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ssweetleaf · 3 months

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doll parts.

summary: you agree to let dr crane experiment on you for ‘scientific purposes’.

jonathan crane x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, based on this ask here <3, dub-con, clit play, fingering, overstimulation, kinda innocent!reader, doctor kink, jon being a condescending ass, unprotected p in v

˖ ࣪⭑

When you agreed to let Dr Crane experiment on you, you certainly hadn’t had anything remotely crude on your mind. A few tests, you thought, maybe he’d take your bloods— anything to help his scientific studies along and you agreed to be his little guinea pig for the day.

So, when he had you undress and get upon his silver operating table, it was quite the shock.

“Push your knees up to your chest,” he hummed, having you hold them in place while he analysed your pussy, “gotta make sure these tests are thorough, don’t wanna miss a thing.”

Jonathan ran a knuckle through your folds watching them flutter around his digit and coat it in your sweet slick, clit throbbing in anticipation just waiting for his touch.

“D-Dr Crane,” you stuttered out, finding it hard to keep your mewls choked down when he used a thumb and forefinger to spread you open, inspecting you even deeper. “I don’t think this is appropriate.”

You didn’t notice the flicker of a smirk that lifted his mouth before he pouted at you, mocking you, though you had no idea.

“But you said you’d let me experiment on you, sweetheart,” he cooed, using his other hand to pat at your thigh, attempting to somewhat calm your heavy breaths and wide eyes. “It’s for scientific purposes, you know that.”

You bit your lip, unsure.

“For science?” You repeated hopefully, staring at him with glistening eyes, eager to help the young scientist in any way, even if it did mean touching your most private parts.

“For science.” He nodded, “now be a good little patient and let the doctor carry on with his tests.”

Your cheeks burned, but you nodded anyway.

“O-of course, doctor.”

You resumed your position, chest already heaving from the tense atmosphere, peering down at his trailing hands when they squeezed at the fat of your thighs.

Jonathan’s thumb and forefinger parted your pussy lips, opening you up for him and exposing the pretty little pearl of your clit. With his other hand, he pressed his thumb to it, rubbing in figure eights, watching your facial expressions and how they changed with such simple touches, soft whines escaping the confines of your throat.

His eyes flitted back to your cunt, watching your arousal seep with each circle of his thumb, your hole clenching, desperate to be filled.

So he did just that and slipped a finger inside you, curling the digit upwards as it hit the base of his knuckle, and he smirked when you gasped at the sudden intrusion, your wetness just letting him slip right in, having him easily add another finger on his outward thrust.

“Oh, doctor,” you breathed, clenching hard around his fingers, the crude squelching causing your cheeks to burn.

“How do you feel, dear?” He asked, the tips of his fingers prodding at the spongy wall of your g-spot.

“F-feels good,” you managed to choke out, bashfully meeting his smug gaze. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

A virgin, he thought. Of course you were, pathetic little lamb— with the way you shivered from just his words alone he should’ve known. Hell, it made him harder, cock growing and forming a tent underneath his slacks, throbbing hotly and just begging to be released.

“I’m so glad to hear it, dear,” he cooed, reaching up to pat at your cheek with his palm, a little too hard, though you were sure he didn’t mean a thing by it.

With each passing moment, your belly started to tighten, growing warm and tingly, butterflies were flapping around and you felt like you needed to pee.

“Dr Crane, I feel strange,” you pouted, tears threatening to ebb over your waterline, it felt so good, but so unfamiliar.

“Just let go, darling,” he said, “this is what I was hoping for— my tests are going absolutely splendidly.”

Before you knew it, your orgasm rushed over you, your slick gushing along his fingers and down his wrist, your pussy clenching and spasming around his still prodding digits and you heaved out sobs. The feeling was so intense, so good, you hadn’t realised anything could feel as good as what Jonathan had made you feel.

“Say thank you, dear, it’s only polite.” He was smirking, though you somehow mistook it for a smile.

You nodded your head, staring at him with big, glassy eyes.

“Of course,” you breathed, “thank you, doctor.”

You had started to settle, your breathing and heartbeat evening out, until Jonathan’s thumb pressed to your clit once again, rolling and playing with the sensitive nub.

You whined out, you didn’t think you had it in you to go again. You grabbed onto his wrist, clawing at his skin and gasping into the stuffy air.

“In our agreement you said you’d take whatever I gave you, correct?” He spoke, an unoccupied hand grabbing at your cheeks, your lips jutting out into a pout.

You nodded, eyes wide like saucers and you shifted from all the fondling to your poor clit.

“Am I correct?” He repeated, much more stern that time, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing from underneath his lenses.

“Y-yes, doctor.” You nodded.

“Well then,” he muttered, letting go of your face, directing his attention to your quivering cunt. “You’ll be a good girl and do just that.”

Quickly, another orgasm approached, simply by him playing with your abused little clit, urging you to cum for him and watch your hole quiver around nothing.

One after the other, over and over again, you came around his fingers and on his hand, your body heaving and jolting from the constant painful pleasure, he had to restrain you with a hand to your stomach, pinning you to the table and forcing you to ride out each orgasm.

