda… gentle?”

Jonathan pulled back to look at you, the slight hint of a frown on his lips.

“But you like when I'm rough with you.”

“I do!” you rushed to agree. “It’s just that… sometimes I want you to be slow and sensual.”

Your arms inched up to hook round his neck, and you pulled him in for a soft kiss, trying to show him what you wanted. Jonathan was stiff at first, but eventually he melted into the slow movement of your lips.

When the kiss broke, Jonathan took a step back, removing his thigh from between your legs. He pushed his hands under your waistband and started to, very slowly, shove the fabric down over your hips.

“We can try that,” he relented. Then added with a mischievous wink, “But if you get bored… just let me know.”

You hummed as his hands slid over your curves, dragging your pants down with them. Jonathan never did anything halfheartedly, and if you wanted it slow, then that was exactly how he would give it to you. Even if it did drive you crazy in the process.

Your slacks fell, pooling below you on the hard floor. Jonathan paused for a moment, before planting a kiss on the exposed skin below where your blouse had started to fall away. He pushed back your collar, to kiss more and then send a shiver right after, as he breathed over the wetness that had been left behind by his mouth.

He stood up straight, pressing an airy kiss to your forehead as his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties.

“Am I doing it how you want me to, darling?” he asked.

You felt yourself swoon again. You weren't used to him following your lead quite like this, but you liked it. A lot.

As was clearly evidenced by the wet spot that had started to seep through the fabric that Jonathan was toying with. He found the trace of your arousal easily enough, and pressed two of his fingers into the damp cotton.

“Nevermind. I have my answer.”

Slipping your already-ruined panties to the side, Jonathan brushed his fingers over your core before bringing them up to your clit. Swirling with just the right kind of pressure, he dragged a soft moan from your lips.

“Oh my god,” you sighed. “Keep going.”

He kissed you, slowly but sinfully, swallowing all of your breathy sighs and words of admiration as they slipped out. It was impossible to contain them, especially when you started to feel his own arousal as it pressed up against your hip, seeming to grow more impatient the harder he got.

“Jonathan- so close,” you whined, breathless already.

“You sure you don't want me to edge you?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully.

“No - please, let me come.”

The pressure was already building. Soon, neither of you would have any choice in the matter. You just had to get him to keep going, long enough for you to push past the point of no return.

“Well, if you're asking so nicely…”

Another searing kiss sealed your fate, and you scrambled to hang onto Jonathan as you felt yourself start to crumble.

He held you, still pressed firm against the wall, and you heard a deep chuckle resound from his throat.

“Good to know even this kind of stuff makes you a mess,” Jonathan droned. “Or maybe you're just so used to me doing everything I want to you, that this actually counts as variety now.”

You were barely listening to him; still too distracted by the delightfully sore feeling that seemed to permeate your whole body.

What you did notice was him slipping your panties the rest of the way off, letting them fall at your feet before gently guiding you to step out of them. With that done, he turned his attention to your blouse, delicately removing it and then tossing it to the side.

Your hands came up clumsily to paw at the buttons on his shirt, trying in vain to release them. Jonathan saw you were struggling, and gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Let me help, darling. It seems like you're having some trouble.”

You moved your hands to let Jonathan take over. He loosened his tie easily, and popped three of his buttons. But, quickly, he lost interest, and instead moved to unzip his pants.

When he finally sprang free, his cock hit your still-throbbing clit.

“Ah!” you hissed.

“Still sensitive?” Jonathan asked, rubbing himself leisurely against you.

Your only response was a whimper, but that was answer enough. Jonathan’s lips curled into a wicked smile, as he hovered close to your ear.

“Hold still,” he teased, reaching down to line himself up.

You squirmed, fighting within yourself as half of you wanted to scream at the sensation while the rest of you, conversely, needed to grind down harder. Every contact made you jump, and as he pressed in, you saw stars.

“Jonathan…”

You had expected him to start moving, but instead he held off. Staying right where he was, Jonathan paused so that you could feel just how completely he filled you. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, sickly sweet voice dripping into your ears.

“Fuck,” you replied.

He laughed.

“You’ve lost quite a bit of your usual eloquence.” He started to drag himself out. “But okay. Since you asked nicely again…”

As he pressed back in, slow but rough, you couldn’t help letting out an undignified sound. Jonathan smirked.

When he did it again, your whole body shifted, pressed up by the force of his thrust. Your head rolled back, hitting the wall lightly before lolling off to the side. 

“You’re so pretty,” he sighed.

As he spoke, he reached down to hook one of your legs up and over his waist. The new angle caused you to let out another choked whine, which earned you an even harder thrust.

“Maybe we should do this more often. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you like this.”

You could only imagine how you must have looked. Mouth hanging open and eyes half-shut, rolling back into your head from the pleasure as your chest heaved and your knees gave out. Jonathan smoothed a thumb over the edge of your jaw.

“Even though I can’t stop thinking about all of the other things I’d like to do to you,” he added, punctuating the sentiment with his hips. You swore you felt him shudder.

Kissing your suddenly-warm neck, Jonathan thrust into you again. Your hips snapped back weakly to meet him, and you heard yourself start to moan. You held onto him tighter, dragging your nails down his arms.

“I thought you wanted to be gentle?” he teased.

He hadn't been going very fast, but now he slowed down entirely. For a moment, the two of you stood, face to face, your breath and his in a sweltering mix, pooling out in the scant space between you.

Jonathan’s forehead came to rest against yours, and you looked up into the blur of his eyes. Two hazy pools of blue ice that were filling your vision completely.

“Want me to speed up?”

“No, this is nice,” you replied. A bit dreamily as your senses took time to adjust. Your skin prickled at his touch as he brushed a hand lazily up your arm.

“I can be slow then,” he laughed. “But it might be too hard if you keep looking at me like that.”

“How should I look at you, hm?” you teased.

“Like you’re pretending you don't want to be turned around with your wrists pinned up against the wall,” he teased back.

He pressed into you, exploring how deep he could go before you started writhing against him. Your leg on his waist tightened, pulling him in and holding him firmly in place for a kiss. 

You knew he might take some convincing, but you were prepared to take all night to show Jonathan just how good things could be, after practicing a little patience.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane #LemmyFics

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

could you do a drabble on bratty sub!jonathan crane? literally on my knees begging you to!!

ALL YOURS ───

jonathan crane ✧

ೃ⁀➷ “…I wanted it to leave a mark: that’s how I knew I loved you. Because I wanted to be burned, stamped…” — ’Marathon’, Louise Glück.

pairing. sub!jonathan crane x reader

summary. jonathan’s been a brat all night. looks like you’ve got some taming to do…

warnings. swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, sextoys/use of dildo (m), oral sex (m), edgeplay, blindfold kink, brat-taming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 3.3k

a/n. anon this idea is genius i love it!!! also this was js supposed to be a blurb & now it’s got 3.3k words😭i apologize LMAO

Entering your shared condo, you pushed Jonathan down to his knees, smack-dab on the wood in the middle of your living room. “What the fuck was that?” you questioned, yanking him by his silk tie to look up at you.

“What was what?” he retorted, pretending to be clueless despite the impish grin that snuck its way onto his plush lips. 

You slapped him, lacy black gloves scratching at his thin skin. “I’ve had enough of your bratty fucking behaviour tonight.”

