#dark knight rises

[fear-is-truth]

the dark knight has been shouldering gotham’s weight for too long. tonight, he might just need someone else ease the burden. // wc : 773

raindrops traced uneven paths down the floor-to-ceiling windows of the wayne mansion, the soft patter filling the otherwise tranquil room. fire crackled low in the hearth, its amber flickers like demonic fingers, clawing and reaching, scraping at the shadows that clung to the vaulted ceilings. BRUCE WAYNE sat on the edge of the leather couch, shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie discarded carelessly on the coffee table. there was a dull ache in his shoulders—a reminder of the endless strain he subjected himself to. but tonight, there was nothing demanding his attention. no calls to answer, no suits to don, no crises waiting in the alleyways of gotham. for once, quietness held.

bruce intended to keep it that way.

his gaze followed you as you entered the room, his thoughts unspooling before he could stop them. the life he’d constructed, brick by brick, with walls of steel and grief meant to keep others out. yet somehow, you’d slipped through. the way you fit into his life, seamlessly yet entirely your own, never ceased to disarm him. you were so different from everything he was—light where he was shadow, warmth where he was cold.

somehow, you belonged here. with him.

you set the tray down on the coffee table, the clink of ceramic pulling him from his thoughts. you started to sit on the armrest, but he caught your hand, long fingers curling around your wrist. “come here,” he said, tugging you toward him. your brows lifted slightly, but you didn’t resist as he guided you until you were settled in his lap, facing him, your knees bracketing his hips. one of his hands resting on your waist, the other trailing up your arm idly.

“what was that for?” you tilted your head with a curious smile, your hands instinctively settling on his shoulders. bruce didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on your face as his mind scrambled for the right word to capture the sight before him. eloquent, articulate bruce wayne, who always seemed to find the perfect phrase, drew a perfect blank. ethereal was the closest candidate, but even that felt inadequate. the firelight danced across your features, softening the curve of your lips and the elegant slope of your nose. for a fleeting moment, he felt utterly unmoored.

“you’re so tense,” you murmured, breaking the quiet as your fingers pressed into the tight muscles along his shoulders, working with a steady rhythm. bruce allowed his head to tilt back slightly, eyelids fluttering shut as he surrendered to your touch. your fingertips dug into the knots, slowly unraveling the tension that had built up over days, coaxing a deep exhale from his chest. the pressure was firm but gentle, easing away the stiffness in his muscles. as you continued, bruce’s thoughts drifted, and this time, he made no effort to reign them in.

the sound came first—a sharp, ominous crack. bruce stood on an endless pane of dark glass, its surface trembling under pressure. fractures raced outward like veins, jagged and merciless, the splintering sound echoing like gunfire. beneath his feet was nothing but darkness, a bottomless void that yawned wide, waiting to swallow him whole.

shit, he’s going to fall.

and then, your touch—fingers gentle but firm against his skin—and the cracks stilled as though startled into submission, the jagged edges softening under the warmth of your palms. the glass rippled, smooth and fluid like water, its sharpness dissolving as if it had never been.

he swallowed back a groan, adam’s apple bobbing as his fingers tightened briefly on your hip. the reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “relax,” you teased, your voice a lilting chirp of amusement. his lips twitched in response, though his grip on you remained firm. “you make that sound easy,” bruce countered gruffly, the strain in his voice a contraction to his words. your hands slowed, one drifting to rest over his chest, where you could feel the steady thrum beneath your palm. leaning forward, warm breath skimmed his jaw, impossibly close yet maddeningly restrained.

“better?” you asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes searching.

“better,” he replied, though the word couldn’t begin to articulate even a fraction of what he felt.

[that-one-gothic-murder-of-crows]

Who's gonna help me usher in "The Dark Knight Rises" plot line in 2025?

((Not my art, credit to the artist))

[randomcreator-09]

It's Cuffing Season (Jonathan Crane x Barista!Reader)

(Gif ain't mine > @breakfastonuranus)

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>>MINORS DNI<<<

✨NSFW [Stockholm Syndrome (Pretty self-explanatory), Abduction, Chocking, Bondage (cuffing), Oral (M!Rec), DubCon (cnc maybe?), PnV (Wrap it before you Tap it), Breeding kink, Candle Play, Overstimulation, and some other things that I may have forgotten], He fell in love with you but you didn't love him (as much) back so he had to do what any villain would do ^^, Crane's top but a softy his little princess, Crane just loves us~, Yes a lil Fluff and a bit of angst :3, also maybe mention of death (Parents)✨

🐧I'm learning my vocabs on NSFW content XD look how I'm adding up every smut warnings I know XD and it's actually not there XD. Please tell me if those are actually in the story damn :"D. Anyways this fic is for that request made, I hope this satisfies your need :3 cuz it did mine XD Although the phasing might be fast somehow... I tried putting all my ideas in one place heh, I hope I wrote it well :"D also the song comes in my mind as I wrote this is the one above... It's cuffing season~🐧

5K Words (I tried shortening it really... this is the best I could do ack)

Now... enjoy you mentally ill people (like me XD)

KINDLY REBLOG TO REACH MORE PEEPS ^^ (also heart it if you love it ^^ tnx)

-----

"Jonathan Crane!" you screamed to the top of your lungs as you read the order name on the cup. Looking around to see if anyone would answer to that name, and there he came.

