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starzblvd · 7 months

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Hang on to Your Love

Feelings kept secret can’t stay a secret forever when other people get in the way. Fem!reader Jealous!Ellie Jackson!Ellie hint of loser!ellie purefluff CW!creep ass man makes a short appearance 5k W.C AN; Originally this was going to be a short cute story but I really wanted to give with this one, because I LOVE fall. Really sorry for being gone so long, I got a bad haircut and I swear some negative energy was clinging onto me, so it made me insane for a bit. I move on so I’m better and thriving again now though💕

Autumn was in its early days still beginning to settle into Jackson, the cooler evenings accompanied by the refreshing winds that brushed over your skin. The perfect season for a dance to be sprung onto. Flyers hung around town, you’d seen it was set outside at 7:00 a little while after the sun set four days from now. It wasn’t necessary for you to arrive with a partner for the dance, but if given the chance you already knew the perfect candidate to fill the position in mind.

Initially you wouldn’t take her to come around to these sort of events. Come to change, a few days earlier you’d coincidentally happen to over hear Ellie’s conversation with Jesse and Dina outside the Tipsy Bison. Heavy reminiscence on her last comment about the Autumn dance,

“Just because she’d be there, it won’t change anything, not interested in going. Most we’ve talked is a few passing ‘hey’s’.”

It was disheartening to hear her talk about some girl you didn’t know,

Small pieces of her life that you were able to get a glimpse of, made being around her all the less intimidating. How enamored the high skies of space Ellie was, the type of video games she’d bring back, or even the clothes she dressed in. There wasn’t much to go off of when you’ve hurt to have a complete conversation with Ellie.

Regardless Ellie was right even if it wasn’t about you, most spoken words between you weren’t much nor meaningful. If it was anyone besides Ellie you wouldn’t be mulling over so long if you should bite the bullet and ask her out. To you she was everything you’d wished for, having feelings this intense was nauseatingly tiresome. With each day that flew away sleeping on the idea of taking action to get to know Ellie, felt like opportunity slipping away just as time is. You couldn’t expect her to stay single for long, she’s dated previously what’s stopping her now?

”You and Ellie are partners this time round, good with that?”

Maria thought it’d be good to group you with a girl that knew what she was doing while doing it exceptionally well. Expect you’d hate to be such a crutch to Ellie because of the delayed training you missed out on, of sheer fear that stemmed from being sheltered too long.

”yeah, no problem.”

There wasn’t anything to have a problem with if you’d just excuse your need for Ellie. Up to this point she didn’t completely disregard your existence, small occurrences like holding out the door open made you believe she’d think of you in the slightest, enough to be polite to.

The thought of spending time with Ellie alone even with the circumstances outside of Jackson’s security was exciting to look forward to. Preselecting topics and materials to make small talk with, patrol isn’t an ideal time to get to know someone better but you’ll take what you can get in these circumstances.

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Brightly in a red marker ink circle enclosed the date of the patrol date with Ellie on the calendar pinned above your nightstand, marked day being today. Dressing up particularly cute wouldn’t do good in terms of practicality, but you had other reasons for dressing so. You weren’t naive of the terrors waiting, lurking, outside of Jackson’s walls just as anyone else was. Your choice of outfit for today were bootcut jeans with ribbons shaped into dainty bows tied to the belt loops. A ribbed long sleeved top in a solid color of brown, the bottom of the sleeves were flared out while the rest of the shirt stayed close in a snug fit.

Maybe you had arrived earlier than settled on, surely, because Ellie was starting to become a no show. Perked up right besides the stables doorframe, facing towards the inside, counting the minutes go by. Dina’s distant voice broke the fluid count of time you’d been mentally ticking by. Anyone would’ve been able to tell she was being so quiet intentionally with her hushed tone while speaking to someone else. You weren’t meant to hear her nor the words of advice she was aiding, but you couldn’t help being a standby could you?

“She’s been waiting for you in there for a while now! Seriously, you can’t stall any longer without being suspicious.” Dina knew exactly what this was about, Ellie’s whole unwillingness to go out on patrol with you was painfully obviously.

“I know I know, but I just need a bit longer and I’ll get right to-“ hearing the detest Ellie was expressing felt disappointing in a way that made your heart ache.

“No, Ellie. Go over there already, standing over here isn’t going to change anything.”

Ellie’s sigh was louder than their entire conversation. Then the words you were hearing so clearly became tedious whispers that had you leaning closer to decipher, with no luck as to knowing which one was speaking.

They couldn’t possibly know you were listening in, right?

Calm anticipation couldn’t overcome the hurdle of sudden nervousness when footsteps became closer. Thing was, you knew Ellie’s footsteps and the approaching steps didn’t belong to her. You’d turned back to face outside though not to Ellie, but to Dina’s consoling face.

”Ellie’s caught something and she’s stuck sick at home right now,”

it was all crap, every single word. Seeming so against you that she couldn’t stand having to go on patrol with you, Ellie lied about sickness as a get a way. Standing there silently to question every short moment you’ve encountered her, trying to recount if you did or said something wrong to ward her off so strongly.

“Oh well, that’s okay. Tell her I said to get better soon.”

You didn’t mean the condolence, the small smile you responded Dina with didn’t help in hiding that fact. Especially not when Ellie was probably snug inside by now spending her new found time freely, relived of being able to opt out so suddenly. This was by far the most embarrassing stand up you’ve been able to experience, as much as you didn’t want to be affected by her flakiness it irked you just as much if not more in efforts of trying to shrug it off.

Dina nodded and excused herself first, at least she was aware how childish Ellie was handling the situation. At times like these it was so easy to be jealous of Dina, how close her bond with Ellie was. Being able to spend time with Ellie by watching movies or just having her as company were few of those reasons. Though you were never mad at her for it. More so at yourself for letting your feelings keep you from making any move.

When Dina was out of view from where you stood, you followed out feeling defeated. The marked calendar felt like such a foolish thing to do, how excited you became when you could tick off another day, getting closer to the patrol.

It was debatable if the walk back home to the mess that was an outcome of frantically scrambling to figure out your outfit, or waiting so excited like a hopeless lovesick fool was more embarrassing. Had you kept to your own business you would’ve been able to cope in ignorant bliss, unaware of Ellie’s determination to avoid you. Crushing any unfortunate leaf that happened to be in your way on the ground with heavy steps was the best you could do to express how upset this made you.

Of course she had no obligation to happily spend her time with you, but the extent of Ellie’s actions was doing more than enough to prove her dislike. Reflecting just on today, it was evident you’d have to settle for a new dance partner.

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Ellie groaned into her pillow when she heard extensive loud knocking, already knowing who it was and why it was for. You were right about Ellie being snug inside, leisurely painting on the floor beside the short coffee table, using the time she was meant to be with you to practice a hobby.

If it was possible, Ellie would have prolonged opening the door to her garage room to escape Dina going off on her. She rubbed her eyes using her thumb and index finger, this was punishment for not dealing with you today, rather she’d have to deal with Dina’s confrontational lecture. Right upon unlocking the door Dina began,

“Seriously Ellie, what’s gotten into you.” She’d allowed herself inside, taking her designated spot on the couch. Looking down onto the table, there sprawled out next to different paints in jars and a messy paint pallet was a painting Ellie was spending careful time to finish. It looked more detailed than any of her previous paintings, paint strokes still wet from recent application creating the girl on the canvas.

“Hey I dodged a bullet by doing that, I wouldn’t have been able to put in all my concentration,” now it was Ellie’s turn to be embarrassed.

Her skills were truly ones to be boasted about, but faltered the moment she was stuck partnered on patrol with a pretty girl. The girl she’s kept her eyes on from the first day of her arrival.

Of course Ellie made a distinct entry that day, made sure to not leave any detail out about your appearance or the way you’d greet others that day, including her. Describing just how sweet everything about you was, so sweet it distracted from what you told her, she’d failed to listen to the first words between you two.

Now it was acting all tough until the moment Ellie’s emotions become overwhelming, clouding both her judgment and competence. She knew exactly what she felt, but tried with everything to disregard it all because of the fear that rejection would hurt much more sourly than never confessing at all.

”Don’t start now, she looked hurt when I broke it to her that you’d called out sick.”

“Maybe she was looking forward to exploring around or something-“

“No Ellie, she was excited to see you.”