Jonathan’s cock was painfully hard, and he reached down to palm at himself, smirking when he caught you staring, pussy fluttering at the sight.

“Now for my last experiment,” he pulled at his belt, tugging it from the loops and unzipping his fly, grasping at his cock, he pulled it from his briefs, pumping himself a few times, little beads of pearlescent pre-cum dripping from his tip.

You were babbling, completely inebriated from his touch— he was so long, and just the right amount of thickness, veins protruding along either side and underneath, his tip a pretty shade of red that had your mouth watering.

“Let’s see if you can take this, hm?” He mocked you, pouting down at your pathetic form, tears streaming down your cheeks, long lines of mascara staining your skin all the way down your neck. “M’sure you can— been so greedy for everything I’ve given you so far.”

He tapped his cock against your pussy, the wetness splashing up against your thighs, the obscene sounds of your sopping cunt had you blushing.

He pushed into you without a warning, to the hilt with no resistance, your creamy pussy letting him slip right inside, the mushroomed head of his pretty cock nudging at your spot so deep inside, even his fingers couldn’t reach.

Oh, you felt so full.

“Such a good little patient.” He groaned. “On second thoughts, I might need you to stay overnight— get a much more thorough examination.”

#jonathan crane blurb #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane imagine #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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hotdrinks · 4 months

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[ID: A grayscale bust of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives asleep together. Jon's head is on Martin's chest, his mouth hangs slack. He sleeps with his eyes open, his gaze is unfocused, his pupils shine red. A red outlined speech bubble filled with static noise and no words comes from him. Martin's hand rests on Jon's back, his brows are furrowed in his sleep. End ID]

A ko-fi req for Jon snoozing on Martin. But God forbid the creepy ever stops entirely amiright

#jonmartin #tma #jmart #my art #crit20 if ur reading this i have been inspired by ur jons nose #speech bubble kinda looks like its coming drom martins thumb I think thats fun

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morlock-holmes · 7 months

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Maybe this is appropriate for September, but I watched this joke when it first aired:

youtube

And as I approach late middle age I'm struggling to deal with the question not of how I deal with the fact that it happened, but with the fact that it didn't.

You just are never going to convince me that I'm as culturally different from the Zoomers as the baby boomers were from their WWII-era parents, and you aren't going to convince me of it because it is so incredibly, self-evidently untrue.

The reason I say this is appropriate for September is that after the 9/11 attacks some people tried to talk about the cultural death of irony and its replacement by the New Sincerity, which I now take to be an attempt to convince ourselves that the pace of cultural change wasn't slacking, but there was no New Sincerity, and the irony of the 90s continues unabated to this day.

After that Bush II created the disgusting morass of the Iraq war, and people said, "Well, at least we'll get some great protest art and comedy out of this".

I remember Jon Stewart talking about how it was fundamentally unserious to even suggest that the moral horrors of the 00s were worth it because we might get some good comedy out of it, and while that was a good point it kind of overshadowed the fact that, for the most part, the biting satire and artistically vital protest art didn't actually materialize at all.

Now we're trying to gin up this generation gap nonsense and we are on at least the third attempt of my life to cargo cult the moral and artistic vitality of the 60s back into existence.

But man, like, that radio tower is just a stack of bamboo and that headset is made of coconuts.

#i will die on this hill #philosophy #discourse #generation gap #Youtube

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vampzyke · 7 months

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୨୧ , jon snow x FEM!reader. ( 1.7k )

imagine... you, a young servant of house stark, teaching jon snow the sweet, yet innocent act of kissing. and finding out just how eager he is to learn.

tags making out, crush, innocence, first kiss, friends to lovers, season 1

AS NIGHT FALLS throughout Winterfell, lit lamps wither away along with the hushed whispers of winds. It's a melody you wish to hear more often as your stay here in the North begins to drag.

More often than not, your ears tend to ache at the shutters of metal against one another when frequenting the Forge; or when tasked by one of the Stark children to fetch an apple, where you're greeted by a dozen women huddled together in secret, gossiping to one another about Winterfell's latest whore. You loved the girls dearly, but feared that maybe one day you would be the topic of their conversation.

With a content smile, you inhale greatly and exhale with ease as you sit outside the kitchens back in the brittle cold. Your surroundings are empty of others, only the wind to keep you company. Even as you feel your chest start to tighten around your lungs at the cool air, you stay seated and grateful for the silence on this star-filled night.

Eyeing the various critters crawling about, you jump at the laboured breathing of an animal ahead of you in the depths of the forest, before the small stature of a direwolf pup stumbles its way out of the ominous shadows and towards you. You hadn't noticed it at first, the thick white coat of fur complemented its snowy surroundings.

As the wolf yields closer in clumsy strides, your eyes widen in knowing as those red orbs of it become clearer.

The name of his is faint on your lips, "Ghost?". And before your limble frame is aware, the pup has thrown his warmth onto your lap. You giggle in turn, scratching earnestly at the back of Ghosts' ear just the way he prefers it.

The way Jon does it.

As you busy your hands with the pup, your shallow breaths forgotten as the cold seeps into your skin, you glance around the woods in hopes of finding the brute man you dream off.

