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tojicide · 3 months ago

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DOCTOR, DOCTOR! ☆ ZAYNE LI.

summary. when you’re feeling under the weather, doctor zayne is quick to prescribe you with what he knows will have you feeling better in no time.

warnings. fem! reader, pet names, boyfriend! zayne, praise, masturbation, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), cockwarming, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, creampie, aftercare. the rocking chair is featured. wc. 3.9k.

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Zayne is an intelligent man, that much was evident, but for the first time in his career, he’s absolutely stumped.

Why is that, you may ask? Well for starters you, his beloved girlfriend, have been a bit distant lately. Not cold, not rude, but distant.

With his busy schedule, he didn’t see much of you during the day, and by the time he got home, you were usually fast asleep. It was easy to think that he was simply missing you and that was why his brain had led him to feel this rift between the two of you, but alas, he couldn’t be more wrong.

This entire ordeal truly got him thinking…

He saw a few tissues in the trash bin—perhaps you were catching the common cold. But when he prepared a spoonful of bitter medicine and a glass of water to wash it down, he was met with your denial that you masked with a smile.

If it wasn’t that, what could it be? Zayne asked the same question.

Maybe you were stressed out because of work. He finds that to be probable, so he made it a point to get home as early as he could last night to give you a massage after he cooked you your favorite meal.

You seemed to be soothed by his touch, murmuring a few ‘ah’s and ‘ooh’s of satisfaction as his skilled hands threaded into the tense muscles of your shoulders. Once you were at ease with your head resting back on his chest, he gave you a tender kiss on your cheek before he turned in for the night.

Call him overly analytical, but when it took you awhile to join him, he had a feeling that the massage hadn’t quite accomplished what he hoped it would have.

His mind then started to wander even further. Had he forgotten to run the dishwasher? No, of course not. Had he forgotten to pay the utility bills? Absolutely not, he took his credit score very seriously and a late payment was simply unlike him.

Had he forgotten to put the toilet seat down…? Okay, he definitely did, but that couldn’t be why you were acting so unlike yourself.

And then, as he sat at his desk with a fresh plate of food in front of him, it dawned on him. When was the last time you orgasmed? More importantly, when was the last time he’d given you one himself?

It was almost inhuman how fast he jumped up from his office chair to inform Yvonne that he would be out for the remainder of the afternoon, because oh was he feeling downright horrible.

He was back at your shared apartment in no time, pushing the door open and setting his shoes in the nook positioned in the entryway.

(He had a bad habit of trucking on the hardwood floors without removing his shoes, and considering he was already on your shit-list, he made sure to do it now.)

“Honey?” he calls out to you, making his way towards your closed bedroom door. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

Zayne’s eyebrows raise as he glances around, finding that your apartment looks rather empty and desolate. “I’d like to apologize. I know I haven’t been present for you lately and—”

And then, he hears something. Something that makes him stop in his tracks. His eyebrow quirks up with intrigue as he presses his ear to the door, listening in.

He’d know those beautiful sounds anywhere, even if it’d been awhile since he had lured them out of you himself. Your moans were muffled by the door, but they were enough to make his cock stiffen up beneath the fabric of his black slacks.

“God… please,” you muttered, clearly out of breath and in frustration. “Damn it!”

Behind the door, you were resting on his side of the bed, hoping that his scent would be enough to make you finish. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you desperately tried to get yourself off, but nothing seemed to be working.

Zayne was practiced in a way that only he could be. He knew female anatomy better than you did, but more importantly, he took pride in learning yours. He knew what you liked and what you didn’t, what made you crumble and cry out.

And now that you’ve gone without him for so long, you’re finding yourself more pent up than ever. A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you try again, again, and again—only to be edged with your release without reaping the benefits of it.

He exhales, twisting the doorknob as he cracks the door open. To no surprise, there you were, sitting on his side of the bed with your hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

You hardly looked horrified at the sight of him, more so desperate if anything. He pulls his tie loose as he takes a few steps towards the bed, his knees finding the plush comforter as he sinks onto his stomach.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, almost sounding sympathetic. He runs his hands over your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. “Let me see.”

You roll your eyes. “Who’s to say that you deserve to?”

Zayne gives you a look that you know all too well, one that silently reads ‘girl, are you serious?’ And no, you aren’t serious by any means, so you nod your head to give him your permission.

He pulls the damp fabric of your panties to the side, his gaze slimming as he sets eyes on your cunt for the first time in what feels like forever. (It’s been two and a half weeks at most, but you’re both awfully dramatic.)

“I’m sorry,” he speaks into your heat, almost as if he were apologizing to both you and your pussy. He raises his eyes to yours as he flattens his soft tongue to swipe along your wet folds. He moans at the mere taste of you, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulls you even closer to him. “I had no idea. Truly, baby, I didn’t.”

You whine at the sensation of his gentle voice rumbling against your sensitive skin, your hand delving into his hair. “No idea about—hah—what?”

Zayne takes a moment to reply. His mouth is certainly distracted with the way it’s buried into your soaking cunt while his tongue laps at your inner lips, his nose brushing against your clit with each movement he makes.

“I hadn’t realized I was neglecting your needs,” he clarifies, cracking his eyes open just enough to look at you with hollowed cheeks as he sucks onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He releases it with a ‘pop’, his tongue quickly replacing his lips as he curls it in up and down motions that stimulate you in ways you can’t even comprehend. “My girl is too sweet to be treated like that,” he whispers, thumbing at your folds to give himself better access.

One of his hands continues to rub your thighs for some sort of comfort for his behavior, and soon, the other reaches up to take your hand in his own. You squeeze onto it immediately, finding the gesture to be much appreciated.

“So, you… mmh— you remember I exist after all?” Your words are meant as a joke, but he doesn’t seem to consider them as such with the way he presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“Honey, I’m being serious,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I’d never want to make it seem like I don’t consider you and your feelings.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before he smiles, adding an earnest, “and truth be told, I’m rather surprised that I’ve gone so long without tasting this pretty pussy of yours,” before he delves right back into eating you out like a man starved.

Zayne hasn’t noticed it until now, but he truly was starving, and not for the lunch that he left on his desk back at Akso Hospital. He wasn’t much for alcohol, but getting drunk on your pussy was one of his favorite pastimes, and he’ll never go this long without doing it again.

He was a man of science, and even then, he would never be able to explain the chemical imbalance that tasting you set off in his brain. Sure, medically speaking, the preoptic area of the brain is what triggers an erection, but what you did to him was far beyond that.

It was safe to say that Zayne was almost as in love with your pussy as he was with you, and judging by the way he’s making out with it right now, you have no doubts about that.

Your head tilts back against the headboard as he reintroduces his middle finger to your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench around it.

“Mm, quite sensitive, are we?” he lowly asks, licking a few swipes at your clit before adding, “Is it because you’ve been using your own hand for quite some time now?”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly you nod, your fingers grasping onto his dark locks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your folds. “It’s the only choice I had,” you whine.

(He makes a mental note to give you his credit card so that you can purchase anything and everything you’ll need in order to satisfy yourself whenever he isn’t around. The fact that he hasn’t thought of that sooner is a problem in and of itself.)

He nods in return, though the movement only invites him to make hard licks at your pussy, collecting your slick on his tongue. His cock is rock hard, but he’ll get his turn soon enough.

Even if his turn never came, he’d be more than happy with this alone—that much was incredibly evident.

“I know it, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your sensitive clit as he slides another finger into your hole. “Is this alright?”

Your thighs tense up at the sensation, but you nod, tilting your head down to look at him. With your permission, he continues, his tongue swiping at you while his fingers fuck you into oblivion.

When you tilt your head back, he squeezes your thigh. “Eyes down here, I need you to watch closely.”

A sharp whine escaped you as his mouth somehow latched onto your pussy in the time it took you to look at him. He pulls off of you to speak, his lips coated with your arousal. “There will be times like this in which I won’t be able to give you what you need, and as much as it kills me, your pleasure can’t be limited to the times I can have you like this.”

You tilt your head. “What… what do you mean?”

Zayne nods his head, urging you to tune in. He curls fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each push. “Hm. I suppose I can teach you how to touch yourself a bit more effectively. Would you like that?”

Your hand goes flying to his shoulder as you nod, your teeth pressing down onto your bottom lip. “Hah… mhm.”

He nods, grasping onto your hand. He presses a few kisses on your knuckles as he guides it to your clit, helping you swirl the pads of your fingers around it in smooth, moan-earning circles. “Very good. You look happier with me already.”

“You’re still a jerk,” you huff.

“I’m sure I have been behaving like one, yes,” he murmurs with a laugh. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, either. I need to get a few orgasms out of you before you should consider that.”

That sounds perfectly fine to you, so all you do is moan in reply, which makes him smile. He likes to please his woman, and knowing that he hasn’t done a good job of that makes him even more determined to make up for it.

“It’s okay to use two hands, sweet girl,” he continues teaching, tilting his head towards his own hand that was still thrusting two fingers inside of you. “While it may be mine right now, yours will work just the same.”

Something switches inside of you the moment he begins to help you masturbate, his own fingers fucking inside of you while yours stimulate another part of your puffy cunt. You always had a thing for acts of service, but when it came from your boyfriend, you were practically putty in his hands.

“That’s right,” he purrs, a smile tugging on his lips. “Such a pretty girl. Perhaps you just needed to be reminded of how to treat yourself.”

His hazel eyes are still on your face, watching as you pinch in absolute ecstasy, your thighs shaking on his shoulders. “I see that I’ve underestimated you,” he teases, dipping his head to lick at your folds, his tongue brushing against your fingers as he continues to guide the movements of your hand. “It seems like you’re doing just fine for yourself after all.”

You huff, shaking your head. “No, no… it’s all you.”

Zayne chuckles at that, sucking your fingers that were circling your clit into his mouth before he places them back on your sensitive pearl, giving you a bit more lubricant. “There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, I’m merely helping you. We’re practicing together, sweetheart.”

You almost roll your eyes because the last thing Zayne needed was practice on how to please you. He may have been a bit distracted, but that could never take away from how perfect of a lover he was.

And… it was difficult not to be hard on yourself when he’s practically taken away your ability to orgasm on your own. With the way he’s making you feel right now, his absence was almost worth it.

Your eyes haze over as you look down at him, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” you choke out.

To that, he nods in understanding. He thumbs apart your folds, leaving you to play with yourself as you please while he dips his head in to lick at your cunt in any way he can, feeling the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s right. Look at you, honey, such a quick learner.”

Zayne grasps onto your thigh with his free hand, pressing a few wet kisses along your inner skin as you come down from your high. Your hand still has a death grip on his hair, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows that he deserves to lose a few strands of hair after how he has left you alone.

You pant, your chest heaving as your body reels from your orgasm. While your vision is blurry, you can still make out the picture of your boyfriend sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them free of your release.

“Mm, you know, the release from an orgasm does much to calm people,” he murmurs, giving your mound a chaste kiss before he rises up to give you one on your forehead. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”

You do feel better, but a part of you, one that you can’t quite shove away, is still yearning for more. Despite that, you nod, brushing your hand along his cheek as he dips his head to give you a kiss.