The sheer question if you looked at her back with the same feelings sent Ellie over the edge. She kicked up her foot, cracking the knuckles of her fingers one by one. How much time has passed and your relationship with Ellie hasn’t progressed at all? She’d be lucky to even call it a relationship, small talk was a hard thing since the first years of you being in Jackson.

”yeah well, you don’t know that for sure.”

Ellie slumped her back onto the bed looking up at the wooden ceiling, the position she should’ve been if she was truly sick. Dina couldn’t bother to deal with Ellie’s stubbornness when the topic was you specifically. Because she knew Ellie was almost helpless when it came to you.

Exhausted from the topic of you by how much denial and stubbornness it’d be met with, Dina propped herself up from the couch before looking over at Ellie, spitefully replying to her small attitude,

“Oh I think I know, at least come by the dance go say hi.”

Upon Dina walking out and shutting the door Ellie kept her spot, the stunt she just pulled probably set her way back in means of getting more familiar with you. Letting out a low groan again, it was hard to decide to show up. Seeing you would only have her ridden with guilt. Ellie didn’t know to believe Dina’s beliefs or not. She was hopeful, but failed to be certain.

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Staring straight forward into your own reflection in the vanity was where your mind couldn’t rest on the long debate that was if going to the dance was still a good idea. Held up in knots going over each pro and con there could’ve possibly been, you’d already spent the time perfecting the look for tonight. Only to feel hesitant, and it was all Ellie’s fault. The few days after the incident, it was completely insufferable to face or hear any news about Ellie. Each time it would only make the feelings of embarrassment mixed with bitter defeat resurface.

“She shouldn’t be showing up anyways.”

Is what got you to settle on going out with the prerogative to have a little fun, determined to not let your crushed feelings take away from a good time. After all the wait for the dance it would be a spoil of time to stay in.

Because the party was outside people were more sprawled out, making it harder to see every single person attending. High hanging warm lights were strung from building to building in a zigzag pattern, they illuminated the incoming night that was creeping up. A table took space in the middle in front of everything, each spot of the table being covered with some sort of food or drink, leaned up on it’s ledges was Jesse and Dina talking to Joel.

Joel looked rough on the exterior with the way he would carry himself, but truly was a kind type at heart. You’d only gotten a few chances to chat with him, a little less than with Ellie. He’d only remind you of Ellie with how close they are, so you set it in your mind to clearly stay away from all three of them for the rest of the night.

A few speakers were synced together playing Sades Hang on to your love, just standing there cemented lost and doe eyed would do you no good. Staying home inside the comfort of your room would have been preferable, thinking maybe it would’ve looked a bit awkward to dance alone. Maybe you could ask one of the girls there you were friends with, amidst the cloud of thought a man invitingly lent out a hand. You’d seen him around a few times, wearing dark navy jeans and a black sueded cowboy hat, you accepted thinking you had nothing to lose.

In heaven’s name, why are you walking away?

Dancing with him was purely for fun, no strings attached to you, but for him, his eyes spoke that he was in it for something. Letting his hands cling to the sleeves of your shirt, his touch was a little irritating. Already starting to regret your choice to agree to dance, more specifically with a man. You tried to disregard the slight discomfort and continued to move along with his moves to at least entertain yourself by dancing. By now, the man’s hands on your arms begun steering you right to the center of the dance floor, which essentially was just an open dirt plot right in-front a certain table.

Hang on to your love

In a few footsteps he’d successfully made it close to unbearable for you to dance along now that you’ve made it to the prime viewing spot for everyone in the surrounding crowd. Uncomfortable with both his handling and everyones eyes set on the show he was making out of this. Of course in that crowd she had to be stood against there to that table, in those jeans that were starting to scuff from continued wear and fading flannel. Using quick stolen glimpses to catch the sight of Ellie when he’d spun you round.

In heaven’s name, why do you plays these games?

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide how distressed you were. Urgently wanting to escape only to bolt it back to your home. You were heating up because you knew by now, Ellie had been staring directly at you, visibly displaying exactly how unhappy she was with the situation. Crossed arms and legs, eyebrows dipping into a slight angry arch. Ellie was whispering something over to her right hand man, Jesse.

“Out of everyone here, why are they dance partners? It’s not like they know each other.”

“And you know that how?”

Ellie’s appearance at the dance was meant to solely be a quick passing, is what she swore to herself at least. Getting caught up in being witness to whatever you were found doing with that man had sidetracked her. Ellie knew from his stares he had intentions outside of having fun, nothing could be lead to coincidence with him especially. Ellie was aware of his reputation of going through plenty of women in short periods of time, immediately latching onto someone new after the last.

“Doesn’t matter, either way I can’t stop her.”

“How about getting over there and steal her back, or are you still hung up?”

Take your time if the going gets rough

The grip he had on you got tighter, he tried pressing his body further to yours by making a his hand placement lower to your hips. Every move he continued to act on making you all the more irritated. None of this is what you wanted, and Ellie’s stare only added fuel to fire. She didn’t want to go out on patrol together with you the previous day, why is she out of all people dishing out the judgmental looks?

so if you want it to get stronger you’d better no let go

“Your guess is as good as mine, I just can’t, be near her like that.”

For every thing Ellie wished she could do and say, is another longing stare of hers that graced you. Blaming the fear to approach you on the nausea effect that didn’t budge no matter what you tended to have on her.

“you’re not getting anywhere staring all crazy at her.”

Eventually the man had noticed how absent minded from the situation you were in, with your eyes glued straight past him clasped in his arms. Speaking up for the first time, some sparse voice pulled you back into the moment.

“Who’s got you distracted huh?”

hold tight, don’t fight

“Nothing, I was just zoning out a bit.”

He didn’t buy it, he reclined his torso back and away, allowing for an easier spin on his heel to see who had you so entranced just now.

”Oh come on not that dyke that came from wherever with her old man.”

Instantly he let go away, recoiling away immediately. His face had contorted into a disgusted expression directed at the both of you, Ellie for knowing and being Ellie and you for simply looking at Ellie.

“Men can’t get no breaks in this world.” A thick mouthful of saliva was spat onto the dirt next to your feet leaving from the center having you deserted there alone. A few surrounding people looked shocked looked at what had unraveled there while others looked away.

Hang on to your love

Ellie stayed put in her same spot, deciding it was better now or never to take your chances. Possessing feelings that felt too similar to love, only to hush and silence them away each night wasn’t getting any easier. Ellie’s eyes darted away the moment she saw you beginning to walk right over to her.

in heaven’s name, why are you walking away?

”Why didn’t you show up to patrol with me that day? I know you weren’t sick so don’t even use that excuse.”

Confrontation wasn’t your usual way of dealing with things, but the time spent conflicted as to feel about Ellie wore on you. One day you were swearing there was a chance for things to be mutual, only to change your mind the next.

“I don’t know where you’re getting at because I was sick.” To Ellie it was clear now that you heard everything she told Dina outside the stable.

“I heard you outside whispering you know, honestly Ellie what do you have against me?”

“Nothing! Look I did ask for her to cover for me, but it’s only cause I had something to do at home.” She slid her thumbs to hang out from the front pockets changing her stance to loosen.

”what we’re you so busy with?” You didn’t mean to come off as stern as you did, from then on Ellie started to sound less confident with each word that would come out her mouth.

”Something back in my room, it’s noth-“

“Let’s go see it then.”

Right then you start walking straight to her room, picking up your pace when Ellie called out your name behind you. You knew where she stayed at, catching her with Dina and Jesse walking in and out of the small shed that sat off to the left of the main house on a few occasions. Initially she didn’t believe you were serious, so she waited a while longer before starting to walk as well. Ellie caught up quickly but you were faster, sprinting closer to the door illuminated by the hanging light besides it.

Once you’d got ahold of the doorknob it easily opened to your luck, it was typical in Jackson to leave doors open because how people trusted one another as a community. Immediately you slammed the door shut upon putting two steps inside to Ellie’s room. With a quick click it had been locked to make sure she stayed out while you got to the bottom of this.

On the other side Ellie banged on the door with her whole palm repeatedly,

“Hey get the hell out!”

“I’m trying to see what was so important you had to ditch me and not tell me anything about it.”

”I’m sorry okay? I promise next time I won’t run out on you like that.”

She was basically pleading by now aware that you had the upper hand, you had every power to leisurely look through her whole life that was stored in her room. Standing there felt childish now that you’d caught your breath leaving you time to reflect what happened and what you did. Ellie ran over to the side of the shed to where the windows were, she put her hands up to the glass scanning the room for you,

“if you let me in now I’ll show you, I swear.”

