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jslittlebirdie · 2 years

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Take My Hands

Pairing: Soft!Ledger!Joker x Reader

Summary: You are tired, stressed and exhausted. But J gives you comfort by letting you hold his hands.

Word count: 1,213

Genre: fluffy comfort / self-insert

Warnings: none

Notes: I'm back with my way too soft characterization. But that's what I need right now. Because this is a self-insert and exactly what I would like to do with J. I'm longing for a break and a bit of softness. I hope this little fic brings some joy and comfort to others as well. Unedited.

Taglist: @ajokeformur-ray @sacredempressnatlyia @rommies

Another long and stressful day is slowly coming to an end. As Gotham City is slowly engulfed by the darkness of the night, you and J are sitting together on the sofa in your living room. Your back flat against his broad chest while he has both arms wrapped tightly around you, his leather clad hands resting in your lap. Your body shakes from exhaustion as you press a little closer to him to feel as much of him as possible. If you could, you would probably crawl under his skin so that he could envelop you completely and you would be safe from this cruel and overwhelming world. Only the warmth and safety of your beloved clown around you. Kind of ironic that you feel that way with him, considering who he is and how he acts when he isn't with you. But to you, he's so much more than just Gotham's most feared criminal. He's your love, your home. A small barely audible sob escapes your lips. And of course, J notices your attitude, he shushes you softly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and places a tender kiss on your temple. Something that immediately makes you melt. Oh, how much you love him.

You lazily turn your head and watch him for a while. His dark rimmed eyes are fixed on the TV and you see the corner of his mouth twitching upwards every now and then into a sly smirk as the reporter talks about his latest crimes. Normally, you would have asked him about his day and joyfully listened to everything he had to say. You love to listen to his wonderful gravelly voice, especially when he was full of excitement talking about his ideas. His giggles and cackles. The way he changes his voice when he makes fun of his henchmen. But you are tired. So tired…

You shift a little, your head resting against his shoulder, and bring your hands forward to meet his. You slowly and reverently trace the stitchings of his purple gloves. Even through the leather, you can feel the warmth radiating from him. In some places the material is already scuffed, dirt and stains of the day's work. But you find them incredibly pretty and if they weren't much too big, you would have stolen them long ago. Like his shirt. When you told him once, he replied that he will just hide them on a high shelf so that you can't reach them. That's how small you are. You can still hear him chuckling at his own joke.

You play with the hem of his gloves where leather stops and his wrists are exposed. Fingers move and you carefully tamper with the buckle that holds the garment in place. For a brief moment, your eyes meet as J notices what you're doing. You smile at him, heat rising in your cheeks, and he gives you one of his beautiful grins. He knows how much you love to do all this. Even if he doesn't quite understand what's so special about it. But somehow he likes it and he secretly basks in the tenderness you give him. A low hum of appreciation rumbles in his chest, so you continue, first freeing one hand and then the other.

And his hands are large. Especially compared to yours. Hands that are skillful and work with deadly precision. Hands that can destroy and take lives so easily. But also hands that are always gentle with you. You can feel the ghost of his touch on your body and you sigh softly. His touches make you feel safe, comfortable and loved. You trust him. Again, something that sounds incredibly ironic, but it's true. You know he's not going to hurt you. He decided against it a long time ago. Instead, he decided to stay with you and allow you to slowly sneak into his heart. Yes, that's exactly what you do. Every time you are together like this, you sneak a little more into his heart. To the point that every now and then he catches himself longing for you when he's out for his business. Not that he would ever admit that.

Your fingertips move over his veins that stand out so delicately until you reach the first knuckles of his fingers. His nails probably need to be clipped again soon, but there will be time for that later. You let out a breathy giggle and shake your head as you think of his reaction, how he would roll his eyes and groan dramatically. Then you turn his hands so that you can touch his palms and trace the fine lines. His skin is rough and calloused, but soft at the same time. Remnants of paint on his slender fingers, from when he put the makeup on his pretty face. If it were up to you, he wouldn't need to hide behind it. Scars or not. They are a part of him and you love all parts of him equally. To you, he's the most beautiful and handsome man, nothing can and will ever change that.

When you think you worshipped this part of his hands enough, you turn them over again. Here too, you see various small pale scars his past and job have left on his skin. Cuts, burns and even something that looks like an old gunshot wound. Your heart hurts... Sometimes it hurts so badly that you secretly wish he would cut it out and keep it. Of course, you are speaking only metaphorically. But your silly heart belongs to him and him alone. Your urge to love on him only gets stronger. You want to kiss each of his knuckles separately, every inch of his skin. So you decide to put your thoughts into action. You bring his right hand to your lips and kiss it. You pepper small, soft kisses on the entire back of his hand and pay extra attention to the marks. A cheesy thought pops into your head. - If I could, I would kiss away all his scars and bad memories. - A single tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away, hoping he didn't notice. You're sure he doesn't like knowing how many tears you're shedding over him. But you can't help it.

You hear J sigh. Again, beautiful dark and chocolate brown eyes look at you. And if you didn't know him so well, you would miss that something soft is swirling in them. But you do know him well enough and so you get to read all the little signs of his love language. Right now you understand him very clearly. He makes you feel so content, calm and happy that you only get sleepier and you yawn. Your eyes become heavier and heavier with each passing second.

"Aww, seems like someone needs to sleep, hm?" J chuckles with mock sympathy and wraps his arms around you again. "It's fine, toots. Just rest for me, okay?" - You're safe, I'm not going anywhere. - Another tender kiss on your temple. - I love you, Y/N.

Finally, you close your eyes and let your tiredness get the better of you. But not without intertwining your fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. You smile and whisper, "I love you too, J… Thank you."

#my writing #J #ledger!joker #ledger joker #tdk #the dark knight #tdk joker #heath ledger joker imagine #ledger!joker fanfic #ledger!joker x reader #ledger!joker imagine #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x y/n #soft!joker #fluffy comfort #joker fluff #fluff #tdk fanfic #the dark knight imagine

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michaellangdonswhore · 8 months

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warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

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You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

#jonathan crane #dc scarecrow #scarecrow #the scarecrow #batman imagine #the batman #batman #the dark knight #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillain murphy #jonathan crane smut

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pinkd3mon · 7 months

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Dealing with Trauma while being King Dedede

Bonus:

Dealing with Trauma while being Taranza

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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months

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Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:

Face Me...

Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)

Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.

Word Count: ~4,426

Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general

Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.

Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.

A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.

"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.

"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.

"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."

"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."

He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.

"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."

"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"

"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."

"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.

"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.

"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.

You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.

"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.

"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.

"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.

"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"

"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"

You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.

"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.

"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.

"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.

"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.

"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.

"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"

"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.

"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.

"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.

"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."

"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"

"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."

You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.

"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.

"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."

"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.

"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.

"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"

His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.

"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."

You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.

"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.

Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.

"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.

"You want those? You have to do something for me first."

"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.

"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."

You blinked, rather stunned.

"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"

And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.

"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.

"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.

"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.

"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.

You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.

"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"

"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.

"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.

"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.

Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?

"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.

"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.

"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.

"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?

"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.

"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"

He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.

"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.

"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.

"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."

You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.

"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.

"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.

"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.

"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.

"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.

"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."

"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."

"How do you know, you've done that before?"

He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.

"I've read up on the concept, you know."

"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.

"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."

"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.

"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.

"You want me to choke you with this?"

"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.

"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.

"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"

"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."

"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.

"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.

"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."

"So you aren't a virgin after all?"

"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.

"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"

You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.

"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.

"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.

"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).

But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.

"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.

"I told you, you are my first prototype."

"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.

"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.

"What kind of man of do you think I am?"

"Is that yes or no?"

"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"

"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.

"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.

"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.

"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.

"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.

"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.

"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.

He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.

"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.

"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."

"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."

He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.

Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.

"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.

"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.

"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.

"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?

Maybe.

Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!

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princessofmarvel · 9 months

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Nothing to fear

summary | jonathans girlfriend accidentally takes some fear toxin, while finding out that he is the scarecrow (i suck at summaries, lol)

pairing | jonathan crane x innocent!fem!reader!

word count | 1.2k

genre | fluff with some angst!

requested? | yes! thank you so much for this request @kpopgirlbtssvt i had so much fun writing it!

warnings! | the reader gets drugged, but I think that’s it! Please let me know if there is anything that I am missing! And, this is not really proofread yet, lol

author’s note! | my requests are open for these characters! please send in your requests for blurbs, headcanons, or imagines! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Jonathan has been at work the entire day, irritated and stressed beyond belief. The only thing getting him through it? Knowing that his beautiful girl was home waiting for him. She called him earlier to let him know that she was going to his place after her last class, he insisted that she just rest after, but she kept saying something about a surprise she had planned. He knew there was no talking her out of it, so he decided that it would be better to just look forward to anything she had planned.