A man in his well-tailored black suit, accompanied by his brown vest and black tie. A divine for any lady to look at, but for you it was the last thing you found interesting about. You didn't have time to swoon over men right now. Tuition at your college was more than the budget your parents left you before passing and you had to work your ass off to get through. Plus this business was not running well (your parent's business) so you had to do what had to be done, work to the bones.

"Thanks, Miss?" he muttered as he grabbed his drink from the counter and looked you straight in the eye. He had ocean blue eyes that were accessorized with his rectangle cut glasses which made him look more heavenly. His lips pursed and cheeks well contoured, anyone could really just fall in love with this man with one look, you thought, but not you.

You were making the next order as you spoke, "Y/N" you said without thinking of anything, flashing him a quick smile before returning to getting busy.

He smiled back, but you didn't see that as you busied yourself. He nodded before leaving the store. It was sunny that day, a busy day in Gotham City. People out and about, havoc on the neighboring store and policemen drinking their coffee in your store, this was Gotham City, bow.

-----(Jonathan Crane POV)

As Jonathan walked through the streets of Gotham City, he smirked. 'Y/N's hands were on this cup' he thought smiling to himself, as he sipped through the lid. It has been long since he was obsessed with something, not to mention someone other than Batman.

He first saw you on the day havoc happened at your store, a burglary. He was in line to order his usual coffee, clearly pissed at how the line was moving slowly when three masked men came in pointing guns at your employee. It was his first time seeing you then, the owner of the café.

You came out with a nonchalant look as you came from the back kitchen and pointed a loaded shotgun at the masked men. "Out" was the only thing you said as the masked men went running (unfortunately their guns were empty and were just actually toys). He was amused how you knew their guns were empty, even then, you exuded confidence in what you did that day, something Crane found fascinating.

From then on he went to the café from day to day (if he had the time even hour by hour). When you weren't there he would just walk away with nothing in hand, but when you were, he'd order everything on the menu to keep you standing there picking his order from the glassed window, to see your cleavage creeping out your tight V-neck shirt, as his pants would feel tight with his bulge poking it. He really should do something about his obsession with you he thought.

And think he did. He has planned to abduct you and manage your dead parent's business while you were gone, so you'd call him a 'good boy' after manipulating your mind to love him. He planned on paying for your tuition after it too! He has spoken to your school's board to give you a scholarship already (to which you declined because the head of your college was known to give scholarships to people he'd like to fuck). He had a room for you in his apartment already, complete with all the clothes you have in your own small apartment (with extra touches of clothes he likes to see you in... such as expensive lingerie and such).

'Just you wait my love' he thought as he kept the empty cup to his stash of cups with your handwriting on his office desk drawer. 'you will be mine soon', as he closes the drawer shut with a bright smile.

-----(Your POV)

You breath was a mess, your memory a foggy one, as your vision went on and off.

You only remembered the dark night enveloping the streets. As you closed the shop early today (because one of your employees had midterm examinations and you had too), you were out at the back of the shop throwing the heavy bag of trash to the bin when your sight turned dark.

In panic, you tried to fight the four arms that kept you from removing the bag over your head to no avail. Screaming was useless in Gotham, so you didn't try to do so. They guided you up in a spaced van and tied your hand back, they were being rather careful with you, you thought. Like a porcelain from china being transported to the England museum.

Before you know it you were dead asleep, as you inhaled funny smelling air (sleeping gas you presumed).

Minutes passed by as your vision went on again. Seeing that handsome blue-eyed man smiling at the sight of you, and your out again.

-----(Jonathan Crane's POV)

'She's here!' Jonathan's mind was in haywire. He was excited as he saw you being ushered in his apartment by two of his men. However his smile faltered as he sees your wrist red from the rope tied around it.

"Fuck! I told you to be careful with her! You fucking dimwits!" he screamed as he trashed around his living room, throwing anything he saw to his men. "Sorry, Sir Crane, she was a feisty one you see-" he shot the man, he had no time for explanations. "Get out of my sight" he glared at the other who ran out.

Jonathan kneeled down to untie you and remove the black bag over your head. Oh, how majestic you looked sleeping, he could stare at you forever, even maybe when the two of you are old, he smiled at that.

"Welcome Home, Y/N" as he kissed your forehead before carrying you princess-style to your new room.

-----(Your POV)

As you blinked your eyes, adjusting to the light of the room. You finally see the room you were in, it was not your room. Panic consumes you as you realize there were shackles on your wrist, chained to the bed.

You couldn't possibly scream now, since you didn't scream earlier where it could have been evident. You just observed the room, looking for something to get yourself free. The room was in your favourite colour, shockingly it made you more at ease than panic. Some of your missing favorite clothes were on the open closet as well, with boxes of maybe new clothes. Pair of shoes and sandals that screamed 'expensive', you thought of the possibility that maybe a girl abducted you, but some of them were visibly your size.

Before you could find a way to escape the door creeks open. You close your eyes to pretend to be sleeping, but the person to open it doesn't seem to buy it.

"Oh Darling, I mean no harm," his deep voice echoes the room. You closely open your eyes to see the same man that goes to your cafe shop and only ever smiles at you.

"You!" exclaiming as you squirm through the chain to fight him. He rushes to you as he places a tray of food on the floor. "Darling, Darling Angel calm down my Love. I am here to protect you from this dangerous world, I am your only hope in this dark world. By the time everything is in havoc, you are safe here." as he tries to sooth you, patting your head as he sat beside your bedside.