She sounded sincere in her soft tone, rummaging Ellies room wouldn’t be right regardless how upset you were so you nodded and unlocked the door for her. Moving aside to give her space to walk in. Mumbling getting through she spoke again,

“Let me go grab it, it’s over by the coffee table.”

Now that everything calmed you could properly look around to see how Ellie’s room looked. The type of posters hung from the walls, above an unmade bed a cork board pinned photos of her friends and drawings adorned it. It was a little confusing why Ellie wasn’t mad or screaming for you to get out. It was pretty quiet in the small room, only a small faint strain of music from the party was keeping it from dead silence. The air was thick, closing in on the both of you.

“I would’ve showed you it if you asked without having to lock me out you know.” Ellie was still turned away from you, holding onto a medium sized board that she picked up from the rug. A few paintbrushes were drying on a towel next to the glass jar of murky grey water.

“No you wouldn’t,” lightheartedly you laughed trying to ease your nerves that arose from being alone with her away from anyone else.

“yeah,” returning a small laugh she turned to you, time felt slow in this moment as if everything itself was prolonged outside the rules of time with Ellie’s footsteps slowly approaching. Her laughter alleviated some of the tension the air carried.

Ellie didn’t say anything at first, she let you see what turned out to be canvas with you painted sitting down reading a book, propping your head up with your left arm on your knee with the book tucked into your lap. Never would have you guessed Ellie taken long enough to look at you long enough to get the amount of details she’d painted so perfectly. That’s exactly what you’d describe the painting her hands created, perfect.

“Ellie..” Lost in the soft colors that were painted into you, you were for certain on how you felt about Ellie.

With lack of response she was quick to defensively speak up, “You just looked like a good reference, I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything-“

“it’s beautiful,”

You were unsure what to say or even do, Ellie stood there looking back at you under your jurisdiction continuing to wait on you. She’d hate to admit what she was so scared about your reaction or rejection, because it was only then that the feelings would sink to only decay inside the pit of her stomach to linger. “Thanks,” Ellie’s composure was gone, visible by how nervous her smile looked. Considering how she took the effort to paint you, it was time to do something that had been long overdue. Putting down the painting to lean on itself against the wall freeing your hands, you find them a new place on Ellie’s shoulders. Slightly towering above you with her height, being able to see her up close in such a tender hold felt like a sweet of blessing.

”When I saw you for the first time I knew it was going to be you, and it has been since then.”

Ellie’s eyebrows cinched together in confusion unaware of the weight your words held.

”it’s been only you, nobody else has ever came close, because I like you the most.”

Ellies lips gapped open ready to let out to spill her unspoken words upon fully processing what you meant. She had wished to tell you that accumulated over time, except they only came out in silence.

Hearing your confession to her, was her own sweetest blessing. Instead of staying silent any longer Ellie let her actions talk for her, plunging right into a kiss. The muscles in her lips kneaded at your own desperately like to makeup for every kiss that was missed in the time that you could’ve spent together before today. Each passing day she could’ve only yearned to feel you as intimately as tonight. This was felt in the way she was making out with you now.

Leaning further into the kisses to savor the taste and smell you carried, and sure enough you were the same way, pushing further into her too. A strand of hair slipping out from the ear Ellie tucked behind tickled the side of your face.

Gasping for air after the both of you’d succumb to shortness of breath. Ellie’s lips were a softer shade of pink from the circulating blood by how much pressure she had used to press onto your lips. Before you could Interject again she plunged back into you, this time her trembling hands cupping the plush of your cheeks, which then stabilized themselves on you. you didn’t resist Ellie’s lips, rather you moved at the same rate. Her left hands fingertips slightly callused by the guitar Joel had gifted. Each kiss was passionate, becoming more sloppier and quicker paced than the last one.

Nothing else mattered here against the warmth that radiated from Ellie, her pulsing heartbeat was felt by your own chest. Through flesh and bone, you could’ve sworn your hearts could feel the love you both shared for each other. You knew perfectly in your mind that this was meant to be, and Ellie had loved you ever since you fell too.

Ellie gently pulled away to whisper in that hoarse soft voice, “This better than dancing with him?”

She sounded so tantalizing, having you in her hands all to herself. No one would ever be able to have you the way Ellie did, and for that she felt prouder than ever. The doubt for any connection that could’ve been there in the days and years prior to today, was overcast by Ellie’s pure bliss right now.

You smiled while pressing foreheads together, letting the air from Ellie’s breathing fall onto your face. Chests falling up and down in a few seconds of quietness before replying, “Better than you could ever know.”

“Oh I think I do know,” squeezing you tighter followed smaller frantic kisses below your eyes, between your eyebrows, and cheek. You reflected her actions onto each bronze or dark brown freckle Ellie had scattered across her face.

Finishing, Ellie pulled you to walk to her bed by her hands connected behind your neck, bringing you down top of her on the spring mattress. Cheeks lifting up to reveal smile lines that you managed to bring out so easily. You held yourself up by your forearms with Ellie sandwiched in between. A warm lit lamp and the small slips of light from the dance in the distance outside were the only forms of light source in the room. Night had casted over the sky, and the moon coating the world below in moonlight. Once a few seconds passed of enjoying the others presence by staring at each and every feature as to memorize them forever like a keepsake, Ellie cleared her throat to speak up.

”I want to be with you, properly this time I mean,” Ellie gazed right into your eyes endearingly beneath you. Her proper confession was in a form of a question you’ve been waiting on so eagerly for so long.

“I’d love that.”

Placing a small peck right on the tip of her nose, you laid down on her, letting your head fall to her heart. This moment would be the mark of something new, a new chapter in your lives. Not another person or soul could take this away from either of you, love continuing to grow deeper into your hearts.

#ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie fluff #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #tlou part 2

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acapelladitty · 1 year

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Whole Day Off: The Apartment

Word Count: 7k (nsfw)

Pairing: Jonathan Crane/Reader

Summary: One week has passed since the basement incident and emotions are still running high. However, a knock on the door announces a late night visitor and with Jonathan Crane now standing in your apartment, perhaps it was time for some answers.

(warnings for: mentions of assault, threats, oral sex, piv sex, groping, mentions of drugs, mild d/s undertones)

The thick branches of the overhanging trees are dense enough to almost obscure the moon fully from your gaze as quick feet snap the thin twigs which line the uneven ground. Panicked gasps break free of your lips with every pace as your body sprints through the trees of Robinson Park, the chill of the Gotham evening nipping at your senses through the thin dress which hugs your body like a second skin.

Twisting your head, the hulking form pursuing you grows closer with every passing second and terror grips your heart as your attention falters, and you stumble in place for a heart-stopping moment.

It was one hesitation too many and you yelp as something hot and violent slams into your back.

Knocked to the harsh ground with a pained grunt, the sound of ripping fabric alerts you to the fact that the hem of your dress is in tatters, but that concern is immediately squashed by a sobbing horror as the creature descends on your prone form.

Sharp claws dig into your exposed wrists, forcing them against the muck of the forest floor as a heavy weight settles against your stomach.

“No!” You scream, arms and legs kicking out at the monster which pins you in place with obvious ease. “No! Get off me! NO!”

“Yes, witty girl.” An inhumane voice emits from the beast, familiar and yet utterly unknown. “And now to take what is mine.”

Razor teeth clamp around your neck, piercing through the skin like it was little more than butter, and the pain is so intense that you cannot even cry out as the air is sucked from your lungs. As darkness touches at your vision, a bestial growl reaches your ears while the teeth pull free of you, ripping a chunk of flesh from your neck with them as a spray of warm blood splashes your upper body.

Gasping in terror as you bolt upright from the couch, your hands fly to your neck in an instant as you fight to stem the flow of blood from your injuries. Feeling no torn skin or wetness there, they drop back to your chest just as quickly as reality sets in.

A nightmare.

Nothing more.

The sigh which escapes your lips blossoms in the quiet room. One week having passed since your incident in the basement, the lingering nightmares which accosted you were sparse but intense with each one ending in a destruction which you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out the meaning of.

Glancing over at the calendar which hung over the sideboard, its pages splashed with various farmyard animals, you could easily make out the marked day which you were due to return to work. Highlighted by several, messy red circles, your paid time off had been much appreciated and a quick lie about a familial death had ensured that the time would be given.