When he met her, he could have sworn she wasn’t real. She had accidentally bumped into him while she was getting her coffee one day, and knocked his coffee to the ground. She immediately started apologizing, and asking what his order was so she could get him a new one. And, no matter how many times he told her it was fine, and to not worry about it (mostly so he could just hurry on to work) she wouldn’t stop. He finally caved and gave her his order, and she immediately ran and ordered him a new one. She gave it to him with an intoxicating smile on her face while still apologizing. After the encounter Jonathan had to dig deep into his mind and make sure he hadn’t just imagined it. Just to make sure, he went back to the same coffee shop the next morning, and saw her sitting there at a table, her pale pink nails tapping away at her computer, while sipping her drink. As he was about to leave, she looked up at him, and invited him to sit with her. They sat and talked until the coffee shop was closing up.

Jonathan unlocked his door and walked into his home, while the smell of a freshly cooked meal immediately hit him in the face. He realized what the surprise must have been. She had mentioned last week how she wished they had enough time to spend a proper meal with each other. He had something planned for the weekend, but she must have beat him to it. As he walked into the kitchen he saw the lights dimmed, candles lit, and the amazing meal set out on the table. The only thing missing? His angel was nowhere to be seen. He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings as he heard small whimpers coming from the bathroom beyond the shut door.

“Sweetheart?” He called out, as he knocked on the door. When all he got back was a scared whimper he decided that he couldn’t wait for a response, and walked into the bathroom only to be met with a sight that broke his heart.

His girlfriend trembling in the corner with tears streaming down her face, the nice dress she had on now all wrinkled up. Her once done up hair had now been messed up from what he imagined would have been her fingers pulling at it. She had her head down on her knees while mumbling something to herself that he couldn’t make out. He didn’t understand what was going on until he noticed the now knocked over, and empty bottle of his fear toxin on the sink.

“Angel?” He said calmly as he bent to her level, slowly taking her face in his hands as he tried to make eye contact with her eyes darting everywhere but at him.

“J-Johnny? There was a-” She stopped as she started to sob again. He pulled her into his chest and held her until she started to calm down.

Once she calmed down enough, he helped her into the shower to calm her, and make sure she knew that whatever it was she saw was fake, but what she was feeling was real. After he helped her get dried off, dressed, and wrapped in a blanket on the couch, he brought her a warm cup of tea, and sat opposite of her, waiting for her to talk first.

“What was that?” She quietly mumbled out, while taking a sip of her tea, staring straight ahead.

“It was a fear toxin, something I use on patients.” He tells her slowly in fear of her freaking out, but she stays surprisingly calm, while just staring straight ahead, so he continued. “I give it to them so they can face their fears, and see that it is all just in their heads”

“And the mask?” She asked, finally looking at him, her eyes puffy, and red from all the crying she had done. “I saw it in the case, I went to put it away, but when I picked it up, it was unlocked and everything fell out. It’s the mask of that man they show on the news, is that you Jonathan?”

He stared at her for a minute, trying to figure out how to answer this without her freaking out. “Yes, it’s me, and I completely understand if that makes you want to end this.”

Saying that to her broke his heart, he wanted her to stay, but he knew that if this was too much for her, he needed to let her leave. She was the only person in this world that he could never even dream of hurting, no matter how much it would hurt him.

“Jonathan, I’m not completely sure what it is that you do, but I do know that you make me feel safer, and happier than any other man in this city could. I’m not sure that I'm ready to know exactly what it is you do, but I’m not ready for this to end.” She has to him in almost a whisper.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’ll explain everything when you’re ready.” He says while pulling her down to lay on his chest, while wrapping the blanket around them both. As he kisses her head he notices that she has already fallen asleep, probably worn out from the fear toxin. Jonathan eventually falls asleep with her on the couch, with her all wrapped up in his arms.

The next morning, Jonthan woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes, and his girlfriend was no longer on his chest. He walks into the kitchen to see her, dancing around the kitchen while fixing breakfast. She jumped a little as he walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her.

“Shhhh Sweetheart, it’s just me.” He mumbles into her neck, while leaving small kisses. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I was hungry.” She said to him with a smile, while making them both a plate.

“Hey Jonathan?” She says while sitting across from him as they ate. “Am I going to get hurt?” she asked him somewhat quietly.

Jonathan made his way to kneel down next to her chair. “Never, that is the last thing that would happen, angel. You have nothing to fear.” He said, looking at her with complete genuineness.

“Okay” She said to him with a nod, and a smile. Jonathan stood up, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. As they pulled away smiling, Jonathan picked her up while she gave a small squeal. He smiled down at her only to see that she was smiling back at him as he carried her to his bedroom. While they were smiling at each other, Jonathan knew that this would all end up all right.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane batman begins #jonathan crane the dark knight #cillian murphy #cillian murphy jonathan crane #jonathan crane cillian murphy #batman begins #the dark knight #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane fluff #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane angst #jonathan crane fanfiction #jonathan crane fanfic

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nocturnest · 16 days

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You're the Cream in My Coffee

author's note: i love this fear-crazy man as much as i love coffee! 🥹 i can't imagine him drinking straight-up black coffee despite his personality because i imagine that he so secretly has a slight sweet tooth but in a refined crane kind of way - like with sweet cold foam or milk. anyway, please enjoy you guys!

It was a quiet morning at Arkham. As you made your way to your office, you couldn't help but glance with curiosity down the hall towards Dr. Jonathan Crane's door. The reserved but brilliant fellow psychologist was often the first one in the building, working tirelessly on his research and case files.

You had always admired Jonathan's sharp wit and keen intellect. Most of your colleagues steered clear of him as they found him distant and aloof. Nevertheless, he had always shown you polite courtesy. There was something about his dry sense of humor and the way his sharp blue eyes would crinkle slightly when he was amused that had captured your attention.

On this particular morning, you had woken up exceptionally early to lend a visit to your favorite coffee shop. And as you were ordering your usual drink, you thought of Dr. Crane and how hardworking he was. You had noted the dark circles that were often under his eyes and how he was usually the last to leave Arkham for the day. He looked thinner every time you saw him and you wondered if he was even eating. Before you could even process your actions, you had ordered another coffee, picking one on a whim based off of Jonathan's taste: a dark roast with hints of cinnamon and a dash of cream.

And how did you know he would like it? Well, you couldn't be blamed if you had noticed him once or twice in the staff room - on the rare occasion that he ventured out of his office to reluctantly grab the hospital's rat-poison-flavored coffee. You'd noticed the way he would wrinkle his nose in distaste at the acrid, burnt flavor of the breakroom coffee, quickly sprinkling a dash of cinnamon from a small tin he kept in his pocket to improve the taste.

It was those small details - the way he would linger over each sip, savoring the subtle warmth and spice - that had given you insight into his refined palate. And when you had the chance to bring him his morning coffee, you knew you had to do something special, something that would truly please him.

You thought he deserved something nice. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Jonathan, knowing that your colleagues often spoke unkindly of him behind his back. The other psychologists at Arkham would whisper and snicker, casting judgmental glances in his direction as he hurried through the halls, his brow furrowed in concentration.

It saddened you to see the way they dismissed him, writing him off as nothing more than a cold, calculating eccentric. If only they could see the subtle nuances of his character, the flashes of dry wit and intellectual curiosity that you had come to admire.

You suspected that Jonathan was a deeply lonely man, so consumed by his work and his research that he had allowed the barriers around his heart to harden over time. And you couldn't help but wonder if, deep down, he craved the kind of genuine connection and understanding that so many of his peers seemed to take for granted.

That's why you had put so much thought into selecting the perfect coffee for him. You wanted him to know that there was at least one person at Arkham who saw him as more than just an oddity, more than just a means to an end. You wanted him to feel appreciated, to know that someone truly cared.

As you made your way to Jonathan's office, mug in hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. It wasn't exactly typical for a colleague to be bringing another coffee, especially one as reserved and enigmatic as Dr. Jonathan Crane. You knew you'd have to have a good excuse ready if he questioned your gesture.

Thankfully, inspiration struck as you neared his door. Earlier that morning, you had noticed the coffee maker in the staff break room was acting up again, only producing a weak, watered-down brew. Jonathan, being the devoted workaholic that he was, had likely missed his usual morning cup in his rush to get an early start.

You knocked on his office door, which was slightly ajar, "Good morning, Dr. Crane."

