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#love and deepspace rafayel
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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆
╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))
wc : 3.2k
taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!
an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...
You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.
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It was quiet.
Too quiet.
There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...
These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.
Rafayel's stare was intense.
Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!
...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.
"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.
You were torn, somewhat.
You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.
...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.
Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.
You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—
"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."
You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.
However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.
Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.
Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—
But you felt like it was.
It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.
You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...
And his eyes.
God, his eyes.
Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.
It was visceral.
It sent a tingle down your spine.
You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—
Was a siren's allure truly so confining?
You had nowhere to run.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...
Intentional.
"Little muse, you're blushing."
If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.
Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.
"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.
"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."
And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.
Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.
You couldn't take any more of this.
You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—
A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.
"Hey. You tired?"
Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.
It wasn't helping.
"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.
And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.
A smirk spread over his features.
You were in for it.
"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."
"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"
He grinned.
"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."
You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.
"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."
You wished you could slap that smile off his face.
Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."
You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.
And he noticed.
"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."
The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.
"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.
You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.
"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."
For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—
Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.
"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"
He was infuriating.
A menace.
This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.
You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.
"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."
Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.
It was foul play.
Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.
It was as if you were... a show.
"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.
His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.
"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."
You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.
You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.
"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.
You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—
"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"
Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.
Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.
"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"
Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."
The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"
"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.
"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.
But you did as he said, anyway.
The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.
"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."
It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.
And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.
Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.
"R-Rafayel..."
Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.
"Keep going, princess, I'm here."
Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—
"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"
In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."
His words proved enough.
"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.
"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."
His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."
You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.
He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.
"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"
You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.
"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.
But he smirked.
A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.
"R- Rafayel...?"
"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."
Don't mind me.
He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.
"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."
The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.
Your eyes went wide.
"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.
And he didn't dare stop there.
He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.
"Look at me, princess," he whispered.
And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.
Your breath hitched.
Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.
"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"
He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.
It had you moaning almost immediately.
"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.
You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.
It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.
Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.
"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"
"Yeah? Need what, hm?"
Oh, he was having fun.
"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"
The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.
All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.
You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.
Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.
Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."
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⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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littlestarconch · 1 day
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Sense of Longing
Pairing : Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel x Reader
→ Hurt/Comfort ; Headcanon form ; Separate ; Established Relationship
🪄 :: Cruel 😭 , Now I feel guilty for even thinking about leaving.
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Xavier
Literally turning the world upside down trying to find you.
Sleeping away his desires.
Sometimes he would even hallucinate that you're in front of him.
There are days where he dreamt about you, but then he woke up— making him felt even more lonelier than before.
Fighting wanderers even more aggressively due to his mind is only filled with you, who did not respond to his texts, nor read them!
It left him devastated, though he may not show them physically.
But his actions are getting more and more reckless each day that passes without you.
There are also times where he got injured because of this recklessness.
And you know what he did? He left it as it is, just letting it heal by 'itself'.
Your return— feels unreal for him
It feels like it's a dream, he was sleeping like usual, but hearing your voice woke him up.
It took him a good minute to realize he's not dreaming.
He would talk to you like how he usually is in his dreams, that is until he felt your warmth on his skin.
He stared at you, his hand unconsciously reached out to your arms.
When he' sure enough that it's actually you— be prepared because he will pull you into his arms.
Heavens! He will refuse to let go even! You have to push him away if you want to breathe.
But I believe y'all won't push him away.
Ever since your return, your first week is filled with Xavier just clinging onto you everywhere you go.
Not quite literally, but you get me.
Sleeping, with you in his arms, is a must.
If not, he will not be able to go to sleep.
Also please comfort him, he had been sleep deprived ever since the day you left without saying anything </3
He longed to be comforted in your arms, feeling your fingers running through his hairlocks.
He longed for listening to your heartbeat, listening to your voice.
He missed them, too much that it hurts.
He didn't realize how much he missed you until you appeared again in front of him.
Zayne
Working.
Doing his thing like usual, though, he will unconsciously look over his phone to see the long waited notification from a certain someone.
When he did not see anything, he, felt quite, weird at first.
Is it worry? Is it sadness? What is it??
At first he will simply shook the feeling away.
But he will no longer able to ignore them after a week have passed.
A week without any news from you left him confused and worried.
He will also not show this feeling, he is literally so stoic no one would be able to figure out he's actually missing you.
Even he, himself, didn't realize he missed you.
He buried himself in his work, staying up late. Even went as far as pulling an all nighter.
There are days where he accidentally fell asleep in his office due to the lack of sleep he gets.
He will still, unconsciously look over his phone to see if there's anything news coming from you despite him burying himself in work.
Other doctors and nurses is definitely worried about him, he had not left the hospital for a long time.
They literally had to send him home to make him go take a proper rest.
Since your disappearance, he would try do things that you usually do.
But everytime he did so, his mind wander off to the memory of being together with you.
Your smile, your voice, your touch.
He missed them.
A lot.
And he is well aware of how much he needed to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your touch once more.
Your return— made him want to immediately pull you into his arms and never let you go.
Upon seeing you in front of him, he wanted to just engulf you into his hold, and just stay like that till he let go and probably will be more than 30 minutes.
But he kept the feeling down by checking if you have any injuries while you were gone.
If you confirm there are no injuries, he will let out his desperation.
Of how much he missed you, slowly approaching you.
His hand on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand brushed against the lines of your cheek.
Do the same to him, holding his face with both of your hands.
You will see how he just melt into your hold, kissing your palm as he pulled you even closer to him.
Soon he finally engulfed you into his arms, burying his face to the crook of your neck.
Whispering how much he missed you.
Make sure you spare some time for him now, because he will not let you go.
Rafayel
Good God.
He is very worried. Like literally. But on the first week, he would be quite grumpy of how you're not even reading his messages.
But after 2 weeks of no news from his favorite bodyguard turned his angry thoughts to worry.
He had stopped painting after a week have passed without any texts coming from your side.
His mind could not think of any inspiration, all he could think about is just,
Where are you? Are you hurt?