"Now tell me, Ghost. Just where is your broody friend?" You ask the pup, who in turn just laps messily at your face. Distracted, you fail to hear the large boots of the man you mustn't fancy, and the sudden dip of the floorboards beneath you.

"Behind," A gravelly voice huffs out against the back of your exposed neck. The finest of hairs stand on edge as you're suddenly aware of the warmth intruding in on your space, like a lone fire in the depths of Winterfell's worst nights.

You're yet to yelp in shock, accustomed to Jon's dire way of greeting you. He took joy in teasing the poor servant girl who never thought to send out a complaint to Lord Stark; to which the man took great advantage of, you were his only friend after all. Whom else could he mess around with other than his elder brother, Robb?

"Y/N, you're practically naked with those kitchen rags on," he sighs, Jon is no longer crouched behind you, and instead stands tall in all his glory besides you. You still have not uttered a word to him yet, nor could you now. As you gaze up his length, your jaw slacks unwillingly at the sight of him.

Some days you found yourself enamoured with House Stark's bastard son.

You, along with a maiden of Lady Sansa's, spent your breaks eye-fucking him from across the courtyard as he trained with his brother. Jon would dorne tight clothing on those days which defined his toned arms in the sun's favourable rays. The sweat would glisten against his flushed skin; it was, oh so tempting to just lick off. The two of you girls would let out boisterous laughs at the dirty idea from where you sat on the courtyard's curb. And before long another servant would pull you by your ear angrily, complaining about time and whatnot as you would spare one last glance at Jon before tasked with yet another bore chore.

Only during his and Robb's spars would he acknowledge you in public. Robb was the only Stark who knew of his brother and your friendship; he was positive the people of Winterfell would talk if Ned's bastard son and a poor servant girl were out frolicking together. So Robb kept quiet. He never commented on it and never thought to spare a look at you. You were sure he hated you.

Jon reassured you that the eldest Stark son just loved to be a dick, and was most likely jealous of the fact that he had another to call a friend; in Robb's words, 'a fine lady'.

You had blushed at his words.

Robb Stark was a fine man, you along with all of Winterfell knew this. You would have to have your eyes gouged out to not see it.

But now, as your eyes trail Jon's stoic form, your heart beats with a skip in its mellow thump. Jons face never gives away his emotions, though maybe that is exactly what you find endearing about the young man. He stares down at you with a look of tiredness, stripping himself of his fur coat.

You raise an eyebrow at him, protesting, "I have no need of your coat Jon, it is fine!" You reassure all too easily, though the chattering of your teeth gives you away. Jon clicks his tongue, before draping the large warmth of his coat over your smaller stature.

"It does not seem like it." He shrugs, avoiding your teary eyes from the cold. All you could do was hum in acknowledgement, mind hazy at the thought of him giving you his coat in worry. Your face flushes, though Jon is all too ignorant as he decides to sit beside you on the curb, watching off into the distance with a brief frown.

Suddenly, Ghost nudges you with a dirtied paw towards Jon, as if on purpose. You shake your head at the silly idea. Without realising, you let out a whisper of a giggle.

"What is it?" Jon turns to face you now, and as you sneak a glance you catch the faintest of freckles gathered around either corners of his eyes and how his mess of dark hair curls to frame his pale face. You realise suddenly, just how close he is.

Jon does not seem to notice, or perhaps he does, but has no concern over it.

With strained confidence and courage from a white paw, you shuffle ever so slightly closer to Jon. The man just stares at you with a look you cannot describe, and a terrible feeling gnaws within you. Why must he just stare? Is that a look of disgust? Oh, what am I doing?

Battling your inner turmoil, you miss the way Jon looks you up and down, biting his bottom lip as if instinct when he stares upon your beautiful face.

"Y/N?" He says it almost too quietly, but his breath fans your face with how close the two of you are now. It is silent all around, even the whistles of the wind do not interrupt this moment. You turn to face him fully now, though the bottom half of your face stays well hidden beneath the large heaps of fur. You are embarrassed yet intrigued to know what Jon chooses to do next.

With his index finger, he tugs lightly at the fur beside your cheek, testing the water. You continue to stare dumbly, as he asks shyly, "May I?".

The words are stuck in your throat at the sudden vulnerability from him. You have never seen this side of Jon before. As you go to nod, he almost pulls back with a hitch in his breath with how long you take to respond.

Hastily, you shout out, "Yes! Yes." He does not look convinced even as you tug the fur down to reveal a timid smile. He returns it, though the ends do not meet his eyes.

You let out a sigh. You had ruined your chance with Jon Snow.

Then, as if waiting for the drama, you felt a push from behind you. You did not need to see to know who exactly it was. Ghosts' tiny paw nudged you once more, as if the pup was irritated at this charade.

With another ounce of confidence, you grabbed either side of Jons questioning face. You could feel the roughness of his beard, and that was all it took for you to regain your composure before looking up at him through glazed lashes.

"Jon," you spoke. He waited with uncertainty as your grip on his face loosened. "Is this okay?"

All he could manage was a slight nod, distracted by your enchanting eyes.

"Okay." You repeated, before leaning down to meet his bruised lips. From the way he sat rigid against you, you were sure this was his first kiss. Soon you were worried though there was no protest from his end. It seemed as though Jon wanted you to lead. And as his tongue swiped over your top lip, you took that as your confirmation.