Jonathan looked up with brief surprise crossing his face, his eyebrows raised, before he quickly schooled his features into a more neutral and collected expression. He greeted you, his voice low and slightly raspy from lack of sleep, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You offered him the coffee, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. "I- um... The coffee machine has been acting up lately, so I brought you a fresh cup. It's probably better than the dreadful coffee they offer here anyway. I hope that's alright."

Jonathan eyed the mug skeptically, but after a moment's hesitation, he reached out and took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. "That's...very kind of you," he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied the contents of the cup.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the brief contact, but you tried your best to maintain a casual demeanor. "I know how important that first cup of coffee is, especially for someone as dedicated as you," you replied, offering him a small, hopefully reassuring smile.

His piercing blue eyes studied you for a moment, and you couldn't help but feel as though he was trying to read your thoughts.

You held your breath as Jonathan took a cautious sip, his gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, the silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft sound of rain tapping against the windowpane.

Then, to your relief and delight, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips. "It's...quite good," he admitted, his tone almost surprised.

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words. You had hoped he would enjoy it, but hearing his genuine approval was more than you could have asked for.

"I'm glad you like it," you replied, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. "I know it's not much, but I thought you deserved something better than the usual."

Jonathan's eyes softened as he met your gaze, a flicker of gratitude shining in their depths. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.

With a nod of acknowledgment, you turned to leave, feeling a wave of accomplishment wash over you. You sensed that this would be the beginning of many more interactions with Jonathan Crane.

Over the next few weeks, it became routine for you to bring Jonathan his favorite coffee whenever you could, even if it meant waking up a bit earlier to make it to work. It was worth it to see a lovely smile grace his face, his entire lighting up youthfully. Gradually, the two of you began to exchange brief conversations in the hallway or during breaks.

You learned more about Jonathan than you ever imagined you would. He shared stories of his childhood - some being precious and others proving more saddening. He spoke about his love for literature and philosophy and his interest in the intricacies of the human mind. You found yourself drawn to his sharp intellect and dry wit.

Some of his casual sarcastic remarks and mutterings to himself had you practically crying with laughter, causing your colleagues to stare at you as if you were a madwoman if they happened to be nearby. After discovering how easily he could make you laugh, Jonathan began using your weakness to your advantage and making you giggle in the most serious of situations.

He had such a surprising humor to him that had only come out by spending more time with him the softness that peeked through his carefully composed exterior. You noticed other things about him too - little details that slowly painted a fuller picture of who Jonathan truly was. The manner in which his eyes would light up with a rare, genuine passion as he discussed the latest developments in psychology. The subtle way his hands would run unusually cold, a telltale sign of his underlying tension and nervousness. The habit of running his fingers through his dark hair when he was deep in thought, brow furrowed in concentration.

And then, of course, there were the moments of softness, the flashes of vulnerability that would occasionally peek through the carefully composed exterior he presented to the world. The slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he was truly amused by one of your witty exchanges. The gentle tone that would creep into his voice when he spoke of his favorite books or theories. It was in those unguarded instants that you caught glimpses of who the man truly was.

And there were moments when you began to realize that your fascination with him wasn't one-sided. Jonathan too asked about you and your life. He chuckled at your embarrassing stories and frowned when you mentioned the rougher parts of your childhood. He had an aptitude for listening and for giving sound advice, which made you realize just how incredible he was at what he did for a living.

But something more began to grow between the two of you. You felt an undeniable pull towards him that had only grown since that first step, that first cup of coffee. And sometimes, you felt the heaviness of his gaze mixed with an indescribable emotion. Whatever feeling it was behind his eyes - well, you wanted him to stare at you like that forever.

You had grown accustomed to the quiet camaraderie that had developed between you and Jonathan over the past few weeks. Your daily coffee deliveries had become a cherished ritual, and the easy banter you shared had slowly chipped away at the icy facade he so often presented to the world.

But today, as you made your way through the halls of Arkham, you couldn't help but overhear a hushed conversation between a few of your colleagues. Their words, laced with barely concealed disdain, filled you with unease.

"Can you believe that she brings Crane coffee every morning?" one of them scoffed. "As if he's not weird enough already."

Another chimed in, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Yeah, and have you noticed how much time she's been spending with him lately? Probably trying to whore herself off to get a promotion."

You felt your cheeks flush with hurt and embarrassment, your heart sinking. Was that really what they all thought of you? That you were simply using Jonathan for your own personal gain? That you weren't genuine about your desire for his friendship?

The discussion continued, the gossip growing more and more vicious until you couldn't bear it anymore. You felt tears creeping out of your eyes as you stalked down the halls and back to your office, avoiding every glance that came your way. You shut the door behind you, making your way directly to the small couch in your office and pulling a soft blanket around your trembling shoulders as the tears finally spilled over. The cruel words of your colleagues kept echoing in your mind, each barb cutting deeper than the last.

How could these colleagues of yours, who had faked their pleasantries with you and occasionally even asked you about your day, be so two-faced? How could they think so little of you? Of the genuine friendship you had forged with Jonathan? The time you had spent getting to know him, the way your heart raced whenever he fixed you with that piercing gaze - it was all so much more than some cheap ploy for favor or advancement.

You cared for Jonathan, more than you knew how to express. The warmth of his smile, the subtle softness that would sometimes peek through his carefully crafted facade - it had all wormed its way deep into your heart. And the thought of anyone diminishing those precious moments you shared cut you to the core.

As you sat there, your vision blurred by tears, you didn't hear the familiar knock at your door. It wasn't until you sensed a presence beside you that you looked up, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of Jonathan wearing a concerned expression.

"My dear, what's wrong?" he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he moved to sit beside you.

You couldn’t find the strength in you to respond, tears continuing to streak down your cheeks. Something in Jonathan's heart broke for you, and he placed a gentle arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

"It's alright." He spoke in a soothing, gentle tone, his fingertips lightly stroking your arm in a comforting gesture, "I'm here."

Jonathan waited for your sobs to subside and then carefully cradled your face, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining tears, "Tell me, what happened?" His brow furrowed with concern as he searched your face, waiting for you to find the right words.

Your breath was shaky, gaze falling as you recounted the gossip you had heard, "I-I was bringing you coffee - you know, like usual. But then I heard some of the others talking and..." You paused and Jonathan's expression darkened as he listened, his jaw tightening with barely contained anger.

"Some of the others talking, saying such horrible things. About how I'm only doing it to try and get ahead, that I'm..." Anger took over you as you utter the last part, "whoring myself off."

Jonathan practically gritted his teeth in anger at that. It was one thing for him to have to deal with the constant remarks and bullying in his life. By now, he was used to it - until that changed when he met you. But for you to be dragged into this, to be treated so horribly. He wouldn't stand for it.

"My dear, why on Earth would you put yourself through this for my sake?" His piercing blue eyes studied you intently, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "After all, I'm hardly worth the trouble, am I?" There was a self-deprecating edge to his words, like he truly believed he wasn't worth the effort.

Jonathan sighed, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features, "You shouldn't have to defend me, nor should you have to endure the cruelty of our colleagues. I'm quite accustomed to their...less than pleasant opinions of me." A wry, humorless smile tuggeed at the corners of his lips.

He pauses, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he meets your confused gaze. You didn't understand how he failed to see how incredible he actually was. You hesitated, murmuring, "They're wrong, you know. You're a wonderful friend and they just don't see that."

Jonathan's eyes widened but he hid his surprise with a soft smile, "Oh? Well I'm truly touched. I find your unwavering loyalty quite endearing."

You blushed as his expression turned impish, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, scrutinizing your words, "And friends, you say?"

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I...I consider you my closest friend here, Jonathan." The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you suddenly felt caught.

Jonathan's expression turned thoughtful, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Is that so?" He paused, his piercing gaze studying you intently. "Then how do you explain the time you fell asleep on my shoulder in my office?" His tone was lightly teasing, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Or that time we shared a cup of coffee, our lips mere inches apart?"

Your face reddened more and more as you tried to figure out a response. "T-that was just...I mean, it was only once! And the coffee, I just...I wanted to make sure you got the right order, that's all!"

Jonathan chuckled, clearly delighted by your flustered state. "Hmm, I see. And what about the fact that you knew exactly how I take my coffee from the very start? Cinnamon and all?" His fingers graze your cheek, leaving you to only want more of his touch. "Surely that goes beyond the realm of mere friendship, don't you think?"

He leaned in even closer, tilting his head with mock admonishment, his gaze flicking down to your lips for the briefest of moments. "And let's not forget that time I caught you...unbeknownst to you, of course...staring at my..."

You can't help but cut him off, your heart racing. "Alright, alright! I admit it, Jonathan. I...I've developed feelings for you. More than just friendship." You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable. He noticed the fear on your face, which he would have taken pleasure in if you weren't you.

