Work Text:
Gotham City Outskirts
[August 10th]
Motel 10
2:45 PM
The voice of Jonathan Crane was more withdrawn and pensive than it had been in weeks as he conversed. It was evident to Becky that Jonathan was taunting her for utter delight on his part, though a sort of playfulness could be heard in his lowered voice.
“I should have known you would bring something to crowd up my area, girl", Crane spoke. “Have you come to witness me in such a state of disarray before rushing off to Gotham’s finest?”
The haughtiness and disdain in his voice towards the aforementioned university was evident.
It was apparent that Jonathan was referring to the place of his former employment. It was the same university that his dear Plucky Becky had still chosen to attend; and if anything, Crane gained some sort of snide satisfaction in fact from her toeing the line so to speak. However much he refused to admit it.
Becky had found him in far more tense moods before, yet there was something about this one that seemed incredibly foul in nature. He truly did seem more occupied than ever these past few weeks. She had found little chance to visit him with her first round of exams. Even now, she had barely found time to conceal their relationship, let alone keep up with her final courses and the strenuous work that Jonathan put on her as well. Agreeing to his terms with her own yet was a matter that she was still in ways working on.
For all her reasoning of the situation and feelings toward Jonathan, there was still a sense of thrill that she found in all this. Being one with a proclivity towards finding sense in numerous sides of a situation, she had presented Crane with such a proposal and comment that even he had felt taken aback. Becky had told him on her own free will months later after their fateful meeting that until she took matters into learning from him, she could not accept the title or moniker he wanted to place upon her.
It had been nearly seven months now since she had begun to learn more about him. In actuality, it had been more observing him and assigned readings than anything. It wasn’t uncommon for him to suggest a book only to turn around and then criticize it. Though Jonathan Crane knew Becky held a different set of morals, she possessed the ability to seemingly look at matters from any perspective; even choosing to ignore and set to standards for herself that she could change and become more flexible on.
Jonathan recognized what he felt for her was beyond his personal understanding. Intrigue and what he viewed as a sort of bond and understanding meant more to him inside someone than any other emotion. It was near fascination in a way, wondering how she thought; and above all else, why she came back to state that she would indeed consider anything from him at all...
Her voice broke his thoughts.
Another set of ideas for a different time, Crane told himself. So caught up in his visions of them together that he had scarcely noticed her explaining upcoming coursework.
“They have our course delving more into Pavlov. See, it doesn’t shock me that I’m having to read about anyone non-typical. It wasn’t even a minute that Christine Ladd-Franklin was given. Anyways…”
Her voice trailed off as she looked towards the bag she had brought. Becky’s further words of greeting and news she had brought him a gift had earned no more than a grunt and gruff words.
“As if you are one to be conditioned, my Plucky Becky.”
A smile graced her lips for a second. She sat down the bag next to his makeshift desk, eyeing the paper-filled area. It was evident he was in a state of chaos, with notes, food containers, and vials alike scattered everywhere. Even his shoulders appeared in a tented manner, rolled-up sleeves pooled around his bony arms.
“Don’t act as if I bought it just for you now,” she kidded, although this jest only caused him to move his shoulders more. He turned to look at her with a half-raised eyebrow before turning back to his work. He muttered something under his breath about her timely manner in arriving before shoving his notes aside.
“I was in the area,” she continued, “and before I leave for a conference....”
She paused, expecting him to interrupt. When Becky found that he was not responding, she resumed.
“I decided to bring you some items. Too many to name, really.,” she continued on as he stared at her, Becky watching on as Jonathan adjusted his glasses. “Notebooks, those....odd little cookies you li-”
This time, Crane did interrupt, his voice suddenly filled with what sounded like engagement to Becky.
“You decided?”
At this he stood, words clearly regulated and his interest piqued. Becky found The Scarecrow examined her words the way a musician might analyze a sheet of complex music.
With this tone, she couldn’t help but feel a certain rush. It was true that Jonathan Crane could be downright merciless in his words, yet at times his sardonic humor was an entertaining rush Becky found stimulating.