With not an ounce of shame, you shuffled to sit on his lap, wrapping your thighs around his fine torso. Now comfortably, you began to deepen the kiss with your tongue. Your hands moved away from his face and found themselves tangled within his hair. And with growing confidence, Jon soon wrapped his arms around the bottom of your waist, nearing your ass. His fingers teased at the fabric there, unsure.

As your tongues danced together, you dragged a palm down his front sensually, to which he let out a pitiful moan you could not help but swallow, before stopping atop of his uncertain hand above your waist. With loving guidance, you moved his hand ever so slightly towards the plump of your butt. His thick yet lanky fingers grazed against it, and with uncertainty he pressed down at the soft flesh. You were still clothed, but you could feel the heat emitting from his fingers.

You gasped into the kiss, pulling back for needed air.

"Was it something I did, Y/N?" Jon asked with worry. You could only laugh at the young man and his wary conclusions. With a shake of your head, inhaling the cool air to steady yourself, you whispered. "Not at all, Snow."

The corner of his lips tugged upwards with ease; and all you could do was watch with a feeling of need sprouting within you. You were eager for this man to ravage you, though there was a lot to teach.

There was no sound of complaint from you, as you felt him knead your ass with certainty.

Jon was a quick learner, after all.

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got imagine #asoiaf imagine #fem reader #jon snow imagine #jon snow x you #jon snow drabble #x reader #fanfiction #got fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x you

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squeeneyart · 5 months

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[Image description: A digital greyscale lineup of five characters, from left to right: Jonathan Sims, a stern-looking, medium-skinned shorter man with shoulder-length greying hair in a white button-up with a tie and dress slacks and shoes gripping a tape recorder; Martin Blackwood, a nervous, tall light-slinned fat man with glasses and long hair in a loose ponytail in jeans, converse, and a black t-shirt under a white button-up; Tim Stoker, a calm, smiling, tall fat man with dark pushed back hair in a similar outfit to Jon but with tennis shoes, and a manila folder tucked under his arm; Sasha James, a tall dark-skinned woman with long, wavy hair and glasses holding a laptop case and wearing a sweater and white skinny jeans and flats. She seems to be saying something while smiling; Melanie King, a slightly shorter dark-skinned woman with dark curly hair and one side of her head shaved wearing a polo shirt and jeans rolled up showing her ankles and dress shoes, gripping her phone and looking exasperated. End ID]

felt like doing a character lineup, so tma season one archive staff plus melanie it is

bullies jon and melanie by giving them the same shoes

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #melanie king

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madlittlecriminal · 9 months

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OMG I loved the cockwarming blurb 😩 Could i make a request for Scarecrow? Jon is super focused on paperwork in his office at home. Of course it's better to be safe than sorry, but reading over the same documents for a third time is getting to be boring, and it's stressing him out. As a distraction, you start stripping, massaging shoulders, kissing his neck. Anything to get his attention. you end up riding Crane's thigh as a hail mary, which DOES get his attention... 🥴

Pay Attention ↦ Jonathan Crane × Female!Reader

not gonna lie, i got hot thinking about this...lol but thank you! im glad you loved it! :D

Warnings: smut, thigh riding, soft dom!jonathan (i think? he sounded a bit more dom than i actually planned), dirty talk, praise

Jonathan was officially bored of reading the same document over. He's read it three times already and the words were starting to blur together. "Jonathan?" He heard you ask softly from his office door. "Hmm?" You sighed and rolled your eyes at his response. "Are you okay? You've staring at that document for the past 30 minutes." You tilt your head to the side just to be met with another "hmm." If there was one thing you hated was being ignored. "Are you ignoring me, Jonathan?" He didn't say anything as he played with his pen while reading the document. You took a deep breath and took your shirt off, hoping it would grab his attention.

You were met with his eyes still glued to the paper.

You took off your sweatpants, tilting your head to the side as you got closer to him since he still wasn't looking at you.

You walked up behind him and started massaging his shoulders. He didn't protest as it did release some tension he felt. "Aren't you tired?" He didn't respond as he took a deep breath, enjoying you massaging his shoulders.

You huffed out a breath as he did, so you began kissing his neck, hoping it'll get a reaction out of him, but no. He sat there as if nothing was happening when usually, he'd go insane when you'd kiss his neck. You nodded, removing your hands from his shoulders and undoing your bra and removing your panties.

"Jonathan?"

"Hmm?"

You moved his desk chair lightly before sitting on his thigh. "What are you-" Jonathan quickly stopped talking when he was met with your naked figure on his thigh. "Oh now I have your attention!" He gulped, shaking his head and going back to the paperwork. You slightly grinded on his thigh, causing him to gasp. You were wet, but not as wet as he knew could get. "Baby," your eyes met his and he gave you a smirk. "What are you doing?" You shrug, grinding against his thigh again. "Are you having fun?" You nodded as you bit your lip. He put the document and the pen down, leaning back in his chair watching you grind yourself on his thigh.