Jonathan's expression softened, and he reached out to gently tilt your chin up, meeting your eyes. "My dear, I don't doubt the sincerity of your affection." His voice was low and intimate. "And frankly, I'm quite flattered." He leaned in, his breath ghosting across your lips. "So tell me, is it still 'just friends' you want?"

"No?"

A subtle smile made its way onto his lips, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "Is that a question?" His thumb traced the outline of your mouth.

"No. I mean - yes. Argh, I-"

He chuckled at your struggle to speak, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured, "Am I making you nervous?"

You narrowed your eyes at him briefly, aware that he was taunting you, and whispered, "Yes." You didn't think you'd ever been this close to Jonathan. You noticed that his eyes have grey specks in them.

"Hm. Well, then...Tell me what it is that you truly want?"

The intensity of his gaze was almost overwhelming, making it difficult for you to think clearly. You found yourself captivated by the depth of emotion within his eyes.

"I want..." You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours and lips millimeters apart. Jonathan leaned back ever so slightly upon your pause. He was teasing you, eager for you to work for his touch. His hand moved down to trace the edge of your collarbone, giving you chills.

His pupils darkening, he murmured, "Say it."

You notice the bare anticipation and hunger in his gaze, but he also still had that same mischief about him. Unable to hold back your desire, you whispered, "I want you, Jonathan." Your voice was laced with a quiet intensity. "Your mind, your touch, your affection. All of you."

The words set off a proper reaction in him, and in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss.

You gasped softly, the sensation of his mouth moving hungrily against yours setting your nerves on fire. Without breaking the kiss, Jonathan gently guided you backward, and you sunk down onto the couch as he hovered over you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other keeping him upright.

In the halls, you had always noticed the musk of his cologne and the distinct smell of the spice he craved so dearly. Naturally, he tasted like cinnamon and his kiss was sweeter than you could have ever imagined.

He bit your lip and you allowed his tongue entrance into your mouth. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him.

As you pulled his hips closer to yours, you could feel a hardness press on you. Jonathan groaned as you moved against him. You could stay like this forever, under him as he kissed you senselessly.

Eventually, you parted, both of you breathless and flushed. Jonathan gazed down at you, his eyes dark with desire. His thumb brushed against your swollen lips, a blazing look in his eyes.

"You truly are a marvel, my dear. Ignore what nonsense anyone else says," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. He dips his head, nuzzling against your neck, his lips trailing featherlight kisses along your skin. "You are the cream in my coffee. You make my life sweeter. I hope to only bring you that same joy."

You softened immensely at his words. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he continued his gentle assault, intent on exploring every possible inch of you, his keen eyes noticed your little reactions to his touch. And you didn't mind one bit. You craved him. To think this had all simply started with a sweet cup of coffee...

@kpopgirlbtssvt @kiss-me-cill-me @mothhball hope you guys enjoy!

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #dc scarecrow #scarecrow #cillian murphy #batman #batman begins #the dark knight #dark knight #dark knight trilogy #the dark knight trilogy

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ledgerserious8 · 2 months

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The Bat Is Sick | Bruce Wayne (Bale) & Reader

Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing

Genre : Fluff Sickness

Summary : Your boyfriend Bruce is sick and he need you to come back..

Word count : 1.9k

The mission you had made you left Gotham city from two days and suddenly without Bruce knowing it because you made a deal with James Gordon to not tell him

You wanted to try something new because Bruce had always helping you and saving you by his batsuit and mask but you want to be a hero by your own character too

Not just batman sidekick

Alfred was worried about the high temperature of Bruce, Bruce can't help but keep sweating and trying to catch some breath

Alfred left his room and told all the maids about Bruce heath was sick and asking them to "take care of the master"

He was needing for you as his girlfriend to come and put all his pain off and he know you can take care of him too well

Alfred getting outside the Wayne manor and he noticed you walking in the streets as your costume and gloves covering by the snow and a little blood against your mouth

"Ma'am Y/n it's me alfred" - Alfred Called you as walking faster towards you

"Alfred what happened?" - You asked the butler worriedly as trying to enter the Wayne manor

"Master Bruce is getting sick ma'am. He needs you right now" - Alfred explained worriedly

Alfred looked towards Wayne manor then looked back at you as The whole mansion is lit up

"Please hurry up before it's getting worse" he added softly but sadly as looking at you like a father want to help his son

You nodded silently as smiling warmly and you started walking upstairs and forget to even wipe the blood from your mouth because all the matter now is Bruce..

You stopped in your steps and wiped the little blood, Bruce when he get sick he becomes so clingy like a little baby and he want to get all the love that his parents didn't give enough

Your hand knocked the door of his room gently and decided to wait

There's no response but just a huge sound of heavy breath coming from inside but A long and a loud breathing filled the room

You knocking again made the breathing sound stopped as you heard a sudden rustle sound coming from inside

"Come in" - he whispered tirelessly as lying on his big white bed and covers

You opened the door gently and smiled at him warmly but inside your heart you was so worried about him

Bruce's eyes widen as noticed you and without everything can say, that bat forget his sickness by running to you

Bruce wrapped his both strong arms around you so tight and don't want to let go

"I was about losing you" - Bruce whispered softly against your ear

"But you won't" - you replied softly as hugging his big strongly body back

Your presence took out all his pain away from him as He couldn't stop from hugging you tightly as tears filling his eyes was watching you.

He just couldn't help it from all the fear he felt within him

"I missed you so much love" - Bruce whispered softly as pulling you towards his chest gently and cupped your face

"I missed you so much my love" - he added again as kissing the top of your head

"I missed you too more than anything else" you confessed as smiling at him

There's not even a single energy left inside his body

A long sigh left through his mouth then he whispered - "I love you more then everything else"

You hugged him so tightly as The tears slowly dropping off from his eyes as he buried his face on your shoulder and just couldn't even move an inch

He was so tired from all the tension and the long stressful period he had during the last days

The warmth of your body made his whole pain disappear and just relaxed deeply inside your arms and He just can't stop feeling the presence of you breath next to his face

"You were out during last few days. I didn't know if you was okay or not" - The Black haired man whispered to you softly.

"I'm so sorry dear but I really was in mission and James didn't keep his promise" - You explained your side of the story calmly as meaning James told Bruce about your mission and didn't keep it secret

He was holding you hands within his hands now, His eyes kept looking at yours but his head just didn't make an angle up to see your face completely

"I know but I didn't have the right to be in peace without you by my side" he whispered in deep sadness and disappointed in his voice

You know that tone of his voice was because of you, you hide a big mission from your boyfriend that mission was so dangerous and could kill you

Just because you want to try something else and new

You cupped his face and His body starts trembling by you touch towards him again.

Your kisses on his face as apologizes made your presence warm inside his cold body

His hands were caressing your beautiful body gently as your lips continue kissing him on his lips and Your lips was everywhere on his face and he was enjoying every inch of it

"I can't bare your absence from my side love" - he whispered as your lips moves on his face towards his lips again.

Your arms touching his shoulders and your touch on his body was making his breath even heavier as your lips keep kissing his lips

All the pain and all the stress was going away as you kept on caressing his shoulders all over.

He was holding your arms tightly, pressing them tightly and holding it tight around him trying to make you touching him everywhere

"I love you" - he whispered lovingly but happily as you keep on kissing his lips gently like kissing a baby.

"I love you too" - You whispered back between the kiss softly, you can feel him started smiling

Your fingers walked through his hair was making him in a whole different level of happiness

The kissing on his lips was so gentle but passionately that he could spend hours just for this very second without getting bored

Your words towards him kept his heart pumping more and more and his breath heavier and hotter and you started kissing his neck and ear

"Promise me you won't go out from Wayne manor without telling me" - he whispered as he started on enjoying your kiss on his neck

"I promise" - You whispered against his ear making him melting by your voice

His body became soft from the kisses on his neck by your mouth

He tried to keep himself as a tough and strong man but your touch is making him melting into a soft orphan man like a baby

"Promise me you will never disappear from my life" - he asked you again as your hands was caressing the side of his body

The smell of your perfume was so sweet that he gets attracted towards it and wanted to keep you in his arms forever

"I promise on my life" - You replied calmly as stopped and looked into his eyes

It sounded very heavenly when you speak those words towards him

Every inch of his body was shaking by those words of commitment towards you, His heart was pounding very fast now and his chest is rising up and down rapidly

He pulled you head slightly towards him as if he is about to kiss you lips again but he stopped..

Instead he looked deeply into your eyes and asked you - "promise me you will be next to my side forever?"