Sugary and sweet are two words you’d used to describe kissing Zayne, because those were adjectives you’d also use to detail how he always behaves when around you.

He pulls away from the kiss, propping himself up on his elbow above you while he uses his other hand to brush away your hair. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of a raw honesty that makes your heart squeeze.

You shake your head with a smile. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you reply. “It’s just… you made me feel like you didn’t need me, like what I felt was one sided.”

Zayne’s expression seems to soften as he shakes his head. “Of course I need you, I always need you. Your needs are never one-sided, especially not needs of this nature.” He brushes his hand over your cheek. “And I was serious about my endeavors of making it up to you, sweetness. C’mere.”

Before you know it, you’re plucked from your position on the bed and carried to the corner of the bedroom. Zayne takes a seat in the rocking chair positioned there, spinning it around until it faces the body length mirror just in front of the two of you.

He then undresses you entirely, kissing along your thighs, your hips, the curves of your back, on the cheek of your ass—everywhere and anywhere he could. Sure enough, you hear the rattling of his metal belt buckle behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his cock is pulled out from the confines of his boxers.

His slacks are still bunched up around his thighs, as are his boxers, but he pays no mind to it. He raises two fingers as he beckons you to sit in his lap, and you do.

Zayne rests one hand on your hip while the other grasps onto his shaft, pumping it in his fist a few times before he smears the head of his cock along your folds, gathering your slick. “The ‘teaching’ is over, but now, I simply want to show you just how much I need you.”

His words stir something within you, and when he leans up to press a kiss on your shoulder, you already feel like your lover is here to live up to his word. “Is that alright?” he asks against your skin, prodding your entrance with his tip.

When you nod, you’re already sinking down, taking him inch by inch until you’re cockwarming his thick length. He smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes drifting over your body that he will never forget to worship again.

“So beautiful,” he coos, his hands mapping out the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. “Thanks.”

Zayne shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he whispers. “That’d be like thanking Einstein for developing the theories of special and general relativity—it’s practically a given.”

You aren’t sure where the correlation is, but when one of his hands slips in between your thighs while the other grasps onto one of your breasts, you don’t care about fighting it out.

“Point is, I mean it. Every word,” he adds.

You feel like a goddess being worshiped as his mouth finds your shoulder, the smacking of his lips omitting into the otherwise quiet room as he places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His middle and ring finger work to toy with your clit, his other hand squeezing onto your breast.

And then… he begins to rock.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock just barely moving inside of you, your body entirely engulfed in the sensations that he is so eagerly providing you.

“You feel—hah—so, so good,” he whispers against your skin, his lips climbing the curve of your shoulder. His fingers circle your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, and when you place your hand on his to guide his movements, he smiles at you in the reflection. “There’s my girl. Such a quick learner, just like I said.”

You lazily return his smile, your head resting back on his shoulder. He removes his hand from your breast to pluck his glasses from his face, placing them on yours instead.

“My baby is such a smart girl,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck as he admires you. Flushed skin, hair messed up, his glasses resting on your nose. He could come inside you at the sight, but he wants to prolong this. He doesn’t ever want to leave this moment with you. “And so beautiful too. Absolutely ravishing.”

You chuckle at that, though your laughter was interrupted by a soft moan as his fingers pick up the pace as they circle your puffy clit. “You’re… hah—handsome,” you manage to return.

Zayne chuckles at your words, nodding his head as a silent thank you. He presses another kiss on your shoulder, though he quickly leaves another one once you begin to rock your hips. He sits back, catching a glimpse of how you look when you bounce on his cock.

He grins, his hand finding the swell of your ass as he gives both cheeks a nice squeeze. “We can move back to our bed if you’d prefer, sweetheart. I don’t want you to have to put in any more effort into your pleasure tonight.”

You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “I wanna see you,” you breathe.

“Honey, there are positions—”

He’s interrupted by your hand reaching back to hold his jaw, pulling him up so that he too could see the reflection of you both in the mirror.

And oh, was it a sight.

“I wanna see you,” you repeat.

Zayne is in no position to deny you, so with a nod of approval, his hands find your hips. “At the very least, let me help you.”

The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans fill the room, his large hands keeping their iron grip on your hip bones while your hands rest on top of his. He peers out from behind you, watching as your tits bounce just as you do, your hair flying messily.

“Pretty baby,” he pants, more to himself in reaction to the mere sight of you. “Such a lucky man you’ve made me, fuck… take it, baby, yeah. I love you so much, so much…” he babbles, not quite sure what he’s saying, just that he’s speaking whatever graces his mind.

“Oh, I�� I love you too, Zayne,” you gasp.

You whine, grinding your hips in fluid motions as you feel your second orgasm quickly approaching. You were sensitive to begin with, and the feeling of his cock stretching you out was more than enough to bring you here.

“Shit,” he rasps, his head falling back onto the rocking chair as his eyes screw shut. “You take me so well, you fit me so perfectly, baby… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… oh, shit.”

You weren’t far behind him, and as your movements grow lazier, you opt to sit on his cock entirely as the both of you find your orgasms only second apart.

Ropes of white paint your insides, your cum coating the base of his cock as the two of you become one in a way that you’ve missed so dearly.

Only bliss envelopes the two of you as you slump back onto his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. The two of you sit just like that for a moment as you find your breaths that have run off, relishing in the feeling of your combined warmth.

Zayne reaches up to carefully grasp your jaw, turning your head back just enough so that he could kiss you. Your breaths mingle to add to the scent of your love that looms in the air, his other hand running soothing strides along your hip.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathlessly says with a lovesick grin. “Quite frankly, I don’t. You’re wonderful to me.”

You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him again before he slowly helps you up onto your trembling legs. “Oh, stop that. Just because you’ve been a little caught up with work doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a bad partner.”

Zayne sweeps you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “See? You’re simply too good to me. Such a lovely personality, the most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard, the cutest snores when you sleep, the sweetest pussy in existence… my dream girl in all capacities.”

You smile as he sets you down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he crosses the room to draw you a shower to your liking. Warm—not cold, but not hot enough to the point that your skin tingles. He’s had plenty of practice in this area, and he’s gotten it down to a science by now.

“I do not snore,” you murmur, shaking your head.

As he peels off his clothes, discarding them without care on the bathroom tile. He extends his hand to you to invite you inside the shower behind him. “Mhm, sure you don’t.”

You scoff, tipping the toilet seat shut. “You can tease me for my snoring once you, my 27-year-old man, master the art of putting the damn seat down.”

“…Oops.”

note. my dr. zayne would never forget to please his woman! but i really liked the concept sooooo :3 it was rly difficult for me to write him lol the dialogue might suuuuuckkkk but i hope i did him justice < 3 thank you for reading, interact if you enjoyed !!!

i ALSO kinda wanna do a similar version of this with sylus except… not nearly as gentle ig?? would you be interested??? do let me know.

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#♥︎ tojicide #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #doctor zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x reader #dr zayne #zayne x you #zayne smut #love and deepspace

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tbaluver · 1 month ago

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New Years Kisses- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader summary: spend the night of new years eve with your lover a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize if this does nawt make sense and if it's cheesy af..i wanted to make something for the end of the year and end the year with something romantical (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ happy new years to everyone ! hoping this year is filled with more happiness and luv ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

divider creds, @/ strangergraphics any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

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Xavier:

Neither of you wanted to be in the crowded city where people rush to find the best spot for the fireworks. The noise and the chaos of the crowd did not feel like the right place to end the year together. Instead, you both seek refuge in the park where luckily not a lot of people had the same idea.

Xavier helps you spread the picnic blanket across the soft grass before you settle down beside each other. He'd drape an extra blanket over the two of you as you nestle closer into him while you both wait together as the minutes pass by slowly.

While you wait, he'd entertain you with his evol. Tiny orbs of light flickered in the air as if they were fireflies floating around the two of you.

As time passed, the distant sound of fireworks began to stir in the air. One by one different variations of colors and shapes fill the sky, the fireflies around you both disappearing under the vibrant lights above you.

Clicking your phone open to find out just one more minute to new years, another year with your lover. You rest your forehead against his until the seconds strike to midnight. His lips finally meeting yours softly, the warmth of your lips enveloping his.

May our days ahead be as bright and beautiful as this moment with you.

Zayne:

Zayne has never been the type to go to parties. He often rejects his colleagues' invitations without hesitation and with some kind of excuse. But things had changed ever since you came into his life, for the better of course. Ever since you two started dating, he’d start showing up to gatherings to his colleagues' surprise.

They had never seen him smile so often whenever you dropped by to bring him lunch or to simply just have a chat with him or how he would actually go home on time just to be with you. They were even more surprised to see him attend the New Year’s party they hosted but they couldn’t hide their happiness for both of you to be there.

At the snack bar, Zayne chats with Greyson, nibbling on macarons while Greyson follows your warning and makes sure that he doesn’t dare sip any sweet alcoholic drink. You were across the room, chatting with Yvonne and with some of the other nurses but his eyes kept flicking over to you as you talked. Your gaze met, a small smile curled up at the corner of his lips as you excuse yourself from the conversation to approach him. Greyson takes the sign, excuses himself and leaves you two alone.

“Would you like to come outside?” At first you wondered if he wasn’t feeling well but there was something in his eyes that made you think something else.

The venue was large and the garden outside was stunning. It reminded you of the garden he plans to have with you once he has the time to nurture it. “We’ll miss the fireworks Zayne,” you pouted, turning around to look back at the crowd disappearing behind you as you both wandered deeper into the garden.

3 2 1 happy new year! the countdown of the crowd echoes far behind you two.

He softly chuckles, making sure to stop at the spot where your favorite flowers bloomed. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his gaze locked with yours as he gently cups your cheek. He leans down, capturing your soft lips with his as the fireworks pops in the background.

May our love continue to grow for all the years to come

Rafayel:

New Year's Eve had become a bore all thanks to Thomas, who ruined both of your plans by setting up Rafayel for an event that was known to be one of the biggest one of the year. It was filled with celebrities, critics, and most importantly buyers. Neither of you wanted to be there. Endless parade of people continue to talk to him about his latest artwork or ask him about his future plans. It was all too much. He just wanted to be with you.

You spent the whole night separated as the crowd pulled him away again and again. But when Rafayel finally manages to escape from the recent group, he grabs your hand and you both slip away from the event, laughing as you run down the street.

Rafayel leads the way, your hand firmly in his, the scent of the beach drifting you both with each step. His tie hung loosely around his neck and a few of his buttons were undone. The cool night air brushed against your skin as laughter bubbles between the two of you.

As you reach a secluded part of the beach, far away from the noise and chaos, Rafayel turns to you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly, spinning you around, your foreheads touching.

He leans in closer, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek. His lips brushed against yours softly, “One for the past,” he murmurs. Before you can react, he leans back in again, fireworks exploding in the distance. “And one for the present,” he whispers against your lips.

For all the years we have ahead, may they be as sweet as tonight.

Sylus:

The N109 zone was apparently coming down with hard fog so no fireworks can be seen during the night. Luckily Sylus had no plans during the new years but however he is not being caught down in the city in Linkon with that crowd, making him clutch his pearls.