"You look so pretty when you do that, you know that don't you darling?" You let out a small giggle, making him bite his lip. "You need help, don't you my needy girl?" You nodded. His lips met yours, kissing you passionately as he rested his hands on your hips. You returned the passion of the kiss, your fingers tangled into his hair.

He guided you to move on his thigh as his hands never left your hips. He broke the kiss, biting his lip as he looked at you with hooded eyes. "God, you're beautiful. Keep going, baby and don't stop until you come on my thigh." You moaned softly, grinding against his thigh a little harder, causing him to groan. He knew you needed more pleasure, so he smirked before he started bouncing his leg, making you gasp. "Oh fuck!" He hummed in pleasure. "That's it, darling. You're such a good girl for me." You moaned as he leaned over and began kissing your neck while he continued to bounce his leg with his hands still on your hips.

You tugged on his hair as you continued to grind on his thigh, moaning his name. Your wetness soaked through his slacks, making him groan at how wet you now were. "Such a good girl for me. I can feel you dripping on my thigh, darling." From his dirty talk, the praising, the vibrations from his leg and his hands on your hips, you couldn't take it anymore. The knot in your stomach snapped, causing you to let go of his hair, gripping the back of the chair as you came on his thigh.

He stopped his leg bounce and looked at you with a smile. "Hey," you snickered at his single word, catching your breath as your head rested on his shoulder. "Hey," he planted a kiss on your forehead after you responded. "Do you think you have energy for another?" He fixed your position before getting up with you in his arms before placing you on the desk. With a nod, you look on the desk and push the paperwork to the side. "Don't wanna ruin the paperwork do we?"

"Fuck the paperwork."

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane smut #smut #x reader #dc universe #asks #ask #anonymous #anon asks #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #scarecrow x y/n #anonymous asks

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slut4thebroken · 1 month

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Erotomania pt. 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon isn’t adjusting as well as you thought he would and his behavior finally breaks you.

Warnings | Angst, violence (on accident lol), blood, eating disorder? (technically), slow burn, a lil bit of sexual tension, he’s still really mean, and a little whiny lol.

Words | 4.3 k

Notes | Ty for everyone who helped me out w this lol.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

gif: @kittenonpluto

Part 1

The following morning, you woke up to your alarm and immediately turned it off. Your head hurt, your eyes felt puffy, and you were just so tired and drained. So you decided to call off work. As you were trying to fall back asleep, you almost didn’t register the sound of your door opening because of how tired you were.

“You’re going to be late.” You whined and buried your face in the pillow.

“I’m not going.” You mumbled.

“Get up. I don’t want to be stuck with you the entire day.” He said sternly, bringing back all the emotions you were feeling last night.

“I’ll stay in here then. I don’t exactly feel like doing much else besides this.” The bitterness in your tone was mostly overshadowed by the sadness you were desperately trying to hide. You waited for his response, but after a while, he just slammed the door shut.

True to your word, you mostly stayed in your room. You left to go to the bathroom and sometimes get food, but you didn’t eat with him. The day was spent reading, doing some work to make up for missing a day, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t make yourself cry, and moping. Every time you went out he was always in the exact same spot. Before dinner, you showered and changed into some clean pajamas, not wanting to physically feel the same way you felt mentally.

“Have you eaten today?” He almost seemed startled by your voice. “If you tell me what you want, I can try to make it.” You said softly. He didn’t respond or look at you and you sighed before continuing. “Why aren’t you eating?” You were quickly growing frustrated with his behavior.

“You’re the psychologist, you tell me.” Deep down you knew why, especially based on his words yesterday, but you were still hoping it would be because of some kind of temporary hunger strike or something instead.

“You’d really rather die than be here with me?” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke.

“Yes.” He spat and you immediately frowned as your bottom lip trembled.

“Fine.” You grabbed a carving knife from the knife stand and stormed over to him, making him quickly stand up and take a step away from you. Once you were a few feet from him, you tossed the knife onto the ground in front of him. “Do it then. If this is so terrible and you hate me so much then just fucking do it.” He stared at the knife and you waited impatiently.

“Or better yet, kill me.” That made him look up again. “I know you want to— and I can’t fucking take this anymore so just do it.” He stared at you, then narrowed his eyes.

“Are you serious? My rejection is making you suicidal?” He scoffed. Your eyes burned with tears and you rushed forward, making him step back, but you reached for the knife on the floor instead of him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Now that it’s in your hand, you don’t know how you should do it— The carotid should hopefully be quick. When you raised the knife, he rushed forward and grabbed your arm, yanking it away from you.

“Stop!” You cried, pulling back against his hold, trying to wrench yourself free.

“Are you fucking crazy?” He asked, beginning to raise his voice now. His grip on your arm tightened as his other hand tried to take the knife from you. When you let out a choked sob and started crying, your arm went slack and the force of him pulling it away from yourself made your hand fly toward him. He couldn’t stop it before the blade sliced the top of his chest, making you gasp as he winced. He released you and staggered back, and you dropped the knife as if it had burned you.

“Oh god— fuck. Are you okay?” His hand was pressed tight to the wound so you couldn’t see how bad it was but the pain on his face was evident. When you moved toward him, he stepped back again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Even through the pain, his tone was still incredibly harsh.