"I promise, but now The bat is sick and I need to take care of him" - you explained teasingly as smirking charmingly

The words you was saying was getting inside his ears like waves hitting the shore

Your touch over his cheeks was making him feeling the warmness inside him as you keep on caressing his face gently

Your fingers was running through his hair gently and touching his ears slightly

"Take care of me as in how?" - he asked you playfully as he was looking into your eyes and smiling at you.

"Well I have my own ways" - You replied shortly but teasingly

"No, it's not that bad of a temperature" - he explained and his response was with a smiling face

"I'm feeling all fine and good love" - he kept on smiling as he keep on looking at you face.

The truth is he's feeling extremely bad and he is so tired but your touch over his body and face gave him strength and energy once again

Your presence was actually the best medicine for him.

"What you think I'm sick of?" - he asked you curiously and softly

You keep silent but your eyes give him that look who had a words saying "Bruce stop lying"

You was seeing through his weak lie, that's a fact because you knew him very well

He was looking at your eyes while you was giving him a worried look and asking him for the truth

He had a sick look on his face but didn't want to admit it, A long sigh left his mouth and as his face changed from a happy to a sick face

"Okay fine, I'm sick" - he whispered softly as his eyes lowered down to avoid eye contact with you.

"It's okay alfred told me but now let me take care of you" - you explained to him as sitting him on the edge of the bed

The fact that Alfred informed you about the status of his health made him feel little bit better inside

The smile on your face and the warmth of your body is the best thing that could happen to his stressed mind

No matter the amount of pain he feels inside, your touch is the medicine he needed

"How you gonna take care of me?" - he asked with soft voice while he was looking back to your eyes

"As I said I have my own ways" - you replied teasingly as smirking at him

For some unknown reason nobody know but the both of you as the way you was smiling was attracting him towards you

He know what your own ways are but he's waiting to see it happening so he decided to play dumb

He was watching you keep smiling while his eyes was searching all over her body while you was moving around him and getting on his lap

"So you going to take care of me or not?" - Bruce asked you in a playful and a teasing way as his eyes back at yours.

"Of course I will" - You whispered to him as your face was close to his

The way you was making him waiting is building up a lot of tension inside him

The close feeling and the fact that he can sense your breath made him even more attracted towards you as His whole body was craving for a touch

His mouth was also feeling hot from the closeness you was putting him within you.

His whole body is ready to explode with the tension that you're causing all over him

"I don't like waiting my love" - he whispered as he moved his face very close to yours

As soon you moved your lips to meet his, his whole body was shaking with the intensity of his desire towards you

He pulled your body towards him more and tried to hold on to you tightly as you took all his emotions by the kiss

He was enjoying the passion in you kiss and the affection he was getting from it was so intense

He never wanted the kiss to end as he kept on kissing you lips softly but so passionately

The touch of your lips on his lips was so soft that made him felt heaven itself inside his heart

All that stress and pain was melting away instantly as your lips keep touching his

The tension that was being built inside him, is now getting released as his lips is kissing yours.

He was enjoying every second of it while your kisses were going deeper and deeper than he expected

You will take a good care of him and he know it, you will always be ready when..

The Bat Is Sick

#actors #celebrities #christian bale x reader #bruce wayne christian bale #christian bale #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knight rises #imagines #bruce wayne batman #Bruce Wayne bale #reader

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 3 months

Note

Hey it me, the guy who asked for the S/O with a mask. You said to remind you about Yae Miko at a later time. Can you still do that along with Jean or no?

(Genshin Impact) Yae and Jean's S/O who wears a mask

I would've had this done WAY earlier tonight, but to be honest with you I got very distracted building a Gundam. AND SURPRISE DARK-KNIGHT!S/O BONUS FOR JEAN!

Yae had always been intrigued by the strange mask her S/O had always worn.

It was a nearly blank white mask, with two black slits acting as eyes, and a red swirl on the bottom right.

Despite how long she had known them for, they had never taken it off, even when it was just the two of them.

Admittedly, Yae pouted a little since she didn't get to see their face, and the expression she made nearly had S/O cave in to her demand.

But for one reason or another, they declined her request. But after they had become a couple, it was shortly after she got to see what their face was like, though not in the way she expected.

===

After the last of the spirits were dispatched, Yae took a deep breath as her tail and purple glowing eyes faded.

(Yae) "Hmph, how troublesome."

She turned to S/O, ready to make a casual remark before her thoughts were halted. They were on the ground with one knee, a stream of blood running down their previously pristine white mask.

Yae rushed to their side and had them sit down, putting two fingers on their neck to make sure they weren't losing their pulse.

S/O's hand gently stroked hers, putting Yae somewhat at ease.

(S/O) "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

(Yae) "I will believe that when we make sure."

Her hand reached to take off their mask before...hesitating.

S/O did not fail to notice, and nodded while looking at Yae, letting her know they had their permission.

Without wasting another second, Yae dropped the mask onto the grass slowly and examined their wound, while getting a good look at their now revealed face.

The worry in Yae's expression seemed to fade as it was replaced with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

(Yae) sigh "Here I thought the reveal of your face would be far more dramatic."

(S/O) "Was your imagination better?"

S/O asked, rolling their eyes but quickly maintained direct contact with Yae. She noticed that they were blushing a little as she stopped the worst of their bleeding.

(Yae) "Truthfully? A little. I imagined you with a great scar, or perhaps the face of a beast. Instead, you are quite normal."

(S/O) "Ouch, scathing."

Yae put the mask back into their and lifted them off the ground, making sure they were able to stand upright without her assistance. She gave them a heartfelt smile as her palm reached under their chin.

(Yae) "If you want my opinion, you should keep it off. It suits you better."

Jean was extremely suspicious about the reports of a masked individual roaming around the streets of Mondstadt.

You only wore a mask if you had something to hide.

Much to her surprise, the reason for their mask was nothing nefarious, just something personal the reason to be shared with lifetime friends.

Or lovers.

And over the course of a year, she became the latter.

She respected their privacy and never wanted to pry unless S/O wanted to bring it up themselves.

But she did always want to see their face, and she got her wish.

In a roundabout way.

===

Jean elegantly sheathed her rapier as it disappeared by her waist. She turned around to account for any injuries among the knights.

(Knight) "Ma'am! Some of the men are down, but nothing fatal. Just bruises."

(Jean) "Understood, get them medical attention and-"

(Knight 2) "A-Acting Grandmaster! S/O is heavily injured!"

She nearly chokes on the breath leaving her throat, immediately spinning around to find S/O's mask cracked with them bleeding.

Jean dropped down next to them at a speed that caught everyone off guard momentarily, before yelling for a medic.

(Jean) "S/O! Are you alright?!"

(S/O) "N-Nothing I won't recover from, but damn I'll have a headache later...!"

Jean's Vision glowed and a small gust of wind blew around them, seemingly patching up the worst of their injury as their breathing steadied.

Relaxing ever so slightly, Jean motioned for the medic to get ready to patch S/O up, before everyone realized that S/O would have to take off their mask in order to provide bandages.

S/O's mask slowly turned to Jean as an awkward silence passed, making the other Knights look at each other.

(Knight) ahem "...E-Excuse us, ma'am!"

She nodded to the knights in thanks as they saluted and respectfully gave them a moment alone.

Jean slowly reached for their mask and lifted it off, getting distracted by seeing their face for the first time. Her mouth was slightly open at the sight, taking it all in.

(S/O) "Heh, your lovely staring can't bandage the wound up, Jean."

(Jean) "O-Oh! I apologize-"

Jean began stuttering before their chuckle made her heart race for a different reason.

(S/O) "I'm teasing, it's alright. Sorry I couldn't show you my face without making you worry."

She gave a smile back as she deftly wrapped the bandage around their head before putting their mask back on.

(Jean) "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to make up for that when we return home."

BONUS:

(Dark Knight!S/O Megapost for context)

Jean had seen S/O's face plenty of times, whether it was them walking by, or up close during an intimate moment.

But she was still unused to the sight of them wearing that helmet.

It had a blank shiny red visor that covered the entire face, enclosed with black steel.

And it unnerved her that S/O remained completely silent everytime they donned it.

She knew it was the person she loved underneath the outfit, but there was no visual indication telling her so.

===

Aether wiped the sweat from his brow and sheathed his sword as it vanished. He gave a thumbs up to the group behind him.

Jean, S/O, and Kaeya all sheathed their weapons as they all seemed to relax somewhat. Since they were still in the wilderness, they couldn't let down their guard completely.

Paimon appeared suddenly next to Aether and took a deep sigh of relief.

(Paimon) "Man, those Ruin Guards were tough!"

(Kaeya) "Hm, well it's nothing that we couldn't handle. Especially with those tools of yours, S/O. What don't you have on there?"