So many thoughts coming through his mind, but he tried to push them off by telling himself that you can handle yourself without any help from him.
But even so, that did not calm his mind at all.
There are days where he went to the beach at late night.
Watching the seas as his mind wanders off thinking about you.
The studio felt so cramped despite the large size, is it because of the messiness in it?
He refuses to clean up the mess, since he thought that no one will come to visit anyway.
You are literally just, disappeared without a trace, and not even saying a single word to him.
It left him devastated.
He is not aware how much he missed you, he thought that he can handle by being himself like how he used to be.
But you proofed him wrong.
Your return— made him realize how much he missed you.
He couldn't even get angry at you because of how much he longed to see you.
Hearing your voice alone washes the worry away and replaced them with relief.
If you ever ask about him being angry, he will immediately say he's not.
He couldn't.
Not when this feeling of longing overtakes him.
He wants to hold you, and will ask if he can hold you.
Once he gets a yes, he will pull you into his arms.
And let out a shaky breath, feeling you in his arms felt surreal for him.
Hearing your voice, feeling your warmth engulfed his figure.
He realized how much he needed this.
The world no longer colored in grey, the colors have returned, along with his inspiration.
Everything has gone back to it's place, because his muse have returned into his arms.
©littlestarconch
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🪄 :: This is messed up bro 😔
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seaofgoldensand · 1 day
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thinking of rafayel who does the most he can to win MC, all his efforts, all his time (missed art exhibitions, unfinished paints) but all of that gradually dwindles as time passes. he's watching MC fall for someone else in real time (bonus points if MC just never felt the same way at all). then there's some nights where he's staring out in the ocean and when he thinks about MC a little too damn much, the symbol of their bond burns against his chest and with fire coming from his fingers through his evol, he's scratching at the symbol, leaving angry red marks on his chest where the symbol resides, taunting him. so he scratches harder, lemurian blood flowing through the wound. he does so as if getting rid of it would free him. but it's proven futile when his blood heals the wound and he's back at square one, but a little more empty each time it happens.
the thing is, he doesn't yell nor scream. he doesn't curse the ocean—if anything, he's spent, jaded—his eyes empty. then he turns his back to the ocean, like he did many times for her. returns to his studio. probably throws paint around out of sheer anger and passes it as a new piece that he'll paint throughout his rage and somehow turn it into something peaceful. a calm scenery. no one would know that under the calm vibes of the painting was rage like a storm at sea, and he's smiling that charming smile, eyes bright to others but voided to him, engaging in conversations with others at art exhibitions, or interviews scheduled the following day. like he didn't just try to scratch his damn heart out by his flames the nights before.
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fortunekookie07 · 3 days
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Lololol the things they will say when you poke at them. Naughty hands indeed. 😁😁😁
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MC: Are you alright?
Rafayel: Short answer or long answer?
MC: Short?
Rafayel: No.
MC: Long?
Rafayel: Nooooooo.
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sleepybeaaans · 1 day
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the designs of these plushies are just… immaculate. they even got the essences of the boys showing through the plushies. 🥺
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jhye-lee · 2 days
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100 days event with Rafayel♡
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mooncrestedwaters · 2 days
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Rafayel:
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its-de · 2 days
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New redeem code 🥳🙌🏻
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zaynesaurora · 6 hours
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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to you having medical anxiety—
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a/n: no in depth medical terms/procedures used, anxiety talk obvs. only the three main boys this time, hope you enjoy ✨ nonnie <3
zayne ! uses his status within the medical field to his advantage, as soon as you make it known which doctor will be overseeing your appointment he's straight to his emails- typing out a well worded paragraph in which he all but directly threathens the poor recipiant. it's not in bad nature by any means, in an ideal world he would love to be the one resposible but making the relationship offical meant he had to follow professional protocol. a few tiny favours would slide under the radar.
he'd hit you with an "im assured everything went smoothly?" when your back by his side, an almost none existant smirk lingering on his lips when his hand reaches out to offer you a small boiled sweet. he's a firm believer in sugar following procedures after all.
other doctors in the hospital start to get nervous when your name crops up but dr zayne doesn't care. not when your needs are met every time and you come back to him safe, each appointment becoming easier with his help- unbeknownst to you.
xavier ! is also the anxiety patient, offering to come with you to as many check ups as he possibly can- even if the white walls make his heart begin to race too fast and his palms sweaty, he'd sit by you the entire time. both your legs bouncing in place agaisnt one another, conversation almost non existant and your shoulders jolting when a name is called forward to the examination rooms. he'd squeeze your thigh when it's finally your turn, grounding both you and himself before speaking.
"do you need me to come with? or wait here?", you'd nod- not fully hearing the latter half of his question in your unsettled state but he'd know. rising to his full height, hand in hand as he led you down repetative corridors.
throughout the consultation itself, xavier would continue lettling you hold his fingers- your skin sticky as your thumb idly traces his knuckles. he'd notice when the words are getting stuck in your throat, pushing his own troubles aside to answer anything he could on your behalf.
rafayel ! would plan as many activies as he can either side of your arrangement so that you can't possibly spend the day focused on one little aspect that may or may not go well, something your prone to doing- even when the appointment is in the later hours of afternoon. your booked in at 5pm? okay, so he's going to take you for breakfast, maybe a walk along the beach afterwards. probaly some form of shopping, hit the claw machine as usual- that alone kills 3 hours.
before you know it, rafayel would have gossiped with you all the way to the waiting room, keeping you focused else where everything running as smooth as possible- in an out in a matter of minutes, "see not so bad right?"
he'd pull you off to dinner straight after, ending the night on a high that puts a positive outlook on a day that terrorized you for hours before hand- doubts long forgotten.
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failedaethercore · 2 days
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Frustration
You've got feelings for someone and you have no idea how to process them, let alone deal with them.