With just an easy pick of the lock using his evol, you two were found in one of the highest buildings to have the best view of the fireworks, just the two of you alone. You two draw small figures in the snow until some fireworks exploded early.

Little did you know he had some shapes of fireworks planned out for you. One a crow and one a dove that symbolized you two both and he couldn’t help but softly chuckly seeing your awe expression as the bright colors reflect in your eyes.

“it’s so pretty sy!”

“it sure is.” he says not leaving his eyes on you.

As the voices below began to countdown the final seconds to midnight, the air between you two thickened with anticipation. Without a word you leaned in closer, your faces drawing together. The final seconds to the new year ticked away as Sylus’s lips meet yours, his hand sliding to the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

To an eternity of happiness with you

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coastalhorrors · 2 years ago

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Be prepared for much lily munster in the future, I'm obsessed with her

#yvonne de carlo is SO beautiful i need to be her as lily NOW #xoxo

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jesncin · 5 months ago

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Caped Crusader, "Safe Diversity", and Catwoman

We're at a point where it's expected that a new incarnation of any story previously with a white-dominated cast would be reimagined with a "more diverse" cast. This can mean racebending them, genderbending them or making them queer, but for the purposes of this analysis we'll be focusing on racebends. Most of the time, executives will take the "safer" routes with diversifying their cast- pick a couple of unproblematic supporting characters to be incidentally "diverse this time". Other times, there might be "braver" takes where more prominent characters (perhaps even the main character) are racebent. This doesn't necessarily mean racebending prominent characters is an inherently better thing to do.

I've been more than critical of MAWS' portrayal of BIPOC characters but especially their Asian Lois before. Sometimes BIPOC representation is just a decorative palette-swap change for these shows. Caped Crusader however, is different. It's more complicated- but it's rooted in very similar problems. Unlike MAWS (though I can only speak for S1), CC is far more willing to take on political topics: classism, sexism, police corruption and brutality, even beauty standards in the entertainment industry! Yet, in choosing to portray these topics in their stylistically anachronistic 30s-40s set piece- it makes it so the show's reluctance to discuss race intersecting with any of these topics far more apparent.

(spoilers for all of Caped Crusader)

Take for instance, episode 2: "...And Be A Villain". The story is about Basil Karlo, a less than handsome actor who wishes his appearance wasn't holding him back from both love and playing roles saved for better looking people. He makes a deal with Jack Ellman, an experimental makeup artist who turns him into Clayface. This story is set in motion when Miss Yvonne Francis, a beautiful actress, goes missing. Miss Francis is a woman of color (brown skinned, unspecified) played by Lacey Chabert: a white actress. CC goes for a generally colorblind casting what with Stephie (a white girl) being voiced by Amari McCoy (a Black actress) but it always feels icky when a white actor voices a character of color. Prominent characters of color in CC are more accurately casted. However I do think animation should be wary of using their medium to get away with their show appearing more diverse than the actual talent behind it.

The episode's theme is pretty clear on how unfair the entertainment industry is in regards to who it prioritizes in leading roles. Basil is constantly emphasized as a tragically talented actor whose appearance is holding him back. "With your talent you should be a leading man, Basil." Yvonne says to Basil in a flashback. Meanwhile as Alfred is watching through movie clips featuring Yvonne and Basil together, he comments "while lovely to look at, Miss Francis is no Gloria Swanson." So Yvonne has the looks, but not the talent and still gets prestigious roles because that's showbiz. The only time this is weirdly inconsistent is when Yvonne calls out Basil/Clayface in the finale, saying:

"I don't believe your performance. You're chewing on scenery. Relying on makeup effects to enhance weak characterization. It's insincere, Basil. It's not real."

I honestly feel like this scene was just meant to quickly "subvert" Yvonne being a damsel in distress by having her call out Basil's acting. It's a moment that isn't reinforced by anything the episode set up. After all, according to Alfred, she's not as good an actor compared to Basil. That's supposed to be how they foil each other, so this moment feels unmotivated. Again, I get what they're going for, that Basil's performance ironically relies on his newfound appearance so much that even a bad actress like Yvonne can spot his meager acting. But it doesn't work when our protagonists were actually convinced by his imitation of others. She's still a damsel in distress character regardless of her having a bit of attitude when calling her captor out.

What I don't understand is: why make Yvonne a woman of color if this was the story you wanted to tell? It's not like they're paying homage to how her voice actress looks, after all. Why, in your story set in purposely anachronistic 30s-40s era noir, did the character who was meant to represent the epitome of "not talented but gets by the industry because of her conventional beauty and pretty privilege" a woman of color? We're missing the very obvious conversation here where Tinsel Town is a white industry with white biases to what it considers attractive. It doesn't matter how many attractive actors of color exist, they're still pigeon holed into stereotyped and often racist roles (especially back then), and have to work twice as hard to get the opportunities their white colleagues get. Why is Basil, a white man, the only one afforded a marginalized narrative when Yvonne is quite literally a woman of color right next to him? The episode is especially painful to sit through when Basil is afforded so much sympathy compared to Yvonne.

"He didn't have the right look. He didn't have the right face."

"The camera is kind to some, but cruel to others."

This is transparently a colorblind narrative. Yvonne is written and even casted as a white woman. The CC crew just decided she should be a WOC likely because "wouldn't it be neat if the beautiful actress in this story is POC" without thinking about how that would drastically change a narrative already critical of the showbiz industry based on appearances. It's not intersectional and flattens the narrative to being selective of the prejudices Tinsel Town has. This episode is a great example to what CC generally does with diversity. It's not afraid to be critical of society, but it gets oddly squeamish with discussing how race intersects with these topics- opting mostly for a palette-change type of representation.

It's not entirely fair to say CC doesn't ever touch on the topic of racism. It sort of does: if you read between the lines for why the mayor gives Jim Gordon his commissioner role, and more prominently with the Gentleman Ghost (a rich aristocrat ghost that steals from the poor, believing wealth is his right) being offended that his mansion is sold to Lucius Fox (saying "and you would sell it to rabble like this?")- racism is somewhat present in the world of CC. We see the women in this show experience misogyny, but it's ambiguous if any of their struggles are intersectional with that of race. But that's... just about it. Racism isn't discussed more than it is alluded to, whenever the writers decide it's relevant. Because of this, CC has a spectrum of hits and misses when it comes to integrating characters of color in their reimagined cast.

Here's how I would visualize that spectrum using canonized instances of Asian Lois Lane. I should emphasize that representation of people of color doesn't entail the narrative owing us "a racism arc" or what have you. This spectrum is more used to measure how much racial identity was integrated in the characterization of the character: whether that be cultural identity or history. Being a person of color isn't just "person who goes through racism".

This is how I'd personally place the prominent characters of color in CC on my "spectrum of racebends" chart. Generally most of the characters of color (whether reimagined that way or were originally POC already) are fairly harmless in how they were integrated into CC's world, but none of the characters feel bespoke as a reimagining of the character and are interchangeable with their white counterparts. To quote cartoonist Juni Ba (in a discussion on CC):

"...stripping characters of color in these time period stories of any cultural, [a]esthetic or social signifiers that’d make them true to the groups being represented. Instead they dress, act and speak very western."

In my opinion, the only character that is an exception to this is Linton Midnite (or as he's popularly known as: "Papa Midnite"). Midnite is a character so interlinked with Haitian culture and mysticism that even CC couldn't erase that aspect of his identity (important note: historically, the portrayal of Midnite since his creation is riddled in racism, but that's not my place to discuss here). Midnite at most speaks with an accent, dresses more nonconformingly compared to the western standard dress of all the other characters, and practices occultish stuff (though I don't think there was anything culturally specific in that episode, please correct me otherwise if someone has more insight!). That's a lot more cultural representation than just about any other character of color in CC. Midnite can't be changed to a white character, his African identity is too interlinked with who he is.

There are a few characters I consider in poor taste to be POC- that being Arnold Flass, Yvonne Francis (who we've covered already), and Harley Quinn (who will be getting her own post, as her case is complicated). So let's talk about cops, then.

I tend to be indifferent about media choosing to diversify cop characters because it feels like choosing the most "respectable to society" role for a marginalized character to play. Cops uphold bigoted systems of power at the end of the day, so that's a very comfortable place to represent your marginalized characters. It's why we keep getting gay or lesbian cops, which Batman media absolutely perpetuates as well with Renee Montoya. It's hard to cheer for two women of color being allowed to date and kiss in public when one of them is a cop, y'know? But this doesn't mean re-imagining cop characters doesn't have narrative merit.

In regards to Jim Gordon being reimagined as a Black cop, I'm gonna refer to La'Ron Readus' video on "Fixing the Batman's Copaganda problem" where he goes into detail about the missed potential of Black!Jim Gordon from Reeves' The Batman (2022). Generally, I felt that opportunity was missed in CC as well. While I love that Barbara Gordon is in CC, nothing about her being a WOC is integrated into this version of her. It felt like if either character was white, the story wouldn't be that different. The bigger issue here is the choice to racebend Arnold Flass- a previously white, blonde, cunningly smart, and brutally corrupt cop.

CC follows some of this in their version of Arnold Flass- he's paired with Harvey Bullock (also a corrupt cop). While Bullock is the brawns of the duo, Flass is the smarts. He's cunning and even implied to be willing to frame Bullock if the worse comes to it. It isn't an inherently bad idea to racebend a corrupt white cop into a Black cop. If the writers want to tell a story about how the police force assimilates people of color into the system and forces them to be just as if not more brutal than their white counterparts, then by all means tell that story.

But that's not what CC gave us. By rarely acknowledging race, we don't get to have a conversation or themes surrounding that delicate intersection of identities. We just have "diverse Flass". Look at these panels from Year One for example, can you imagine how Flass' casual disrespect for Gordon by constantly calling him "Jimmy" could be re-contextualized with a race change? Unlike other characters who just feel like missed opportunities for not integrating race into their characterization, Flass is an elephant in the room. To not acknowledge his race in themes of police corruption and brutality is to white wash the narrative with diverse paint.

I personally think the stronger narrative decision would have been to racebend Bullock as Black instead of Flass. Flass could still be the conniving cop, but he encourages Black!Bullock to be the more "violent brute" who does the dirty work for him. It would put a newfound racial layer to how Flass considers Bullock disposable. Then we could have some kind of commentary on how the police force encourages a system of abuse that makes even fellow POC turn on each other. It'd also make it so a certain scene would be better in optics.

I have many criticisms for the scene where Batman holds a gun to Flass in the finale of CC. It's a narratively unmotivated (see my criticisms for CC's Two Face here for elaboration) and weak moment that relies on metatextual shock value to cover up how underdeveloped this take on Batman is. But it's also just very uncomfortable optics-wise. It's a common and valid criticism that Batman as a character can very easily fall into copaganda, with his status, goals, and collaboration with the police force. In many ways, Batman is often written to be committing his own kind of vigilante police brutality.

Caped Crusader wants to be a deconstruction of a Batman tied to power and hellbent on his mission to eliminate crime. But because CC occasionally omits race from its narrative, the scene where Batman holds a gun to a Black cop-a man stripped of his ability to fight back-just falls flat for me. There's no acknowledgement in this scene that Batman basically gets to be an anonymous cop, "warning shots" and all. Batman shoots at an unarmed Black man several times. It's meant to be shocking to us how Bruce is willing to stoop to such a level and indulge in gratuitous gun violence, but it honestly hits too close to real incidents where this is racially the case for me to enjoy the narrative point of this scene.