You didn’t like to lie, but the truth would have been a much more terrible burden to bear.

The first day following your experience of a true batch of fear toxin was awful. Even a reduced dose which had been swiftly provided with an antidote still afflicted some side-effects and you had spent the majority of the hours trapped between your bathroom and kitchen sink as waves of nausea ebbed and flowed. Mild cramps were another inconvenience but the pain there was massively overshadowed by the fatigue which gripped your frame and made the small journeys across your apartment seem like a pilgrimage.

But, with a little painkiller and a hell of a lot of water, it had passed, and the rest of your time had been spent catching up with odd bits of paperwork and cleaning out cupboards and drawers within your apartment that hadn’t seen such meticulous care since you had moved in. It was a deep clean which had been needed and one that allowed your mind to focus on something other than the messy thoughts which were always on the peripheral, just waiting to sink their claws into your mood.

You had not spoken to Crane.

The temptation is there, even now as you glance over at your phone. It would be easy to fire off a quick text message. Just a few shaky taps of the touchscreen could draft something resembling forgiveness or a rejection and then the limbo which you existed within would be laid to rest, one way or another.

However, it was an impossible task since neither option was one which you were willing to commit to fully.

To reject him would be dangerous and you were not stupid enough to believe that you would escape from such a rejection without losing a pound of flesh. That possessive streak which brimmed just below the surface of his stoicism would not allow for you to escape him so easily and the hurt that a rejection would inspire would no doubt result in another dose of his toxin.

He wouldn’t kill you.

That much you felt confident in.

This whole mess was his mistake, and he knew that well enough to let you leave the basement without any further hassle.

You don’t want to leave him. A merciless voice whispers at you from within. Even after everything, you still like his company and what he can give you.

Grimacing at the difficult truth, you kick your feet off the couch as you stand from your seated position.

A rejection was not what you wanted.

But you were also not ready to forgive as there were still questions which needed to be answered.

Your kitchen is spotless, the scent of bleach tickling your nose as you pull open your pantry and snatch free something simple for dinner. In no mood for anything which required effort, the allure of some tinned soup and buttered bread was a siren call which you could not even pretend to ignore.

It’s a quick meal and within half an hour you find yourself crawling back on the couch, the pleasant warmth of your recent meal making you feel slightly more invigorated as you relax against the pillows.

Reaching down, you grasp at the nearby remote and flick the TV on, ready to lose yourself in whatever overproduced cooking show that Food Network had to offer.

“-officials say. Mayor Wright has yet to give a public statement about the incident but sources report that he is recovering well and will be available to speak within the hour. Both the Joker and Harley Quinn have been taken into custody by the Batman and will return to Arkha-“

Ah, fuck.

The news.

Zoning out of the ongoing newscaster’s speech, your eyes zero in on the headlines below as they quickly absorb the details of the story. A failed attempt to kill the mayor at his own birthday party. Saved by the Batman. The Joker and Harley Quinn apprehended and thrown back in Arkham where they belong.

Harley Quinn.

Everyone knew the story of Harley Quinn and her fall from grace to become of the most dangerous women in the city. All because she fell in love with a monster.

Discomfort settling into your gut as you continue to watch, your mind wanders once again to your own monster.

Was Crane as much of a monster as the Joker?

Every part of you wants to scream no at the accusation. Crane didn’t seek out pure chaos like the Joker did. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately and with such an obvious and irreverent joy. He didn’t kill children.

But he was a monster.

He tortured people with his fear toxin, forcing them to face personal horrors before allowing many of them to die by his hands. He used his skills to advance his studies in a way which had utterly destroyed the lives of so many people. He didn’t care about anything aside from his research.

It was a truth which sparked guilt. A guilt which you could only soothe by telling yourself that your relationship with him was separate to his other work. You did not help him. You did not encourage him. You were innocent of that, at least.

Laying flat on the couch, your hastily eaten dinner now sitting much more heavily within your stomach, the circumstances were perfect for another short nap and you didn’t bother to challenge the sleep which came quickly to claim you as you sink into oblivion once again; a vague hope that the nightmares would allow you a little bit of peace being your final conscious thought as the darkness crept in.

x-x-x-x-x

A loud knock at the door pulls you from your sleep with a violent start as your eyes fly open and your breath catches in your throat. Groggily looking at the small clock which sits by your TV, you can faintly make out the late hour and confusion twitches at your expression as you wonder who the hell would be calling on you at this time of night.

Smoothing out the longline t-shirt which serves as your loungewear, its hem falling to just above your knees, you shuffle to your front door as another loud knock makes you jump once more. Lacking a peephole, you palm the metal baseball bat which sits in the umbrella stand by the side of your doorframe as you hesitantly unlock the door, leaving the chain on to ensure that it cannot open more than an inch or so.

You pull the door open slowly, a neutral expression on your features as you prepare to call out whoever is there for such a late disturbance, but the neutrality is shot to hell by the shock which overtakes you as you take in your visitor.

Standing on your doorstep and casting a shadow which blocked out most of the dim light, Crane looked so out of place that it took your brain a moment to process that he was actually there.

“Hello?”

Such a lame response but one you stood by as your fingers flexed around the metal bat just out of sight.

“Good evening.” He responded, the simple words sending a shudder through your spine as the familiarity of his voice sparked an unfair reaction.

His thin frame was mostly covered by a deep brown overcoat, the material worn-looking and frayed at certain edges in a way that spoke of its historic use. Peeking free from beneath the old coat, dark slacks and a wrinkled brown shirt finished off his simple ensemble with the only strange thing being the slight bulkiness of his right arm; the limb covered by the coat.

Nothing happens and the lack of event is agonising as your mind whirls with the limitless possibilities of his appearance. He didn’t appear to be angry. Or sorry. Or even happy to see you. He revelled in his typical stoicism and it sparks a nervousness which causes your feet to shuffle against your cheap carpet.

“May I come in?”

“Can I trust you?”

The question escapes before you can think about it, and you freeze in place at how harsh it sounds.

To his credit, he takes it in his stride as he leans closer to your slightly opened door.

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

The slight movement on his part causes his words to wash over you and you can detect the faintest hint of whisky on his breath. He doesn’t appear to be drunk, his eyes holding the pinpoint clarity which often promised trouble, and so you relent.

Stepping back to close the door, you unlatch the chain before opening it to him fully.

He slips within your apartment like a shade, closing the door behind him with a gentle tap of his foot, and his brow quirks as he takes in the metal bat which is still clasped between the fingers of your left hand.

“Should I be concerned?”

“What? Oh-” Dropping the bat back within the umbrella stand, a slight flush of embarrassment tinges your cheeks as you feel the need to explain yourself. “I keep it there fo-”

“I’ve lived in Gotham City for many years,” Crane cuts you off with a cough, “and I would be more concerned by any obvious lack of protection. Have you considered a gun?”

“No.”

So thrown off by seeing him in the hall of your shitty apartment, you can’t muster the necessary wit to enjoy a back and forth with him; instead your thoughts land on the stupid t-shirt your wearing as another flush of hot embarrassment floods you.

Fuck it.

It’s your apartment.

“My living room is through here.”

You guide him through, indicating the single plush armchair which serves at the only other seating within your living room which isn’t the couch that you had just been asleep on.

“It’s too late for me to get you anything to eat. Do you want a drink?” You offer.

Seated on the armchair, his answer is a stiff nod and his eyes refuse to leave your own, even as you turn your back to him and go to prepare you both some drinks.

“I have water, Pepsi, red wine, or vodka. Pepsi as the only mixer.”

“Vodka will do.”

Your eyes squint at the strange label, the majority of the writing in some language you cannot read and so you go by the pictures which coat the front of the bottle.

“I think it’s peach-flavoured. Is that okay?”

A grimace tilts his lips.

“Red wine, please.”

The wine sloshes dangerously inside the glasses as you pour it out and a flinch overtakes your frame as a soft creak of your flooring alerts you to the fact that he has moved from his seated position.

Turning in place, you watch as he approaches your kitchen area and shrugs off his brown overcoat before dropping it in a messy pile atop your kitchen table. As the fabric falls, his thin hands delve within it to pull free something which makes the wine bottle still clutched within your hand stutter for a moment.

His fear gauntlet.

Anxiety spikes your heart as you glance between the gauntlet as his expression while he inspects the wrist of it quietly. Why would he have brought it? The answer seems obvious but something about his presence tells you that it is not meant as a warning.