Angsty fluff and smutty frustration turn into a satisfying conclusion.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
Rafayel x reader/MC, use of y/n, mention of Xavier and Zayne, masturbation, cussing, smut, smutty smut smut, praise kink, light master play, a little begging, fluff, angsty, unrequited feelings, doubt, cute stuff too
If you are under 18, please refrain from reading this. You have been warned, continuing to read this means you have ignored my warning.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
It had been a long succession of weeks. Too long. If it wasn’t missions, it was training. If it wasn’t those, it was mountains of paperwork. You had barely gotten any downtime lately, and you were fraying at the seams. It kept you busy, at least.
But when Captain Jenna offered you some downtime, you silently fought it. It would be only two days off, but it meant you would be alone with yourself. With your thoughts. So only to keep from being put on suspension, you took it. You figured you could do some self care, an errand or two, some tv…it won’t be that bad, right?
The first day was going fine, you had a long hot bath, soaking away your worries. You even slept in a bit, and you had plans to get food delivered as well. You were gonna pamper yourself and take good care of yourself this weekend. You swore that was the goal.
You had been avoiding this much time off from Hunting because you were avoiding a much bigger issue. One you were far from ready to admit to yourself, let alone anyone else...
This was especially because you had been feeling…frustrated lately. You kept stealing glances at your attractive friend Zayne, who was also your doctor. And your coworker Xavier was not ignored, either. But when you got anywhere near your second boss, Rafayel, you would freeze up and just shut down.
You hadn’t even been with anyone in years, and even then it had been a tame relationship that only lasted a couple months, at most.
So…you were just a little pent up.
You got out your secret stash of toys, just a couple vibrators, a dildo, some lube, the usual suspects. You had been itching for some pleasure down there, and to be honest, you had almost wanted to call someone over to help…
See but, you knew full well it would likely be taking advantage…you knew you could ask Xavier to do almost anything. But in knowing that, the guilt that tugged at your gut made you rethink it every time.
And Zayne would just go along with things to help you, not that he would complain. But he only saw you as a little sister, if anything. So you felt guilt, there, too…
And the only other viable option, well…you were avoiding that altogether. Forever. Buried. Banned. No more.
But no matter, you knew all your own buttons, you wouldn’t have a difficult time of this, even if it had been a while…this’d be a nice time to reconnect with yourself, right?
That was THREE HOURS AGO…
You were panting, flushed and frustrated, fingers aching, lips dry, sweat covering your body…and it was like you weren’t able to dip your toe into the water, let alone take that dive into the pool.
You were so frustrated, you started to cry. You were nearly sobbing, your nerves were officially wrecked, and you were ready to just get up and drink all the liquor you kept in your kitchen. At least that way you could relax.
So when your phone rang, you just dejectecly picked it up without a thought. Your voice was hoarse and came out shaky from the attempted masturbation, and the sobs that kept jumping up your throat like frogs from not getting anywhere…among other feelings that kept wrenching your thoughts away from your pleasure.
“…Hello?”
“Y/n! I’m so glad to finally hear from you…you’ve been avoiding me lately, I was getting depressed, you know. It’s not nice to avoid someone so handsome…”
Oh no…not him.
“…Rafayel…what do you want?” Your voice was shaky and hoarse, but cold.
“Wow, do you think so little of me? I just wanted to check up on you on your day off, since we haven’t had a chance to talk in forever…I don’t want a thing. Scout’s honor.” You could almost see him making the gesture of raising his hand as if he were a junior scout in your head. You tried not to smirk at how dumb it looked.
“…Wait, how did you know it was my day off??” You turned to look at your phone, as if to make sure you hadn’t turned on a video call.
“Well a little fishie told me, of course! But that’s besides the point, y/n… you sound bad, did you catch something?” Concern could be heard in his tone, and you almost wanted to scream from frustration, because your patience with him was beyond thin right now.
“I’m. Fine. Just trying to relax, Rafayel.” Anger tinged your response as you still lay, naked, sweaty and annoyed, in your stuffy room. But your voice was getting worse from all the talking, so he just heard you denying you were sick.
If he dared to suggest- “I’m coming over. You sound awful, I’ll make sure to take care of you, Miss Bodyguard.”
“No! Rafayel don’t you da-“ click…
“…Fuck. I am so screwed.” You wonder if you can relocate your entire apartment in a matter of minutes. But then you sit up and reality splashes cold water on that dream, too.
You know Xavier is busy taking over missions while you have the two days off, and apparently Zayne is out of town at some conference of some kind. You have no backup. You have no one to step in if things turn south. You quickly dial Thomas before your mind has time to catch up.
“…Hello? Y/n? Is everything alright?”
“Thomas you have to help. Stop him, he’s headed for my apartment as we speak.”
Thomas could read the situation like he was breathing. He was used to you calling and begging him to stop Rafayel from doing who-knows-what.
“Your voice sounds bad, y/n, you should probably be resting if you’re sick…plus, you know Rafayel, he’ll most likely just order in some takeaway and leave once you pass out. He’s not good at taking care of anyone.”
Yes. You knew this. But right now you were anything but tired, let alone sick. If he caught on to what you had been up to to cause your voice to go like this…fuck. You had to hurry. Your bed was covered in toys and damp from the sweat and lube. “Okay Thomas I gotta go bye!”
You gave him no chance to speak and hung up on him. You rushed to put on clothes, shoved your sweaty sheets in your laundry hamper, and struggled to put fresh ones on. You had moments, maybe. If Rafayel drove like he normally does, then you were almost out of time.
That’s when you noticed them again. The toys. You didn’t have time to clean them, so you couldn’t put them away. That’s when you heard the first knock. Fuck.
You shoved them under your bed in a rush and made sure your pajamas didn’t smell too bad…you hadn’t had a chance to get laundry done, yet…which was tomorrow’s main attraction, unfortunately.
Thankfully, they smelled of detergent still, if only faintly. So you should be good.
You start padding over to the door, as more knocks begin to sound. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Gods, Rafayel, calm down…” You open the door to find the man smirking confidently down at you, a bag in hand, and one of his classic outfits with his chest somewhat exposed greeting you.