“Then do something about it,” he challenged, piercing his baby blues into you through batted, thick lashes. 

“Oh,” you hummed, roughly undoing the silk tie from his neck, tugging his thin glasses off and wrapping the fabric around his eyeline, “I have every intention of doing so.”

Just an hour ago, you and Jonathan had been attending a GothamU charity gala. It was a nice night— save for the fact he spent all of it pushing your buttons, speaking over you, and brushing off your existence to the guests there. “My date?” he’d purr to them, “she’s just my teaching assistant.” 

You’d send him your tell-tale warning glares, and he’d stare blankly back at you, respond in his pettiest tone, and continue reducing you to his measly teaching assistant — which, publicly, was who you were to him, but behind closed doors, it was him, pleading on his knees to touch you, to at least catch a whiff of your addicting scent. The man would probably thank-you if you stepped on him and you adored every bit of it.

He was acting out. Some sort of naughty pseudo-revenge on you, making you seem so much smaller than everyone else; making people think he was the big bad wolf and you were his little lamb. 

Boy, would they be utterly fucking wrong. 

You pulled Jonathan up by the lapel, then shirked numerous clothing articles from his three-piece suit, leaving him in his dress pants. You did the same — not that he could tell — peeling off your lacy gala gloves and throwing them onto your wood credenza, sliding your panties off and decorating your couch with them carelessly. When your hands brushed past the fabric of his crotch, you heard his breath hitch, unable to tell what you were going to do to him with the makeshift blindfold on. 

Honestly, with the attitude he had that night? You intended to torture him ‘till there were heavy tears streaming down his face, the only words on his tongue being ones begging for release. 

You sunk to your knees, unzipping his thin pants and licking a stripe up his cock — still within his boxers, of course. You heard Jonathan choke, and, looking up at him, you could see him clench his jaw, lips bitten, hands trembling. 

But, y’know, the torture bit and all that. So you pressed your wet mouth to his clothed cock, hot tongue dragging across his length; everywhere he needed it most, but with him still shuddering pitifully beneath his boxers. The contact felt good, fuck, your tongue always made him feel good, but he needed more. 

You heard Jonathan moan; a whiny, drawn out barely-intelligible plea, because your mouth had soaked the fabric, making it stick to his needy cock. “Fuck, please,” he pleaded, hands fumbling around your shoulders before finding the crown of your head. You wrapped your mouth along his clothed erection, humming in delight at his begging, until: “just fucking suck me off already, please.”

Your mouth stopped their ministrations at once, and all that was left was your hot breath on his twitching dick. “Come again?” you drawled, affronted beyond belief at his audacity.

Jonathan didn’t respond; he knew he’d taken it too far. You got back up, and squeezed his face with your hand. “I didn’t think so,” you growled at him. “Speak like that again and so help me god, I will fuck you ‘till you’re so dumb you’ll be thrown into Arkham.”

He whimpered at the threat — how humiliating it would be to be trapped in the place he was chief of — while squirming under your touch; but you still felt his hard-on roar to life even needier than before, aching near your inner thigh. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” you whispered, thumb brushing over his pink bottom lip. His mouth opened immediately, and your finger dipped onto his tongue, trailing deeper until he gagged. 

You grinned at his appearance: long gone was the respectable, genius Dr. Crane- now, he was a flushed mess, lips parted as he panted hot, needy breaths, spit leaking down his chin onto his bare chest. Fuck, did he ever look good so undone for you. 

Even his tie had slipped slightly off his eyes, and you could see him blink blearily, sweet lashes kissing his high cheekbones and leaving small, teary drops. You tugged the fabric back in place, then dipped your hand into his wet boxers, gripping his thick length tightly and pulling out.

“Why should I make you feel good? Why waste my effort, when you’ll just forget everything, like the stupid little whore you are, huh?” 

He keened, holding back his hips from bucking into your hand. “I’m sorry,” he panted raggedly, disrespectful demeanor slipping away in favor of being your little pet, “I’m sorry for tonight—“

“It’s too late to say sorry.” you scolded darkly, other hand coming up to his hair to tug it back and reveal his sensitive adam’s apple. You licked at the spot, then traveled your tongue to just under his jaw, suckling at his pulse. 

You drew out a pathetic squeak from him at the action, and you chuckled against his warm skin. “I’ll be good for you,” he promised quickly, “I - I’ll be good for the rest of my life. So… so please,”

“‘Please’ what?” 

“Please use me,” he replied shamefully, tone warbling halfway at the vulgarity of the request. 

You smirked, then began slowly pumping his long length. Your hand was so tight against him it was like a suction, and he let out several choked moans at the slow friction. Your other hand left his hair, making his head fall limply on his chest, and you fondled his balls, teasing him at first with mere grazes of your fingertips on the flesh, before squeezing them roughly.

“You gonna come?” you asked in a hum when his knees started buckling. “You gonna come just like that, just with my hand?”

“Yes, m’gonna come - gonna come,” he groaned, bucking quickly into your hand as you stroked him faster. 

“So pathetic,” you sneered suddenly, dropping his needy cock and watching it bounce on his thigh before springing up against his abdomen again, “didn’t ask for permission. Looks like you’re forgetting your fucking manners.”

At your harsh words and denial of release, Jonathan’s bottom lip trembled, small sniffling sounds coming from him, and you rolled your eyes— the needy bastard was fucking crying. 

“M’sorry,” he cried out weakly, “‘m’sorry… just felt so good…”

You watched his tears drip from under the tie down his neck, his shoulders shaking, and you sighed, sinking down to your knees. He was crying, because he fucking knew what it did to you; that his helpless whines made all the right pulses pang in both your chest and your core; that you would give in.

So, you took him in your mouth, hand stroking the bottom of his shaft while your tongue teased and touched the rest; sticky mouth wrapped moistly around him. Unbeknownst to Jonathan, however, is that while you adored his cries, the desire to have him begging was stronger. Thus, your tongue was barely doing anything, just tentatively licking him, too short for him to lose himself, too fast for him not to get overstimulated. 

You felt him try to thrust into your mouth, but your free hand gripped his bare thigh tightly. “Don’t move a muscle,” you grunted, and continued by angrily smacking the back of his thigh with your open palm. 

Jonathan whimpered helplessly, planting himself firmly in place. With that, you’d set the stage: you left his cock for a moment, quickly sauntering to your bedroom, and pulling something out from a velvet drawstring pouch you kept in your nightstand…

You heard Jonathan cry out for you, devastated like he thought you were gonna leave him teased and needy like this all night — which, you couldn’t blame him, because you had done that before — but no, you weren’t, because you wanted to ruin Jonathan tonight; put him back in his place; remind him who exactly fucking owns him. 

When you returned to the living room, he was still standing in the exact same place, but his hands were gripping his thighs with deadly strength, more lustful tears streaming down his face. 

“So obedient for me,” you murmured in amusement, getting back on your knees and slipping his weeping cock into your mouth. He gasped, pathetic delight filling his groans at your reappearance as you suckled softly on him. 

Jonathan was halfway through a “thank you” before you brought your thick dildo to the seam of his ass. The sudden touch made him flinch, hips bucking up and shoving his cock harshly into your throat. 

You choked momentarily, and he panicked: “Oh god, m’sorry, m’so sorry,” he sobbed, mind going fuzzy and blank with your skillful tongue pleasuring him, the tip of your dildo teasing his back entrance.