"Fuck You, Jonathan!" you hiss at him, remembering his name as he was always in your cafe, in which he chuckles. "I believe that's not how you thank your saviour love," his voice in a darker tone than earlier as he stands up and picks up the tray of food, placing it on your lap. "Now, I will remove the cuffs on your wrist and you eat peacefully without fighting your savior or..." he pauses as his fingers tickle your wrist and moving slowly to grip on your neck ever so softly "... We do it the hard way and I might punish you, which, believe me, you might even enjoy, Y/N" as he smirks at you.

It took all in you to not tear up then. You prayed to God that this was just a sick dream and that you fainted from overworking, but it wasn't. As you feel his hands tighten their grip making you look at him, you suddenly drown in his ocean-blue eyes. If you weren't a busy woman and had time to date you'd probably dated him before, but this was sick, something you never thought a man with such a political figure like him would do.

Kicking the tray of food to the floor, you squirmed again, the cuffs tightening with your every move. Swearing to his face that you will never cooperate with him and he can kiss your ass. He laughs at that, he stands up after releasing your neck as you gasp for air. He then cleans up your mess and closes the door with a rather loud bang. As you cried in the room, waiting for the inevitable 'punishment'.

Hours has passed and the room turned dark along with the night creeping in the room. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched as the sound of footsteps filled the room, heavier this time. Jonathan Crane appeared once more, but now the light was dimmer, casting flickering shadows across his face. In his hand, a single candle burned, the flame dancing in the darkness.

"You seem to have a lot of fight in you," he murmured, setting the candle on a nearby table. "But I wonder..." He trailed off, his voice low and taunting as he approached the bed, pulling a small chair closer to where you lay cuffed. "How long will that fire last?"

He dragged the chair, its legs scraping against the floor, and sat down. His eyes gleamed with a sick curiosity, studying your every move, every breath. His fingers hovered over the flame, feeling its heat before he slowly turned his gaze back to you.

"You know, fear has many faces," he whispered. His hand, now inches from your skin, tilted the candle slightly. A bead of hot wax dripped, falling closer... closer...

"Please..." You whispered staring at the falling bead of wax rolling down the candle.

The first drop landed just above your stomach, the sting sharp but fleeting. You flinched, a hiss escaping your lips. Jonathan smirked, leaning forward. "Fear, pain... they blend together. And soon, you'll understand just how much I can make you feel."

The next drop fell, then another, each landing with precision, calculated to push you further without overwhelming you. Every slight movement you made only caused the shackles to tighten, reminding you of your helplessness.

"You will cooperate," he whispered darkly, "whether you like it or not."

The steady drip of hot wax continued, each drop sending a fresh wave of stinging heat across your skin. You couldn’t help it—you began to squirm, the restraints digging deeper into your wrists as you tried to twist away. Your heart raced, fear coursing through every vein.

“P-please,” you gasped, your voice shaking as you felt the heat of the wax inching closer to your chest. “Stop, I—I can’t take it.”

Jonathan’s eyes flickered with amusement, his lips curling into a smile that sent chills down your spine. He tilted the candle just enough to let a few more drops fall, ignoring your pleas. "Begging already?" he teased, the sound of his laughter dark and unsettling.

You squirmed harder, desperate to escape the pain, but there was nowhere to go. The shackles held you in place, trapping you in his game. "Jonathan, please!" you cried out, your voice breaking. "Stop, I’ll do whatever you want, just—please!"

He stood up then, towering over you, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy. "Do you really think begging will change anything?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “This is only the beginning.”

He chuckled, low and menacing, as he straightened, letting another drop fall from the candle with eerie precision. “I want you to remember this moment. Every time you think of resisting me... every time you think you have any control.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as the heat burned into your skin again. His laugh echoed in your ears, cruel and unrelenting, as if your suffering was nothing more than a twisted form of entertainment for him.

"You’ll break," he said, his voice eerily calm. "And when you do... you’ll beg me to continue."

Your body trembled under the growing layer of hardened wax, the pain numbing into a dull throb as you finally broke down, tears slipping down your cheeks. Sobs wracked your chest, your will shattered as you lay helpless beneath him, the hot wax pooling in small rivers over your skin, solidifying into painful reminders of his control.

Jonathan finally paused, watching the tears fall with a look of satisfaction in his cold eyes. He placed the candle back on the table, its flame still flickering faintly. His gaze drifted down your body, where the wax now covered your skin in thick patches. He licked his lips, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension.

Your eyes flickered downwards, catching the unmistakable bulge in his pants. The air shifted, heavier now, as he undid his belt with a slow, deliberate movement, the metal buckle clinking softly in the oppressive quiet.

His voice was low and dangerous as he looked down at you. "You've been such a defiant girl, Y/N," he said, his tone almost casual. "Now… you’re going to make it up to me."

He tugged down his pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood there, commanding and unyielding. "I think you know what comes next," he murmured, stepping closer, your eyes never leaving his as you tried to keep it there. "And listen very carefully—if I feel your teeth, you'll wish I had only used wax." you gritted your teeth as he aligns his length to your lips, making you look at his pink veiny cock.

He leaned in, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force you to meet his gaze. His grip was firm, but the smirk on his face was even crueler. "Now," he ordered, his voice deepening with lust. "Take me. And don't make me regret giving you this chance."