Normally, the sight would make you snort. But your nerves were still heightened, so you only managed a slight blush instead. “Y/n, you look like you have a fever, here…let me help, okay?”
Your irritation seems to know no limits today, as you try to slam the door in his face, but with no real power behind it, he catches the door and lets himself in, chuckling a little. “I see you’re in good spirits, then.”
You glare at him as he sets the small bag on the counter in your kitchen, and then goes to your side to place his hand against your forehead.
For some reason you don’t flinch like you normally would, which tips him off that something’s up. Instead you blush a little more, looking away. “…I’m fine, Raf.” The abbreviation to his name is to infer annoyance, distance. But he takes a small step closer instead.
“You feel warm…and sweaty, you could have a virus, y/n.” He turns his gaze from you to glance around. “Where do you keep your thermometer?” You grumble at him a quiet “don’t have one.” Which you know Zayne would lose his mind over. But that’s future you’s problem, if it ever gets out.
“Hmmm…guess we’ll just have to do this, then.” He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. “Ah! Rafayel, what are you doing?!” You back up defensively.
“Just making sure. Yeah, you’re hot. Let’s get something to cool you down... ice cream? No, you don’t eat that when you’re sick… I’ll order some porridge. You like abalone, right?” “…No, not really…” he looks at you in shock, as if you had just insulted his entire species.
“Well you’re going to learn to like it. And I’ll get some tea started. I brought some, and a few other things.” He waves his hand as if to shoo you to the living room area. You glower at him in a way that would make plants die.
He ignores you, starting the electric kettle and pulling out a canister from the small bag he brought. You were curious what else was in there, to be honest...
You slumped on the sofa and fumed a little, but by the time Rafayel brought you some tea, you wandered into daydreams instead.
Mostly ones involving Xavier or Zayne. Not this annoying little fish who clung to you like bad luck.
He set the tea on the coffee table in front of you before snapping his fingers in your face. You hated when people did that. You looked up at him slowly, the lewd thoughts that had made you blush to yourself now fading, along with the color in your cheeks.
Your eyes settled into a glare and you quickly grabbed his hand and yanked him down to sit next to you. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.” With every word you pinched his arm. Hard.
He yelped at the first one, then just pouted as he rubbed the spots you had attacked. “I was calling your name for a while…I wanted to know if you had any honey.” For a moment your mind flashes to a lewd thought again, someone drizzling honey on your naked body and licking it all off.
You blushed and looked away. “Top cupboard near the fridge. …Green lid.” He sighs and gets up to bring it to you, and you felt a pang of guilt for that. He didn’t deserve so much of your ire, after all, it wasn’t his fault…
He serves you the tea carefully, after adding a spoonful of honey to the cup. The steam fills your senses, the smell is floral, like jasmine, but with citrus and a deeper, unknown scent. Then something that smells like the ocean fills you with a contentment for a moment, before you realize it’s most likely his scent you’re swooning over. Shit.
You take the cup and carefully sip the tea, staying silent. The awkward chill in the room fills you with dread. This is when you make bad choices, usually. That or when there’s…wait, is there alcohol in this?!
“Rafayel, did you put booze in this??” You look at him with incredulity before he gives you a slight grin. “It’ll help your fever. I saw you had some whiskey on the counter and figured it might be a good idea. Don’t worry, it’s not a lot.” He takes the cup from you to set it down.
You feel like a serious talk is about to happen, and you’re not ready to deal with some sort of awkward conversation with your…boss. You stand up abruptly. “I’ll be right back, just need to use the restroom.” You excuse yourself and rush to shut the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief.
The alcohol is already affecting you, you forgot to eat today, and with all the energy you burned through earlier trying to get yourself off, your body was already starting to feel loose and a little swimmy. Not good.
You had to splash some cold water on your face several times, and silently talk yourself down from a ledge you were dangerously close to jumping off of at full throttle.
He may be a nuisance and frustrating and capricious and downright annoying with how he knew he affected women…but he was a man. A man here. Now. In your moment of need.
No! No y/n! You will not give in to temptation! He would never let you live it down after he rejects you! He would make you suffer for ever even thinking such things!
More splashing from the sink could be heard from the other side of the door. Rafayel was bored, so he started poking his nose where it wasn’t supposed to be. Starting with your room. Because he’s naughty like that.
Hmmm. She has a lot of stuffed animals for such a tough girl. And she doesn’t know how to make her bed, apparently. Oh look, she has photos on her desk of her frie-
Rafayel stops short at a recent photo of you and Xavier, both of you smiling with his arm around your shoulders casually. You were both at the arcade, and he had just won you the special edition plushie that was now sitting next to it on your desk.
He sulkily turns to leave the room before he sees anything else that will sour his mood. But before he gets too far, he sees a bright blue vibrator that had carelessly rolled out from under your bed in your rush earlier.
“Oho…what’s this?” He picks it up, and it’s covered in lube, still. He smirks as it all starts to click. Your irritation, your voice…your scent. He had been wondering why you smelled so amazing today…now he knew. And he was going to tease the life out of you for being so cold to him earlier.
He settles back down on the sofa before you can catch him sneaking around, and he puts on his most casual and bored of expressions.
You emerge from the bathroom ready to send him home, when he looks up from his phone and gives you one of his heartstopping smiles. You still don’t entirely know why, but it had always managed to make you pause, if not blush.
And right now all your efforts to calm yourself down were in vain. He glanced back down at his phone and tapped something. “The food’ll be here soon, is there anything you’d like to do while we wait? I also ordered myself something, since I figure I should stay until you’re feeling a little better.” He smirked at his phone as you stared.
“Rafayel, you can go home, I’m fine.” “Nope, you clearly have a fever. You were just trying to cool down in there, were you not? And your voice is still hoarse. I’m not going anywhere.” He looked up at you and smirked more. You stomped over and tried to grab his arm to pull him off your sofa, but he was too quick for you, and simply pulled you onto his lap.