You laughed around his length, not saying anything and merely sucking him off faster, now pressing the wet dildo tip into his puckered hole. The thought of it entering him made your cunt pulse — you’d turned it on back in the bedroom, intent on getting it wet with your spit so you didn’t torture Jonathan too much, but instead couldn’t resist filling yourself. You’d bounced on the fat thing for a few moments, till it was completely soaked in your wetness, your back arching, cunt itching for release. 

Jonathan cried out from the sharp stretch in his hole, and you soothed him with a low hush, slowing your onslaught of pleasure on his cock so he could breathe. Once you heard a strained moan leave his lips, one that was much more desperate, much more raspy, you continued in sucking him off, wedging the rest of the dildo’s length into his tight hole. 

“If you come before I let you,” you warned when you felt Jonathan’s thighs clench, his breath catching in his throat and his moans going pitchy, “I won’t fuck you for a month.”

“A month?!” Jonathan questioned with a yelp, which dissolved into a moan when his hole clenched around the dildo’s silicone. “Fuck, hnngh, please, I can’t -- I needa come, but… a month?”

“A month. So be a good little whore, and don’t let go ‘till I tell you to.”

Jonathan whined, but his signs of release faded away, and you rubbed his hip approvingly. You pulled away for a final time, and dragged him by the arm to your couch. 

He almost tripped, legs trembling at the pleasure the dildo was sending up his body as it filled him, and it got worse from there: you slipped off his blindfold, and pushed him to sit on the cushy furniture. The dildo pushed that much deeper into his hole, brushing against his prostate and making him choke, before you climbed onto his lap and lined up his leaking head to your entrance. 

Jonathan couldn’t help the amalgamation of an overstimulated cry and loud moan that tore out of him: how could he, with the dildo’s fat cockhead flush against his prostate, your plush folds teasing his thoroughly-edged cock, and the withstanding rule not to come. 

You gazed softly into his watery blue eyes, which were red-rimmed and lined with pitiful tears. They were silently begging you to let him release, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more but to feel that familiar current run through him at last. 

His cheeks were flushed pink, lips bitten between the teeth; expression utterly wrecked, utterly desperate, utterly yours. He knew, just as well as you did, how much he fucking belonged to you: he would let you put a goddamn leash and collar around his neck if you just asked. 

Then, you pushed yourself up by the knees and hovered over his cock. You watched his face the whole time you sank down: his face screwed together when his tip peeked into your hole, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull when your took him halfway, his mouth opened and his spit-slicked tongue hung out of it when you bottomed out. 

“You’re so - tight,” he observed gingerly with a whimper. His gaze was glassy, heated mewls leaving his lips; the only thing on Jonathan’s mind was pleasure, every coherent or intelligent thought leaving him in favor of the primal need to orgasm.

You bit down your moan, your hands resting on both of Jonathan’s bare shoulders, kneading them softly. “Tight for you, baby. All tight for your good fucking cock.” you cursed huskily, and you felt Jonathan’s cock swell at your praise. 

His hands snaked up to your waist, hesitantly holding you, but when you didn’t protest nor scold him and instead lifted yourself up again to bounce down on his erect cock, Jonathan touched you feverishly, like he would never get enough of your skin on his. 

“Can - can I…” Jonathan started quietly, getting cut off by his own effeminate whine when you grinded down on him. “Can I -- ah -- touch your tits? Please?”

You smiled, finally content with his politeness (as well as the sweet sounds of his moans), “Go ahead, baby. Play with m’fucking tits.”

Jonathan smiled too, but it was so fucking happy he looked pathetic, eyes dilated like a kid on christmas just because you conceded one of his requests. His hands pulled your dress off your head, and you shuddered in the cold - as well as how easy it was for your legs to widen with the fabric gone, your body splitting on instinct to greedily pull in more of his length. 

He then groped your perky chest, tweaking your nipples every so often, practically salivating over the fat flesh of your breasts. He was so encapsulated with touching every inch of you that constant groans were leaving your mouth, sliding his cock in and out of your leaking hole faster. 

“So soft,” he groaned, amazement dripping off his every word. “Feels s’good, so sweet.”

“Yeah,” you panted, rolling your hips into his own and making his back arch, “you love m’tits so much, huh?”

“Love you,” he whimpered, obviously too fucked out to comprehend the connotations of his words, but you couldn’t resist pressing an adoring kiss to his lips anyways. 

Then you could clearly feel the pleasure in your insides building now, like rope twisting around your lower body, especially with the way Jonathan’s curved cock deliciously rubbed the entrance of your cervix with each bob. 

Then, you pried one of Jonathan’s needy hands away from your tender breasts, making him whine momentarily before he saw where you were leading his long fingers: right to your puffy clit. 

“Touch me, my sweet pet, and I’ll make you come.” You promised, pressing him roughly against you. 

Jonathan nodded eagerly, and his skillful fingers began artfully playing with your clit, pinching the flesh lightly and furiously rubbing your wetness over the button. Your sounds of pleasure were affecting him, too: you felt his cock throb when his fingers touched you just right and made a breathless mewl leave you. You pressed your forehead against Jonathan’s own, reveling in how focused he was on making you feel good, and you let go. 

Your orgasm flowed over you, making your body twitch and jerk into Jonathan’s relentless touch, the pleasure taking you over completely and making you scream his name. “Oh, fuck, Jon, so good, good boy, you’re my good fucking boy…”

“M’all yours,” he agreed, obviously getting extremely close to the edge as your throbbing cunt clenched around his length. “Yours.”

You breathed haggardly as your high slipped away, your eyes blinking slowly and watching Jonathan helplessly try to get himself off without overstimulating and upsetting you. He wasn’t made to take control, you knew that, and his clueless, pitfiful attempts to do so while still trying to keep your favor made you frown, and slide up off him.

“Lay face down, knees tucked in, baby,” you grunted through a wince, his too-thick cockhead reminding you of the stinging stretch that had long faded away and been replaced with pleasure. 

Jonathan didn’t waste a second obeying your commands, his weeping cock resting on his inner thigh. Your fingers brushed past the base of the dildo still within him, its long length disappearing into his puffy, bloated hole, making him buck forward on his knees. 

“Can you come on this fake cock, pet? You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?” Your said from above him, hand splaying on his left ass cheek and slightly tugging at the flesh to see how full he really was. Spoiler alert: you couldn’t take that whole length in your cunt, much less your tight ass. 

“I’ll come if you tell me to,” Jonathan mewled back, wriggling his ass flirtatiously beneath your hands in some desperate attempt to get you to fuck him and make him release at last. 

You got down on your knees, eyeline direct to his hole, and you snickered mockingly at his eagerness. After pressing a harsh bite on his ass and branding him as yours, you began to fuck him with the fake cock, thrusting it’s length in and out of his ever-tightening asshole and spitting on it to moisten his walls. 

Jonatgan let out several quavering moans, feeling every inch of the dildo within him because of the position, and he drooled a handful of spit onto the couch at the pure pleasure being inflicted on him. It was slightly embarrassing to come because of this silicone object rather than your soaking wet cunt, but as you pounded the dildo into his hole and made it roughly kiss his prostate, Jonathan decided he didn’t care. 

“Come for me,” you demanded gruffly, plowing the dildo in and out of Jonathan’s aching ass, “come undone, baby, all for me.”