S/O looked at their now empty belt that was previously filled with small explosives. They simply shrugged, adjusting the polearm on their back.

(Kaeya) "But I must say, those bombs looked eerily like the ones Klee made. Are you having our Crimson Knight make you supplies?"

Now, S/O crossed their arms and their posture clearly gave off the impression that they were not nearly as amused as Kaeya.

Jean gave Kaeya an exasperated look, she wasn't in the mood either.

(Aether) "Okay okay, no need to interrogate them. It's not like they aren't trustworthy."

Kaeya chuckled and decided to let sleeping dogs lie, lest he incurred Jean's wrath.

Jean turned to S/O, seeing her own worried reflection on their visor. The helmet turned to her and still said nothing.

(Jean) "It is just us, S/O. There's no need to remain completely silent."

S/O's hand rubbed the back of their neck as the helmet shifted and looked off to Jean's right. She didn't even need to see their helmet off to know the bashful expression they had, making her smile.

(Jean) "Besides, you're not letting me see the face I love."

Jean teased, her hand gently squeezing S/O's making them pause. Finally relenting, they took off their helmet for a brief moment to give Jean a kiss on her forehead, making them both blush.

(S/O) "When this is over, I promise I'll let you see it every second we're together."

Both Jean and S/O quickly noticed that Aether, Paimon, and Kaeya were staring and quickly averted their gaze, pretending not to see anything.

S/O quickly put their helmet back on as she made her way over to the group, clearly annoyed. They were glad the visor blocked all of their facial expressions, since they were laughing at Jean lecturing them for not giving any privacy.

She quickly shot S/O a look as well, knowing what they were thinking.

(Jean) "And I'll be talking to you later. My anger is not something to laugh at."

Now, it was the other three's turn to give S/O the shit eating grin.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #yae miko x reader #jean gunnhildr x reader #yae miko #jean gunnhildr #jean gunnhildr x dark knight!s/o #yae miko x y/n #jean gunnhildr x y/n #yae miko x you #jean gunnhildr x you

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gh0stsp1d3r · 6 months

Note

Soft Yan!Jonathan Crane’s innocent/naive wife finding out about him being The Scarecrow

ugh I love yan! Jonathan

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲

Warnings- Yandere themes, manipulation

“I’ll see you later, love.” He said, giving you a kiss and quickly leaving the door. He was always in a rush, so it was nothing unusual.

You sighed when he left, staring at the wall for a little and getting up for what you usually did when you were left home alone.

Jonathan’s work was busy- time consuming. You knew that, you always missed when he was gone.

After cooking, watching tv, you decided to get up and clean some. It was late at night, Jonathan should be getting home any second now.

Cleaning up the room, you spotted something in the closet. It was a case in the corner, something about it was odd.

You looked around, wondering if you should open it or not.

You decided to anyways, curiosity getting the best of you.

You opened it up, a little button inside along with a mask. Furrowing your eyebrows, you picked up the mask and you didn’t hear the door open, or your husbands footsteps walking towards the room.

He called your name,then he looked down, seeing you looking at the mask, hands trembling, face covered in fear.

He sighed, shaking his head and slowly walking towards you.

You looked up at him, hands trembling, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Jon.. I’m sorry! I didn’t-“

“Sh.” He said quickly. He took the mask, and looked back at the case to make sure you hadn’t inhaled any of his fear toxins. He was now crouching down to your level.

“Did you touch that?” He looked to the button.

You shook your head, and he put the mask back in the case, stuffing it back in the corner.

“I suppose you were gonna have to find out one way or another. C’mon.” He said, standing up and holding his hand out, helping you stand up.

You both sat on the bed, he held both your hands in his, messing with the band on your finger.

“Sometimes, there’s bad people at my job. People who deserve the pain. You understand that, right?”

You nodded.

“Sometimes I have to use those bad people for things. Experiments, Guinea pigs, basically. I use them so we can better understand fear.”

You knew about his obsession about fear all too well.

“But, you don’t have to worry about any of that, okay…? As long as you stay inside, here, you’re safe with me.” He kissed your forehead.

You slowly nodded, you trusted Jonathan with your life. So you could trust him with this.

And he made sure you would stay, he started to install cameras without you knowing. He put more locks on the outside of the door.

“It’s all for your safety, okay?” He said with a reassuring smile, giving you a kiss. The weird part was you believed him. You never let your curiosity get the best of you after that, because you believed him.

#jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane batman begins #jonathan crane the dark knight #jonathan crane cillian murphy #cillian murphy jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy

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thebatcave45 · 21 days

Text

I Missed You

No warnings. Small Bruce Wayne drabble. No descriptions of reader. Fluff. WC 816

**gif not mine**

You work closely with Bruce Wyane at his Wayne Enterprises office. He’s been gone for close to a month now instead of the two weeks he said he’d be. You had found excuses to text each other about work but it wasn’t enough. You didn’t feel it was your place to question if he was still actually on the work trip or not but you were getting antsy. Regardless, you missed him. Badly. You had started to notice the tiredness of his face and occasional bruise peeking out of his collar just before he left and it was worrying you. What was he up to at night?

The morning he reappeared you were at an appointment but his secretary had texted you of his return. Almost slamming into multiple people, you had to practically yell at yourself to slow down and walk towards Wayne Tower at a normal pace.

***

His back was turned to you as he greeted a man in a crisp gray suit into his office. Dang, you thought. Just the site of him however made you instantly calm down. Walking to your own office, you sat in your comfy desk chair and tried to keep busy by shuffling papers. Finally you leaned back and closed your eyes for several minutes until you heard a familiar ding on your computer and a little box popped up in the lower right corner.

Come to my office when you have a moment.

Please.

-Bruce

The please was because you had jokingly scolded him one day about needing to be polite, even on the company messenger system. He always added it now as an inside joke. You highly doubted he remembered to say it to anyone else, even as an afterthought.

You gathered a folder and some random papers you needed his approval on and made your way to his office. Leaning over his secretaries’ desk as you had done multiple times a day for the past few years now, you pushed the button that would buzz in his office letting him know someone wanted in. The familiar click of the electronic door unlocking signaled to you could head in without him even questioning who it was. Grateful to see his head was down as you walked towards him, it was ridiculous your face felt so flushed.

“I’m guessing you have a pile of very boring crap waiting for me to sign.” He finally looks up from his desk and his smile starts to fade.

In one fluid motion he stands and scoots his chair back. As he stood, you were still making your way towards his desk. As you started to slow down, reaching it, he was already around it and meeting you face to face.

"Actually, it’s very important crap that..” but by then he was already kissing you. Not hard and forceful, but almost with a sense of need. You slightly backed up, breaking it.

“I’m so sorry” he quickly spilled out. Looking almost horrified with himself.

“No, I just, uh, wait, what?” you started to giggle as you often did when you were nervous. He looked at you with sadness and worry that he had just misread the tension between you two for months now and acted in a completely unprofessional way,

You watched it all flash before his eyes before quickly saying, “No no! Please don’t, I mean…Could you do that again?” Before he could think about it, he stepped forward and this time put his hand gently on either side of your face as he brought you in as he kissed you again. This time there was no doubt that it was needy.

As you stood there for what could have been several minutes, you dropped the papers you were holding all over the floor. His arms moved to your waist and back as yours went to his neck and hair. He must have turned you from where you were because you could feel the front desk edge bump into your thighs. Almost sitting on it you heard a beep, shattering the moment.

Without saying a word to each other, you bend down to the floor and start collecting the papers as he reaches over his desk to push the call button to his secretary's desk. “Give me just a minute. We are still discussing some business” he cooly says without sounding as flushed as he looks. “Very good Mr Wayne” you hear back.

You are setting the papers down on Bruce’s desk as he makes his way to sit again. You don't make eye contact but he clears his throat. You turn to walk away and as you almost reach the door you quietly hear him.

“I missed you” he says with almost a pleading tone.

You turn your head back to look at him, softly smiling. “I missed you too” and walk out of his office.

****

tiny side note. I've written on my main a few times but nothing huge. If you liked this, I understand why some things don't get rebloged but if you could comment what you liked possibly that would really help me improve my writing. Thanks for reading!!! 💕 💕💕

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #bale!bruce wayne #bruce wayne #keaton!bruce wayne #pattinson!bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the batman

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prettyyoungandbored · 9 months

Note

I know your requests are closed but for when you have them open up can you please write a part two to this? I loved it and only just found it!

https://www.tumblr.com/prettyyoungandbored/693080581256462336/can-you-please-write-some-more-christian

Here’s to you, to everyone who gave the one shot some love, and to the movie’s 15th anniversary.