“Don’t worry about getting me sick, I’m perfectly healthy.” He brushes some wet strands of hair out of your face as you blush and glare at him. “Just leave, Raf. I’m fine, I just…uh…was out all last night singing karaoke. So I sound like this.” You prayed he bought it.
Not a chance.
He wrapped an arm around you idly as he kept doing something on his phone. You were growing impatient with him. The alcohol was making your need only grow stronger, warming your insides and making your decision making skills less than ideal right now.
You weren’t drunk, but you were definitely slightly impaired. So when you finally noticed his fingers softly rubbing circles into your hip while you sat on his lap, you suddenly shot up and put some distance between the both of you.
“Hmm? Is something wrong?” He looks up as if he hadn’t just been touching you intimately. Not even Zayne was that daring. This fish was trouble…
“I need you to go, Raf. I’ve got a lot of chores to do around here, and you’re in the way.” Your tone is cold, and you try to stand firm, despite your slight tremor from your nerves. He only grins in response.
“Let me know and I’ll do them for you while you rest. Just go in your room and lay down for a bit, I can manage.” He gives you a softer smile now, and some part of your heart of steel starts to warm.
But you shake your head to get those fuzzy thoughts out of your mind. He was annoying, remember? All that charm was an act. He was a renowned lady killer, he was just trying to put the moves on you.
“I want you to please leave.” You put your hands on your hips and you stand firm against his persuasion.
That’s when he brings in the big guns. He stands up, almost slowly, deliberate with each step as he approaches you, forcing you to look up into his eyes to try and stare him down.
He places a hand on your cheek and gives you a sad smile. “…You really hate me that much?”
It’s super effective.
Your heart bobs in a dark storm of doubt and guilt, as you try to right yourself in these dangerous waters you’ve found yourself in. You stare up at him, and suddenly a blush blooms on your cheeks.
“…I don’t hate you.” You look away from him, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact now. And, after a long, intense pause…
“…It’s okay... you can stay.”
His heart actually flutters at that. He lifts your chin to look at him again, and he places the softest kiss to your cheek. But you don’t flinch or pull away. You just let it happen.
You almost want to see what he’ll try to do, since he’s clearly up to something…
Rafayel is suddenly drawn to his phone again, a gentle ding notification alerting him to the food now outside your door. He lets his hand slip away from you and goes to retrieve it.
The tension is still there, even after he brings in the food. He’s silent as he sets the bag down on your dining table, and then he looks at you. “…You’re watching me.” His tone is of curiosity, not accusation.
You blush and quickly look away. Before you can summon your barriers around your heart once more, Rafayel slips next to you, silence and stealth being all the easier with you like this. He places a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the table.
“Come, eat it before it gets cold…” your shoulders stiffened at his touch, and you tried to sus out what was going on. You could sense something, but your mind couldn’t figure out what, precisely…
You let him guide you to the table, as he gets out some dishes to serve you some porridge. “They were all out of abalone, so I ordered oyster and scallop. But I’m guessing you’ll prefer it.” He chuckles a little as he sets a full bowl in front of you.
“Why oysters…why not just... chicken?” You look a little bewildered, but take a bite anyways. It’s good, the porridge tastes refreshingly savory and faintly sweet, with a salty oceanic taste you could never mistake. It’s honestly amazing, as you had been meaning to eat earlier…
Rafayel smiles with his boyish charm, sitting down beside you at the square table, serving himself some as well. “It smells so good, I can save the noodles for later. I’ll have some, too.”
He lets out a low, deep moan as he takes the first bite. As if it was the most delicious food he had ever eaten. “C-c’mon Raf, it’s not that good…” you blush and try to secretly adjust yourself in your chair as you’re already struggling to keep from dampening your shorts further.
But he sees all of it. And he gives you a grin. “Maybe, but I haven’t eaten all day, so this is soooo good…” he makes another moan as he takes another bite. This causes your insides to twitch with want. You’re going to kill him.
This has to be deliberate.
And it is.
Before you finish your bowl, Raf has already finished his. He notices your slowed eating, and swiftly steals away your spoon. “You’re eating so slow…it’s not that bad, here I’ll feed you.” You blush immediately. “Rafayel don’t you da-“ a spoonful of porridge is put in your mouth in response.
You slowly chew and swallow, and without a word, another porridge-laden spoon is waiting for you. “Eat up…Miss Bodyguard.” He smirks at you while you silently eat.
After the last bite, he stands to start tidying the dishes and such. You’re still trying to figure out what he’s up to, as he starts to clean. He hums at first, then pauses.
“Y’know…oysters and scallops are sometimes considered an aphrodisiac...”
Oh. Fuck.
“W-what??” You start to sweat a little, as you stare at his back. He finishes washing and turns to smirk at you. Oh shit…he knows.
You start to panic, standing carefully and slowly backing away from him. “You really should clean up your toys when you’re done playing, y/n…” it takes him no time at all to catch you, grabbing your hand as you reflexively put it up to catch any incoming attacks.
His voice is low and his eyes that were once sparkling with concern and caring, are now dark with desire and want. You struggle a little before standing straight and glaring at him. “L-let me go, Rafayel. Just because I ate that doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything with you.”
“Not because you ate it, no…” his voice is husky and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “…But you’re already giving off even stronger pheromones than usual, and you’ve yet to actually stop me…miss Hunter.” he pauses to bring your attention to the fact that his other hand is now resting on your ass. It's true, if you really wanted, you could break his arm in three places and grab your gun while he reels...
“You’re horrible, Rafayel.” He smirks. “But you love me anyways.” His confidence is infuriating.
“I don’t love you.” “But you don’t hate me, either.” “Just because I don’t hate you doesn’t mea-get your hand off my ass, Rafayel!” Your voice rises and he gently slides his hand up to your waist, lifting your pajama shirt slightly in the process.