At your words, Jonathan -- having been thoroughly tamed at this point -- came, spurting his rich seed onto the couch and his chest, a few drops making their way to his face. He felt you continue to press the length of the dildo in his hole as he rode out his high, and it made for the sickest, bordering-on-painful stimulation. 

It still felt heavenly, though: being allowed to come was the highest privilege for him, because it meant you thought he was worthy. Also, because it satisfied the aching monster within him, the one that wanted so desperately to be roughly fucked and toyed with. 

At last, you slid the dildo out of his hole, admiring how stretched out and wide it made him, before getting up from your place on the floor and sliding onto the couch. You helped Jonathan sit upright and lay his back on the cushy object, your warm hand clasping his cheek gently. 

“All obedient for me now, are you?” you whispered lowly, tickling the bottom of his chin to meet your gaze. 

Jonathan licked his plump lips, “You own me… mistress.” The title sounded right at home on his lips— on both your lips, and you smirked. 

“I like the sound of that,” you purred, a renewed vigor entering your body. Your arms clasped around Jonathan’s bicep, and you pulled him forward while laying down, making him press his tired weight on top of you. “M’gonna use you however I fuckin’ want,” you said in his flushed ear, before lifting your legs up to wrap around your waist.

His eyes widened, “What are you—“

“Shh,” you cut him off softly, hand coming down to squeeze one of his balls tightly, “just listen to Mistress. This night’s far from over, pet.”

Jonathan groaned, eyes squeezIng shut and feeling his cock spring up once more. Fuck, he thought, and damn this horny cock of his; damn your insatiable appetite; damn how fucking good it felt to be yours. 

All yours. 

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #burnyouwithacigarettelighter #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathan crane x reader

[cemeterygirlrocks]

FORGIVE ME | DR. JONATHAN CRANE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said he could cum whenever, so when he felt that pit in his stomach when her mouth attached to his needy head, oh he couldn't help it.

Y/n lightly grazed his dick with her teeth, he only liked it when he was getting punished, to induce the pain. Only doing two strokes of that, the girl sucked on his tip, her tongue swirling around it. That's what made tears fall down his face, when they reached his mouth he just licked them off.

His body tensed up and he choked back a moan, but Y/n didn't care. Humming and continuing her work she smirked when his warm liquid coated the walls of her throat.

It kept going, and she kept sucking. Milking him for all he had. When he finished completely, she slowly moved up off him, waiting for him to come back into reality. While he was doing so she scooched up, placing little tiny kisses along his jaw, circling down to his chest and back up.

"Thank you t- thank you, I'm sorry for what I did." Looking at her smiling softly with a blank stare he should've known at that moment, she wasn't finished.

"You wanna eat miss out? Hm?" Her voice was soft and innocent, yet her words were far from it. Lightly giggling when he nodded his head repeatedly.

She had no panties on under and her man always had a thing for short skirts, so she kept it on.

“Don’t do that, let me help you. Please.” Y/n was teasing him. He couldn’t pull her thighs down when she hovered over his face, licking his lips seeing how her wetness dripped down on her thigh.

“P- Please? I’m sorry, do you want me to beg? I- I can beg miss, if you want.” Y/n held onto his tied up hands while slowly lowering herself down into his mouth.

Letting out a sigh when his mouth came in contact with her heat, “You’re so good baby, fuck. I’m thinking bout forgiving you.”

Moaning into her cunt, he lapped up all of her juices, savouring the taste. She barely let him eat her out, and if this made her forgive him. Jonny would do anything.

The man was great with his mouth, playing with her clit with his tongue. “Mhmm, make me cum Jonny.”

Her hands tangled into his hair, her sharp nails scratching against his scalp making him groan loudly. He was so close, she didn’t even know.

Jonny let Y/n rub herself onto his face, using him for her own pleasure.

Her legs trembled and she lost balance, sitting directly onto his face. Jonathan did his best, sucking up every single drop she let go, his whimpers being muffled underneath her.

“Wow little Jonny, y- you’re actually useful for something.” She stood up, and got off the bed, not bothering to look at the man tied up.

When she did though, a laugh erupted from her. She kept going, the sound of her giggling made him feel small; humiliated.

“How embarrassing Jonathan.” He didn’t wanna look her in the face.

“I’m sorry.” The man sounded so embarrassed, oh how she loved that. “You wanna do it again? I think you can baby.”

He shook his head, he hated when she overstimulated him. “No, no. I said I’m sorry, c’mon? It hurts.”

While crawling up onto the bed towards him she smirked, her pearly whites making his heart jump.

“But I like when you hurt. Don’t you wanna make miss happy?” He didn’t wanna nod, and he didn’t wanna shake his head no.

Her nails scratched into his skin, red lines making their mark.

When her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he couldn’t help but let out a grunt, his eyes rolling back.

“Lets do it again, yeah?”

xoxo, liah

#dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!jonathan crane #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #black fem reader #black!fem!reader

[slut4thebroken]

Would subby!jon call dom!reader mommy? 🤨🤨🤨 I can’t tell

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #sub!jon #i’m in love with him #he’s so precious

[mypoisonedvine]

please read the warnings on every fic before clicking 'keep reading'! if you enjoy, please reblog and consider commenting. all my works are 18+ only.

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[no-1peakyfan]

It's not even funny atp, the things i'd do to this man shall not be said on the internet...

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #jonathan crane x reader #sub!tommy #peaky blinders #jonathan crane #batman begins #christopher nolan #oppenheimer #barbenheimer

[your-nanas-house]

hi!! for your cillian requests what about jonathan crane w/ aphrodisiac :3

Hello! Sure thing, dear!!

The Conference

◇ Pairing: professor!Jonathan Crane x student fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, dark, creampie, handjob, protected and raw sex, mean and sub Jonathan, Dom and sub Y/n, dub-con. (there's a lot of things in this fic)

◇ Summary: Dr.Jonathan Crane uses an aphrodisiac on himself and his poor favourite student has to help him.

◇ Note: This really may be one of the longest fic I ever written. It's also an amazing collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989. Well..Enjoy.

Darkness enveloped his surroundings as he moved closer towards the chemistry labs. The clicking of his shoes was the only sound he could hear, his footsteps echoing through the long corridor. He moved slowly and gracefully, his every move being a careful measure in an otherwise dim location.

As he got closer to the chemistry lab, the door appeared open, lights lit up the room inside, and he wondered if his favourite student was still working. 

His icy eyes moved down as his slender fingers pulled slightly up the sleeve of his suit so that he could check the time, 2:00 am he read silently before something quickly caught his attention.

There she was, in all her glory, his little pet, his favourite student, busy with her phone. All the materials and objects she had used were still scattered on the table, she was also still wearing the white lab coat even though her focus was clearly elsewhere.

Crane tutted silently, a mischievous grin stretched on his pink lips. Y/N had her back towards the door, oblivious to the fact that she wasn't alone in the lab anymore. Jonathan watched her carefully, noticing the light swaying and slumped shoulders caused by her tiredness. Perfect

After a moment he stalked closer, his perfectly polished black shoes moved soundlessly against the concrete floor without attracting her attention. Her small, fragile frame allowed him to easily peak over her shoulder, watching the compounds scattered on the table. A quick glance was enough to make him smirk again, as he recognized the familiar, violet but alluring  mixture.