You know a character who would be perfect for calling out Batman's many privileges? Selina Kyle. Let's talk about Caped Crusader's biggest downgrade.

I've heard just about all the arguments in favor for CC's reimagining of Catwoman and none have convinced me that this was in any way a good take on the character. I see people saying that this Catwoman is a return to her golden age roots, and there's a lot of misconception surrounding that assumption. So bear with me as looking at Catwoman's history is necessary to discuss race and how a character evolves.

Catwoman debuted in the 1940s as a jewel thief who disguised herself as an old lady. She was just called "The Cat" and would not don her more feline appearance until later. True to the mystery woman femme fatale trope she was inspired by, her backstory was left unknown for a long time. 10 years later, in Batman #62 it is revealed that after a plane accident bonked her head, the now named Selina Kyle got amnesia and went on a crime spree. Giving her leeway to reform and be an ally to Batman. This would historically inform how Selina Kyle toed the line between good and evil as an anti-hero.

Her origin would be revisited in 1983, in the Brave and the Bold #197. Although not canon to the mainline universe, it is still a crucial development for her character's history. In this story, Selina reveals that she lied about having amnesia to get out of facing punishment. Her true story was that she entered a life of crime to escape an abusive relationship with a rich man. The only loss her husband understood was material loss, loss of property, so stealing was how Selina fought back.

This crucial re-examination of her character transformed her from shenanigans inducing femme fatale, to a marginalized fighter. Shortly later in 1987 in Batman Year One, Catwoman is reimagined as a street-hardened sex worker in poverty. She is inspired by the Batman to become a vigilante for her own goals and gets annoyed that she's assumed to be his sidekick.

The moment Catwoman became marginalized by power, was the point where she became worthy of solo-character status. She was not only a compelling foil to Batman-capable of going toe to toe with him and make him question his motives even though she did not share his privilege-she could lead her own adventures reflecting a side of Gotham Bruce Wayne's perspective doesn't. She actively makes the setting of Gotham stronger because of how she's evolved as a character.

Catwoman's character would continue to evolve, with some iterations reimagining her as a latina woman and others where she's canonically bisexual.

While Catwoman has been portrayed by Black actresses before, I want to focus on the most recent and prominent iteration of a race-swapped Catwoman. When Matt Reeves' The Batman (2022) featured Zoe Kravitz as Selina Kyle, an explicitly biracial character within the text of the story, we see another step this character evolves. I think La'Ron Readus' video on "Why Race-Swapped Characters Are Not The Full Story" does a fantastic job of explaining why this is a narratively great race swap. To summarize (though I do encourage watching his video as he goes into depth about 2022 Batman's Jim Gordon as well among many other examples) and add analysis of my own: Selina being the byproduct of an Italian crime lord and a Black sex worker is a brilliant marriage of her original backstory (being connected to and abused by powerful men) and her modern backstory where she's poverty stricken (and tangentially related to a sex worker if we're talking about Batman Year One).

We understand why someone of her background would have an affinity for stray cats because of how she lost her mom at a young age, she is sympathetic to fellow people from the lower class, and explicitly calls out privileged white people- including Batman who attempted to over moralize Selina's partner as a sex worker.

"All anyone cares about in this place, are these white privileged assholes."

It's especially that last line that makes it so Selina's character isn't interchangeable with her white counterpart. She's a textually rich character to contrast Bruce in Batman 2022, and we can see how years of history and evolution has brought such an empathetic character to the screen. Interestingly, Readus feels that while 2022 Selina was an example of a race-swap that works, he believes it was great by coincidence, because of the miss that was Gordon's characterization in the same movie. I think with Reeves as a collaborator on Caped Crusader, that assumption was correct.

Selina in CC is back to being a rich socialite, but (unlike her Golden Age counterpart) she's not married into wealth- she's got generational wealth (with a dad serving jail time for tax evasion). Worse yet, she's taking what little remains of her money and spending it on superficially imitating the Batman to create her Catwoman persona. She even has her own reluctant Alfred, a Catmobile, the works. Selina steals things because. She likes shiny things. And is something of a kleptomaniac. Catwoman is instantly discovered to be Selina because of course she's not as good as Batman is with keeping a secret identity (another key difference from her Golden Age counterpart, whose backstory was shrouded in mystery for a decade).

It is laughable to me that CC touts that their version of Harley Quinn has an origin of her own outside of the Joker, only to turn around and make a Catwoman that is completely tied to copying a man as her origin (did they decide Harley's goofyness as a character needed to be replicated in Selina for some reason? In their supposed dark and edgy show?). What a strange choice to fixate on the part in Year One where Selina didn't like being mistaken for Batman's assistant despite being inspired by him and turn it into a quirky bit. It feels like such a regressive take that frames Selina as a sillier, whimsical version of Bruce that just spends money on a whim because women just aren't smart enough to know how to keep track of their money. They're too busy looking for shiny things to steal. The fact that both 2022 Batman and CC have a scene where Selina is looking through her many bills she's yet to pay is wild to me. How am I supposed to care for a Selina that has the expendable wealth to create a Catwoman costume, car, and gadgets, but delay paying her maid? One of these versions of Selina is far more sympathetic than the other.

Again, I get what CC is going for. Batman is characterized to be hellbent on catching criminals, Catwoman is supposed to serve as some kind of reflection of his obsession. They're both self destructive in their goals, but one is vengeance and the other is chasing thrills. But is that really as interesting a foil as having Catwoman be marginalized, just as skilled, and making Batman second guess himself? Is it a take that strengthens Gotham as a setting by shedding light on its lower class characters? Is it a take that makes her worth revisiting as a perpetual rogue and not a one off episode where's she's basically a shenanigans-inducing nuisance to Batman? Evolved takes on Catwoman have talked about her desire to seek thrills and paired it with how she dismantles power. So it's not like CC's take is particularly unique, it just lacks all the depth that usually surrounds Selina's thrill seeking.

In a show that is frankly desperate to make it so Bruce doesn't have a personal relationship to his rogues gallery because he's too busy being "A cold, remorseless avenger of evil, seemingly more machine than man. Forged in the fire of tragedy, every fiber of his being is dedicated to the eradication of crime." (according to promo) that's how we end up with Barbara as the foil and humanity to both Harvey Dent and Harley Quinn. How the show focuses on the police force more than Bruce. It feels especially pointed that Catwoman is characterized this way. When she doesn't contrast Bruce, she becomes less personal to him as a character that is poverty stricken but still matches up to him in skill. She can't challenge him or his worldview, he can't find her fascinating as an equal, all of their chemistry and intrigue is erased.

All this to say that of the characters revealed for CC, I was honestly surprised that Selina wasn't one of the many characters racebent. CC followed up on a Black Jim and Barbara Gordon, two characters that have been race swapped before in previous media. Most prominently! Harley is Asian in this iteration, something never done before. So why is it that Selina doesn't follow up on the many times she's been portrayed by Black actresses?

It's because it's an actual good racebend if written well. It wouldn't be a "safe" racebend because writing Selina this way means you'd have to acknowledge racism, and it would be much more noticeable if you didn't. There is no canonized version of Asian Lois Lane that parallels her relationship to Superman as an immigrant. But there is a version of Selina as a Black woman who directly calls out white people and is aware of systemic power. It's in something as prominent and mainstream as Matt Reeves' 2022 Batman. So instead it just reads as cowardice to me that CC couldn't follow up on this evolution of Selina.

Not only does it weaken Catwoman and Batman's relationship to regress Selina this way, but it actively weakens Gotham as a setting and the very themes of Caped Crusader. I personally think all the energy that went into Harley Quinn should have been shared with (or straight up gone to) Selina Kyle. Because unlike CC's take on Harley, the way Selina Kyle's marginalization intersects with race and queerness would have actually critiqued Gotham's class corruption effectively. As a Black queer woman, Selina would be among the most vulnerable people in Gotham. We don't have prominent characters in CC that truly reflect the lower class, there are these unnamed characters Harvey Dent sits next to on a train. There are some orphans with Batfam names. A proper Catwoman reimagining that takes advantage of her evolution would have filled this gap in their narrative.

But that's not how "safe diversity" works. CC would rather racebend and canonize the queerness of a character like their take on Harley Quinn. A WOC who gets to kiss a cop and call out powerful men, but not in a way that makes white people uncomfortable.

If I could edit the Sandman quote that "The great stories will always return to their original forms" for Superheroes, I'd say "The great stories will always return to their most resonant forms" because without iterations we don't get characters like the Kents, Alfred or Catwoman as we know her today. Classics are good to look to, but we like these characters because they evolve. In my opinion, none of CC's takes on these characters of color feel resonant. They're not definitive to the level of Mister Freeze's tragic love story in BTAS, among many standout narrative choices in BTAS that continue across media iterations.

In my opinion, CC isn't as thoroughly clumsy as MAWS is in regards to POC representation and race-swaps (all characters of color in MAWS get put in the left side of that chart I made. In the Sunken Place. Where they all Missed The Movement). However, I can't help but see Caped Crusader's take on the world of Gotham as nothing more than an anecdote in the evolution of Batman's story for the modern era. "It's BTAS but superficially more diverse and with less compelling narrative choices."

#ramblings #caped crusader spoilers #jesncin talks caped crusader #jesncin dc meta #long post under the cut #catwoman #rememberrr pls be nice these are just my thoughts

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purintarts · 1 year ago

Text

Doctors aren't always smart | ZAYNE | LnD

"...So many doctors here. This should be the most safest place if somebody gets injured or something," I muttered.

"It is even better if nobody gets hurt - especially the lady accompanying me," Zayne whispered into my ear as he takes my hand to lead me inside.

Zayne invited me to the Annual Linkon Doctor's Banquet. Doctors all across Linkon's hospitals are here.

It's a good place for medical personnels to connect with each other and they are allowed to bring a guest. Some were bringing their spouses, others brought their apprentice, or just another doctor friend from other cities.

It's a great place to learn from each other and - ehem - job oppourtunities.

"Dr Zayne! I finally get to meet you after a whole year!" a man around Zayne's age greets him.

"Dr Hale, it's been a while," Zayne greets him with a handshake.

They share a curt pleasant greetings before Dr Hale turned to me.

"And who might this beautiful lady be?"

Zayne places his hand on my waist as he introduces me.

"This is MC, my lover"

"It's nice to meet you Dr Hale," I smiled.

"Nice to meet you too, what do you do MC?" Dr Hale smiles at me.

"I am a Hunter"

What is just me? It seems like Dr Hale's smile dropped slightly. I saw his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

To those who do not have a keen eye, they would not notice that momentarily switch as he expertly changed his facial expression back.

"...I see. Physical job"

Dr Hale took his eyes off me and went back to talk to Zayne about medical topics.

"????? interventricular septum ???? precision ????? veins were too compact ????"

Yeah... I was lost.

Seeing how they excitedly talk to one another, I busied myself by admiring the well decorated banquet hall.