“Y/n, I know you think I’m annoying sometimes…but I’m not just reading into things that are illusions.” He looks into your eyes, dark and sensual, but also filled with a deep longing. “I’m not the only one here who sees this. You’re just always making excuses to avoid me lately…”
You look away at that, guilt and embarrassment all over your face. “…And I know it has nothing to do with your work, at least…not in the way you say it does. You’re dancing around the issue... Do you not see me as a potential partner?” He gently takes your cheek and turns you to face him again.
His eyes are filled with sadness, even the lust is a distant memory in those beautiful orbs now. “Do you truly only see me as a nuisance?” You try to look away, you don’t want to admit it. Not out loud. But his hand holds you firm, keeping you looking at him as he silently pleads for your answer.
“…I refuse to be another notch on your bedpost, Rafayel.” You shiver from the cold in your own voice, as you look down, your face pale. You admitted it, after all this time.
He paused for a long time, before he suddenly burst into a smile and held you against him. “Whatever made you think I was that kind of man, y/n?” You immediately blush at the embrace, confusion written all over your expression.
“W-what do you mean? All those parties…and those women…the magazines…” “Lies. All of it. And those women?” He leans in close and takes both your hands in his, before whispering in a husky voice. “…they only want what they can’t have.”
Your blush deepens at his confession, and you can’t look away anymore. “Y/n…I’m going to kiss you now. And if you don’t want that…I will respect your decision.” He pauses for a long time, both your faces are only centimeters apart.
But before he can move, after giving you plenty of time to process, you stand on tiptoe and give him a kiss first.
This fully grown man, this confident beacon of swagger…blushes deep red, to the point that his ears become pink.
“I…see.” He grins like a madman before grabbing hold of you and peppering kisses on anything he possibly can. Your cheek? Yes. Your lips? Absolutely. Your forehead? Do you even need to ask?
You start to giggle at him, and he stops after a few minutes to simply inhale your scent and hold you. “I will never give you reason to doubt me, y/n. I promise.” He looks into your eyes with his beautiful twilit-colored ones, and he smiles as if he had just won everything he had ever wanted.
Before you can say anything, he holds out his hand. “I swear to you, I will always love you, y/n…” he makes his hand into a tight fist for a moment, a silent prayer in his mind before he opens it, to reveal a small, blue fish swimming in front of you. You gasp and look at it in awe. “It is my heart. Take it, it’s yours.”
You carefully put out your hand, and when it swims onto your palm, it dissolves into a soft glow that lingers on your skin. “The ocean says that it is true…my promise will never be broken.” You look up at him and blush. “I…don’t have anything that special for you, Rafayel.” You look a little sad, as you say it.
He holds out his pinkie. It’s so childish…but so like him. You twine your pinkie with his and smile. “Don’t ever break this promise, then. I’ll be watching.” He says and gives you a little smirk. You nod seriously, but then can’t help but let the giddiness in your heart overwhelm you.
The months of fighting with your innermost thoughts might not be over, but you were no longer alone. If you had reason to fear, you knew, deep down, he would tell you the truth. He wasn’t a player, he wouldn’t betray you. He wouldn’t do something like that just for a one night fling.
After all that, you’re finally relaxed. You let him lead you to the sofa and sit down to let him kiss you more, and you return the affection in kind.
The kisses are soft, loving. He kisses your eyes, your nose, your chin. He kisses the top of your head, your hands, anything you’ll give him. You kiss his knuckles, then his lips, and his cheek. He bends down closer to let you kiss his forehead, then you start to trail down and before you know it he’s stolen your lips for a deep kiss.
His hand finds its way into your hair as you slowly climb onto his lap. The kiss deepens and his tongue is now exploring your mouth as you let out a soft moan. This. This is what you’ve been craving. You just wanted to hide somewhere safe from this, because even now, it feels dangerous…like a burning inside you that will never extinguish. It’s scary, but exhilirating.
When his other hand grabs hold of your ass again, you gasp and pull back to look into his eyes. “…Do you... want this? I can stop…” he blushes as he looks away. You can tell it would be a huge undertaking for him to stop now, but he would. For you.
So when you pull him by the back of his neck in for another deep, searing kiss, he knows. His hands no longer hesitate, as he fervently grabs hold of you and forces you to straddle his lap, then going under your shirt to play with your bare breasts.
You let out a moan into the kiss as you grind against him, already back on the edge, your want and lust taking over reason as your hands wrap around his biceps to steady yourself as you purposefully grind against his ever-hardening member, as it strains against his slacks.
He groans and pulls away from the kiss to gasp for air. He sucks in a sharp breath when you lean down to start licking his exposed collarbone. “Y/n…” he starts to buck his hips up against your dampened crotch, your pajama shorts soaked now as you are completely unwound from your inhibitions now.
The alcohol has mostly worn off, and all that remains is a hunger and longing that won’t be saited by just one round. You stop to look at his eyes. Yours narrow against his wide and curious ones, as you suddenly grind down and gasp. “I’m going to-ahhh…ride you for the rest of the day, Raf…are you ready?”
He lets out a loud groan and holds your hips still against him. “Nnnnnooot if you keep going at this pace, my love….” Your heart flutters at the pet name and you chuckle. “Then do you want to take the lead…my love?” He smirks and turns a bit so he can push you down onto the sofa.
You blush and quietly look up at him, as he hovers over you. “You know…the last few times I’ve seen you…it’s been driving me crazy. Your smell…your eyes…everything has become even more beautiful…” You try not to chuckle, but a little giggle escapes anyways. “Rafayel…there’ll be plenty of time for romance later…right now…” Your eyes darken and you fix him with a stare that could make a saint go into heat. “…I need you to fuck me.”
He lets out a growl as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling your wanton scent as he starts pulling your shorts to discover no panties. He pauses to smirk and dips a finger into your slit to feel how wet you are. “Could this…all be for me?” His breath still tickling your neck as you gasp.
“M-maybe…” your blush reaches your neck as he finishes tugging your shorts off, exposing your slick folds to the cold air of your living room, the light of the setting sun filling it with radiance, and delivering a halo around the both of you.