“I- I’m sorry. It was an accident.” You took another tentative step and he did the same, but his back met the wall. He leaned his weight against it and took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered shut. You quickly wiped your tears and tried to calm down long enough to think of what to do.

As you examined him, you noticed the blood seeping through his fingers as his arm grew tired holding his hand tightly against the wound. You also noticed how pale and sweaty he got in that short amount of time. He was putting as much of his weight on the wall as he could now.

Deciding to start with the imperative, you moved closer until you were in front of him and removed his hand to look at the wound, then put pressure on it. It wasn’t… that bad— it wouldn’t need stitches, but it still almost made you gag. He winced and opened his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t just imagining you daring to come this close.

“Get the fuck.. off…” His words slurred together and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open. When his knees buckled, you tried to hide your distress, but that and the blood seeping through your fingers made it almost impossible to do so.

“Okay.. okay, hang on.” You looked around for something to absorb the bleeding but there was nothing nearby other than a blanket that you haven’t washed recently. Tentatively releasing him, making sure he wouldn’t fall, you took your shirt off— feeling incredibly grateful that you decided to wear a bra— and pushed it against the wound. He let out a pained groan and your heart panged, knowing you were only worsening his suffering. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to press hard though.” He didn’t respond and just started sliding down the wall as his eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.. fall on the couch, fall on the couch,” You held him up and guided him to the couch just as he lost consciousness.

You could feel his chest moving under your hands so you knew he wasn’t dead, you were just worried about how to solve the malnutrition issue while he was unconscious. It’s not like you have an IV… so you’ll just have to wait until he’s awake.

Lifting your shirt from his chest, you checked on the bleeding— it was definitely less, but it was still bleeding a decent amount. So you continued pushing down on it. While you waited, you let out a heavy breath and closed your eyes. That escalated so quickly, it felt like you’d been holding your breath since you picked up the knife.

After a few minutes you checked again and decided it would be okay for you to run to the bathroom to grab a few things as well as some water and painkillers really quickly. When you returned, you kneeled on the couch next to him and tried to lift up the shirt he was wearing. Since it was yours, it was already a little tight on him, so it barely moved, especially because his back was against the couch.

Minding the gash, you carefully took both sides of the now cut fabric and pulled as hard as you could. It ripped a lot easier than you were expecting though and was now torn from the collar to the bottom hem. You cleared your throat and tried to keep your eyes on the wound, but couldn’t help it when your eyes strayed to the exposed skin. You could distinctly see the outline of his sternum and ribs and you stifled a gasp as you pushed the shirt open more— no wonder he passed out, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.

The sight of blood trailing down his chest snapped you out of your trance and you made quick work of using the damp washcloth to clean as much of the blood off as you could. When he wakes up, you’ll have him go to the bathroom so he can wash with soap and water, but for now you covered it with the largest bandaid you had, then sagged back into the couch with a heavy breath, just needing a second to calm down.

After what felt like hours but was only about 15 minutes, he woke up with a groan. You grabbed the water bottle and took out three pills, having them ready for him. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright light, and he scowled when he saw you next to him.

“Take this.” You held it out to him and he looked down at his chest, then let his head fall back into the couch again as his eyes closed. “Please take it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“How did I get here?” He rasped, voice strained.

“You passed out and I wanted you to fall here instead of the floor.” You wanted to reprimand him for not eating but you knew now wasn’t the time. It almost seemed like he wasn’t taking the painkillers out of spite, but after a moment, he huffed and held his hand out. You handed everything to him and he only drank enough water to take the pills.

“You have to drink it. The whole reason you passed out is because of how malnourished you are.” You urged gently.

“The whole reason I passed out is because you stabbed me.”

“Jon, please just drink it.” You said, exacerbated. All he did was glare at you so you let out a disappointed sigh and stood up to go to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as you started pulling things out and cooking. You weren’t exactly sure what the best option would be for malnutrition and blood loss, but you figured something with high protein and iron would be a good start.

When you walked back over with a plate of grilled chicken breast and steamed spinach, he raised his brows as you held it out to him. You were pleased to see that while you were busy, he did drink some of the water.

“What?” He asked, when you just waited for him to take it.

“You need to eat. Clearly you don’t want to starve to death since you tried to stop me so just quit being so goddamn stubborn and eat the fucking food.” Your tone got significantly harsher by the end of the sentence and he almost seemed shocked. After a moment, he huffed, but took it from you anyway. You sat down next to him and tried to ignore how the smell of the chicken was roaring your stomach back to life.

“After you finish eating, you should clean it with soap and water.” You said quietly. “I can help if you want.”

“I’m fine.”

“I haven’t used that knife in ages, it wasn’t exactly sterile. You need to clean it or it’ll get infected.”

“I’ve had worse.” Now that you weren’t focused on the large gash, you could see a few scars on the exposed skin of his torso.

“Fine.” You stood up and left to grab two clean washcloths, a bottle of soap, and a bowl that you filled with water. When you walked back over and set the items on the coffee table, he narrowed his eyes and scowled at you, watching you get down on your knees in front of him. You reached for the bandage and he circled your wrist in a bruising grip. So you moved your other hand forward and he did the same thing, but winced when the motion made his shoulder shift. “If you let me do this I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“We’re not going to fucking play nurse. I can do it myself.” He spat.