“Should I be concerned?” You mirror his earlier question back at him as you keep your spine stiff.

“Always, but not because of this.” He places the gauntlet atop his overcoat as he fixes you with his gaze once more. “I am developing a new compound so the toxin hidden within the gauntlet is the only viable solution I possess at the moment. And I never travel through Gotham without at least one dose on hand.”

“Have you considered a gun?”

His lips quirk into a smile which disappears just as quickly.

“My history with guns is an interesting one. They have their place.”

Handing him a glass of wine, he accepts it with a polite nod before returning to the armchair. His wrinkled shirt is much more apparent now - the clothing in such a mess that you suspect he may have slept in it - as you follow him quietly and sit on the edge of your couch with your legs tucking themselves under your ass.

Your dressing gown is laying out on your bed and it would take less than a minute to go and collect it but you resist the temptation, not wishing to appear uncomfortable in your own home. The t-shirt wasn’t ideal but it was better than the underwear which had also been one of your main outfits of the week.

“This apartment is nice.” Crane offers with a deadpan glance around the small space. “Not what I expected of you but not cluttered with useless ma-”

“Why are you here?”

The question of the hour.

It would have been kinder to indulge his pathetic attempt at small talk but the roiling emotions which are barely being repressed within your chest demand their answers.

His response is just as sudden, any pretence of disinterest dropping in a moment.

“I wanted to see you.”

“And you always do what you want.”

“Yes.” His confirmation is simple and undoubtedly honest. “I very rarely consider others when making my decisions, even less so when it comes to their emotional needs. It is not in my nature to think of others before myself.”

“Well,” you pause, taken aback by the apparent honesty, “at least you’re aware of it.”

His long legs were not built for your cheap armchair and his hands came to rest on his splayed knees as he pins you with his gaze, the wire-rimmed frames barely hiding the intensity of his look.

Refusing to back down from the comment, you hold it without flinching.

“The decision I made regarding Sionis and my toxin was the best decision for me to make in that moment, but I understand that my actions wronged you in doing so. His presence within our space caught me momentarily off-guard and I reacted accordingly.”

Our space.

Whether he noticed that slip in his speech, you didn’t know, but you are content to let him speak and explain himself as a traitorous warmth spread through your veins at the mild acknowledgement.

“I regret allowing him to put his hands on you and hit you. That was ugly to me, and I took no satisfaction in his words or actions towards you.” Pulling the glasses free of his face to punctuate his speech, he folds and drops them to the arm of the chair. “I do wish I had intervened much sooner, but I never thought he would have been so bold as to do what he did.”

“I will not warn you again, leave my subject alone.”

The memory of his expression flashes through your mind and to someone who was not familiar with him, it would be easily to miss. But you had seen it. The barely restrained anger. The distaste.

Yes. He had tried.

You could give him that much.

“I appreciate that.” You relent, giving credit where credit was due. “Sionis is a monster and he acts like one, but what hurt me more than his hands was how quickly you threw me under the bus with your toxin.”

Feeling emboldened by the fact that you were on home turf, paired by the fact that he had come to you, you allow yourself to air the grievances which simmered below your skin; the hurt there no less disappointing even after a week apart.

“The,” Crane pauses to consider his words as an odd look of uncertainty shadows his features, “understanding that you and I share is one which is built on a particular level of trust. Something which I’m sure comes as much of a surprise to you as it is does for me, possibly more so given my own inclinations. However, I broke an element of that trust and I apologise. Had the situation been reversed, I can’t deny that I would have also been furious by the loss of autonomy.”

“What if it happens again?”

Frustration at the fair question adds a certain curtness to his tone which does not go unnoticed.

“I will not allow this to happen again, I can give you my word on that. You will never again experience my toxin because of third party interests.”

A very specific promise, but one you can accept in the moment as your mind falls to earlier considerations.

“I’m no Harley Quinn.” You state, fingers anxiously playing with the hem of your long shirt. “I don’t want to be a criminal. I couldn’t live that life. I know who you are, what you are and what you have done. I can’t condone any of it and I won’t condone any of it.”

“I don’t expect you to.” His leg raises from the floor to cross over the other, a slight relaxation taking over his frame as he realises that the conversation had shifted from accusation to something approaching a negotiation.

A clarification.

“Then what are we doing?”

The neutrality of his expression is overtaken by confusion, his brows pinching together as he tilts his head to the side and encourages you to continue.

“What is going to happen here?” You gesture vaguely to the empty space between you, the divide marked nicely by the tacky, plush rug which sits atop your carpet. “Eventually, something will have to change. I will not give up my life and you will not give up yours. We both get something out of these meetings but-”

Uncertainty clamps your speech.

You could both find other people to fuck, that wasn’t the issue here, the issue was everything which surrounded it. However, to verbalise that sentiment felt taboo. A potential truth which would prefer to remain unspoken, understood in a way which prevented either party from having to truly define it.

“The future is unforeseeable and our fear of it is as natural as our fear of the void and the horrors which lurk within. However, I will admit that there is something pleasant about having a distractive element in my life which remains unconnected to my work or necessary criminality.”

The words are thoughtful, spoken as much to himself as they are to you, and the apparent honesty within them is refreshing.

Over your time together, there are many words which you could use to describe him if asked - with most of them not being considered the kindest. But a liar? No. He may obscure or flirt around the truth at times, but he hadn’t ever disrespected you with a direct lie.

He didn’t want things to change, and the implications of his words was undeniable.

You were his something pleasant.

That was probably the closest thing to a genuine recognition of anything you were getting, given the circumstances.

“And you won’t ever force me to do something that I don’t want to do?”

Understanding your meaning despite the wilfully broad question, his head shakes slowly and the movement agitates his russet hair, causing a few stands to fall over his forehead.

“At times your presence reminds me of an earlier point in my life and I would enjoy being able to selfishly cling to that for as long as possible. In the interests of total honesty, it would be,” he hesitates for a moment, “preferable for you to remain separate from my mainline work. Besides, you do not strike me as ‘Mistress of Fear’ type. You hold far too much spiteful anger to be of any clinical or rational use in practical fieldwork.”

It was a frankly rubbish attempt at humour, but it was enough to break what remained of the tension and you offer him up a deep sigh which swiftly turns to a soft smile as you incline your head in his direction.

It was as close to forgiveness as you are willing to offer.

Besides, you had missed him.

Rising from the couch, you don’t bother to fix the shirt which rides up your thigh as he matches your movements and stands at his full height; his long legs making short work of the distance as he strides forward to stand before you.

From this close, the scent of him is maddening in its familiarity. The sharp scent of unknown chemicals mixed with the deep musky cologne which was his preferred aftershave sparks an arousal within your chest as it elicited memories of your various games together. The phantom ache of his hands on your body creating a hitch in your breath.

Feeling bold, you make the first move. Tilting your head up, you push your lips against his own and bite back a moan as he responds immediately, his mouth parting to grant you access as his hands lock themselves around your arms to pull you flush against him.

The kiss is filthy but short as you pull away, your lips tingling from the unexpected pressure, and your hands are quick to match his own, latching around his thin wrists as he remains clinging to your hips. He tastes of cheap wine, it’s fruitiness sweet against your tongue.

A wicked idea alights within your mind, one which you suspect he may enjoy and, more importantly, one which will allow you to claw back a little of the dignity which he saw stripped from you. Pausing his hands as they move to grope at your chest, you pull his attention to your face as you fix him with a heated stare before flicking your eyes to the side.

“Ignoring some of the stuff I said earlier, I want to wear it.”

“It?” He follows your gaze to the kitchen table and a visible flush overtakes the heights of his cheeks as his eyes land on his beloved fear gauntlet. “Oh.”

You break free of him in a single fluid move, your body shifting like a dancer as you slip through the room into the kitchen and pluck the gauntlet from his coat. The metal is cool to the touch and you run a finger along the heft of it seductively before pushing your hand within the opening.

Flexing the glove, the mechanism laughable oversized on your hands and the clink of the metal is surprisingly loud in the quiet room as you test it out, unsure how the thing actually works. As you turn to face him, the gauntlet held with a false confidence in your right hand, the obvious tent in his slacks speaks more than his blank expression ever could.