You let out a moan when he slips his fingers inside to make sure you’re loose enough for him, as he props his other elbow on the back of the sofa. He looks down at you as you writhe and make beautiful, sensual sounds under his diligent ministrations.
He can’t be bothered to smirk or feign confidence, as he slips his fingers out to lick the juices off them. “Good girl…so wet for me…so ready for my hard cock…” Once he finishes sucking his fingers clean, he moves to remove his pants, the large tent strains against the expensive fabric as he lets out a sigh of relief upon release.
When he slips out of all his clothes, just tossing his shirt on the floor with his pants and boxers, he sees you’ve followed suit with your shirt. His cock is a beast, which you would have never suspected with your curious glances in the past. Your blush reaching the tops of your breasts as he stares for a moment in the dazzling sunset pouring in.
The pause breaks the spell for a moment, and you tilt your head. “…Rafayel?” He snaps back and immediately pulls you by your thighs to him. “I swear I’ll eat your sweet cunt out many, many times tonight…but first…” He slides the head of his cock against your folds. “My master made a request of me…”
“M-master?” You gasp and let out a moan, but the word still feels slightly foreign. But he groans as he presses into you slowly before he can answer the unspoken meaning. “Y-yes…R-raf…” “Fffffuck y/n, you’re…s-so tight…”
He takes his time to settle inside, every inch of him buried within as he pants, all his focus is on making sure he doesn’t cum right that moment. It felt like it had been centuries, and he was like a teenager with his first time again.
So when you shift to get comfortable suddenly, he groans loudly, and you gasp as he holds your hips down to still you. His hands are firm, strong, as he starts to slowly move. Setting an agonizingly slow pace, as he’s filled you to near bursting with his throbbing heat.
You’re suddenly so close after only a few minutes of this slow pace, every full stroke brushing your sensitive nub, the sounds of your slick cunt sucking him in or reluctantly releasing him again and again turning you on so much. Your hands find their way to his forearms, gripping them urgently. “R-raf…s-so close…”
He hears your words through the deep haze of his concentration, and he decides to give you your dearly needed release finally. He stays seated fully inside, as he releases one of your hips to start rubbing your already tingling clit.
You try to bite onto your fist to hold back a scream as your orgasm finally hits you, but he grabs your hand before you can cover your mouth. You can’t muffle enough of it, as his name falls from your mouth again and again, gasping, screaming, shuddering, as your back arcs and he starts to thrust into you, helping you to ride out this elusive high.
“Fuck y/n, you’re taking me so good…you’re so beautiful, f-fuck I wanna make you cum so much…” he keeps thrusting, lost in the sight of you coming undone on his cock in the waning light. His thrusts get more intense as he gets close, his moans and whimpers fill the room as yours finally die down, your walls twitching and sticky around him as he increases the tempo.
“Raaaaffff…” his name a happy sigh as your high leaves you in the decadent afterglow of your first time with the one you’d longed for. So when he starts to cuss and say your name over and over again, like a chanted prayer, you’re overcome with a swelling feeling of affection in your heart.
This man is coming undone because of you, this man who so many wish they could possess, is giving himself to you and you alone.
“Fuck y/n…c-can’t…s-stop!!” His pace becomes erratic as his hips shiver, and he starts to chant your name under his panting breath in earnest, as he stares at you with his fucking gorgeous eyes, the last rays of sunset catching in them and entrancing you as he finally hits his limit.
“C-can…I cum…m-master…” his eyes are dark and pleading as he begs, his hips still thrusting into you as you let out little gasps and moans from the intensity. Without hesitation, you clearly say. “Cum for me, my pet.” He groans loudly as that releases him, he slumps a little to thrust finally in and out, as you feel his warmth spread inside. “F-fuck…y/n…” he finally finishes after the sunlight fades to darkness, and he falls forward to collapse on top of you.
You gently run your fingers through his beautiful purple hair, the darkness not changing how much you adored the color, as both of you let your breaths steady again. “…Good boy…” You gently stroke his cheek as you stare up at the dark ceiling, the streetlights barely adding any light to the room from below.
His hand grasps yours as he pulls it to him to kiss your palm, inhaling deeply. He was still drunk on your scent, your taste, your everything.
“Rafayel…is it too soon to say that... I love you?” Your voice sounds small and meek in the void that surrounds you both, lovers entwined. “…’Bout damned time, y/n.” His voice is hoarse now, a soft mumble against your breast, as he nuzzles it idly.
You both spend the night going through phases of deep romance, to wanton passion. Neither of you wanting to stop, even when dawn began to break and flood the window of your bedroom with a warm glow.
Instead you revelled in the sight of him haloed by the sun as he fucked you again, after having lost count. And he said a silent thanks to the Gods for blessing him with the sight of you beneath him, your body covered in his love bites, his kisses, and your face showing so much love and lust all at once.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
a/n: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and it wasn't nearly as kinky as I had planned initially...(I swear there was supposed to be a lot more praise and master play originally)
I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any requests, feel free to drop me an ask!
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starmocha · 3 days
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Zayne: wash your face
Xavier: *head rubs* 🥰
Rafayel: *busy*
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≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑳𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆
──  mdni sexual content. l&ds boys' reaction to arriving home with you asleep in lacy lingerie. inclusive of: somnophilia (consensual), kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m), cum shot, vaginal sex (unprotected), slight pet name usage, praise, cursing.
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⁺₊ / an: AAAAAAA this req was SO FUN i adore somno just as much as you anonie 🙌
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caleb would have been very, very pleasantly surprised. to come home to see you asleep on your bed, curled up peacefully as you hugged a pillow? god, he'd think you look absolutely beautiful. he'd notice you wearing the lingerie in his favorite color, and it would already be enough to get him aroused. knowing you'd left a consensual note was enough for him, and then he'd have gently shifted you to lay on your back, his breath hitching as he ran his hands over your smooth skin.