"It's nice talking to you Dr Hale, I'll excuse myself," Zayne's voice pulled me out from my daze.

Zayne walked away with me.

"Bored?" He asked

"I know what I signed up for when I agreed to your invitation," I shrugged.

"We'll leave after my speech," he squeezed my hand as he led me to a group made of two doctors, an elder medical researcher with his wife, and their apprentices.

A round of greetings were shared and curt introduction.

"My wife used to research on your topic Dr Zayne," the elder professor proudly mentiones.

"I am aware, I used a few of your papers as my reference," Zayne stated making the elder lady chuckled.

"I hope my papers can be of help to you," she beams.

I smiled and nodded at their conversation but I can't help ignoring the two doctors glances at me.

It was becoming quite annoying how they glance at me up and down. Although they did it discreetly, it is still obvious in a hunter's eye.

For some odd reason, the doctors here either inspect me thoroughly or ignored me but cutting me off from their conversation.

I never experienced this before with Akso's doctors but it made me anxious.

Was there something wrong with my dress? Is there something on my face? Did I do something wrong?

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," I smiled giving Zayne a glance.

Zayne looked at me with a question-mark and I leaned in.

"Ladies," I whispered and he nodded.

"Hurry back"

I walked as fast as I could to the ladies and locked myself in the cubicle. Putting the cover down, I sat down and fumbled with my purse.

I feel so suffocated and restless. I turned on my front camera to check my appearance.

There was nothing wrong except my lipstick fading from the drinks. I topped up my lipstick when I heard a couple of footsteps walking in.

"I can't believe Dr Zayne is dating a hunter," a voice chimes.

My hand froze.

"I know. It is so mismatched. For a genius like Dr Zayne, I thought he would go for someone like Yvonne. She's the most beautiful person in healthcare in Linkon city,"

"Yvonne will match Dr Zayne better. I saw how they work together, they complement each other well,"

Yvonne... I know that name. I recalled seeing her name on Zayne's likes every now and then.

...she is pretty.

"I guess you can't always be perfect. His peculiar taste in women must be his flaw"

I felt a stung on my heart.

The hurt grew more intense as I hear their footsteps walking out.

"No... don't cry," I looked up as I felt tear brimming my eyes.

I blinked the tears away and let out a deep sigh.

I promised Zayne to watch his speech, I'll leave right after.

I mustered the courage and walked out from the ladies room. Just as I was about to walk into a hall, I heard my name in a conversation.

"I heard her name was MC, a hunter," a masculine voice sounded.

Dr Hale?

"I tried to match Dr Zayne a couple of times with another doctor and he always refused. When I heard he has a lover, I wonder what kind of genius managed to swoon him. I am dissappointed," he spoke.

I felt the tears brimming in my eyes again.

"They won't last long. People outside our field will never understand our jobs. She looks so lost in our conversation just now. It's a pity,"

"She'll leave sooner or later. She won't be able to handle his job,"

"I remember Dr Vincent got dumped by his former lover. She threw a fit and cheated on him. Poor lad did not date anyone since,"

"Pretty sure this MC girl will do the same soon,"

"She's a hunter, aside from wanderers, I am pretty sure she will hunt other lowly men-"

A pair of hands cupped my ears. I glanced behind me to see Zayne's furious face.

"Don't listen to them,"

He turned me around to face him and wiped the tears that I didn't realised had fallen with his fingers.

"aa..." I pulled away and covered my face with my hands, "I made a mistake Zayne, I should leave,"

Zayne pulled me into his arms as he rubbed my back with his hands.

"I apologize. My selfish desire of wanting you here has hurt you," he sighed.

Listening to his words made the tears fell more.

"Zayne... I-"

I heard the sound of the microphone.

"We would like to invite Dr Zayne on his recent research!"

I heard people clapping and cheering.

"Go, hurry," I gently pushed him away, giving him the biggest smile I can managed.

Zayne had guilt all over his face.

"Dr Zayne?" the person on stage called out.

I nudged him and he sighed.

"Wait for me," he stated before making his way to the stage with a professional emotionless face.

Taking his place in front of the microphone, he greeted the hall and began his speech.

Not wanting to go into the banquet hall. I stayed near the entrance, excluding myself from the crowd.

I admiringly gaze at Zayne. His confidence and words were put together beautifully till he has everyone's attention on him.

I heard his speech a few times and even read the books he used as reference. It is the only topic I am well-versed in tonight.

"Thank you for your time. Most importantly, I would like to thank my lover, MC for being my strongest supporter. She plays a big part in my research by helping me think outside of the box, outside of the papers," Zayne looked at my direction.

"With her presence, I discovered that making a break-through isn't just about researching and conduct tests. A different perspective is required outside of the medical field that helps to close the gap. I couldn't ask for a better partner," he let out a small smile.

The people around me gasped.

"Did Dr Zayne just smiled?!!" "This is the first time I saw him smile!!"

I feel my cheeks flushed red and look down on my feet.

Well, that definitely made me wonder what I was crying about.

Zayne closed his speech and got off the stage. The people congratulated him as he walked pass them.

It took a while for him to reach me. Zayne took a hold of my hand, and nodded at the exit.

"Shall we take our leave now?" he smiled.

I nodded and followed him out.

That night, as MC was snoozing away in Zayne's bed.

Zayne played with her hair as he admiringly gaze at her sleeping face.

He knew this was going to happened some day, he was sorry that he couldn't protect her from it.

Doctors are not smart every time.

The amount of medical personnel who broke up due their colleagues' influence.

We cannot date someone outside the medical field, they don't understand our job

Pretty girls wouldn't want nerdy people like us, they will just fool around

Don't fall in love, you'll just end up heartbroken

Zayne re-called when he mentioned MC was a hunter and there was a big fuss when they accidentally saw MC's picture on his phone.

That was the first time Zayne was annoyed with his colleague over a personal matter.

"I do not recall asking for relationship advice"

They stopped talking about relationships to Zayne after that.

He had went on a date with a researcher and even a doctor but they could not give him the excitement that MC had given him.

It was always science and work when he is with them. Although he likes research, sometimes, he wishes to take a break from work and everything related to work.

That is when MC comes in.

She invokes different emotions in him, her thought process is truly different that sometimes, he wishes to check what is going on in her head.

"Zayne, I am craving for toast and eggs. You made good toast and eggs," she blinked her puppy eyes at him.

"Well if you study right before the test, your memories is much stronger compared to learning weeks before you know~" she shrugs.

When she does talks about science... the more he doesn't understand.

"Zayne, I want to learn anatomy today," MC unbuckled his belt.

...

Zayne pulled himself out from his thought process as he looked down at the sleeping MC next to him.

Doctors are not always smart indeed. There is more to science than just books.

"...darling, I feel like learning anatomy again tonight," Zayne whispered.

MC tossed and turned in her sleep.

"study tomorrow... sleep now..." she mumbles before snoring.

Zayne chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her.

There are many things doctors needs to learn outside from books.

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x you

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mysaintkitten · 1 year ago

Note

smut with cillian murphy at the golden globes? am i crazy?

Claim Your Prize | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

!!disclaimer!! this fic does Not represent Cillian as a person, we love and support Yvonne here. this is simply for fun/fantasy! :3

WARNINGS: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public-ish sex, mirrors are involved, kind of sweet sex i think lol, creampie (of course)

“And the award goes to …”

A moment of silence and anticipation fills the room as the announcers carefully pry open the envelop containing the winners name. Beneath the table, you anxiously grab Cillian’s hand. He squeezes it gently in response.

“Cillian Murphy!”

As soon as his name escapes their lips, a wave of relief and appreciation crash over you. Finally, the most hardworking man you know is getting the admiration he deserves.

The people around you clap and cheer, and before Cillian heads up to accept his award you give him a quick hug and a kiss. A brief glimpse into the intimacy the two of you regularly share, yet are never public about it.

It then all becomes a beautiful, hectic blur. As cillian stands in front of everyone accepting his award, he seems to find all the right words to say, and all the right ways to say it. All you can do is stand back and watch him, giving him your utmost respect as he gives his thanks.

When his speech is over and the announcers move on to the next category, you get up from your table to meet Cillian half way. Since the rooms so tightly packed, the best route along the outer edges. As soon as he makes you out in the crowd he smiles happily at you, his eyes beaming with energy and gratitude.

Once you’re face to face, he hugs you again, tighter, finally getting a chance to hold you like he’d initially wanted to when they first announce his win.

Whilst getting ready earlier, you couldn’t help but brainstorm different ways to “reward” Cillian if he won. He isn’t very materialistic, and you knew that the only thing he truly wanted from you was your support, to stand by him whether he won or lost.

But you wanted more, you had to give him something you knew he needed after all these gruelling months of seemingly endless work.

So, after slipping into your dress for the event, you slipped off your panties directly after. Wanting Cillian to have as easy access as possible if he wins.

And now you’re here, wearing no panties underneath your dress, while hugging your winner of a husband.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper softly in his ear, turning your head a bit more to give him a kiss on the cheek, “so proud.”

He hums back, briefly nuzzling into your kisses before copying your gestures and kissing you on the cheek, leaving small quick pecks until he ended up back at your lips where he kissed you properly.

The kiss is passionate, warm, not yet sexual but you knew how easily it could fall into that territory.

“I have a gift for you,” you purr in his ear before dragging your fingers along his back, planting a small kiss on his neck and then pulling away.

“What is it?” Cillian asks, earnestly curious, he looks down for a moment but quickly realizes you aren’t carrying anything with you. With a mischievous grin, you grab his hand and lead him away to a private area. You’re able to sneak away quite easily, everyone else is much too fixated on the next winner anyway.

The hallways are vacant for the most part, a few scattered workers here and there, but all you’re thinking about is getting Cillian alone.

Whilst roaming the halls, you spot the bathroom. A unisex, single bathroom. Although it’s not ideal, it’s the best you’ll find in a place like this. Once Cillian sees where you’re heading, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what your “gift” may entail.

After taking one more good look around, you decide the coast is clear enough and you both sneak into the bathroom before promptly locking the door.

It’s nothing special. A toilet, a sink, a mirror, what you’d normally expect to find in a bathroom. Luckily for you, the room had clearly just been cleaned. The counters and mirrors were spotless, and it smelt faintly of lemon and fresh laundry.

You swiftly turn around to face Cillian, placing your hands on the counter behind you, that sneaky little grin still spread across your lips.

With an equally naughty smile, Cillian presses his body against yours, him too placing his hands on the counter.

“So, what kind of gift does my lovely wife have in mind?” Cillian teases, kissing you gently on the lips, his voice lowers before he speaks again. “One that we need to be all alone for …”

The warmth between your legs intensifies, and the pressure of his body alone is enough to make your brain fuzzy. You drape your arms around his neck, briefly running your fingers through his hair.

“Just wanted to give you a little something that I know you’ve been missing,” you coo innocently, “something that you deserve after all this long …”

You pause for effect,

“And hard …” your voice becomes breathier as bring an arm down off his neck and snake it between your bodies, your grasp landing between his legs to palm him through his trousers, “work.”