A small part of you can feel the fraudulence at play, the desperate clamouring to show at least some level of dominance which speaks of your desire to not resign yourself to an unwilling victim. Your submission to him was something earner, a reward which blossomed from his ability to recognise your needs and not push your limits in a way which you would be unable to come back from.

He would earn it back by allowing you this.

Retaking your earlier position before him, you run the sharp tips of the syringes down the thin fabric of his shirt. Not enough to pierce through but enough that you can imagine the gooseflesh the ticklish sensation must be leaving in its wake.

His hands raise to his neck as he loosens the top few buttons of the shirt, willingly exposing a small patch of his defined collarbone and no doubt making himself a little more comfortable from the heated situation.

“Tempting isn’t it, witty girl?” He growls, the words going straight to your core as you shudder and consciously rub your thighs together. “It would be so easy to take your revenge right here and now. One quick indulgence and you could prove us both wrong.”

Backing off him, you drop to the couch with some grace, allowing the arm to prop up your back as you flex the gauntlet at him in invitation. He follows rapidly, his tall frame moving to loom over you as you stretch below him, your right hand playing softly with the clothed peak of your right nipple in an open tease.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you, Dr. Crane?” You purr, running the edges of the syringes against the dark fabric covering his thighs. “To make me stoop to your level.”

His acknowledgement is a hum as his eyes dart between the gauntlet which vaguely threatens his groin and the tantalising movements your hand is making against your chest.

“If you won’t force me to taste my toxin then at least let me taste you.”

Adopting a predatory look, he doesn’t wait for permission as he sinks to his knees before your couch and you gasp as his hands confidently push the hem of your oversized shirt up to expose the underwear below. Simple black cotton, nothing too exciting, but it makes no difference to him as his fingers hook within the elastic and pull them free of your ass – slipping them off as you adjust your body to allow the movement.

Your non-gloved fingers bunch within the fabric of your shirt as his stubble grazes against your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth are vicious as they sink into the sensitive skin of your thighs and the sudden shock of pleasurable pain makes you flinch in place, the metal of the gauntlet squeaking as you flex it without thinking.

The flat of his tongue is warm against your skin as he draws it slowly up your slit, his thumbs pressing into your skin to open you up to him and allow him free access to his prize. A cry, almost savage in its intensity, break free of you as his tongue grazes your clit – the pleasure stiffening your spine as you lounge back against the couch.

Settling into a rhythm, his pace is cruel as he refuses to relax in his attack on your sensitive sex; alternating between using his tongue and his lips as he ensures that no inch of your cunt remains safe from his ministrations. Licking, kissing, sucking, and nipping away at your core, the hot pleasure of his tongue pairs with the sharp pain of his teeth to melt whatever sanity remained within your skull.

Pressing the tips of the needles against his back, his body stiffens in surprise for a long moment before he pulls away and turns his face up at you.

“A change of heart?”

His question is a tease, the words breaking free of slick lips which are coated in the same arousal which stains the rest of his lower face.

“Only if you stop.” You gasp out between pants.

A victorious snarl escapes him as he dives back in with similar enthusiasm.

Through the rush of blood in your ears and the moans which are escaping your lips in a frantic rhythm, you can faintly hear the hum of his mouth. The sound one of appreciation as he drinks down everything you have to offer while the softly vibrating noises serve to spur you on. In a stunning move of utter wickedness, his lips gather around your ultra-sensitive clit and suck at it with a keen pressure.

The result is dramatic as you unleash a high-pitched yelp, the fear gauntlet going taut against his back as your other hand buries itself in his russet hair, forcing his head roughly against your soaking core as your orgasm hits.

Rocking against his mouth, unintelligible pleas erupt from your lips as he meets your enthusiastic release with his own excitement; his movements never hesitating despite the death-grip which must be harming his scalp as you pull at the hair there, uncaring of anything aside from the waves of wicked ecstasy which are rolling through your frame.

It passes quickly and you carefully discard the gauntlet on the couch as you push at him gently and stand up, your legs feeling loose.

“Bedroom?”

It’s all the invitation he needs as the cuff of his shirt comes up to wipe away at his messy chin.

“Lead the way.”

In such a small apartment, the journey lasts little more than a few seconds and your hands run down your sides to smooth your t-shirt as you cross the threshold of your bedroom. A childish anxiety ghosts at your frantic thoughts as you survey the basic bedroom, relief fresh as you realise that the space is tidy with no embarrassing items left around.

Pulling the dressing gown for your bed, the dark cotton sheets now marred by small flecks of light pink fluff, you drop it to the floor in an untidy heap.

His body is hot behind your own, his chest pressing against your back as his hands seize around your waist in a vice-like grip.

“Are you going to let me fuck you, witty girl?”

The unfamiliar crudeness pairing with the hard length which makes itself known against your hip inspires a wicked shudder across your skin as you go pliant within his grasp.

“I think I might.”

Your fingers once again fall to the hem of your t-shirt and his grip loosens as he allows you enough space to pull the fabric overhead; the movement exposing your entire frame to his hungry gaze as he takes in your braless state, the black cotton panties still discarded somewhere beside the couch which you had both recently occupied.

A girlish yelp slips free as you find yourself thrown down atop the soft sheets, the new position forcing you to stare up at Crane as his fingers move to unbutton his shirt. At some point, he had taken the time to roll his sleeves up to expose his forearms and the slight exposure is surprisingly erotic given his usual state of dress.

Your hands move quickly across your chest, fingers pausing to tweak at your peaked nipples. Almost in tandem, his hands drop to his fly and loosen his slacks enough to free his hardened cock. The slight glisten at his cockhead speaks of his excitement and your tongue flicks at your lips without thought.

“I didn’t bring any protection.” His voice is clipped, hoarse with his arousal as he palms his cock. “This was not an expected outcome of this visit.”

The temptation to ask just what those expectations were is strong, but you dismiss them to focus on more pressing needs.

“I’m on birth control,” you admit with an open shrug, “and I can pick up extra tomorrow.”

Your eyes flick between his face and cock as your foot comes up to slowly press against his thigh in open invitation as your legs widen slightly.

Watching the brazen spectacle, any hesitation flees in an instant as the full force of the Scarecrow descents on you in a flurry of movements.

His hands dig into the soft skin of your thigh as he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. The tip of his cock bumps against your slit messily and he releases your left thigh to wrap his fingers around his length; coating the head of his cock in your juices as he rubs himself along you roughly.

“Fuck me.” It was a demand and the second word catches in your throat as his cock grazes your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure through your groin. “Please, Dr. Crane.”

Sinking himself within you in one swift thrust, his groan of satisfaction merges with your own hiss of pained pleasure as the stretch takes you by surprise. His hips move back until he is almost free of you before slamming back, forcing you to take everything he has as he sets himself into an easy rhythm.

“I should be punishing you.” He growls out. “The Scarecrow does not take kindly to a little mouse who neglects her duties while also plaguing his thoughts with her wanton ways.”

Never relenting in his frantic pace, his words are surprisingly coherent if a little breathless and you curl your fingers into the sheets beneath your writhing frame.

“And how would he punish me?”

“He would begin by warming that lovely skin up with a belt to see how beautifully reddened and welted it would become. Then he would take his time to ensure that every inch of you received a thorough inspection. I think particular attention would be paid to certain areas which deserve more thorough testing.”

Finishing his small speech, the fingers of his left hand come to rest on your chest as they grope at the flesh there with a possessive, almost painful grip. Shuddering into it, a mewl of pleasure breaks free as you find your nipple captured between his thumb and forefinger with a wicked pressure, his tugging a notable threat of a much more intense future experience.

“Maybe such a test should be scheduled for my next visit to the basement? I would hate for my wicked doctor to feel that he was neglecting his patient.”

A victorious snarl curls at his lips as he sets into a more rapid pace, every thrust being met by your own a you push back to meet him with everything you have. It’s sloppy and chaotic, your mutual movements being guided by a selfish need for pleasure which neither of you were sure you would share again. Your nails carving soft crescent shapes into his forearms just as relentlessly as his hands grip at your flesh, groping and massaging with pure greed.

His release reaches him quicker than either of you could anticipate as his thrusting grows more frantic and brutal, every stroke within your walls feeling like a delicious assault until an animalistic growl spears the air between you. A hot warmth spreads through your core as he fills you with his release, the sensation different enough to your usual fucking to make you dig your heels into his back as you revel in it.