As you slowly opened your mouth to accommodate his grit. He slowly moved in your mouth. Soliciting a quiet moan out his lips as he slowly thrusts in and out your mouth, hands still tangled on your hair. "Good... Good girl," he hissed as his head bobs back from pleasure.

Tears ran down your cheeks as your throat chokes on the tip of his cock. Shackles still on your wrist as he slowly picks up his phase, making you squirm again, moaning at how his restless speed in your mouth made you feel soaking wet down below, bucking your knees together to create friction.

His speed was ethereal now, you hesitated, your throat tightening as you leaned forward, but Jonathan’s grip on your hair tightened, his warning clear in his eyes. You started, gagging slightly as he pushed you to take him deeper, but there was no room for hesitation. The pressure built, and just as you choked, he pulled back slightly, his hand flashing across your face with a sharp slap.

"Don’t stop now," he growled, dragging you back roughly. The force left no room for escape as he pushed you to take him fully, his breath quickening, his control slipping as you obeyed, doing your best to keep up. His pace quickened until the tension broke, and you felt him reach his climax.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Take it! Take it, love!" Jonathan groaned, his body shuddering with release as he rutted into your mouth, the taste of him thick on your tongue. He held you there for a moment longer before finally pulling away, leaving you gasping for air, your throat raw and your body trembling.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, Jonathan's hands moved to the cuffs, undoing them with a gentleness that sharply contrasted the earlier brutality. As the restraints fell away, your sore wrists ached from the pressure, but you barely registered the pain.

“Shhh, it’s alright now,” he murmured softly, easing your arms down to your sides as you panted weakly, exhaustion washing over you. He wiped the sweat and wax from your skin with a damp cloth, moving with surprising care as he cleaned away the hardened remnants from your body. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he wiped the corners of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your lips.

“You did so well,” he whispered, his voice now gentle, devoid of the harsh edge it had held moments before. “You’re perfect.” His words were soft, almost affectionate, as he covered you with a warm blanket, tucking it around your body as if wrapping you in a cocoon of safety. "My fucking perfect angel." as he kissed your forehead.

As your eyes fluttered closed, too tired to fight sleep, Jonathan leaned down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Rest now. You're mine, and I’ll take care of you," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly until you finally drifted off into unconsciousness.

-----(Months after abduction, Batman is dead)

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself as you gazed out the window, your reflection staring back at you. Months ago, you had cried endlessly, resisting every touch and command Jonathan gave. Now, those tears seemed so distant, almost laughable. The ‘punishments�� he promised had turned into something you craved—each session pushing you to new heights of pleasure. And afterward, the aftercare was so tender, so sweet, you had never felt so wanted. So cared for.

He had taken over everything: your safety, your business, and even your education. Your café ran smoothly under his careful management, leaving you to focus on finances from the comfort of his condo. The outside world? It felt foreign now, just a backdrop beyond the glass. Here, with him, was all you needed.

The door clicked open, and you immediately recognized the soft footsteps crossing the threshold. You didn’t turn around, but you could feel his presence before he even touched you. Jonathan was back.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you against him. “How was your day?” he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You leaned back into his chest, feeling the weight of the day fade away as you melted into his embrace.

“Hard,” you groaned, thinking about the lessons. The professors he hired for you weren’t easy, and today had been especially draining. “College was hard... why do they make it so difficult?” (The professors came to the apartment, Jonathan doesn't want his princess to walk or drain herself to go out).

Jonathan chuckled softly, his hands trailing up and down your waist and hips in slow, soothing movements. "Difficult?" he whispered, pulling your head back gently so that your lips were inches from his. "I’ll have to deal with that professor, then... make sure they know better than to push you too hard."

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a kiss, his grip firm as he held you in place. The tension melted from your body as you sank into him, the world outside completely forgotten. The kiss was slow but possessive, his lips claiming yours with an undeniable hunger that left you breathless.

When he finally pulled away, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice was a low, commanding murmur. “Let’s go upstairs.”

You nodded, your body already responding to his words, anticipation building as he guided you up the stairs to the room, knowing exactly what was coming next.

As you reached the top of the stairs, Jonathan didn’t lead you toward his room. Instead, he pulled you toward yours. The familiar space, the one place that was entirely yours within his domain, now felt smaller with him so close. The moment you entered, he pressed you firmly against the wall, his body pinning yours in a way that made your breath hitch.

His lips captured yours again, more intense this time, his hand snaking around your waist as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the controlled desire in the way he held you, as though he was fighting to maintain his composure. When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes darkened as they roamed over you, a quiet hunger simmering beneath the surface.

With deliberate slowness, Jonathan reached for the silky coat draped over your body, sliding it off your shoulders with one fluid motion. The fabric fell to the floor, pooling around your feet, leaving you standing there in the black lingerie you knew he adored. His breath hitched, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in the sight before him.

The lingerie clung to your curves, the sheer black fabric leaving little to the imagination. Intricate lace patterns adorned the cups, framing your chest in a way that was both delicate and provocative. Thin straps crisscrossed over your torso, highlighting your waist, while the sheer fabric cascaded down, barely covering the tops of your thighs. The black lace was cut in such a way that it hinted at more, teasing him, daring him to explore further.

Jonathan’s breathing became shallow, his eyes locked onto you as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. "You really do know how to get under my skin," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he stepped closer, his hands tracing the outline of the lace. “You wore this... just for me?”