“I believe you. But I don’t believe that you actually will.” You challenged, making him roll his eyes with a scoff. “The quickest way to get rid of me is to let me do this.” He clenched his jaw and looked away from you for a moment, then released your wrists, letting you continue with your original plan of removing the bandage. When you ripped it off, he hissed in pain and you glanced at him nervously. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

You hesitantly pushed the shirt open a little more, worried it would make him snap, but he just glared at you, letting you do it. Once you had enough room, you dipped the washcloth in the water then squirted some soap on it and worked it into the fabric. Getting up on your knees a little more, you shuffled closer, ignoring the feeling of his leg against your side— or… trying to, at least.

“I'm sorry again.” You said quietly as you started cleaning it. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” When you looked up at him, he was still watching you carefully, his guard fully up. “I’ll see if I can get something stronger for the pain when I go back to work.” You let your focus move back down to the task at him, trying not to blush under the heat of his gaze.

“That’s illegal, you know.” He murmured, sounding uncharacteristically… neutral.

“So is breaking out a criminal.” You countered. You didn’t really like talking about him like that though. Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but anyone failed that many times was bound to walk away without their sanity completely intact.

“You think I deserve to be in there?” He asked after a moment of silence. You couldn’t decipher his tone and you looked up at him again, his eyes a little softer now.

“I don’t think anyone deserves to be in that hell hole.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Your hand slowed to a stop, resting against his chest.

“I think… given your history, it would’ve been a miracle if you grew up “normal.’” You said quietly. “I think you deserve to be in there for the things you’ve done, but not just to be imprisoned, to get help.”

“If you’re going to survive there, you need to learn this sooner rather than later; the people in there have no remorse for what they’ve done, and neither do I.” He warned.

“I can’t let myself believe that.”

“Those people don’t want to be saved. I mean seriously, did you think our little talk sessions would change me? Make me a better man?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown.

“I hoped they’d help you work through your trauma. After that? I wouldn’t need to do much else.” He scoffed at that, all but rolling his eyes.

“You think I don’t know how to identify the root of what made me so fucked up?” His voice was back to the viciousness that you’ve started getting used to.

“No, I think you do know how to identify it. I just think you don’t know how to overcome it.” You said calmly, trying not to agitate him any further.

“I do not need to be lectured about trauma by someone who would’ve been my subordinate.” He snapped.

“I’m not lecturing you, Jon. And don’t you think there’s maybe a reason why you’re getting so defensive right now?” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose.

“Fine. If you’re so interested in psychoanalysis, why don’t we talk about you then?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,”

“Your need for my praise and approval is almost pathetic.” He cut you off, making your mouth instantly close. “You’re so fucking desperate for it— Why do you think that is?” He tilted his head slightly and you swallowed the lump in your throat, barely able to look at him. “You break down at just the slightest amount of rejection. I mean for fucks sake- you literally tried to kill yourself because of it.”

“Stop it, Jon.” You said quietly.

“C’mon.. I’m sure you’ve heard of something that fits that description, even if it’s not an official disorder.” He said facetiously. “Personally, I think I’d just use the word “delusional.’”

“That’s not what this is! I love you.” He raised his brows and gave you a knowing look, so you doubled down. “Being in love does not make me crazy.”

“No, it doesn’t. But kidnapping someone and trying to kill yourself because you were rejected certainly does.” You paused and tried to control your expression so he didn’t know how much his words were affecting you.

“I didn’t.. kidnap you. I got you out of there, like you wanted.” You said quietly. “And having you here is keeping you safe from being found and sent back to Arkham again.” He scoffed a disbelieving laugh and looked away from you. So you sighed and resumed cleaning the wound.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep at night.” He muttered, making your frown deepen. You looked at him for another moment, then sighed and tried to finish cleaning quickly.

Once you were done and another bandage was in place, you got up and headed toward your bedroom. You searched your closet for something he could wear, but the only thing you had that he’d be able to get into easily was a zip up hoodie. So you grabbed that and walked back out, which he clearly wasn’t pleased with since he probably thought you’d be gone longer.

“Lean forward.” You said softly, sitting next to him to help put it on, making him scowl.

“I can dress myself.” He spat and you sighed, but agreed, watching him struggle to get it on. Eventually, he succeeded and you leaned back on the couch when he continued eating, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t make him uncomfortable. “Are you planning on staying half nude?” Your entire face heated up when you realized you’ve yet to replace your shirt. You were just so anxious and upset that you didn’t even notice it.

“N-no. Sorry.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly and you stood up to go grab a shirt from your room. He was on the last few bites of food when you walked back out. “Are you feeling any better?”

“It fucking hurts.” He grumbled. You checked the time, seeing that it was already past seven.

“I can try and go right now to get you something for the pain.” You suggested and he scoffed in response.

“Do you want to lose your job?” That made you frown— you just wanted to help. “You stop by after hours for whatever reason and eventually they notice something’s missing and you think you won’t be made the primary suspect immediately?”