Riding out his orgasm, his thumb is rough as it presses against your clit to rub cruel circles into the sensitive nub. It straddles the line between pleasure and pain, the torturous sensation very quickly forcing you to writhe against him as you simultaneously beg for mercy and yet demand more.

He pulls free of you, his attention now focusing on ensuring your own completion and his wicked thumb pairing with the intensity of his gaze is enough to get you there as you come violently against his hand. Your fingers twisting into the cotton sheets, the wet mess of your slit is obscene as his release mixes with your own, spreading against his palm as he continues to draw you to madness with his talented thumb.

Before you could become too over-sensitive to his touch, his hand pulls free of your shuddering frame as he extracts himself from your jellied legs and drops to the bed by your side. In the quiet of the night, very little sounds invade the space between you which isn’t your shared breathing.

Feeling delightfully fucked as you enjoy the post-coital comedown, your hand presses against your chest and you can feel the frantic beat of your heart beneath the slightly reddened skin.

“Did you mean it?” His voice is loud in the quiet room and you tilt your head in his direction. From here, you can see the flush which sits high in his cheek as he tucks his cock away once more within his slacks.

“Mean what?”

“Do you agree to return to the basement? Willingly?”

“Yes, but on the condition that what I said earlier stands.”

His hum of approval is enough, and he sits upright with a small sigh which would be easy to mistake for an exhale. His russet hair is a shock of untidiness, the strands sticking up on end in areas but there is something relaxed within his features which hasn’t been there since he first crossed the threshold of your front door.

It’s surprisingly endearing.

“Stay with me?”

Again, your lips seem unwilling to allow your brain to dictate their actions as you throw the question at him softly.

Freezing in position, Crane covers the momentary hesitation on his part by turning to face you more clearly, his eyes locking to your own as he pauses to consider the meaningful request.

“Why?”

“Why not? You’ve seen my apartment now and we just fucked in my bed. Plus, it’s very late and you might as well stay the night.”

He remains unmoving and anxiety swirls in your chest as a fear you may have overstepped the mark cuts through your post-coital bliss. Regardless, you continue.

“Concerned about a little bed, Dr. Crane?”

“Concerned that a certain little mouse may finally come to her senses before dawn and attempt to kill me in my sleep.”

His reply is deadpan but the speed of it earns him a tired giggle as you shrug your shoulders.

“If I wanted to kill you, I could have used your gauntlet.”

A grunt of acknowledgement is his only response and your smile blooms slightly as he retakes his earlier position, laying back on the bed in his full shirt and slacks combo.

Feeling victorious, you wriggle your body further up the bed until your head falls against a familiar pillow. The mess between your legs would require an early morning clean-up but you were content to leave it for now, not wishing to disturb the peace too greatly.

Crane follows your lead but rather than suffer the indignity of wriggling across the bed, he stands fully before walking around the other side and dropping to the soft sheets once more. In all your time within the basement, you had never once witnessed a bed and you briefly wonder how long it must have been since he had truly lay down for a night sleep which wasn’t on his work chair or the ratty couch which often housed your fun.

The urge to reach over and press yourself against him gnawed at you like a beast, but the more rational part of your brain understood that such a movement would probably result in him choosing to leave.

It was better not to push it.

Sure, he would eat you out like a man possessed before fucking you senseless, but post-sex cuddling was beyond him in a way which make your heart clench in vague disappointment.

Stretching out fully, you turn to your side as fatigue claims your thoughts. You press out your foot almost without thought until it touches his calf, the skin there protected by his slacks. It was enough and the small piece of physical contact soothes some primal part of you as you press your head into the pillow and allow him to make himself comfortable in the space beside you.

In the grand scheme of things, very little would change.

Your life was your own and his world was one which you had no interest in experiencing.

By agreeing to return to his basement, you had sealed your fate. A fate of faintly addictive sex rounded out by a companionship which both parties were content to settle into.

No spoken commitments.

No unwarranted cruelty or betrayal.

No perceivable future.

I will admit that there is something pleasant about having a distractive element in my life which remains unconnected to my work or necessary criminality.

Something pleasant.

That, at least, you could probably do.

Also posted on AO3

#Jonathan crane #scarecrow #whole day off #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x you #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #witty girl #gotham rogues

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socialredux · 3 months

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𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 (𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ)

The Proxies X Fem!Metalhead!Reader

Massive warning for graphic violence, self harm, and smut in ongoing chapters.

Hi teem, So this is gonna be a lengthy explanation. This story is loosely based on the black metal band Mayhem and some of the things the lead vocalist did. I HIGHLY recommend looking up both black metal and Mayhem this story will make more sense. ANYWAYS, there's mass controversy surrounding the band but idgaf. Black metal in the Creepypasta universe is fucking legendary, I saw an opportunity and ran with it. This series will be edgy, If you're triggered by self harm and dark subjects such as suicide this is not for you. Thank you for reading, you have been warned!

The proxies get sent by the operator to a black metal venue for a mission. The reader is the lead vocalist in a band called Funeral Terror Tim, Brian, and Toby are fascinated by the reader's profound performance. Never have they seen such a grotesque display put on for the public. They must take you to the operator.

??? Pov

“ What the fuck even is black metal? That sounds like some lame ass gimmick.”

The edges of Tim's vision still blurred with buzzing static. He had just finished conversing with the Operator.

“ Doesn’t matter, we have a job to do. We should be careful though this venue has a history of being incredibly lenient when it comes to its attendees.” brian said

“ Which m-means?”

Toby questioned leaning back in his chair.

“ Means these fuckers could be armed. Bet there’s drugs going around which would make our job even harder.” Tim said with a serious tone.

“ We have to have our guards up especially if we have to talk with those.. people.”

Tim’s pause was telling.

“ What’s the victim’s n–name?.”

Toby’s shoulder jerked. Looking towards Tim for an answer.

“ R/N R/L. The Operator told me she may be trouble, so all the more reason to keep our guards up.”

“ O–oo a girl! We haven’t had a female victim in ages!”

Toby spoke, whistling enthusiastically. Brian chuckled.

“ Don’t get too excited, he wants us to bring her to him alive. There’s a chance she may be a candidate for a new proxy.”

Tim got quiet

“ Pshhh what could be so special about her. Besides! The Operator hasn’t chosen a new proxy since Toby.”

brian said smirking

“ Yea–yeah and we do our jobs just fine. What could she do that we can't?”

Toby said with a roll of his eyes.

“ I don’t know but let’s get this over with.” Tim finished.

At the venue

Reader’s Pov

Staring in the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. I felt like a shit though not many could see it so plainly. My clammy palms gripped the porcelain sink that resided in the shitty dressing room bathroom. I donned a short sleeve fitted Bahtory t-shirt, ripped camo pants, black boots, and a bullet belt. Scars littered my wrists and shoulders from past mutilation. Finishing my corpse paint really solidified my reality.

Outside of the dressing room was bustling with staff making sure the stage equipment, lighting, and sound system were all in good condition. Some stopped and asked me questions while I fished a cigarette from my pocket. Basic annoying questions like-

“ Are you ready to perform?”

“ Are your bandmates ready?”

“ How many songs are you performing?”

Lighting my cigarette pushed past the small crowd of people finding my bandmates tuning their instruments and lounging on a small couch. Above the couch pinned to the wall was a set list and a calendar. 2014 June 21st. This was the 5th show our band Funeral Terror had played, I wouldn’t consider what we were doing as touring but it was to some degree.

Today’s concert venue resides in a small town called Tuscaloosa Alabama. The reason my bandmates and I chose such a seemingly pointless place was because of its alarmingly dark history. This town was the perfect place to play black metal. Maybe I’d get to witness some paranormal shit first hand. It also gave you an excuse to do some wicked things tonight

“ There’s our deadgirl.”

Corpus greeted me with delight. He's my bassist, his real name wasn’t actually Corpus it was actually connor however, all of my bandmates had stage names. Mine being cadaverous.

Nodding at him with approval I took a long drag from my cigarette. Sighing in contentment.

“ What are our plans for after the show? I think we could go hit the local pub and get a few beers, heard their food fucks too.”

My guitarist said with a shrug. His stage name was blasphemy.

“ Hell yeah, I’m down, something tells me this night is gonna be long.”

I say flopping down next to blasphemy on the worn couch. My cigarette loosely hung from my lips

“ Are you guys ready to raise the dead with this show tonight?”

I say with a grin. My bandmates holler and whistle enthusiastically.