You nodded slightly, your skin tingling under his touch. His fingers trailed along the delicate fabric, his restraint faltering as he admired every inch of you. "Good girl," he whispered, the praise low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Jonathan leaned in again, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your heart race. This kiss was different—fiercer, more demanding—as he poured all his desire into it. You melted against him, feeling the weight of his body against yours.

In one swift motion, he removed his vest and necktie, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. The smooth fabric of his shirt clung to his form as he slipped it off, revealing the taut lines of his chest and arms. Your breath caught at the sight, his body a perfect blend of strength and control.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he took your wrists, binding them together behind your back with his necktie. The gesture was possessive, a reminder that you were his, and the thrill of being restrained sent a rush of excitement through you.

With a gentle push, Jonathan guided you back toward the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The moment your back hit the mattress, he hovered above you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, trailing up to your neck, where he nibbled lightly, teasingly, as if savoring every moment.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, each word laced with fervent desire. He continued kissing his way back to your lips, his voice low and filled with promise. “I could breed you right now, make you mine in every way.”

His lips found yours again, deeper and more passionate, as he whispered more pleasurable words that made your skin tingle and your body ache for him. “You were made for this,” he murmured between kisses, his hands exploring the curve of your waist, igniting a fire within you that was impossible to ignore.

As Jonathan continued to kiss you, his hands roaming your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your knees began to buckle, the sensations overwhelming as you squirmed beneath him, searching for more friction, more connection. Each subtle movement sent sparks coursing through your veins, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

Jonathan noticed immediately, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He pulled back slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement and desire. "What do you want, love?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, relishing the power he held over you.

You bit your lip, your breath coming in quick gasps as you looked up at him, eyes filled with need. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with urgency. “I want you... I need you to take me.”

His smirk widened, satisfaction radiating from him at your plea. “Is that what you really want?” he taunted, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. “To feel me inside you?”

“Yes! Please, Jonathan,” you begged, the desperation in your voice making it clear just how much you craved him. You felt vulnerable, yet utterly alive, and the anticipation sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips again, the kiss a mixture of passion and possession. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

With a low, sultry laugh, Jonathan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. You watched, breathless, as he pulled his belt free, the leather falling to the floor with a soft thud. Next, he unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down his hips until they pooled at his ankles, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him as he locked his eyes onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, the air thick with anticipation. “Now, tell me again,” he said, his voice a deep growl, “What do you want?”

Your heart raced, the need for him consuming your thoughts. “I want you, Jonathan,” you replied, your voice a soft plea. “I need you to take me, to claim me as yours.”

"Fuck," he says with a low growl, Jonathan removed his boxers, exposing himself fully as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. As he aligned himself with your entrance, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “You were just made for this, weren’t you, love?”

Without warning, he pushed into you hard, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure as he bottomed out. You felt him stretching you, the sensation igniting a fire within you.

“Jonathan,” you moaned, your body arching to meet him as he began to move, he placed his arms behind your back as he thrusts deliberately and powerful. The world around you faded away, leaving only the rhythm of his body against yours and the electric connection between you.

His thrusts became faster, harder, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel your climax building, as his thumb drew circles on you clit, the tension coiling tighter with each movement. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You feel so good around me.”

As you neared the edge, he leaned down, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans as you spiraled into your first climax. Your body quaked, waves of ecstasy washing over you as he continued to thrust, riding the waves of your pleasure.

“Look at you,” he growled, watching your face with a predatory gaze. “So beautiful when you come apart for me. I want to see you do it again.”

The words sent another shock of pleasure through you, and you felt yourself approaching another orgasm. Jonathan picked up his pace, his hips driving into you relentlessly, urging you closer and closer. “Come for me again,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to feel you clench around me.”

With a final thrust, you tumbled over the edge again, your body quaking as your second climax took you by storm. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and desperation, and Jonathan’s grip on your hips tightened as he surged deeper.

“Fuck, take it!” he groaned, his own climax building as he thrust into you one last time. “Take my fucking seed, princess. Be filled with my seed and carry my child, angel.”

As he released himself deep inside you, you felt the warmth spreading, a final wave of bliss washing over you. Screaming as the world blurred at the edges, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment of connection, pleasure, and possessiveness.

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, Jonathan huffed and puffed, catching his breath. He looked down at you, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “You’re absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice low and warm. “The way that lingerie hugs your body, it was made for me. Your breasts bounce just right for me to enjoy.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your skin as he pressed gentle kisses to your breasts, savoring the way they felt beneath his mouth. Each kiss sent a thrill through you, and your breath hitched, the sensation making your heart race. You loved being worshipped like this, the feeling of his admiration washing over you, igniting a fire of desire deep within.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with reverence. He pulled back slightly to admire the way the lingerie framed your figure before carefully removing himself from you. You felt a rush of emptiness at his absence, but he quickly set to work, cleaning you off with gentle hands, his touch almost reverent.

After making sure you were taken care of, he leaned down again to press a soft kiss to your lips, lingering just a moment longer. “Such a good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, his tone affectionate and possessive. He reached behind you, deftly untying the necktie that had bound your wrists, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

With a smile, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. “How was your day?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It was long,” he replied, nuzzling against your hair. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You both lay back against the bed, the night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. As you nestled into his side, the warmth and safety enveloping you made you forget all about the world outside—and the circumstances that had brought you together.