“Okay, I get it.” You sighed. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.” You looked away from him as you thought of what else you could do. There aren’t any over the counter pain relievers that are any stronger than what you already gave him. “Wait,” You suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I don’t know if you have a preference but either way it should help. It affects the central nervous system so the pain doesn’t seem as bad,”

“I know how it works, I’m not an idiot.” He snapped. “But you must be if you think I’ll willingly intoxicate myself around you.” Even though his words stung, you tried not to take it personally and just move on from the insult.

“It’ll help, Jon.”

“I don’t care.” You sighed, then walked back over and sat down again, keeping your eyes on your lap. You felt horrible. The only reason he’s in pain is because you were acting irrationally.

“I know it won’t make it better, but I really am sorry.” You said quietly, chancing a glance at him.

“I thought you promised to leave me alone if I let you play nurse.” He huffed.

“Right. Okay, I’ll… I’ll go.” You cleared your throat and tried to hide your disappointment as you stood up. “If you want to shower, there are towels in the hall closet.” You offered. When he didn’t respond again, you sighed quietly and went to your room to leave him alone.

You woke in the middle of the night and tried to go back to sleep since you had to be up for work in a few hours, but you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something happened while you were asleep. Like the wound was infected and he was dead.

That thought was a little extreme, but it was enough to get you out of bed to go check on him. He was asleep, laying on his back, and you moved closer to slowly unzip the jacket enough to see it. He hadn’t bled through the bandaid and you gently lifted a corner to see inside. Everything looked fine. At least you thought it did… You’re not that kind of doctor.

When you zipped it back up, you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, not angry or full of hatred. You wished he’d look like that all the time.

Once you were satisfied knowing he wasn’t dead, you managed to fall back asleep. When you got up again, you somehow woke up fully after the first alarm so you were about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. You walked into the kitchen, still in your pajamas, and saw that he was awake this time.

“Do you want some coffee? Actually,” you knew he wouldn’t answer it like that, “how do you take your coffee?” He scoffed a laugh and you couldn’t help but blush even though he was clearly laughing at you, not with you.

“Black.” Was all he said, but it made you smile so big that it almost hurt your cheeks. It felt like you were finally getting somewhere with him. Walking over with two mugs, you handed one to him, then sat down, much to his displeasure. “Don’t you have to get ready?”

“I woke up early.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “You need to eat and quite frankly I don’t have many options here so I’m going to stop somewhere after work. What do you want?”

“I’m fine.” He muttered, drinking the coffee and keeping his eyes straight ahead instead of on you.

“That’s not what I asked.” You said firmly— you had no clue where this boldness was coming from. He looked over at you with raised brows, almost… impressed.. by your audacity. “There must be something you’ve been craving since being in there. Tell me what it is and I’ll get it.” He huffed but seemed to understand that the quickest way to get rid of you is to just answer.

“There’s a Southern place in Otisburg, right across the street from the Botanical Gardens. I don’t have a preference, I like everything they have.” You smiled, happy that you finally got a real answer out of him. Even though it’s out of your way, you’re excited that he actually shared something with you and agreed to eat.

“Perfect. I can stop by the store too. Do you want anything specific for breakfast or lunch?”

“Eggs.” He said simply, almost making you laugh.

“Eggs it is. Anything else?”

“What you have here is fine.” At least that means he looked and considered eating.

“Do you like the coffee? Or should I get a different one.” He huffed, clearly getting annoyed with your questions.

“It's coffee.”

“Well, I like blonde roast. I don’t know if you prefer dark roast or something.” You said defensively. He didn’t answer so you assumed that meant he didn’t care what kind of coffee you had. You checked the time and decided you could sit here for five more minutes before you should start getting ready. You didn’t want to bother him so you just stared out the window, smiling at the way the morning sun was peeking through the buildings. If you ignored the very obvious contempt he has for you, this moment could’ve been perfect.

“Does it still hurt?” You asked, turning to face him and blushing when you noticed his eyes were already on you. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’d been caught though.

“Not as much.” He finally looked away and took another drink.

“Do you think you still need something stronger than what I have here?”

“I’ll be fine.” His tone left no room for argument, but you could tell he wasn’t being truthful.

“Okay…” You said, still unsure. “Can I just check it really quick? Then I’ll leave you alone and go get ready.” He let out an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes, annoyed by your concern. But once again, he seemed to understand that the fastest way to get rid of you was to just agree.

“Fine.” He grumbled, leaning back on the couch. You set your mug on the coffee table and scooched closer to him, getting on your knees on the couch so you could fully face him. You slowly reached for the zipper as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment. He didn’t say or do anything as you unzipped it and pushed it aside. You lifted half of the bandage and leaned closer to get a better look as your fingers delicately ran over the skin around it.

“It looks like it’s scabbing.” You said absentmindedly. “So that’s good at least.” When you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed how close you’d gotten. You also noticed the way his eyes snapped up from your body to your face. You blushed, now hyper aware of the small, thin pajama set you were wearing. Clearing your throat, you quickly zipped up the hoodie again and leaned back. “It— Try to wash it today please.” He almost looked amused by your flustered state. “I… I should— I’m going to get ready now.” You quickly grabbed your mug and stood up, practically running to your room.

Part 3

Again, sorry it’s cut a little awkwardly lol. This was written as a one shot.

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