”So hardworking.” He suddenly spoke up right by her ear, causing her to squeak, startled. Y/N turned around, eyes wide in surprise as she put hand on her chest in an attempt to calm down her pounding heart. 

”Professor Crane” She breathed out with relief, looking at him. For a moment the only sound filling the air was her deep breathing, before she straightened her back, looking up at him. ”I lost track of time and… and I'm almost finished with my project.” She explained with flushed pink, slightly ashamed that she overused his kindness staying in his lab for so long. Crane just nodded with understanding before he gestured towards the mixture, focusing back on her face. 

”Have you checked the clearance?” His voice was low, serious tone echoing through the room accompanying his emotionless expression. Distracted by his face, she blinked a couple times. ”a… a clearance?” Y/N repeated foolishly, completely not knowing what he was talking about.

Did I miss something? She wondered, as the sudden wave of anxiety tightened the knot in her stomach. 

”Yes. Have you checked it yet?” His blue eyes gazed into hers so intensely, that she couldn't focus properly. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she shook her head feeling like a child in trouble. 

”N-no, I haven't.. yet.” She replied quietly, acting like she knew what he was talking about. Jonathan had a hard time restraining his laugh, but he managed to keep his poker face. Nodding along, he shifted to the side. 

”Alright, go on then. Hold it up to the light and look at the consistency.” He instructed in a harsh, teacher tone. Y/n brushed a strand of hair away from her face nodding, before she grabbed the mixture, feeling her Atelophobia kicking back in. 

Holding it in the right hand, she held it up to inspect what her professor requested; a visible light shaking of her limbs made Jonathan’s blank face crack for a split second, allowing the switch to a devious smile that disappeared as soon as it came. Just perfect

Almost too easy, the psychology professor thought, his focused, predatory stare remained on the back of her exposed neck, his tongue darting to escape and wet his plumpy lips. In the process of waiting for the most appropriate time to act.

Jonathan maintained his predatory stare, not letting Y/n quivering limbs or trembling form escape from his sights. It was almost as if he was savouring the buildup, knowing that the effects of the aphrodisiac as soon as it will be taking complete control over his body—  such a perfect scenario to be able to take advantage of the vulnerable state his naive student will be in.

The professor felt his heartbeat quicken and his breath became heavier and shallower. It was as though he was becoming swept up in the moment as well.

”Is… is it good, Dr. Crane?” She asked in a shaky voice, standing two feet away from him, stretching her hands holding the mixture up to the light. Jonathan’s pupils widened slightly as arousal already started working in his body, adrenaline pumping in his veins. 

”Closer” He commanded quietly, watching her feet as she shifted towards the lamp hanging lowly from the ceiling. ”I said closer,” His voice became more harsh, more commanding the second time, startling her visibly. Y/n took a step, and as soon as she wanted to take the other one, her shoe caught on Crane’s foot which appeared out of nowhere on her path. 

A choked gasp left her mouth as she lost her balance, arms getting in the defensive position to minimise the damages in case of a fall. The little glass bottle fell out of her hand, hitting her professor in the shoulder before the content of it splashed on his neck and face, covering his skin in the weird fluid. 

As soon as it made contact, his body started tingling in an almost…pleasant way. Y/n’s body froze as Jonathan inhaled deeply, Adam's apple bobbing up and down visibly on his pale neck. 

Putting on his best acting skills, Crane’s face became red from the anger; despite the horrified look on her face, he fought against his amusement to keep the mask on. 

Huffing with anger he shook his head, trying to get as much fluid off of him as he could or rather trying to spread it better, moving frantically and suddenly. Appearing enraged, he slowly made his plan come true. Studying psychology for long years, he knew exactly what body language put on to be convincing enough. 

”Fuck!” He barked angrily, taking off the jacket with a huge stain on the shoulder. ”What the fuck did you do!” He yelled, turning to face her. His eyebrows furrowed at her frozen state, when she stood not moving, eyes teary and lips parted in shock. Crane couldn't help but notice how her hands trembled more.

Jonathan's anger turned into scolding as he continued to act mad, pretending to be absolutely furious with his poor tired student. He had to be completely convincing, for he wasn't really upset in the slightest.

"How could you be so careless?!" Jonathan asked, his voice filled with fake anger and disappointment  "Don't you know how dangerous that is?! Haven't I taught you anything at all?" he added, scoffing at her still shocked self. 

Jonathan could feel the strange liquid begin to seep down his skin, the sensation an eerie and disturbing one for him. His expression became neutral for a split second, before Y/N finally moved, getting his attention. 

”I-I’m… I'm sorry I… I don't know what happened, I-I… I didn't mean to…” She stuttered out, trying to explain herself and her clumsiness, completely unaware of the fact that she was only a puppet in his evil psychotic show. 

”It doesn't matter!” His voice boomed through her attempts of apologising properly. Y/n’s shoulders slumped, as she wanted to cover herself from shame, her body completely tense. 

Her heart was beating wildly, she could already feel the familiar tingling sensation caused by the negative emotions and the guilt, which was eating her. 

She was familiar with these emotions but still had difficulty mastering them, even though she had to...she didn’t want to make the situation worse with her still furious professor— risking that way to look even more pathetic as she fell into the vortex of stress that often ended in a painful and long panic attack.

Y/n wasn’t in the right situation or in the right place to give in to her fears and weakness, not even if the knot in her throat was making it pretty hard for her to breathe correctly. Focus she thought to herself, forcing her shiny eyes to snap back towards Jonathan’s face. Her nostrils slightly dilated and her jaw tightly clenched as if it would have helped her to let everything in and not show what she was actually feeling at that moment.

”I have a conference in…” He pulled his sleeve up revealing the expensive watch on his wrist, checking the time again. ”...an hour! Look what you did!” He pointed at the huge stain before scratching the itchy skin on the back of his neck. ”Fuck it starts working.” He breathed out heavily with a huff. 

At this point her face became teary, her breath getting heavier, her chest tight, and Jonathan couldn't be more happy from how well his plan was going. ”You are going to take me out of that state, and better do it fucking fast, unless you want me to talk to the principal about your lack of basic skills!” He spat out harshly, looking how wheels turned in her head before she gasped quietly at the realisation that… she didn't know exactly what the antidote was.. besides… sexually relieving the victim— since she based her whole experiment on Poison Ivy’s sex pollen. 

”Are you deaf?” He mocked, looking down at her with a stern facial expression, making Y/n finally snap out of her realisation; her body moving and turning back to the desk as she rummaged through the notes and components, trying to quickly find a solution as she read through her neat handwriting holding the papers with a shaky hand— her mind on the edge of panicking. 

Jonathan stood behind her, watching the desperation visible through her every move, he could clearly tell that her head was running miles. Suddenly his smirk started fading as the aphrodisiac fully penetrated his skin, getting to his nerves and beginning to work its magic. His pupils widened, icy blue irises almost invisible at this point. His breathing increased, skin started sweating more as his muscles clenched and relaxed alternately, causing him to lean back on the counter. 

Heavy sigh left his lips getting her attention, but she didn't dare to look at him for a longer moment. Up until he rolled his sleeves up, his veiny hand rubbed his arms, trying to relieve the stingy feeling all over his body before reaching down and rubbing up his crotch desperately, feeling the uncomfortable tension. Burning

Y/n’s eyes quickly fixed on her professor, studying his desperate state as she kept feeling guilty. Was it really her fault? She shouldn’t have worked on that project of hers in Dr. Crane’s lab and left her work-in-progress there at that hour, she should have brought it home or at least… paid more attention when her professor just tried to help her.