In that moment, it felt like everything was perfect, just as it should be, and you let the worries of the past fade away into the night, content to simply be with him.

-----

🐧Damn... Rollercoaster it was to write this XD I hope it gave off Stockholm syndrome aha :"D Anyways I loved Jonathan Crane on this fic :"3 his the possesive I need >:D but at the same time its kinda... lovely how he abducted us like we were a stray cat and never letting us go out but also respecting our privacy by having his own room too. Yeah he has his own room but he comes to yours becuase he likes sleeping with you better. Anyways hope you enjoyed it hehe ^^🐧

Tags are in the comment

[superheroes-or-whatever]

Catwomen by rozemarts

[slut4thebroken]

Dangerous Game

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Judge Jonathan Crane x wife!reader

Summary | You remind your husband who he belongs to.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, murder?, crazy in love, emphasis on crazy, breeding kink, overstimulation, praise, possessiveness, like a lot of it, they’re kinda cute tbh, feral animalistic carnal primal frenzied fucking lol.

Words | 3k

Notes | Thank you @pinguwrites for making this c.ai bot 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“So what will it be?” Jon asked the cowering man in front of him. “Death? Or exile.” He pulled you closer to him as he spoke and you leaned into his ear with a smirk. 

“Exile.” You whispered.

“Darling… don’t you think we should pick death here?” He whispered back, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your neck. 

“I guess you’re right.” You sighed. Raising your voice a little louder, you said, “Death, then… By exile.” You had a cruel smirk on your face and your husband couldn’t help but mirror it.

“You heard her.” He called out to the man. “Death by exile.” He raised the gavel and brought it down on the desk loudly. You ignored the man’s screaming and protests as he was dragged away, then it was just the two of you in the courtroom. Jon leaned down into your neck to trail more kisses across it and you let out a pleased sigh. 

“Shall we go home, Mrs. Crane?” He whispered softly, pulling back and giving you the smile that always fills your stomach with butterflies. He leaned down to kiss you, but the moment was ruined by a small cough. He huffed as he turned to see a pretty, young woman standing shyly by the doors of the courtroom, looking so terribly lost and afraid. But his annoyance was quickly replaced by fascination and intrigue.  

As you watched your husband's reaction, you immediately got hit with a wave of angry jealousy. He picked up on your emotions, but it almost excited him. He wondered what you’d do… How the night might end because of it. 

Jon looked at the young woman in front of him with an interested glance. Wanting to make her feel welcome in his presence, he raised his hand to get the woman’s attention, motioning for her to come closer.

“Hello, there!” He said in a friendly voice. “What brings you to see the judge?” You scowled at his tone, but waited before doing anything rash. He gave the young woman a smile as she inched closer. You didn’t like how he was talking to her; so gentle and inviting… And the smile on his face made your blood boil. 

“I… I have a request for the judge.” The woman said, looking at him nervously. Jon waited a few seconds, taking in her appearance. When he finally responded, his voice was filled with a kindness that was rare for him, especially in his role as judge.

“Please… don’t hesitate to make your request.” He said softly. “You can trust me to do what is right.” It almost seemed like he was asking you to do something— like he was challenging you. Rationally, you knew he wasn’t. But he was playing a dangerous game with this. 

“Uhm… I know this is really odd to ask,” she said with embarrassment, “but… do you think I could be exiled from Gotham?” Jonathan looked down at her in shock, his face twisting with confusion as he processed her request.

“Exiled?” He asked, brows scrunched together. The girl nodded her head quickly.

“You can exile me from this place. Forever…” She begged, almost in tears. “Please.” You perked up at the request, but Jon responded before you could say anything. 

“Why would you want that?” He asked teasingly.

“I just… I feel like I really need to get out of this place, and I thought that might be a good option…” She said, another wave of embarrassment washing over her. At least she was too stupid for your husband. You almost couldn’t believe that she genuinely thought being exiled meant to leave safely. You stood up suddenly, making Jon stiffen as he wondered what you were about to do.

“You want to leave Gotham? You want to be free of this place forever?” You asked, taking your time as you approached.

“Yes, please.” She answered quietly. Jon looked between both of you as you began to circle the girl slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

“This isn’t necessary, darling.” He said calmly. “I don’t think exile is a suitable punishment. She should be able to leave freely.” He added. The woman looked up at him with pure awe as he spoke, wondering how the villain could be so kind.

“Oh no were not punishing her, Jon. She deserves a chance to escape, a chance to leave here and never come back.” His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where you were going with this. Finally landing in front of the young woman, you spoke to her again. “Do you want that chance?” You asked softly.

“Yes, please!” She said quickly. Jon eyed you with apprehension, wondering what you meant. It sounded like you had something planned, he just didn’t know what. 

“Okay.” You said tenderly as you brought both of your hands up to cup the girl's cheeks. “We’ll help you. You can leave this place and never return.” You said with a warm smile.

“Thank you! Oh thank you.” She cried, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Don’t thank me. This is all because of him.” You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Jon.

Before either of them had a chance to respond, you were tightening your grip on the girl’s head, then quickly forcing it to the side. There was a loud, deafening cracking sound, then she dropped to the floor at your feet. Jon stared down at the lifeless body in shock for a moment, but his expression quickly darkened as he looked at you, then made his way over. 

“What did you do?” He hissed, glancing at the dead body on the floor before looking at you again, waiting for an answer.