Pregnant [Bale!Bruce Wayne]: Part 2

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warnings: Takes place after the events of “The Dark Knight” so major spoilers.

Sequel to this story

NOT MY GIF

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/N opened her eyes, welcomed by the soft touch of moonlight peering through the bedroom window.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty and still untouched, indicating he had yet to come to bed.

She wasn’t surprised nor concerned, having spent years dealing with his Batman patrol. Even after Bruce gave up being the masked crusader and the two settled into Wayne Manor, there were some nights he spent wide awake.

Realizing she wouldn’t get some sleep for a bite, she threw off the covers and padded quietly down the hall into her baby’s nursery.

Damian Wayne was born in August and quickly became the apple of his parent’s eyes. He was the perfect blend of Bruce and Y/N and the happiest baby in the world.

The glow of the nightlight from inside the nursery peered into the hallway, indicating the door was open and that Bruce was more than likely in there. Sure enough, that’s where she found him. He sat in the rocking chair, cradling their sleeping baby boy in his arms.

“Look at my favorite guys,” Y/N cooed quietly. “Was he crying earlier?”

Bruce nodded, giving her a small smile. “I was up anyway. Figured I’d let you rest.”

She took a seat on the foot stool facing the chair, admiring the view in front of her. “I love seeing you with him. It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

“I could say the same about you,” Bruce remarked. “I love watching you walk around the manor holding him.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his. Even after all this time, his gaze made her melt into a puddle.

“Remember when I told you I was pregnant?” she brought up. “How terrified I was?”

Bruce’s chuckled. “It was the greatest thing you’d ever said to me. Besides, of course, ‘I do.’”

The memory played out in her head. “I spent the whole night fighting the urge to put my hand on my stomach. I didn’t want anyone to know.” She paused. “By the time I was about to tell Rachel, you threw me into a closet.”

He let out a small laugh. “I threw you into a closet to save your life.”

“Yes you did. Saved both of our lives.”

Bruce’s smile faded softly as he shifted their focus to their son.

Y/N avoided bringing up his Batman days, knowing that the end of it nearly killed him. It took him a long time to come back from it, and even then he still wasn’t fully back.

“You…” her voice trailed off

His eyes met hers. “What?”

“You’re still my hero. Despite everything, you are and always will be. Bruce Wayne was my hero before I knew about Batman.” She paused. “And as far as Damian is concerned, you’ll always be his.”

The soft gaze on his face nearly broke her. It was as if he’d waited a lifetime for someone to say that to him. His attention shifted to Damian.

“When you told me you were pregnant, I knew right then and there it all had to end,” he said. “My father spent more time fighting for the city and while he was present for me and my mother, it still was his biggest concern. I wasn’t gonna let that happen. Not with what happened to them.”

His eyes met hers. “I will always regret the way it ended. Always. It will haunt me for as long as I live. But walking away will never be something I regret. If it keeps my family safe, that’s all that matters.”

Y/N pulled back her lips, fighting the tears that pooled in her eyes. She knew he didn’t want to end it the way he did. Not when it cost two lives.

“Has it really been a year?” Y/N spoke up, a slight tremble in her voice.

Rachel’s death plagued the couple enough that by the time the one year anniversary had come, they were all cried out. Still, it hung over them throughout the day. The couple made a silent agreement to avoid acknowledging it.

That was until now.

“It has,” Bruce answered. “Still feels like yesterday.”

Y/N exhaled. “I think about her every single day.”

He reached his hand over, giving hers a squeeze as if to say he did too. He still couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he found other ways to express it that Y/N understood.

“Thank you,” he said. “Without you, I don’t think I would’ve survived.”

She squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have survived without you either.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

#bruce wayne × reader #Batman #bruce wayne imagine #Batman fanfic #christian bale × reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne fluff #the dark knight #bale!batman

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westwing19 · 7 months

Text

Wanderlust [2/4]

#kirby #dark meta knight #making a series of these knorbs in random scenery #bc I like making stuff in sets too much #was imagining DMK waving his sword and the biggest blade ever shoots out from the ice surface 😎#meart

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veveisveryuncool · 2 months

Note

Shadow vs meta knight who will win

that's a tough one

i always thought they'd be cool friends though :]

#imagine both having dark color schemes and a rival turned friend and trying to dominate the planet #and having a loyal and dedicated crew that acts as your family #and being overly confrontational and beginning to fight the protag every time you see them #kirby series #meta knight #sth #sonic #shadow the hedgehog #veves ultra cool art #ask

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riotinyellow · 9 months

Text

call me a gatekeeper or delusional, but I don't like how you lot are switching up on cillian Murphy, couple months ago you were calling him ugly and Comparing him to oli London

what changed ?

#he is definitely not the first actor to go through this im just using him as an example #this hollywood cycle is so draining to keep up with i cant imagine how it feels to be in it #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #Patricia kitten braden #the dark knight #breakfast on pluto #dc universe #jonathan crane #kitten braden #inception #robert fischer #a quiet place part ii #emmet #28 days later #jim #oppenheimer

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nocturnest · 1 month

Note

The y/n that nervously asks if she can marry Jonathan instead of death or exile, would be the opposite of Jonathan, she’s shy and sweet, and Jonathan would find her puppy dog eyes to be so cute that he can’t help himself but to agree which is why he’s just like, “Hmm. Interesting. Why not”

@kpopgirlbtssvt This is one of my absolute favorites now! ahhh! please enjoy!

In the dimly lit chamber of an abandoned courthouse, Jonathan Crane, Gotham's infamous Scarecrow, held court with an air of authority that sent shivers down the spines of those gathered before him. The room buzzed with nervous anticipation as citizens awaited their fates, their faces drawn with fear and uncertainty.

You, amidst the sea of anxious onlookers, found yourself unable to contain a nervous laugh as the tension in the room weighed heavily on you. You were on trial for attempting to steal from the city's food stash, which Bane had accumulated for criminals and the like. It wasn't exactly your fault - you were desperate. You just wish you hadn't been so foolish to have gotten caught.

As you were shoved into a brown leatherback chair, you observed your surroundings. Criminals of all kinds gave you harsh looks of disgust and disapproval. They looked practically ravenous and hungry for a new form of entertainment, which some of them had found in you. Their attention made you uncomfortable.

You gazed up at the stand and your eyes widened in surprise. You'd heard rumors, to be sure, but you had never seen Jonathan Crane in person. And even from afar, you could see the bright blues of his eyes, like a beacon of hope in this horrendous situation that you found yourself in.

He looked bored, glasses in his hand as he cleaned its lenses. A lackey of his taps him on the shoulder and Jonathan rolls his eyes, putting his glasses on to read the papers in front of him.

He clears his throat and announces your name, which sends shivers down your spine. His voice was gravelly and hoarse from yelling yet calming all the same. You find yourself wishing you had met him under other circumstances.

"Guilty of attempting to steal food from the people of Gotham. Now what will it be, Death or Exile?"

"Isn't there another option?! I mean...can't I just marry you instead?" you blurted out, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. Your attempt at humor was feeble, a desperate bid to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.

To your surprise, Jonathan's sharp gaze snapped in your direction, his pale blue eyes glittering with intrigue. "Hmm, interesting. Why not?" he responded, his voice carrying an unexpected hint of amusement.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected reply, your mind reeling with disbelief. Surely he couldn't be serious. But, before you could gather your thoughts, Jonathan pressed on with his characteristic bluntness. "Would you rather death or exile?" he inquired, his tone matter-of-fact yet oddly playful.

Caught off guard by his question, you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent response. "...No," you managed to mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Great," Jonathan exclaimed, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "Exile! By marriage."

With a swift motion of his gavel, Jonathan sealed your fate. He beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand, his expression betraying a hint of sly amusement.

You padded across the room cautiously as a wave of confusion swept across the spectators, who watched in bewilderment as Jonathan Crane orchestrated an impromptu wedding ceremony in the midst of what was supposed to be a trial. As you approached the judge's area, the whispers of the onlookers swirled around you like a whirlwind of uncertainty.

Jonathan took your hand in his. It was soft and warm. The emotions in his face were guarded but you could see what seemed like sympathy in his eyes, as if he knew you knew how you were feeling - with being married to a complete stranger and all that.

Though, you weren't entirely complaining...Jonathan was much taller up close and practically towered over you. Not to mention, he was quite attractive. His eyes were as clear as ocean waters and his brown hair looked so soft that you fought the urge to run your hands through it. His suit was tattered and feathers were sewn into it, its cut tailored remarkably well to his figure.