Cillian growls, deeply inhaling your sweet and comforting smell, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Quickly, Cillian turns you around, your hips now against the edge of the counter top. And now, you’re met with your own reflection. Both you and Cill with flushed cheeks and slightly messy hair, your makeup smeared around the edges of your lips while Cillian’s have a faint red-ish hue from your lipstick.

“I’ve missed this, too,” you sigh as your arousal stirs within you, at this point you don’t doubt that your wetness has made its way to your inner thighs. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“S’all thanks to you, really …” Cillian groans against your neck, kissing the skin hungrily. “You’re the only thing that’s kept me fuckin’ sane throughout all of this.”

“Cill …” you giggle at his sweet words, your fingers carding through his hair while he stands behind you, his grip on your hips tightens and you feel him roll his hips against your ass. His warm bulge just begging to be freed.

“Honest,” he defends, “while I was on set, or late at night when I couldn’t sleep, the only thing that brought me peace was you.”

Despite how sweet Cillian’s being, you didn’t take him in here to some exchange kind words or swap some spit.

“You’ve got me here now,” you make eye contact in the mirror, his pupils blown and swimming with lust, “claim your prize.”

The palms of his run along your stomach, his head dipping down to place a kiss onto your neck before bringing his eyes back up to your reflection. Those same palms find your hips, gently gripping the soft skin before sliding his hands down further around your thighs.

He begins to grab at the material hanging down your legs, attempting to hike up your dress as best he can. You bite your lip and give him some assistance in pulling up the fabric, eager for him to see the little surprise you have for him.

Once your dress is lifted up enough, Cillian groans at the beauty in front of him. Your ass on clear display, no panties or tights obstructing his view.

“Were you like this the entire time?”

He watches you nod, a proud smile spread across your lips with your bottom lip still tucked between your teeth. With a smirk he shakes his head, quickly unzipping and unbuttoning his trousers. He pulls them down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, and you feel his hot member pressing against your ass.

Cillian dips a hand down between your legs from behind, trailing his middle finger along the slick seam of your pussy. He dips his finger in, moaning lowly at the warmth and wetness of your core.

“Jesus, baby. Missed my cock that badly, huh?”

You nod while watching him through the mirror, completely transfixed by the sensation of his body against yours along with Cillian’s effortless beauty and sex appeal. You’ve never had a partner that knew which buttons to press as well as Cillian, he could read you like a book.

A small sharp inhale is sucked from your lips when you feel the tip of his length teasing your pussy, smearing your arousal around before gently prodding at your opening.

“Look at yourself when I put it in.” Cillian purrs in your ear, sneaking a large hand up to your neck, gripping your neck and jaw and moving your head forward, forcing you to face your own pleasure.

Already you feel some small amounts of embarrassment, your cheeks are all flushed and your hairs all messy- how could you look so ruined already?

Before you can think too much, Cillian’s pushing his cock inside, slowly. You watch yourself as your mouth starts to hang open, and your brows pinch together. You feel his cock nearly splitting you open, giving you that oh so familiar sweet stretch that you’d been craving after all this time.

“You’ve gotten so fuckin’ tight …” Cillian groans from behind, his warm breath against your neck causing your body to shiver. “You missed getting filled up like this, sweetheart?”

You nod, panting heavily while barely being able to keep your eyes open. His hips roll back out before harshly snapping back in, forcing a pathetic whimper to slip from your lips.

“Yes, yes!” You moan, gripping the edge of the counter as Cillian’s grip on your jaw tightens. Your eyes crack back open and you see your own face again, the pure pleasure he’s giving you leaves you almost unrecognizable in your own eyes. “Missed y-you and your cock-k so much … love you so much …”

It wasn’t very common of either of you to say ‘I love you’ during sex. You’d say it regularly before and after the act, but during? Rarely happened. But since you’ve missed Cillian so much, and he’s been so busy, and now that all his hard work has paid off- it only felt right.

Well, that and the fact that you were already getting cock drunk off of him, your brain barely processing whatever words are coming from your mouth.

“Love you too, darling.” He breathes, kissing your neck while thrusting into you roughly, your hips pushing so harshly against the counter you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care. If anything, you want it to bruise. You want the physical reminder that your husband gave you a good, hard fucking after so many months of separation.

“Love your face, and how cute you look when you’ve got a cock inside you,” Cillian teases, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your neck again. “Love this pussy …”

“Fuck-“ you gasp, already feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to form. You really want to make this last, but it’s all been building up within you for far too long now.

“Love, love, love you, my sweet girl.”

“I-I- fuck-“ embarrassment pangs inside you, already too ruined to properly respond to him. Even though you hate it, you know Cillian adores it. While pounding into you, he feels your channel become slicker around him, the subtle sound of your wetness filling the room combined with some mewls and heavy breaths.

“C-Cill, gettin’ close-“ you warn, opening your eyes as best you can to see Cillian when you come. The hand that was gripping your jaw slides down your back, creeping over towards the front of your body where Cillian starts to rub quick circles onto your clit. His other hand digging into your hip.

“Come, baby. Please, missed seeing that pretty little face of yours come undone for me.” Cillian encourages with a growl, the mind-melting combination of pleasure had you tipping over the edge merely moments after.

Your orgasm hits you hard, the hardest you’ve come in months. You bite into your bottom lip roughly to try silence yourself. Your knees wobble, nearly giving out beneath you, but Cillian’s strong grasp on your hip keeps you up on your feet. While wincing from sensitivity, you push away the hand that was rubbing your clit, Cillian obliges.

“That’s it,” he groans, his own thrusts becoming sporadic and sloppy, “gonna come inside, baby.”

You nod and whine, the sensitivity and pleasure had your entire body vibrating.

“Please, please come inside. I need it.” You beg almost pathetically, wanting nothing more than to feel Cillian’s warm spend spilling out from inside you. He’s panting, cursing, sweating slightly, desperate to give you as much of his come as he can.

He bites down on your shoulder while keeping his hips flush against yours, his cock almost painfully deep inside you, you feel his cock twitch. His hot seed painting your silk walls, just like he’d been fantasizing about for all this time.

Once it starts to become too much, he slowly pulls himself out, only to lean his body forward while spreading your cheeks apart, attentively watching as some of his come trickles out of your pussy. He brings his middle finger up and gently shoves his come back in, earning a small whimper from you.

He leans back up and smacks your ass, making you gasp and giggle before letting the fabric of your dress fall back down to cover your legs.

Cillian turns you around and kisses you, sweetly and passionately.

“Thank you for the gift, my love.”

“This was just the first part, baby. The real gift comes when we get home.” You tease with a wink. You take the next few moments to clean yourself up and fix your appearance before heading back out to the event.

You spend the rest of that evening with Cillian’s come seeping out of you, a dirty little secret that only the two of you share.

—

this fic doesn’t really do it justice but I loooove in fics involving mirrors where the top or whoever’s in charge forces the other to look at themselves getting ruined :,( eat it up every time

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #hope y’all like this #:)

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goldenstring6123 · 7 months ago

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Zayne & Rafayel: Married to...

Warning: Angst no comfort. Major character death. implied suicide. Drama. Self insert. AFAB!reader.

Author's note: I was supposed to upload another thing but my tumblr is having problems so i hope y'all could settle for this in the meantime...

Zayne:

It was a bittersweet sensation. Seeing you at the front of the stage, wearing the gown you always dreamed of wearing. It was the most beautiful gown he had ever seen, yet the soft, warm glow of the chandelier made you prettier than the dress.

He was reluctant to attend your wedding; after all, he, too, proposed to you back when you were together. He got on his knee as well and offered you the ring you kept eyeing when you went on that particular date. He placed it on your finger, and from that point on, he thought that you were his future.

His foolish thinking blinded him to other possibilities. He didn't know where it went wrong, but all he knew was that he lost you and that your kindness to end it on nice terms with him was a double-edged sword.

Perhaps a part of him wished you never got along once you canceled the engagement. Maybe it would've been easier for him to move on. Maybe...

He could've used your anger as an excuse to not see you ever again.

But the heavens wished otherwise.

Much to his dismay, he never truly had an excuse to turn down your wedding invitation. You wished the best for each other and bid farewell on that chilly morning; he dropped you off at your house, wanting to embrace you and wipe away your tears that never stopped streaming.

Zayne, despite being the collected and intuitive man that he is, waited for you to at least call him back. You never did. Only the universe knows how many times he wanted to call you and how many times he wrote you a message only to delete it. But after a few months, he never once thought that the first time you ever contacted him again was to send him a wedding invitation.

The world was too cruel.

He gifted you both some old champagne, one that was recommended to him by Yvonne; it was the very same champagne he would open for you had you managed to celebrate your first wedding anniversary with him.

The rest of the reception was bleak. He couldn't recall things quite clearly despite not touching a single glass of alcohol. Those few hours, he was left in a daze, teetering between joy and grief, with him congratulating you face to face being his respite. He was happy that you were happy in the embrace of your new husband, and although another chapter awaits your life, his had come to a standstill.

The passage of time felt faster than it did, yet when you, your husband, and your daughter visited him for your child's check-up, only then was he reminded of where he was. It had been years since you ended your relationship with Zayne, but he clung to the memory of you every day.

Nothing changed for him. You were happily married with a child, and he was still working in the hospital as the chief surgeon, the only difference being he's now focusing more on research. It was unfortunate that his feelings didn't change, too.

Maybe in the next life, he'll get to stand next to you in front of the altar.

Rafayel:

Before him stood a painting.

A painting of you on the beach holding hands with your current husband. Under the moonlight, the painting seemed dull, devoid of the color that he ever so loved putting. It was an ugly painting, barely able to capture the smile you made on that day. Your husband's face was blurred in the painting, seemingly almost finished. The brush strokes were gentle, blending into one another, yet as the layers of paint built up, the strokes were sharper, rigid, almost seemingly cold, and coated with anger.

And it was precisely because of that that he scrapped it. And as he did, he pulled another canvas. It was a gift for you, a remembrance of a new beginning in your life and the end for Rafayel. He wished that even if you never got together in the end, there would still be remnants of him in your home.

He gave you a different painting. It was still at the beach, yet rather than blue, the sky was colored orange and red, and your bodies and faces turned into silhouettes, yet embracing one another. He couldn't capture your husband's face. You were beautiful in his painting, immaculate even, yet he can't ever recall the expression your husband made simply because he was imagining himself in that position.

With enough alcohol, Rafayel mustered the courage and energy to make the best piece he could; he wanted to see you light up once he gave you the painting. He wanted your smile to be the last memory rather than your tears when you broke up.

"Congratulations," he remembered saying to you.

"Thank you, Raf."

Your voice played in his head over and over again like a broken record. The alcohol swirled everything in sight, and seemingly, the only thing he could make sense of was the harsh crashing of the waves outside his home.

The night was the darkest at that hour. He reeked of alcohol.

Rafayel dropped the empty whiskey bottle onto his floor, hearing it shatter loudly. He picked up the biggest shard and dug it onto the canvas before him. Once, twice, thrice; he slashed the image of your husband, yet your figure was never harmed. He wasn't angry, no. He was grieving.

He flung the canvas away, disregarding whatever it crashed into, and the moment he did, another canvas stood against the wall.

He stared at it for a minute and then looked at the sea once more.