“You’re mine, Jonathan Crane. Don’t forget that.” You warned. He narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, then a dangerous smile creeped up on his face when he remembered who he was talking to; Mrs. Crane.

“Yes, I’m yours.” He whispered, then wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You moaned in surprise, but quickly brought your hands up to his hair, pulling roughly as if you were still punishing him. He groaned against your lips and snaked the hand on the back of your neck up to your hair, pulling just as hard as you had. As the desire grew, so did the passion and hunger. The kiss turned almost violent and within seconds you had him on the floor underneath you. 

You quickly pulled away from the kiss to rip your shirt off, then leaned back down and immediately continued. Jon’s hands roamed your body, sliding up from your hips to your waist and groping you wherever he could reach. With a grunt of effort, he rolled both of you over so he was on top and tore off his coat and tie as you started working on unbuttoning his shirt. After only a few seconds, you got too impatient and ripped it open, then pushed it down his shoulders to get it off of him. 

You removed his glasses, tossing them onto the growing pile of clothes, and he quickly ripped your bra off your body before leaning back down to continue the kiss. Your nails dragged over his back, making him groan, and he used one hand to pinch and pull at your nipple while the other wrapped around your neck, squeezing tightly. You locked your legs around his hips and pulled him closer, silently telling him to start giving both of you a small taste of what’s to come. He obeyed eagerly and started rutting against you, dragging his clothed cock over your clothed heat until your hips started rocking up to meet him. 

You can’t even remember the last time you’ve had sex like this— so… animalistic. He humped you desperately, not even faltering when you reached your hands down between your bodies to unbuckle his belt and open his pants. Once that was done, you unbuttoned your own pants and started shoving them down. Even though he seemed to want to keep this up, he clearly wanted to fuck you more because he pulled back, grunting with displeasure, to let you push your pants and underwear down as he took off your shoes. He quickly freed his already hard cock and only stroked it twice before lining up. 

“Say it again.” He gruffed, teasing your entrance. “Say I’m yours.” 

“You’re mine, Jonathan.” You growled and he immediately pushed in. He leaned back over you, muffling your moan with a kiss. You obviously weren’t prepped enough to take his cock yet, but the faint burning sensation was almost fitting for the kind of sex you were having. He pushed all the way in, then stopped as he moved down to your neck to kiss and bite the sensitive skin. Your hands carded through his hair before gripping tightly and bucking your hips up with a whine. “Fuck me.” You said it like a demand, but both of you knew it was a plea. He didn’t bother arguing though. 

He slowly pulled back, then snapped his hips forward roughly, making you jolt as a startled moan escaped you. Moving one of your hands to his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back and arched up into him, whimpering as he maintained the slow, but hard thrusts. He hissed in pain from your sharp nails, but bit down on your neck in retaliation, making you cry out. Deciding to speed up, his pace turned almost brutal, but you loved every second of it as he took you on the floor of his courtroom, inches away from the dead body. 

“Fuck— Jon…” You moaned, making him pull back to look at you. The moment he saw how fucked out you already were, his expression darkened. His pace became more aggressive and rapid until you were mewling, clawing at his back as your lips parted in a silent moan and your brows stayed scrunched together, barely able to handle the intensity of the pleasure. 

“God— I love you.” Despite his almost violent movements, his eyes were full of love and his voice was tender. He leaned down to kiss you again and you moaned loudly in response to his words. 

With the way he was leaned over you like this, pressed so close, you felt trapped. There was nowhere for you to go— you would be forced to take his cock whether you wanted to or not. The thought had you whining and squirming, so you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from the kiss. 

“Make me come.” You whispered, staring up at him with half lidded eyes. He cursed under his breath and gave you a small smirk before snaking a hand down to rub your clit. You were trembling now, arching up into him and holding him against your body. He knew you were close so he started fucking you harder and faster, ignoring his own orgasm that was steadily building. 

“You take my cock so fucking good.” He whispered, making you whine. “Perfect fucking pussy and all mine.” He growled against your neck, breathing raggedly. “And I’m all yours, right, Mrs. Crane?” He said teasingly, but you mewled in response regardless. 

“Mine.” You moaned, tilting your head back as your eyes fluttered shut. He started kissing across your neck, sometimes biting, sometimes sucking to leave a mark. “Mine… You’re mine.” You said firmly, feeling him smile against your neck. 

“All yours, baby.” He whispered, moving up to kiss you again. You could feel yourself getting closer, especially when he bit your lip, then licked into your mouth, claiming every part of your body as his own. “Are you gonna come for me, darling?” He asked quietly, almost pleading with you to do so. You gave an eager nod, deepening the kiss again and keening desperately. 

Your sounds got louder and louder, your body squirming from the unrelenting pleasure until finally it all snapped. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, keeping him close as he worked you through it. He moaned into the kiss at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. 

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, when you finally sagged into the floor of his courtroom, boneless and completely come drunk. He moved his hand up from your clit to wrap around your neck as his thrusts sped up even more, making you whine in discomfort. 

“J-Jon…” you whimpered, eyes welling with tears, “s’too much.” He growled at your weak protests, tightening his grip on your neck. 

“I’m not going to stop.” He almost laughed at the idea. “This cunt is mine and I’m going to use it until I'm satisfied.” You mewled at the possessiveness in his voice, but it quickly turned into a pained moan, the longer he kept using your sensitive body. Despite the overstimulation, you could feel the embers of arousal in your stomach coming back to life. You loved that he was desperate enough to keep fucking you even after you protested. You loved that every part of you belonged to him; body, mind, and soul. 