“A figure of speech, Jonathan, though I know you acknowledge that.”
Becky was beginning to fumble with her words inside her mind as he loomed over her now, yet found her voice remained steady.
He grabbed at her wrist, using such utmost care that was still shocking. Jonathan looked over at the bag, then back to Becky. For many moments, he truly looked her over. Heavy-lashed eyes and freckles were some of the first hallmarks that stared back at him as he peered deeply into her features. Thin fingers and long nails graced across her face. Almost as if he were choosing his own words sparingly, Crane took a moment before speaking.
“If you know that, then why are you saying the opposite, dear Becky?”
In only seconds did Becky respond.
“I’m not saying anything I think is the reverse. If you see it any other way I-”
There wasn’t more than a moment between them before his own lips were pressed against hers. His hand caught her back and the more he pressed himself closer to her, the more Becky felt her adrenaline rush mix with arousal. This was not what she was expecting in the slightest given his prior mood. Yet, upon thinking about it...yes, this impassioned and ardent form of expression seemed just right up Jonathan’s interest.
As he pulled back from her, Becky noted that his own hands still held a sort of almost tremble at times when simply held still. The concept of keeping himself controlled lest his thoughts truly wander was something Becky took deeply to think on.
“I do see it another way. Now then,” he began, not taking his eyes off her as she glanced down at her watch in a manner that was not as discreet as she had intended.
This was met with only a wry smile and ignoble thoughts. Jonathan was aware that if she didn’t leave at that moment, he would perhaps have to push her to some boundary that he was not certain he could control at this given moment. With a stifled voice and slow strokes to her hair, Crane took note in his mind various aspects of Becky that he desired to further learn of.
“Go on now, girl!”, his voice nearly demanded.
It seemed almost as if he was determined to reclaim some form of dominance in the situation.
“Far be it from me to hold you back from whatever may call!”
He opened the door for her as she gathered her purse from the table, Becky a bit caught aback he was almost requesting her to leave it would seem. He then watched from behind the window as she approached the car that was parked underneath a willow tree. A cab driver opened her door before returning to his own seat and driving away.
As Crane turned back towards the work that awaited him, it was Becky who remained on his mind. Try as he might, thoughts of her were in his cognizance and soon they were ones of both mischievous thoughts and passion. Emotion in the sense of feeling such intensity wasn't new to Jonathan Crane.
Scarecrow continued to fill up vials with non-toxic formulas and sort through papers, the brief thought of his hands roaming over Becky still in his memory. Touching her with such heated motions that she would beg for more; he wanted her to feel starved of his touch, needing it the way he needed her....
This filled Crane with such a sense of accomplishment and arousal that he knew in a moment he could do one of two actions knowing himself. He could give in right now at this very moment or allow his mind to stray so far off that he found himself with some pent-up emotions that he couldn't explain nor get out immediately.
It was certainly true that Becky did have far more nightmares after her encounters with Jonathan. And it was currently unspoken that she was aware of this, as the coincidence was too seeming to not take note of. His thoughts continued to wander off to Becky as he made a foolhardy attempt to accomplish his previous object.
Self-pleasure had been a concept to him that had been rare, even something of more a backburner thought. Since Becky had arrived in his life in a far more relationship-wise fashion, Jonathan now found his body responding to thoughts and touches in a way he had never before.
Especially when he thought of her skin underneath his roughened fingers. The closest he had come yet was kissing just below her clavicle, though there was much, much more that Crane yearned to do with her.
He could take her at any time he surmised without complaint from her; still, he wanted it to be the precise moment of his own choosing. To make her cry out his name from all that he longed to show her was a thought in his mind that had been occurring more often. Crane told himself he was unquestionably not apprehensive; even if deep down he knew this to be somewhat false. He wanted to trust his own intuitions, believing that he was desired by sweet Becky.
She seemed to present indications of attraction from what Crane had gathered watching her, her own words of reassurance still not quite registering to him fully; shortness of breath upon kissing her, or how her eyes would flutter just as began to talk upon his desires for her....