As you stood beside Jonathan, his grip firm yet oddly comforting, he began to recite the vows with a surprising eloquence. His voice, smooth and commanding, filled the room as he spoke of love, commitment, and partnership. You found yourself mesmerized by his words, drawn into the enchanting rhythm of his speech.

As the ceremony continued, you couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, standing in a courtroom turned makeshift wedding chapel, about to marry a man you barely knew—all under the watchful eyes of a room full of criminals.

And yet, despite the unconventional circumstances, there was something undeniably captivating about Jonathan. His confidence, his intelligence, his sheer audacity—all combined to form an irresistible allure that left you spellbound.

As Jonathan pronounced you husband and wife, a sense of disbelief washed over you. You stole a glance at him, unable to suppress the awe flickering in your eyes. How could one man possess so many talents, wear so many hats? Psychologist, villain, minister, judge—each role seemed incongruous with the next, and yet, Jonathan Crane embodied them all with effortless grace.

As the ceremony concluded, Jonathan flashed you a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes sparkled with mischief as if he knew the effect he had on you. You gave him a shy smile in return.

Your brief moment of peace was interrupted by Bane, who had a foreboding presence about him. He was large, and the breathing mask that masked most of his face intimidated you.

Suprisingly, he seemed to be in good spirits, his deep voice booming, "Now is a time for celebration! Let the newlyweds have the day off and trials shall commence again tomorrow."

As Bane's booming voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. With the trials postponed, you and Jonathan were free to escape the chaos of the courtroom and retreat to the sanctuary of his world.

Jonathan led you out of the courtroom, his hand warm against yours as he guided you through the labyrinthine corridors of the building. As you stepped out into the crisp night air, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Bane's presence had cast a shadow over the proceedings, his intimidating figure a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of Gotham.

But as you climbed into Jonathan's car and he started the engine, the tension began to melt away. The warmth of the car enveloped you, cocooning you in a sense of security as Jonathan navigated the familiar streets of the city.

As Jonathan drove you through the bustling streets of Gotham, you couldn't help but get lost in your thoughts. What now?

Jonathan's voice broke the silence, his tone gentle yet reassuring. "You're safe now," he said, his gaze flickering to meet yours briefly before returning to the road ahead. "I'll make sure of that."

You offered him a grateful smile, though the weight of the situation still hung heavy in the air between you. The thought of being married to Jonathan—albeit in name only—was both exhilarating and daunting. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer with each passing moment.

As you arrived at Jonathan's surprisingly luxurious apartment, you couldn't help but be impressed by the opulence of his surroundings. The spacious living room was bathed in warm light, casting soft shadows across the elegant furnishings.

The warm glow of the lights bathed the room in a comforting ambiance, momentarily easing the tension that still lingered in the air.

Jonathan led you further into the apartment, his demeanor calm and collected as he gestured for you to take a seat on the plush sofa. As you settled in, he turned to face you, his expression thoughtful.

"Listen," Jonathan began, his voice gentle yet firm, "about what happened back there... The marriage isn't official unless I make it so. I don't have to, but only if you want me to."

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "But why would you even consider it?" you asked, confusion evident in your tone.

Jonathan's lips curled into a sly smile as he tilted his head, his gaze piercing yet playful. "Ah, now that's the question, isn't it?" he replied, his voice laced with intrigue. "Why were you so ready to marry me, hm?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Jonathan's playful gaze seemed to penetrate straight through you. "I... I don't know," you stammered, feeling completely out of your depth. "I mean, it was just a joke... I didn't think you'd actually..."

Jonathan chuckled softly, his laughter echoing in the quiet apartment. "Perhaps it was more than just a joke," he mused, his tone teasing yet strangely sincere. "After all, why else would you propose marriage to a man you barely know?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, unable to meet his eyes. "I... I guess I was just caught up in the moment," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're... you're not like anyone I've ever met before. And when you looked at me in the court, I don't know, something just... clicked."

Jonathan's expression softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his eyes. "You find me intriguing, don't you?" he observed, his voice low and measured. "Admit it, there's something about me that draws you in."

You swallowed hard, unable to deny the truth of his words. "Yes," you whispered, your admission hanging in the air between you. "Yes, there is."

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Then perhaps this marriage isn't such a far-fetched idea after all," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the city outside. "But only if you want it to be real."

Jonathan's fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was searching your soul for answers.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "I don't know what I want," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I do know that being with you feels... different. Exciting, even."

A soft smile graced Jonathan's lips, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and something else, something deeper. "Then let's take it one step at a time," he suggested, his tone gentle yet reassuring.

You couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through you at his suggestion. "Dinner sounds wonderful" you replied, your voice tinged with anticipation.

Jonathan was methodical in the kitchen. You insisted on helping him, but he assured you he could manage. Rather, Jonathan urged you to explore his bookcases after hearing you mention that you enjoyed reading.

He directed you to the room that he considered his library. At which you muttered, "Of course, you have a library." He merely grinned at that. Even though you had just met the man, the room seemed so remarkably him.

The library was a reflection of Jonathan Crane's meticulous nature and intellectual depth. As you stepped into the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to the hundreds of books lining the shelves, meticulously organized by genre and subject matter. There were classics, modern literature, and an extensive collection of texts on psychology, each spine neatly aligned in perfect rows.

The air was imbued with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings, creating an atmosphere of quiet reverence. Soft light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the countless volumes that filled the space.

You ran your fingers along the spines of the books, marveling at the wealth of knowledge contained within their pages. Your gaze lingered on a particular title, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, a classic novel that seemed to echo the complexities of the world you found yourself in. You had read it countless times before. You, like Raskolnikov, had found yourself on trial for criminal acts, except that stealing food and committing flat-out murder, like Raskolnikov had, weren't exactly comparable. Nevertheless, his story of redemption and overcoming guilt after such an act continually resonated with you.

You settled into a chair and found yourself whisked away into the novel. Lost in thought, you barely noticed Jonathan's presence until you felt his eyes on you. Turning, you found him leaning against the doorway, his expression unreadable yet open and somehow inviting. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you.

You marked your page with a spare slip of paper you found in your pocket (rather than dog-earing the antique book like a heathen) and felt Jonathan's gaze upon you.

"Find anything interesting?" he asked, his voice quiet yet filled with genuine curiosity.

You turned to face him, holding up the copy of Crime and Punishment. "Just considering some light reading," you replied with a hint of amusement, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his presence.

Jonathan chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "An excellent choice," he remarked, stepping further into the room to join you. "Dostoevsky certainly had a way of delving into the depths of human nature."

You nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie in your shared appreciation for literature. "It's fascinating how universal and timeless his insights are," you mused, trailing your fingers along the rows of books.

Jonathan's gaze softened as he watched you, his expression thoughtful. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of what might have been nostalgia. "There's a certain comfort in knowing that some truths remain constant, no matter the passage of time."

He reaches his hand out, inviting you to join him for dinner. You place your hand in his. You and him discuss your lives and interests over dinner and it feels like you have always known each other.

It's late. You don't quite know what time it is, and all you do know is you can't sleep. Rain patters on the windows of what is now your room. You have a nice view and notice that the city is less lit than usual. It seems that most people have either fled or gone into hiding, if they haven't already been taken by Bane's men.

You can't help but feel unease. Maybe it's the whole situation, or being in the menacing presence of Bane, even if only for a short time. But you can't help thinking about your apartment or the friends you haven't seen in months. You wonder if the elderly neighbor of yours who you often check on and her cat are alright.

You pad through the room feeling chilly. You pull on the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Jonathan gave you some of his clothes in the meantime, or at least until you both can stop by your apartment for your things. You're thankful for him being so accommodating but have a small internal voice that tells you that you're intruding, that you're a burden to him.

As you approach Jonathan's room, you hesitate at the doorway, feeling a sense of guilt for even considering disturbing his sleep. But then you remember the kindness he's shown you, the way he's gone out of his way to make you feel safe and comfortable. With a soft sigh, you push open the door and step inside.

Jonathan stirs from his slumber as you enter, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His hair is tousled and his eyes are like beacons in the night. There's a moment of silence as he takes in your presence, his gaze softening with understanding.

"Can't sleep?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, unable to find the words to express the turmoil swirling within you.

Without hesitation, Jonathan lifts the covers beside him, inviting you to join him. "Come," he says gently, his expression warm and inviting. "You're not intruding. I want you here."

You hesitate for a moment, your shyness holding you back. But the offer of comfort is too tempting to resist. With a grateful smile, you slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a protective shield against the darkness outside.

As you nestle against him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long time. And as you drift off to sleep in his arms, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

@kiss-me-cill-me hope you enjoy this take on the dark knight rises court scene!

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow #the dark knight #the dark knight rises #nolanverse #the dark knight trilogy

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