He thrust into you with wild intensity, grunting and breathing heavily as he got closer and closer to his release. You weakly clawed at the hand squeezing your neck, but he was unmoving. Tears were brimming in your eyes now from the pleasurable pain, but that only fueled his hunger. 

“This is what you fucking wanted, isn’t it?” He hissed, making you whine. “You went through all of this trouble,” his hand moved from your neck to roughly grip your jaw and turn your head to the side, giving you a perfect view of the dead body that started all of this, “so stop fucking whining and take it.” He growled. When he pulled your head back to face him, there was a grin on your face at the reminder of what you did. 

“God you’re so fucking sick.” He muttered, but his tone was full of love and admiration. Leaning down quickly, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss and his hands eagerly ran over your body as he chased his orgasm. When he pulled back, far too soon, you let out a needy whine that went ignored by him. “Should I give you my come?” He cooed, mockingly, but you moaned anyway. “I gave you my ring, my last name… might as well give you my kid too, right?” 

“Fuck… Jon, please-” You gasped out, feeling another orgasm building. 

“Yeah? Is that what you want? Because I can give it to you, baby… All you have to do is ask.” He said teasingly, but the breathlessness in his voice betrayed his composure— he wanted this just as badly as you did. 

“I want it.” You whined, making him chuckle at your lame attempt. 

“Do better.” 

“I,” You started, but cut off when his hand reached down for your clit again, making it infinitely harder to speak. “I- I want your come, Jon. Want your kid.” You choked out.  

“You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full of my come, so deep that you’ll have no choice but to get knocked up?” You moaned loudly and nodded, unable to respond as the pleasure consumed you. 

“Please… Please fill me, Jon. I- I want to be yours even more than I already am.” You whined, feeling an almost carnal need to be completely his, in every single way possible. 

“Good girl.” He gave you a pleased smile, making your cheeks heat up. “I’m gonna give it to you, I just need you to come for me first. Can you do that, darling?” You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. 

“Yes— yes, I’m close..” Sometimes you forget that he knows your body better than you do. He knows exactly what to do to push you closer to the edge, or pull you back down from it. And right now he was forcing you closer, giving you no other option but to come for him. 

“C’mon, baby… Let me make you mine.” He begged softly, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You barely lasted another second before the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped, feeling so much more intense than your first orgasm. You cried out and dragged your nails across his back as you arched up into him. He was pounding you ruthlessly, still rubbing your clit, and the orgasm almost felt a little too good to solely be pleasurable because of the overstimulation. 

Once he knew your orgasm finally faded, he brought his hand back up from your clit and focused on fucking you, hard and fast. You were sobbing out moans, tears brimming in your eyes as he continued using your sore, sensitive body for his pleasure. 

“Please— please come, Jon.” You whimpered, staring up at him with teary eyes. He cursed under his breath and let his head drop into the crook of your neck. Once again, you felt trapped— forced to take what he wanted you to. He was grunting quietly and panting as he built up to his orgasm. 

“Jon..” You sobbed, making him groan. The movement of his hips became strained for a second, then he was pushing in all the way, deep enough to make you whine at the uncomfortable pressure on your cervix. He was moaning quietly and panting against your neck as his come finally spilled into you, marking you as his. You mewled and squirmed, arousal pooling in your stomach once again. He kept his face buried in the crook of your neck as he calmed himself down, chest heaving. When he pulled up to look at you, he had the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. 

“So pretty, darling.” He whispered, brushing the tears from your face and cupping your cheek. “And all mine.” You gave him a dopey smile at his words, then pulled him down to kiss you again. This one was far less animalistic, but it wasn’t even close to lacking in passion. When he pulled back, you reached for his left hand, bringing it up to your lips and gently kissing the ring on his finger, keeping your lips just barely touching his hand as you responded. 

“All mine.” 

Taglist (join here)

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[curtvilescomic]

Anne Hathaway as Catwoman in Dark Knight Rises

[through-bats-eyes]

can this movie get any gayer oh my god.

[nerd-first]

[rckstarfiles]

[greatgavintron]

So, one of my favorite quotes to voice is the bane quote from dark knight rises, and I can never complete the quote because it's been forever since I watched the movie. So, after I say "I was born it it... molded by it," I usually try to dig up the rest of the quote from my brain, but each and every time my brain goes: "you want to be MY LOVER?! Earn it! SEDUCE ME!!!"

[loustilldraws]

Days 6 thru 8 of my attempt at the 100 faces challenge last year. Featuring every on-screen adaptation of Batman that I've seen and could think of.

Plus this lil guy here:

Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. Like a lot of people right now, I've been going through it, so to speak.

I'm gonna try to get back into posting non-archival art projects again soon. Thanks for bearing with me!

[hello-god-its-me-sara]

go see Cilly on the big screen Sept 16th!

[stuffydollband]

Trans men STAY grabbin at they damn lapels

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[nightinthemarsh]

I love the Gotham show so much omfg

I was gonna add ivy, Harley, and Selina but they'd be really good parents and I want a kinda mid, kinda insane parent lmao

Also for a fanfiction, I swear at some point I'll actually finish a fanfiction and post ittt

[myfairgame]