That’s what Jonathan wanted her to think.

The helpless expression on his face covered snugly the satisfaction in his icy, blue eyes. The poor girl, he thought, watching the worry and guilt in her gaze. He gulped loudly, panting dramatically as his pale and freckled skin flushed due to the effects of the strong aphrodisiac she….well, he spilled on himself.

A thing that he didn’t plan though, were the pretty strong and painfully annoying effects that Y/N included in the project, due to the limited knowledge about chemical compounds, not reaching the level of her brilliant professor.

Jonathan's body was on fire. All his senses seemed to heighten, and hot burning pierced his skin in places that he never felt before. 

Breathing deeply he tried to slow down his racing heart, muscle pounding so fast and hard that he would be worried if not the uncontrollable thoughts; his freckled, pale skin ached for a gentle or any touch. He didn’t really care, he just wanted… no— needed Y/n on him, all over him, doing unforgivable things to his needy body. 

His whole body felt tingly and numb at the same time, and he was struggling to keep his thoughts straight with all the rushing hormones— that’s when he started to move unconsciously, just when Y/n turned back towards the desk again, trying to ignore the state he was in, looking so… needy and so desperate. 

The poor student didn’t even have the time to register what was happening, she just felt a tight grip on her hips and in a couple of seconds she was pressed harshly, flat against the lab table— an almost animalistic panting against the back of her neck and Jonathan’s body lying on her, nearly crushing her ribcage on that wooden surface. Her breath knocked out at the sudden action.

“Fuck” Dr. Crane grunted, grounding his hips as his hands kneaded roughly on her breasts, since he cupped them before, managing to bend her down. He felt like an animal in heat at that moment, so desperate and so blind in front of the lust that was taking over his whole body.

His hips kept moving as if following a rhythm, his cock pressing against the front of his pants in a pleasant but still painful way— his hands still groping harshly Y/n’s round chest, pressing and pulling while also kneading with need and hidden satisfaction. They are as soft as they look Crane thought in his moment of pure desperation.

”Wh-what are you doing?” Y/n squealed, pinned to the desk with his weight. 

”Shhh.. I… I need it.” He moaned out, but slowly grinding on her ass wasn't enough. His angrily hard cock throbbed in his pants, relentlessly demanding immediate attention. He was getting frustrated with how little she was cooperating, and it felt like fire was blowing his veins. His skin was burning and itching as he whined lowly, dropping his head on her shoulder with a huff. 

”Touch me” He hissed out, pulling her up and turning around to face him. She remained pressed against him, but her hands were still, not moving or getting near his needy, aching body. He was losing his mind. ”F…fucking please” Jonathan cried out finally, when his cock started pulsing painfully in his briefs. 

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to keep her own lust and nervousness on a leash. 

Rubbing her thighs  together she hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice cracking in an almost pathetic way...if Jonathan wouldn’t have been in that situation with that mindset he would have probably mocked her “P-Pull it out, Prof-”. She stopped quickly, a new battle starting inside of her head, how was she supposed to call him? She couldn’t for sure refer to him with his qualification.

Dr. Crane had other intentions apparently, he didn’t let her think much about that…too eager to have her whole attention back on him and his now leaking cock. Standing proudly against his flat stomach was a thick, long member. The veins wrapped around it stick out even more than usually, as it throbbed impatiently. Cold air was enough to make him hypersensitive as he mewled, touching the tip and spreading precum on it. Red colour of his skin revealed how much he needed the release.

At the sight Y/n jumped slightly not expecting Jonathan to be so forward, just standing there… so close to her, holding his shaft as he moved closer to her in an attempt to probably seduce her and make her finally touch him like he had begged her for. The psychology professor managed to take another step before a loud slap echoed in the quiet room, his mind too fogged to realise immediately what she did but the stingy sensation on his cheek made it clear. He could have been mad but just the contact of her bare skin against his made him whine desperately, his eyes blow out in pure need and submission. He would have done anything….literally anything to finally have his release with her help.

Y/n's breathing had become more elaborate, her body was full of adrenalin at that moment which allowed her to act instinctively and impulsively, although it was better to work through the whole situation with a clear and rational mind.

Come on, the young student yelled in her head, gulping softly as she moved her gaze slowly back down to take a peek at her professor’s cock. Do it, just do it, she repeated, nodding slightly to herself before moving her tiny hand closer to the throbbing cock, gathering the courage to grab it, but before she'd manage to do so, Jonathan pushed his hips forward impatiently, forcing her hand in the worst way. 

Y/n looked up immediately, anger sizzling in her eyes at his unhinged behaviour. As soon as he tried to make her grab it again, her other hand made contact with his flushed cheek in a harsh slap. Crane’s lips parted in surprise, as he felt a drip of blood going down his chin from his lower lip.

”One more time, and I'll tie you up and leave you alone. All needy and crying” She warned with a scolding tone, Jonathan’s expression reminded her one of a kicked puppy; it was nearly distracting, his gaze so focused on her was hypnotic and the way his plumpy lips kept softly trembling was entertaining as he breathed deeply, almost like he was about to cry. 

A deep breath broke the silence that had been surrounding them after the slap, the young student nodded slightly before finally letting Jonathan rest his heavy member on her open hand. Her eyes focused on the task and on the cock in front of her, she could feel it twitch every time her acrylic nails brushed against the prominent veins.

Her breath was heavier, not like Crane’s was— he was panting like an animal in heath just craving..no, needing her touch. His icy eyes staring at her hand while tears started forming in them, he could feel his stomach tightener at every second that passed. He didn’t even dare to speak, afraid to scare her or just piss her off, making her slow movements come to a stop— he couldn’t let it happen, not now that her small feminine hand was finally reaching the angry red tip of his cock.

Y/n moved her wrist, gulping softly before finally wrapping her fingers around it trying to give it a testing pump staring with wide eyes how the foreskin followed her movement, exposing more the leaking  tip “Shit” Jonathan cursed in a hiss, letting out a choked sob before ordering her with a shaking voice “Spit on it, you little slut”. 

The poor man was feeling the effects of the aphrodisiac more and more, he could feel them crawl all over his body making it difficult for him to breath normally or think straight, a thin layer of sweat was already covering his flushed skin.

Her professor’s hand snatched hers, motiving it quickly closer to his handsome face as if he wanted to kiss it, ending up spitting on her palm catching completely off guard; her pretty face slowly twisted in a grimace of uncomfortable disgust.

After a couple of seconds passed… where she didn’t do nothing, Jonathan bad temper snapped again, his mean part coming out “Fuckin’ touch it already!” he screamed in her face, catching her off guard for the second time in a row, his hips moving forward as his hand held her smaller one wrapped back around his length. His hips established a rhythm to relieve his pain…his free hand flying to cup her breast after nearly ripping off the lab coat she had still tidily on. How long is it going to last?

Consequently Jonathan's outburst, Y/n allowed him to continue to seek the pleasure he so badly needed, an expression of disgust still present on her face. His panting was quite disturbing now, she could feel the warmth of it and of his whole body that clearly looked like it was on fire and it kind of worried her. All her fault, that’s all your fault, she kept repeating to herself as she tried to find a solution… a way to help the man that was standing in front of her, moaning like a pornstar just for her. 

