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Crane had no complaints when you asked him to administer your hormones once a week. He was flattered you trusted him to give you your medication and you both find the routine intimate.
Plus, he loved that it was a perfect excuse to stab you with a needle with no prior convincing needed.
You did used to do them yourself. You’re not exactly afraid of needles themselves but you were no doctor and the sting of a needle every week was getting very annoying. Sometimes even skipping your shot for the week just to avoid the chore of it.
What took you 5 minutes to do took Crane 30 seconds. You swear he’s trying to beat his previous record each time.
You have to admit, the swift professionalism he has is very attractive to watch.
While Crane did like to be quick about it, either to get it over with or impress you, sometimes he did like to take his time examining your body to find the perfect spot.
“The veins on your arms are beautiful.” A compliment told as a statement that makes you weak. He traces the faded blue lines of your veins with his slender fingers from your wrist to inner elbow.
Crane moved his hand to your thighs now. You were always just in a shirt and underwear for these, obviously pants getting in the way of a shot. You told him it was a good idea to rotate injection sites and he agreed.
Yet another excuse for him to touch you where ever he liked.
“Thighs have enough fat in them to not cause any pain.” Stating again to himself.
Crane’s hands roamed slowly around the meat of your upper thigh moving from the sides into the sensitive areas just near your sex. Occasionally gripping you roughly and just slightly moving his fingers underneath the edge of your underwear always causing you to try and hold back the soft moans.
“Are you moaning?” Crane asks in an authoritative tone. “For your doctor?” He grabbed the soft skin of your thigh harsh enough to make you yelp and bring your attention back to him.
“I didn’t know I had a whore for a patient. How unprofessional.” He scolded you, but you could only wonder if he could feel how warm your crotch was getting.
“You could get me in serious trouble. I don’t want to lose my job because someone heard a moaning little slut in my office.”
You just nodded and bit your lip. Not wanting to “alert the staff”.
Crane continued with his little examination on your body while you sat nice and quietly on medical table in his lab. Arms, thighs, stomach, neck , he even reminded you that the rear is also a common injection point because of the extra fat again. Amplifying his comment with another rough squeeze on your behind.
“I think we’ll do your stomach. Lie down.”
You shuffled your legs up the table and moved back to rest your head. The padding that was usually at the top for a headrest was oh-so conveniently removed for your discomfort and made you ache a bit.
Crane grabbed a pair of medical gloves and put them on with a snap in each wrist. He really didn’t have to wear gloves for this, you thought. Jon was definitely just indulging in his fantasies and it was working on you.
You never knew going to the doctor could be so hot.
You paused for a moment while lost in thought.
All this performance is just for your hrt. A simple shot. Like getting a flu shot gone wild.
You hold back a laugh at how dorky and cute his dramatics now seem to you.
The good doctor had noticed your quiet giggling, your eyes closed and not seeing his annoyed glare at you. He must not have didn’t share the same humor when you suddenly feel him squeeze your hip making you stop and squirm under his grip.
“Quiet. Or I’ll use the drawing needle instead.”
25mm of thick needle. Ouch.
“Sorry Dr. Crane.” You pathetically whine at him, maybe on purpose to egg him on.
Jonathan lifted your shirt enough to show your stomach to him and goes back to his previous examinations on you. You notice Crane's eyes are juuust a bit lidded enough behind those flimsy looking wired frames glasses to know he was enjoying studying his little subject’s equally fragile looking body at the palm of his hand.
At least to him you were, you were always at the Scarecrow’s mercy.
You start to wonder if Jonathan had forgotten all about your hormones. It felt like he’s been just touching your skin for hours.
No, he wouldn’t forget. That’s his favorite part.
You admit it had also slipped your mind till you had coincidentally turned your head to see the small little vial box and syringe packets on the table.
While you were distracted now you didn’t see Jonathan take out the syringe from his lab coat and examine it against the harsh florescent lights to admire.
“Ready?” Crane asks as you turn your head towards the ceiling, not seeing the hungry look in his icy eyes.
“Yes, Dr. Crane.”
“There’s no need to be scared. It’s only a little prick.” He comments on your avoiding eyes then clears his throat. “On three. One,”
You hear him uncap the needle.
You sigh, all this build up making you so fucking needy from his slow, soft torturing. You hold back the urge to yell at him to hurry up so you two can have sex already.
“Two,” He said slowly.
“Jon please just-“ Moving your eyes back up to him to whine till adrenaline and panic kicked into you.
You immediately try to suck in the part of your stomach Crane was about to inject into away from the sharp thick needle and grabbed his thin wrist to stop him.
“Jon.”
“Hm?”
“Hormones aren’t orange.”