“ Fuck is that even a question. I haven't been this pumped for a show in forever.”

Blasphemy said, taking a sip of his beer.

“ How much longer do we have to wait for these openers to finish their sets.”

My drummer SKAG groaned. Almost as if right on queue the staff motioned for us to get on stage. We all stood up ready to take our places in front of the growing crowd.

Showtime.

??? pov

The four proxies stepped out of Tim’s sketchy toyota corolla into the summer night air. They observed the few people making their way into the concert building. Walking up to the door they were met with a tall lanky long haired man wearing some band tee Tim had never heard of.

“ That’ll be a 10 dollar admission.”

He spoke with a low tone. Great, we have to pay to get in too, Tim thought. Each proxy member handed over the money, getting not more than a casual nod to go in.

“ I stu-still have yet to see a girl with our victims descript–-shion.”

Toby said.

“ We haven’t even made it through the crowd.relax.”

Brian replied. The proxies continued to shove through the dense crowd. They settled on a row back from the stage. Keeping a close eye on the people around them and listening in on short yells of conversation. Finally a figure walked on the stage with brisk speed. The person was dressed similarly to the guy taking money at the door.

“ Now for the band you’ve all been waiting for.. raise your horns for Funeral Terror!”

The crowd erupted with screams raising their hands bumping into one another. The lights dimmed the beginnings of a guitar riff ripped through the speakers, the movements from the people around the proxies became more rapid. Brian and Tim stood still while Toby began to bump against the crowd. Of course he’d enjoy this kind of shit.

Finally the lights brightened casting a purple ghostly glow upon the lead singer who bellowed out scratchy growling vocals. It wasn’t a man as he had initially thought it was a woman. A woman that fit the exact description the operator had mentioned. Her S/C was painted a ghoulish white with black wisped around her eyes. Her lips painted into a black frown making her seem more corpse-like.

“ G-get a load of her!”

Toby yelled through the roaring bass of the crowd. Tim was stunned never had he heard such music. Each word she sang was drawn out in a growl and it rattled through the speakers in an ear piercing fashion.

Towards the crescendo of the song the proxies noticed her gripping something from her belt, it was a knife. It looked dull from the glint it gave off. She raised her wrist to the view of the crowd, dragging it along the thin flesh of her forearm. It was so dull the slits were shallow giving only slight beads of blood. The frustration was evident on her painted face. Throwing down the dull knife she searched the ground, grabbing an empty bottle close to the forefront of the stage. The crowd continued to roar, the guitar riffs at their highest peak. Smashing the bottle she took what was left of the shattered glass raising her arm once more. She cut deep gashes into her already mutilated flesh. Blood poured from the searing wounds splattering onto the people below her. A few opened their mouths, some just looked up with amazement. It was a grotesque sight to see.

All of it happened so quickly Tim, Brian, and Toby couldn’t help but stare in awe. This chick was fucking nuts. Toby could’ve sworn she caught his gaze just for a moment. The song ended, another one starting up the band finished a total of 6 songs before the concert ended. They pulled other insane stunts throughout the duration of their performance. The proxies shared looks as the band walked off the stage.

The crowd began to disperse loud chatter took place of the long gone music.

“ That was fucking in–sane!”

Toby said, still twitching with excitement.

“ No seriously, I have never seen someone do such a thing. Especially in front of a crowd.”

Brian said excitement also lacing his voice. Tim was in deep thought.

“ She’s our victim isn’t she, Tim”

Brian asked with a head tilt Tim nodded.

“ We have to go find the band before they leave or at least follow them to wherever they plan to go. “

The proxies nodded in agreement.

Reader’s Pov

The searing pain of my self inflicted wounds gave me such a rush on stage but now I’m left shaking. I felt dizzy. Everything felt far away as my bandmates helped me down the stairs backstage.

“ You’re fucking crazy R/N. We gotta get your arms bandaged before we go anywhere.”

Blasphemy said worry very evident in his voice but admiration seemed to also be behind his words. He was serious though, even using my real name but I barely noticed. Everything blurred together as they tended to my arms. I hissed in pain as they Wrapped it with gauze and duct tape to make it stay in place. I felt guilty resentment bubbling up in my gut. The adrenaline passed and I was left with a voided feeling of numbness. Looking down at my bandaged arms made bile rise in the back of my throat. This feeling pained me but god, was it addicting.

My bandmates huddled around me, staying silent as the staff finished patching me up. I still felt myself shaking. I must've lost a lot of blood. Grabbing my pack of cigarettes, I put one to my lips.

“ Can one of you give me a light?”

I request. SKAG nodded, fishing a lighter from his pocket. He put the lighter up to my cig, igniting it. I inhaled the smooth spiced tobacco sighing in relief. Honestly I could eat.

“ So… Pub time?”

Corpus said with a meek smile.

“You read my mind.”

??? Pov

“ I think only one of us should go in.”

Tim suggested. The others nodded in agreement.

“ Toby, I think you should go. You look like somebody they’d talk to.”

“ I don’t knu–know what you’re sugges–ting but fine.”

Toby rolled his eyes.

“Okay good, Brian and I will stay in here and keep watch. Maybe try to get her away from her friends. We'll figure out our next step then.”

The proxies followed the foursome to the local pub named Donner's. They watched the band walk into the pub waiting a few spare moments before sending Toby inside.The door chimed with his arrival, Toby quickly scanned the small place. It was quite busy and the patrons were happily chatting away. He spotted the group of four sitting at a table near the bar. He made his way to a seat closest to the table. Getting comfortable he ordered a drink.

“ One of the house beers on tap, ple-please.”

The bartender nodded, turning away to prepare his drink. Toby began to listen to the table next to him.

“ Holy fuck that reminds me of the time SKAG got so fucking drunk he fell in the bonfire then proceeded to yak in it too.”

One of the guys laughed maniacally.

“ I told you to never mention that again.”

One of the other guys said through gritted teeth.

“ Ay corp you can’t say shit. Weren’t you literally passed out NAKED next to a creek 3 miles from the cabin.”

R/N said with a raised brow. The table erupted into laughter. The guy just silently sipped his drink.

“ One house beer.”

The bartender set the drink in front of Toby. He gave a meek thank you sipping on the wheaty beverage. Then suddenly

“ Hey little lady, you’re too pretty to be doing all that to yourself.”

A drunk guy slurred. Toby turned towards the voice. The guy was referring to R/N’s healed wounds that ran up and down her exposed arms.

“ Oh yeah? How bout’ you kick rocks you fucking geezer.”

She bit back.

“ Just trying to give you advice sweetie. No man wants a girl with those kinds of problems. No need to be such a cunt.”

He drunkenly barked gripping onto her shoulder. Before he could even get out another word she smashed her beer glass against his head knocking him out cold. The pub went silent seconds later her bandmates cheered. Toby was shocked. This girl is something else.

“Hope you learned your lesson geezer.”

She spit on his unconscious body before stepping over it.

“ I’m gonna go smoke, I'll be back.”

Her bandmates acknowledged her before going back to chatting. She briskly walked out the door. Fuck Toby had to follow her this was his chance.

Toby followed out the door. Finding her not far from the pub entrance, lighting her cigarette.

“ H–Hey can I bum a cigarette from you?”

Toby asked. She gave him a look before nodding, handing over the pack.

“ Need a light too?”

R/N questioned.

“ Yeah, thanks.”

Toby took a drag from it; he couldn't deny it was pretty good. He’s used to Tim’s shitty ones. They stood in silence while nursing their cigarettes.

“ So u-uhh I saw what you did to that guy. That was pretty ha-hardcore.”

Toby began. She chuckled.

“ Yeah, when people comment on things like that I don’t usually care but tonight was different…Hey weren’t you in the crowd at my show tonight?”

R/N question.

“ I w–was, that was one hell of a concert. I didn’t know thin–gs like that were allowed.”

Toby said. She shrugged.

“ I appreciate it.”

The two stood in silence for a few moments.

“ This chat was cool in all but I should ge–-”

Before she could even finish Toby knocked her out. He quickly caught her unconscious body spotting Tim’s shitty car. He be-lined it to the car dragging her along.

The operator was hopefully going be pleased.

This took me so long bro , Let me know what you guys think! I should have the next chapter out in a month or so maybe sooner :D I didn't proof read the whole thing so I apologize if there's errors!

#marble hornets #creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #slenderverse #the operator #dead dove #dark fic #Spotify

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