He felt happy, like a sense of pressure lifted off of his heart. With slow steps and feet against the cold parquet floor, he walked to the outside of his home, through the neglected garden, and to the sandy shoreline.

Every splash and whisper of the waves soothed his mind. The blank sky became a canvas for his thoughts. I love you's, I'm sorry's, and thank you's mingling with one another, incoherent. The image of your smile warmed up his body against the growing tide that crept to his waist. A phantom of an embrace, numbing the sharp, cold breeze against his damp back.

He waited for you for more than 800 years.

He's grown tired. He still wanted to wait, but he deserves some rest.

Emptiness washed over Rafayel as he continued to walk farther from the sandy terrain.

Nobody heard his woes, not a single soul; the only thing he left behind was that big canvas that captured his unfulfilled wishes.

The image of you kissing him under the moonlight.

His smile and yours are as vivid as they can be.

He'll wait for you again in the next life, but until then—

he'll rest with the sea.

Author footnotes: No footnotes but poor Rafayel.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

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arcadia-of-pluto · 6 months ago

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Twist of Fate; Chapter Two

Pairings; All LADS Men x Reader (will be putting "LADS OT4 x reader" in the future)

Word Count; 2,127 (I swear they will get longer)

Themes; Isekai, eventual smut

Rated; 18+ for swearing and some mature themes

Notes; None besides the smut is not near, I regret to inform you all. I have twenty chapters and no smut, however I do have plans for it!

Prev || Next

Masterlist

You woke up bright and early the next day, ready to be discharged from the hospital first thing in the morning. You vaguely knew how the next two months were going to play out; while you did play the game until chapter eight and the next update wasn't for another month, you don't remember anything exactly. Only bits and pieces. You don't know the exact dialogue but you're sure it'll be fine. You've already changed the story enough just by getting a wound on your right eye but hey, at least, you'll look hot with a scar.

Yvonne, who is a receptionist and a nurse, helps you pull out your IV and all of the wires that keep track of your heart. Then, she steps out of the room to allow you to change out of your hospital gown. You put on your casual clothes- a blue turtleneck with a white denim jacket, the turtleneck tucked into your high-waisted dark wash blue jeans, and you put on some combat boots to finish up the look. It was a basic outfit from the game, but it was a cute one nonetheless. You head into the bathroom that was in your room so you can finally catch a glimpse of how you look and to your surprise, you look exactly like yourself. The same hair, the same face, the same blemishes, and the same eyes…save for your right eye being slightly lighter than your original eye colour. Just a drawback of having a scar. Apparently there was no damage to your eye but you'll have to get that checked out with an optometrist. Maybe you'll get some cute glasses, though that would be hard to fight with.

You make sure to grab your phone and put Caleb's necklace in your pocket for safekeeping before you finally leave your hospital room. You head down the elevator and straight to the front desk, where Yvonne was waiting. “Alright, just sign here and you'll be free to go, Y/n.”

You take the pen with your left hand, ready to sign out. “Did the accident make you left-handed?” You turn your head to see Zayne. “Maybe it made me ambidextrous, you never know.” You shoot back, quickly signing out before turning toward him. “Did you need something, doctor Zayne?”

A sigh leaves his lips before he jerks his head toward his office. “A word, please.” Then he turns and walks to his office, not even waiting for you to follow. You groan, grumbling under your breath as you follow behind him. “You tall people have no empathy for anyone shorter than you!”

He grabs something out of the desk drawer and holds it out to you. “Here. This may have some answers you're looking for.”

It's a box with a fingerprint scanner on it.

You recognize this from the game, but you play it off like you're confused. “Was this from grandma?” You ask, using your thumb to unlock it and you spot a letter. “Why didn't she give me this sooner...” You sigh and emotions that didn't quite feel like your own swell up in your chest.

“Wait, does something feel off to you?” You look around, knowing what's going to happen next. Your Hunter's watch goes off as if to say the metaflux readings are rising. A protofield was appearing right here in the office.

“I would listen to the doctor's orders, but it seems like we're going to have to take care of this.” You were nervous but you steel your nerves, hands gripping your twin pistols almost too tightly. “Are you sure you can handle this?” Zayne asks and all you can do is nod before you both enter the swirling, blue vortex.

The portal leads to a beautiful, almost church-like arena. Bright white cobblestone columns with a statue in the back of the room. You take a deep breath before taking a step forward. “This one feels like it's going to be stronger than usual.” You try to sound as calm as possible but the large creature in front of you makes it difficult. You're absolutely right to be terrified, you've never encountered a huge monster before and rightfully assumed you never would. You've never had to use guns and fight, you've definitely never had to fight for your life in fact but you guess there's a first for everything.

You close your eyes as the monster's thundering footsteps draw near, focusing on resonating with Zayne to speed up the process of defeating this thing. Your eyes opening suddenly as you fire off magazines into the large wanderer. Zayne darts around, using his ice evol on the creature as well until you break it's shield. Your aim, while clumsy, doesn't miss the target not once. Especially since the wanderer can't move quickly, it can only swing at whoever is near and throw boulders.

Though you do find it much more difficult to fight without being able to see a health bar.

Eventually the creature goes down and the protofield dissipates, leaving you both in his office as if nothing happened. Though Zayne's right arm is frosted over. Backlash from overusing his evol?

“Zayne, do you need me to-”

“No, I,” He closes his eyes and tries to breathe slowly, stuttered sharp breaths leave his lips before the frost finally goes away. “Here.” He walks over to hand you the box once more and once you grab onto it, he flexes his fingers and moves his wrist around. “Don't forget about your next appointment.”

“Mmh, you'll just remind me the day before, Doctor Zayne.” You hold your hands behind your back as you smile at him. “But I'll get out of your hair for now. Take care of yourself.” You tell him before leaving his office and you notice Xavier dozing off in one of the waiting room chairs.

“Xavier?” You tap his shoulder but he shows no sign of waking up. “Xavi?” You shake his shoulder with a bit more force and he slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them with one arm while his other grabs your wrist. “How long have you been here?”

“Only…five minutes?” Xavier yawns, rising up to his feet. “It took you five minutes to fall asleep?” You ask as he gently tugs you outside of the hospital. “It took you five minutes to defeat a wanderer?” He shoots right back and you tilt your head back to groan. “It was awful. I didn't miss any shots but at least I could use my evol.”

“You resonated…with who?” Xavier looks confused, his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “My ah…friend came by to visit yesterday and helped me relearn how to resonate and I fought the wanderer with my doctor.” You decide to be as vague as possible, unsure what the repercussions would be if they all met just yet.

“You're close enough with your doctor to fight off a wanderer together?”

“Well, he's been by my side for a few years now.” You clear your throat, switching to grab Xavier’s wrist as you tug him forward. “Where'd you put my friend?” You ask, suddenly reminded that you asked for yesterday. “Oh right.” Xavier pulls the plushie out from under his white denim jacket, holding the orange fox with a blue winter coat out toward you. “I got him in one try.”

“Don't lie to me.” You tease, taking the plushie and holding it close to your chest. “It probably took you more than that.” “Well..” Xavier rubs the back of his neck and you walk together, “I tried about ten times before a kid decided to help me out..he got it in one try.” “Ah, so you were trying to take credit from a child!” You laugh before smiling as you look down at your feet. “Still…thank you for listening.”

“Any time.” He smiles right back at you. “We could stop by Meow's Café on the way back to the apartments, I hear we can get three tickets a week to pull for badges if we play three games of kitty cards.” Somehow the game mechanics transferred over to real life surprisingly well.

“Sure, I'll definitely beat you!”

Turns out, you both were bad at the game.

You won once and then both other games ended in a draw. A server walks over to place a chocolate on your table after your three games and you pick it up before you try to bite into it. “Wait.” Xavier puts a hand over your mouth. “That's…not candy.” He struggles to hide his laughter and you bat his hand away from your mouth. “What do you mean?” You pout, turning the chocolate upside-down to see the numbers 450 written on it.

“Did you forget that too? You can turn in your chocolate for clothes here. You also get chocolate from doing the claw machine. Here, I'll give you mine.” He pulls a metal chocolate from his pocket and taps it against yours to transfer his amount to yours. The underside of your chocolate changes to the number 3000. “Ohh that makes sense.” You murmur to yourself. You should've realized since in game, you can transfer chocolates for clothing items, accessories, new chat boxes, and other stuff. “Hmm, let's go use our tokens!”

You grab his wrist and tug Xavier over to the vintage looking badge machines. “So we put the token in here, turn the knob, and…” Out comes a plastic ball with a pin inside. “They're pins, not badges?” You ask, a tad bit confused but Xavier shrugs, “Don't ask me.” You both put the last two tokens in and check out which pins you got.

While Xavier is posting one of the pins on his Moments account, you decide to change your profile picture there. Especially since you've got a scar and everything now. You find some good lighting and pick up one of the café cats before taking a picture and saving it. You set the orange cat back down, scratching it's back before holding your hand out to Xavier. “C'mon, it's getting late. Let's head back to the apartments.”

“So which room is mine again?” You ask as you lean against the wall of the elevator. “It's a floor below mine.” Xavier says as the doors open to the second floor. “I'll show you.”

Once at the door, you use the fingerprint scanner and step inside, taking your shoes off before going any further. “Do you want to come inside and do some resonance training?” You place a hand on your hip as you look at Xavier. “I…guess I could but only for a little while.” Xavier shuts the door behind him, taking his shoes off as well and you both head for the couch. You sit with your leg tucked under your thigh so you can face Xavier, hands clasped between his and you close your eyes.

You've resonated twice already so it shouldn't be too difficult.

You know the resonance is done when you see tiny lights behind your eyelids but before you can open your eyes, you get yet another vision. Similar to what happened with Rafayel.

A sharp gasp slips from your lips and you rest your forehead on Xavier's shoulder as a few images flash through your head.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Xavier gently taps your shoulder a few times as you shake your head to clear your vision. “Did you see it too?” You ask the same question you asked Rafayel and Xavier almost seems even more reluctant to answer.

“I mean I saw us in class together. I'm almost positive I've never seen you in school before.” You murmur before adding, “But the sky I saw was very pretty.”

“The sky?” Xavier seems almost a bit hopeful with his question.

“It was a huge meteor shower…and I recall seeing the tassel. You know? The one on your sword.” Xavier abruptly stands up, turning his head away from you. “It must've been a daydream. I didn't see anything.” He quickly says, blinking a few times before clearing his throat, “Good job resonating. You should be ready for combat sooner than you thought.” He shoots you a smile, “I'll let you know when training starts.”

“Oh…okay. See you later, Xavier!”

The smile you had drops from your lips the moment he leaves and you click your tongue. “Tsk…maybe I was too pushy? Maybe this is why she never talked to them about their past lives..”

You run a hand through your hair as you rise to your feet, you might as well make something to eat before you head off to bed. Rafayel mentioned that art expo would be soon so it should be after your training with Xavier..

---------------------------------------------------

I think this chapter was so short because I wanted to rush the story a bit- which I am sorry because I do rush a tad just to get where I want to! Anyways, next chapter should hopefully be longer and I'll aim to make my chapters longer in the future. I just get so scared off when I see six pages for one chapter on Google docs because I'm never really sure how long a chapter should be.