“O-Okay, Dr. Crane I-I….” she started, her voice shaking softly as she tried to speak with him— but he wasn’t listening at all, too busy in the activity he was engaged with. Y/n’s heart pounded, the unusual and somehow odd situation causing adrenaline to rush through her veins. She was lost in how to properly handle the situation, but one glance at him was enough to decide. Anger and desperation was filling his icy gaze, eyes cloudy and focused on his cock as she stroked it. Annoyance appeared in her mind at how easily influenced she was for him, as she huffed with anger. 

You want me to touch you? I fucking will then, she thought, as her hand gripped his manhood harder, stroking it harsher as the other hand rested on his chest. 

Jonathan felt almost deaf, his heart beating so fast and hard that it could be heard from any part of his body…he was feeling like on a rollercoaster, adrenaline rushing and filling his slender self.

As soon as Y/n started to feel Jonathan’s grip on her hand become less tighter, freeing her caged hand, she removed it completely in a quick motion. Feeling it, Jonathan's head lolled back with a high pitched, desperate groan. A choked cry pushed past his lips at the lack of stimulation. He didn't expect her to do it, his lips parted as he tried to breathe but his lungs burned, just like his skin that started heating up and itching again. His legs started shaking as a couple tears streamed down his face, but Y/n wasn’t as fazed by his state anymore, and she just wiped her palm on his white shirt, not really caring that he had an important meeting in just… thirty minutes.

“Strip” the young woman ordered with a simple word, not adding anything else. Her expression was stern and kind of pissed, she was tired and this was taking too long for her. She was also ready to take any decision or precaution to be able to get over this.

“I said fucking strip, you brainless slut” the student repeated, raising her voice just like Jonathan had done earlier, screaming at him the respect that was pulling her back now completely gone. There was still nervousness in her body, she was shaking a bit because of the different emotions present. To her surprise Dr. Crane started to take off his expensive suit, replying to her stern tone and insult with a pathetic whine… she could have kicked him in the face at that moment and he would have just licked her sole, whimpering and shaking for her.

As Jonathan peeled all the fabric off his body, watching it drop on the floor, the cold air hit his overwarm body, his nipples erect just like his hair which were standing due to the shiver and the goosebumps, Y/n couldn’t stop watching him move like a puppet. 

Her hands moved on their own, resting on his warm, pale and freckled chest… caressing in slow motions his skin as her eyes moved slowly across his naked self— it felt nice, it relieved the burning and stingy sensation Jonathan kept feeling but it wasn’t enough. Just when he was about to say something, to plead, whine and whimper, she used all her strength to push him away from her.

His body stumbled, hitting the nearest object that was right behind him which happened to be a chair… a iron, cold tiny chair that made him hiss as soon his skin made contact with it completely. His hairy pale thighs spread open, twitching due to the coldness of the surface, just like his back that arched in such a pathetic way.

“Fucking told you that I would have tied you down, you wasted your second chance, Dr. Crane” Y/n warned him, murmuring mostly to herself as she started to tie down his limbs, making sure to make a tight knot so that he really couldn't move without her wanting him to.

His heart kept racing, his body was in such a state that it just kept leaning towards Y/n’s every time she moved slightly closer as she fixed the ropes.

The young woman took a step back, admiring silently the desperate and subby state Crane had fallen in, his mouth open as he panted like a wild animal, his body trembling softly as his cock kept twitching and aching for relief.

She took a step forward this time, Jonathan’s eyes fixed on her as his head remained hanging low, he couldn’t tell what she was doing by all that wiggling but he discovered soon since he found himself with her wet thong in his mouth, his spit wetting it even more. She was bare, she was finally bare under the skirt she had on, he thought… his body still and tensed, too afraid to even move a muscle.

Her hands rested on his shoulders, her smaller body towering over his sitting position. Her finger interwoven with his black locks, he could feel her acrylic nails massage teasingly his scalp— it was gentle and carrying.. before she got a better hold on his hair and pulled at them harshly.

“Don’t come too fast, because I won't stop until I finish, got it?” his favourite student warned as she carefully straddled him, her bare wet pussy now pressing against his throbbing leg.

Earning just a choked moan from Crane she started to grind slowly on it, pressing her body closer to his to find the right angle were her clit would have been touched correctly. Their eyes remained locked all the time, even if Jonathan kept occasionally rolling his eyes back because of the pleasure, his gathering spit slowly dripping down on his chest. 

Condoms, Y/n thought quickly, her eyes growing wide as her breath increased “Do you have a condom?” she asked, knowing well that he couldn’t really reply to her with the cloth stuck in his mouth— his eyes just moved, following her movements as she decided to turn around, now her round cheeks gifted him with some relief as she grabbed his pants and started searching for anything there. Condoms, pills, some kind of protection. Finding just a tiny bottle of lube with his initials on it. 

“Oh, you pervert. Bet you use it to jerk yourself of” she mocked, moving back in the straddling position, her hands following the form of his nose, down to his plumpy lips “Guess no relief then, huh” she murmured, watching him carefully. She sure found Dr. Crane attractive and she would have lied if she said that she never had impure thoughts on him or just a need to try and feel how his lips tasted. She could now.

Her eyes remained on his open lips for a couple of seconds before she leaned in, removing harshly her thong from his mouth, earning a meowing sound from Crane, which died down as soon as her lips pressed against his. 

Her tongue entered his mouth easily, making them entwine into a deep and sensual dance, exploring each other's mouths and teasing with delight. Their bodies were more pressed up against each other, her soft hands remained wrapped around his neck to feel his Adam apple bobbing as he gulped.

In that moment of pure passion, something fell from the pocket of her blouse, dropping right on Jonathan’s lower stomach “Guess you have luck by your side today, Professor” Y/n praised as soon as she broke the kiss, watching their split still link them in a hot and sensual way. She moved her hands from his neck and grabbed the condom she had in her pocket without knowing…using her teeth to slowly open it while she grinded her hips against his.

The thong went back in Dr. Crane’s mouth as she stood back up to roll carefully the condom on his thick, long length, watching it wrap perfectly around his size “There we go” she whispered, using the lube she had found to prepare herself before finally sink down in a quick motion on his cock, her tight warm pussy clenching around him like a tight fit. Crane's head dropped down with a hiss at the tight squeeze, just like his jaw, the sensation that came so quick didn't let him time even try and control his imminent first orgasm. It was cruel, mean but Y/n was enjoying every part of it. 

She didn't know how Jonathan managed to not shoot his load, filling up the condom, and signing that way the ending of that all. But he managed, so Y/n started to roll her hips slowly before increasing the speed to hear the pathetic sounds coming out of Crane's bruised mouth. He was moaning with each move, whining whenever she'd squeeze him too hard, or sink her nails in his skin.

She was bouncing, riding him as if he was a wild horse, her thighs pressed against each of his thighs, holding him down while she searched her own peak… not really carrying anymore of Jonathan's state.

”I honestly didn’t expect you to be that big” His student praised with a veiled insult, hissing into his ear. He wasn't even able to respond as the next deep stroke pushed him over the edge, as he cried out pulsing between her velvet-like walls. His hands thrashed, tied up, as the need to grab her hips while he'd fill the condom up with his hot cum. Y/n didn't care, and she kept moving over and over, chasing her own high with head tilted back as the pleasure fully consumed her mind and body. She wasn't even aware of the pace as she kept milking him despite his whiny cries, moving violently on his hypersensitive cock. 