The mere notion of her wanting him was euphoria. He had already started to imagine the lascivious look in her eyes, his own enchanting Becky whimpering below him in a desirous, begging timbre
Jonathan felt a tightness in his stomach begin to form. It was an unusual combination to him just how quickly he found release, while at other times it felt so frustrating that he nearly gave regret even giving self-pleasure deliberation. Tonight, however, was unquestionably one of the evenings where release would seemingly come far more quickly than times before.
He let himself sink back more into his chair, glancing towards the room and taking in the candlelight glow that danced upon the darkness of the lodging's wall. It was almost embarrassing however to Jonathan Crane just how simple of thoughts it took for him to become stirred when he focused his attention towards her. Just as Crane could taste fear in a way, there was truly a sense of just how he could feel the emotions of some in a distinctive way.
A sort of sense that he had learned to follow more over the years, yet could easily be lost in fiery moments. Crane began to imagine her own delicate lips still against his own. She more often than not smelled of shampoo and subtle fragrance that blended in well with her natural gentle scent.
Citrus Aloe shampoo and violet, as Jonathan knew well from his own intrusion into her home.
Crane realized that his mind was no longer focused.
He began to stroke himself, having unbuttoned the worn pair of corduroy pants only moments prior. Much of his time had become devoted to thinking on his individual, captivating Becky. Part of him felt a bit frustrated over this at first, yet it was swiftly overtaken by a sense of conquering and vanity.
Mind far from his intended paperwork and toxin making, it was now on just how her fingers danced lightly into his shoulders upon holding onto him, grasping at him in a manner he had never felt before.
His own slender fingers had found their way fully around his cock now. He felt full of desire and now entertaining all varieties of words to utter to Becky when the time did indeed arrive. A slight hitch found its way to his throat as he continued to stroke and adjust himself in his seat. Crane wasn't one to remain still during most occasions, especially when in a hurried mood to get off.
He was trying to work himself over slowly, to take in the sensations that he was feeling and savor them. The more sinister his thoughts became, the more he found himself only wishing to further this along. The mere idea of wanting to bring pleasure to someone was a distant concept to The Scarecrow, yet Becky fit into his yearnings so well that it struck Crane at times to think of her sheer presence and impression she had upon him.
He continued to imagine her abundant, dark red hair flowing down to her waist, his own lank fingers entangled in her curls; his coarse, masked lips pressed to hers with such fury that he knew she would be bruised for days after. Jonathan wanted to hear her murmurs of pleasure as he dug his nails deeper into her, claiming her as his own.
Marked by him.
Owned by him. Wanted by him. Wanted by her.
As he continued to ride out this brief wave of pleasure he allowed himself, Crane leaned further back into the chair. He maintained the image of his lovely Becky, her own defiance yet apprehensive nature intrigued him like no other. He began to move quicker now, up and down motions continuing to encourage the build-up that was only increasing. The mere concept of her voice filling his own ears with the devotion Scarecrow presumed she felt for him proved too much for him to resist.
He suddenly began to visualize pushing her hair to the side to mark her neck, yearning to show her both delight and reverence for him. Jonathan made it a point to shut his eyes, further longing to breathe in her scent at this very moment.
Pent up and allowing his mind to stray over thoughts which he felt no remorse for, he yielded to the surge that was rising in him. In only seconds did he feel his cock twitch and harden further from orgasm. As if time had suspended, his mind felt an almost blank and peaceful feeling before he attempted to suppress a quiet groan. Crane found his mind was still hazy post cumming. So caught up in the still pulsing sensation was he that it took him several moments before taking note of the stickiness covering the lower part of his shirt, pants, and hand.
He was placated with his release, having all but stopped his earlier pace now. Aware of his area fully and with work promptly coming back to his mind, Crane found his surroundings become more and more real as the moments passed. He hastily fastened his pants and removed his shirt, cursing under his breath at having to both wash his hands and search for different articles of clothing. After changing and settling himself back into his workspace, he adjusted his glasses and continued on with his previous work.
Despite his taunting Becky for bringing him several items earlier, it did not take the lank individual long before he found himself reaching for the box of cookies and other assorted goods she had left him.