Hope you enjoyed this short chapter and I'll post the third one while I figure out how to link the "prev" and "next" buttons!

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 1 year ago

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Under the Weather | Cillian Murphy x Reader

Summary | It's your one-year anniversary with Cillian and he's just finished filming The Party but as the night goes on, you begin to feel feverish and sick. Cillian comes home and takes care of you.

Warnings | fluff lol; age-gap.

Pale Blue Eyes- The Velvet Underground 🎶

word count: 1421

Don't interact if you're a Yvonne hater. This is a completely fictional piece and does not reflect Cillian or his family in reality. Read with the assumption that Cillian is not married and does not have children.

........................................

She started to feel sick around noon, the inklings of fatigue and fever creeping up into her head. She went to dinner with Cillian as she said she would for their one-year anniversary but her pearl earrings felt colder than usual against her feverish skin and she shivered when she had pulled on her dark green dress with the boat neck that exposed her collarbones to the chilly air. Curling her hair was too much, and the heat had left her exhausted and sweaty, even though she was cold. She tightened her green buckled flats and sat up in her chair at the vanity, placing a warm hand against her hot forehead and sighed. She wasn’t sure if she was actually sick or just anxious from the weeks of filming that Cillian had been preoccupied with for The Party. But he was done now and focused on his private life, the life that included her now.

He was 41 and she was 28, and already the media had a lot to say about their relationship. She was young but not that much so, she’d gone from crappy sitcoms and low-budget movies to blockbuster films and award shows. She was just as relevant as Cillian, though she may be a decade younger. She loved Cillian and the way that he helped her with her rehearsals and her anxieties. She confided in him and spilled her guts and he listened, his eyes gentle and validating. He was quiet and reserved when she had first met him on set for Peaky Blinders as one of Micheal Gray’s love-interests. She was almost never in the same scene as him so they never had a moment to speak until an interview that she was invited to attend with the main cast. She was seated next to him on the raised platform in front of the cameras when the clip keeping the back of her dress together broke and nearly unraveled in front of everyone. Without hesitation, CIllian had reached over and pulled the two ends of fabric together, keeping her dress from falling down her chest. He kept his hand against her back for the remainder of the interview, and still added to the discussion and smiled when prompted to. When the cameras stopped, he helped her get up from her seat, still holding her dress together and helped her off. He only left once a crew member had successfully pinned her dress, giving her a kind smile and a nod.

And now here they were.

She checked Cillian’s watch on the bedside table and hurried to finish getting ready before he arrived at 7. He’d made reservations at a small restaurant in Dublin where he knew the owners and their children. Smoothing down her short emerald green dress, she hurried down the stairs to the first floor of the walkup she shared with Cillian in Dublin and waited anxiously by the door for the familiar sound of footsteps on the granite steps. She saw his silhouette through the textured glass on the front door and threw it open before he could knock. He was startled but smiled when he saw who was waiting for him.

“My God, you look lovely darling!” He smiled and closed the door behind him, blocking out the summer breeze. He put each hand on her waist and turned her around slowly to see what she was wearing. He’d finished an interview for The Party and changed into his suit in the dressing room before driving back, so he looked slightly rumpled but unmistakingly beautiful.

“How was the interview?” She asked, her hands clasped around his neck.

“Eh, I’m happy it's all over with ya’ know?” The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

He kissed her head but when he pulled away, he frowned down at her.

“You feel warm.” He put the back of his hand against her cheek and moved it to her forehead, clucking his tongue. “Do you feel alright, love?”

“I thought I might be getting sick but it's not bad, I can still go.” She waved him off.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. I think you have a fever.” He took her hand and led her to the kitchen and picked her up, setting her down gently on the countertop.

“You mustn’t make such a fuss, Cillian.” She sighed defeatedly, her hands clasped either side of the cold marble countertop.

“Hush, love.” He rummaged through the medicinal cabinet in the kitchen and retrieved the mercury thermometer that they had bought at a drugstore as a house-warming gift for themselves. “Open your mouth for me,” she complied, touching her tongue to the roof of her mouth, “good girl.” He praised her.

“This is ridiculous. I feel fine, Cillian!” She mumbled around the thermometer. He rested his arms on either side of her body, his legs planted firmly between her knees. He said nothing but glanced down at his watch every few seconds to check the time. When it was done he pulled the thermometer from her mouth and read it to her.

“100.3. You’re sick, love.” He laughed softly and placed the thermometer on a folded cloth by the sink to wash later. “Come on.” He spread his arms and she reluctantly hugged him around his shoulders so that he could pick her up. He sighed softly as he arranged her in his arms and climbed the short flight of steps to the second floor.

“What about the dinner reservations?” She whined into his shoulder, her nose crushed against the soft fabric of his suit.

“It'll be fine, darling. Let me worry about that.” He passed through the doorway into their bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She squirmed in protest when he went left, going down the stairs quickly. She could hear him moving around the kitchen for a while before coming back up the stairs, a glass of water and Tylenol in his hands. She sat up against the pillows at the headboard and curled her knees into her chest. He sat on the edge of the bed and gave her two of the distinct white chalky pills.

“Take these.” He ordered softly and waited.

“Yes, sir.” She grumbled and swallowed the pills, downing them with water. He took the empty glass from her hand and placed it on the nightstand.

“Let me get you out of these” He unbuckled her shoes and tossed them aside, his hands patting each ankle as he did so.

“I’m sorry, Cillian.” She whispered, her arms held up in the air in a pitiful request for affection. He leaned over and hugged her.

“For what, darling?” He furrowed his brow and stroked her hair.

“For being sick on our anniversary.” She sniffed and fought back childish tears. He pulled away and rubbed his thumb over her feverish cheek.

“That’s nothing to be sorry for, love. We still get to spend the evening together, right?” He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“Ok.” She nodded and allowed him to remove her earrings, sliding the backings off into his hand and returning them to her jewelry box. She turned to the side as his hands found the top of her zipper. As he pulled, her skin tingled with goosebumps all the way down to her tailbone. His hands slid the dress off her shoulders and pulled it over her head. She was naked besides her underwear and sensitive to the cold. Cillian quickly took one of his long sleeve shirts and pulled it down over her head. She slid her arms through the sleeves and curled into his side as he leaned over, resting the dress carefully on the arm of a chair. When he straightened back up, he put one arm around her shoulders and the other one on his stomach. She nestled beneath the sheets and wool blankets beside him and breathed him in.

As she started to fall asleep, he cradled her in his arms, holding onto her with security and love. He waited patiently as she slept before changing out of his suit. He turned off the lights and applied a cold washcloth to her head as she slept soundly beside him. He laughed softly when her nose was congested and she started breathing through her mouth, drooling slightly on her pillow. He combed his fingers through her hair and kissed the crown of her head into the night before he fell asleep himself, his arms tightly around her.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #the party #cillian x y/n #fluff #cillian fanfic #cillian fluff #fanfiction #under the weather

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023 | Day Thirteen — Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg

Pairing -> dark!cillian murphy x step-daughter!reader

Warnings -> DARK!!!, smut (minors dni), little girl/good girl nickname, somnophilia, daddy kink, non-con, stepcest, reader is implied to be underage (near college), don't read if you're not comfortable, infidelity, cheating/implied cheating, wet dream, fingering, masturbating

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

A/N: Sorry I didn't get this out on time, I was too tired to write it the other day.

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun. + quotation credit - The Sleeping Beauty (Briar Rose) by The Brothers Grimm

“. . . ‘Then he went on still further,’” Cillian read, his thumb loosely brushing the page of the book, “‘and all was so quiet that a breath could be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into the little room where Briar Rose was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away; and he stooped down and gave her a kiss’ . . . Are you listening?”

You were not. You had fallen asleep a few minutes back, your chest slowly rising and falling by the rhythm of your breathing, little snores escaping until the noises finally died down and there was no sound but the closing of a book and the shuffling of the bedsheets.

Cillian didn’t know why you always insisted on bedtime stories. You were almost an adult, about to go to college and mature in every way. You liked to debate with your friends, to discuss philosophy and life, and on occasion, you even divulged to him your fantasies, sexual ones — things you never talked about with your mother. He supposed it was something about the comfort, the nostalgia of childhood, to have someone you trusted tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight.

Cillian brushed your hair out of your face and started to caress your cheek affectionately. He loved you, that was the one thing in this world he was sure about. His broken marriage with his wife, your mother, had long past the stages of blissful happiness, and the only thing keeping him in this unfaithful marriage was you, his stepdaughter, his very own sleeping beauty.

He couldn’t imagine a future in which you were absent. These past ten years, where he had watched you grow up, learn and fail, and guide you to be the person you were now, felt the most important of his life. If you were gone, what was he supposed to do? Dwindle away his life with work? Pursue a fruitless romance with another woman? No. His life’s purpose was here, taking care of you, protecting you like no other man could do.

You needed him, and as it turned out, he needed you.

You turned around in bed, instinctively moving your body near Cillian. He froze for a moment, but didn’t push you away, and instead pulled you closer, close enough so that your breasts (absolutely beautiful, he thought, she’s changed so much) were pressing up against his chest with one of your legs draped over his body.

It was at that moment that he decided he was going to stay for a while longer, make sure that you were comfortable and at ease before returning to his own room. It was his job as your fatherly figure, no?

About thirty minutes had passed by in this position. Cillian was rubbing your back soothingly, leaving feathery kisses all over your face, when you suddenly let out a sound, a strange sound, one that he had never heard come out of your mouth before — a moan.

You were rubbing up against him. He could feel a dampness form on his pants. Is she having a wet dream? he thought, his face heating up.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just ignore it, not with the way he was gaining an erection.

Cillian felt sick on the inside. Dreams like that were normal, he wasn’t supposed to be getting hard at his daughter having one. But he couldn’t just leave either. What if you needed help? What if you woke up, confused about what was happening to you? He had to be there to explain it all.

What am I thinking? She’s almost eighteen, she knows what it is.

But still, it was better to have an adult there. Just for comfort.

He tried to stay as still as possible, but the little moans and whimpers got too much for him. You just looked so innocent, despite the situation. Your lips were slightly parted, your eyebrows creased, like an angel receiving pleasure for the first time.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. His erection was painful at this point, trying to escape from his pants but left to the confines of his morality. He had to keep it in. Yes. He couldn’t hurt his daughter because of his desires.

But as you kept rubbing—humping at this point—he reasoned that he could help you with yours.

He lowered his hand to your stomach, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to go through with it. He slipped his fingers inside your pants, making sure to keep them outside your underwear.

You reacted when he pressed his thumb to your clit—a little shudder, one that encouraged him to keep going. How could it be wrong if you liked it? How could it be wrong if you needed it?

“Little girl,” he whispered. “Does that feel good? You like it when Daddy touches you like this, don’t you?”

Almost as if you could hear him, your pushed your body against his hand, craving more of his touch like a desperate little thing. The spaghetti strap of your top was slowly beginning to slip off, but Cillian didn’t bother pulling it back up. He was more focused on circling your clit, and palming his cock with his other hand.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good, little girl.”

This night had turned out better than he expected. Maybe this didn't have to be the last one.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfiction #pinguwrites #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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