”F-fuck” He spat out, his voice still muffled, saliva dripping down his chin when his eyes rolled into the back of his head. More curses followed after the first that slipped from his lips, his body shaking uncontrollably as he felt the pleasure bult itself in his lower stomach. It was driving violently and forcefully like a train, about to go off the rails and hit him with all his force. The condom being filled for the second time by his seed, she kept going just like his load that kept being spilled without a stop. The amount of cum he could pump just minutes apart would usually impress her, if she wasn't so long gone in the maddening pleasure that his thick girth provided, stretching her out and pushing his way to her g spot with each thrust. 

The pleasure he was giving her was making her slowly reach her own climax, turning her head in a foggy and drunk state of mind when she squeezed her eyes shut, as her cunt clenched down on his member, making it impossible to thrust despite the overflowing fluids splashing between them as she reached her peak, shaking and crying out as her muscles gone fully numb for a moment from the powerful orgasm that made her nearly squirt. 

Only then did she realise that Crane was cumming as well, again, and she wouldn't care a bit, if it wasn't for the… thick, sticky fluid dripping down her thigh. Y/n’s eyes widened at the sensation, and she jumped off of him faster than she would ever anticipate, earning a loud strucked whimper from her professor. 

“Look at what you did!” she yelled, a bit panicked from the situation she was in, his seed still dripping down her thighs even when she tried to push it out. Staring at his engorged cock, that was still twitching. Red and wet, laying on his thigh even though it was still very much hard. The condom that she previously put on him, now with a giant hole, halfway down his dick.

The role switched, now Crane was the one with tearful eyes and she was the one furious with him. What was she supposed to do? She thought to herself, cleaning her dripping pussy with the nearest cloth before meeting Jonathan’s icy eyes. He caused it… so it was only fair that he found a solution to that, just like she did earlier for her mistake. 

After a deep breath the student moved closer to her professor, freeing him from his restrictions which made his pale freckled skin a bit sore and bruised, just before taking a step back “You need to find a solution for the mess yo—” she stopped mid sentence with a gasp, and his big slender hands grabbed her roughly, pushing her towards the white table. 

He didn't hesitate, and his moves weren't thoroughly measured or rational, like his usual way to think and act. He was an.. animal with a fire in his baby blue eyes, as he smashed her down onto the desk, dropping test tubes and vials onto the ground. 

Bent in half, Y/n couldn't do much besides reaching back to push him away in desperation, but it didn't help much as he twisted her arm, pushing it down while kicking her legs open, relentless in his motives.

”Shut up” He hissed out while reaching down to her heat, pushing his two fingers in as he checked how wet she was. Feeling his own cum leaking out of her, he grinned in the mischievous way, feeling how his veins were still on fire. 

Pushing her head down into the desk, he kept her quiet while his big hand tangled into her soft hair. Without any further notice, he lined up the pulsing tip of his hard cock with her tight pussy, groaning loudly at the choked gasp that pushed past her lips as he filled her up. 

”N-no!” She squealed while wiggling her hips to the side, struggling but still attempting to get away from him. ”I’m not on the pill!” 

Crane's hand fell near her face, patting it mockingly before he shoved two fingers into her mouth, silencing her successfully. 

”Shhhhh” He cooed with a grin, before he snapped his hips forwards making her cry out with him as his fat cock hit her cervix suddenly. She stopped moving as soon as the pain set in, and seeing it, Crane repeated his move laughing out when she squealed. The aphrodisiac was slowly wearing out, and he was more than happy to give her a lesson for teasing him.

“Fuckin’ take it” Jonathan murmured breathless, pressing his body against her back to keep her still while thrusting again before shooting more inside of her cunt, still moving as he groaned, biting her shoulder as he pumped some more of his semen into her. 

Her body moved almost automatically as she hit his ribs with her elbow, catching him off guard and that way free herself a bit… enough that she could turn around to face him fully, her hand flying towards his face, slapping him across the face with the back of her hand. It didn’t really go like she was expecting, Jonathan just answered with a lustful moan and his hand moved roughly to her neck, taking a hold of it. Just resting at the beginning, as his pace picked up on a speed, his long fingers wrapped around her slim throat, squeezing it as he cut off the airflow while his hips slammed wildly against hers, leaving red marks. Her own hands kept fighting him as best she could, till the pace increased, allowing her just to scratch, claw and dig her fingernails in his pale skin, her eyes rolling back as his fat cock kept abusing her sweet spots without any kind of mercy. 

They both were panting, their heartbeat beating like crazy in their chests and they both could hear it since Crane leaned closer, resting his sticky sweaty forehead against hers, breathing with his mouth against her lips— leaning roughly down a couple of seconds later to claim a feverish kiss. He stole Y/n’s much needed air and made her squirm more, even though she reciprocated the kiss, biting down harshly on his bottom lip drawing blood from it, which wet her own lips before dropping a bit on her flushed face as soon as Jonathan leaned back with a desperate whimper of pure, raw lust.

”Going to… to cum” He breathed out, his tone was back to the low one, filled with authority and dominance almost the same as the one he used during his lectures. If she could, she'd roll her eyes at the way he was back to being a cocky, commanding bastard... if it wasn't for the massive cock splitting her nearly in half. Her right hand moved away from him, diving down where they were connected to gather some of their arousal and rub her clit in quick motion, increasing the speed just in time. Her pussy clenched around his cock as her body spasmed softly because of the orgasm that just hit her whole body, she could feel Jonathan’s seminal fluid spill out of her cunt and slowly down on her ass and lab table.

It all stilled, their breathing was the only noise in that empty room “Y-Yo…Your conference, Dr. C-Crane” she reminded him breathless as she held back loud sobs caused by the pleasure and all the emotions that filled her smaller body.

Breathing deeply, he leaned back while running a hand through his hair as he chuckled. 

”Right. The Conference.”

Taglist:

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

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

[cillianhead]

★ MASTERLIST ★

Hey this is the masterlist with all the fics i've written so far (and will be updated every time i upload a new fic)

Cillian Murphy x Reader:

Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed (fluff)

Three And A Half Months (smut)

Illicit Affairs (smut, dad's best friend!Cillian)

In Your Car, I'm A Star (smut)

Wind In My Hair, I Was There (angst + smut)

Lazy Sundays (smut)

A New Pair of Glasses (smut) (part one)

Red Eyes (smut) (part two)

Strawberry Syrup (smut)

Jonathan Crane x Reader:

Sitting Pretty (smut)

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (fluff + angst + comfort)

Are You Afraid of The Dark? (smut)

Neil Lewis x Reader:

Pussy-Whipped (smut)

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive (smut + angst)

Slut (smut)

Thomas Shelby x Reader:

Show Me How Much You Need Me (smut)

Ambrosia (smut)

Look What You Made Me Do (smut)

Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:

Scream For Me (smut)

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Your Dog (smut)

Oppenheimer x Reader

- Oppie is a sub? (smut)

don't see something you think should be there? send me requests and i'll write em <3

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #a quiet place II #a quiet place 2 #emmett a quiet place #emmett #emmett x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #batman #batman begins #watching the detectives #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #oppenheimer #oppenheimer smut