"so pretty," he'd mumble; "so beautiful."
he'd intend to take his time with you, determined to keep you sleep and prolong your blissful peace just a while longer. he'd slowly trail his hands over the lace on your breast, over your cunt—and then your bra would be unclasped, and caleb would slowly, slowly, carefully pull down the waistband of the lacy thong you were wearing. and then his mouth would be on yours, a soft, slow kiss, and then his lips would trail down to your neck, leaving a mark of proof that he would be, just as you'd asked, using you for the night.
slowly, slowly, he'd trail downwards until his tongue reached out to flick at your nipple, soft, gentle swirls as his eyes carefully took note of your body's reactions. you would flinch, sometimes, maybe stir a little, but you wouldn't wake up. and caleb wanted to see how far he could push you.
he'd smile, playing with your tits, and then he'd go lower. and lower.
and his lips would find the wetness of your cunt.
still slow, gentle licks as he'd lap up your arousal, clearly pleased that his attention to your breasts had gotten you so wet for him despite you still being so fast asleep. he'd thrust his tongue inside, enjoying the slight movements of your hips to his ministrations, almost as if his actions had spurred on a dream of your own. and then when he'd finally suck on your clit, you'd gasp and open your eyes, immediately finding your fingers in his hair as the drowsiness in your eyes fade away.
he'd pull back with a grin. "shhh, 's alright, pipsqueak. i'm just gonna have a little more fun with you, yeah? go back to sleep for me?"
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rafayel would get aroused at the mere sight of you—so much so that he'd almost be tempted to take a picture. because how could he not? you looked absolutely ravishing, all splayed out on the bed for him, the lace on your body leaving little to imagination as your bare skin was so exposed to him, so... ready.
the note you'd left on the nightstand only made him smirk, but he didn't want to ruin the image in front of him so soon by rushing to use you like the note had asked him to.
instead, he slowly crawled over the mattress to kiss you, and kiss you, smiling at the way your breath would shorten slightlt, and the way your lips would part, as if readily accepting his desire even as your eyes remained peacefully closed. and by the time he pulled back, your mouth was glistening with saliva, almost swollen from all the kisses he'd used it for.
but rafayel wouldn't remove your lingerie, not just yet.
he'd pull his pants down and take out his cock, already hard, already leaking with pre-cum. and he'd start pumping. soft, slow strokes at first, easing him into the pleasure of it as he'd lean back, eyes raking over your body as he stroked his length, his cheeks quickly becoming rosy at the stimulation he was giving himself. and then he'd move faster. his hips would buck into his hand, and soft, quiet groans would fall from his lips. he'd do his best to suppress them, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise that might wake you up—
and then when he releases, his cum would splatter all over your body, ropes of white falling all over your lace as he'd lean back, breathless.
his lips would tug into a smile as you shift slightly in your sleep, his gaze turning into one of pride and admiration both.
his little masterpiece.
"oh, princess... i'm not finished with you yet."
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xavier would have jumped in surprise at the sight of you, nearly having to grab the doorframe for support. he knew you'd be here—though he had seen your messages late (and he felt incredibly guilty for it), he knew you'd texted that you would be waiting at his apartment. but he wouldn't have expected this. you, all dolled up for him, wearing such revealing lace lingerie, only covered slightly by a flimsy, see-through nightdress. his eyes would slowly scan over your figure as he'd let out a shaky breath, and then he'd immediately notice the note on his nightstand, all prettily dressed up in the same shade of ribbon that held your little nightgown in place.
and perhaps, that would be it for him—his uniform would be off in seconds, his hands moving to slip off the delicate fabric and push the lace of your thong to the side.
"fuck," he'd curse under his breath, because even you couldn't know just how aroused and needy you would never fail to make him.
and needy, he would be.
though he would try to be as quiet and gentle as he could be—not particularly wanting to wake you up—his movements would be quick and shaky, a clear struggle of holding himself back. within seconds, his mouth would be on your cunt, drinking up the wetness that spread so quickly, having you wet and ready for him so easily. he would lap at your juices, eyes closed, enjoying your taste, and then he'd never be able to make himself wait any longer.
he'd steal a glance at your face as he'd slowly push himself inside you, soft whimpers falling from his lips, as your body twitched slightly. and he'd think to himself with a smile that his actions had probably spurred on a dream, but there would be very little self control left in his body. his thrusts would gradually get faster, deeper, until he was no longer trying to be gentle—he'd fuck you awake, his cheeks flushed, his mouth open in quick, short pants.
"m-mmh... ah-" he'd moan as your eyes open wide, hips bucking into yours in a desperate pace.. "g- g'morning, angel..."
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zayne often arrived home late.
you knew this, and now, using you in your sleep had now become a common, long-established, consensual act. on days where he had long night shifts, you simply always expected something to be in store for you the coming evening... and this time, you decided to play things up a little and dress all prettily for him.
and zayne would have been nothing less than pleased at the sight of you when he returned home.
his lips would curl up into a small, satisfied smile at your sleeping figure. you looked so innocent, and so pretty, in your pastel floral lace set—just the way he liked to see you, and just enough to get him all aroused. and you had always given him explicit permission to do as he wished even while you were asleep, so he would make use of that.
his would take his time undressing himself, hanging his coat up neatly in his closet, his steps towards the bed slow and careful, not at all wanting to wake you. and then he'd start with gentle caresses. he'd loom over your body, placing soft kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, your shoulders... and then he'd lean up, whispering soft nothings into your ear, despite knowing the fact that you were too deep in your sleep to hear him.
zayne never rushed things; he'd take his time. trailing his fingers over your lace, your breasts, before dipping down to palm the wetness of your cunt seeping out from your thong. "always so wet," he'd whisper to himself, wondering if through all the times he had done things like this to you, your body had developed an automatic response to his nightly presence.
and then his fingers would be inside you, pumping, thrusting, so gentle and so nicely, almost comforting enough to lull you deeper into your sleep, harder to wake you up when he'd claim you fully. his movements were always precise, and this moment would not make it any less—determined to stretch you out and prepare you for him, determined to ensure that even your sleeping figure would enjoy every moment of the pleasure he would give you.
so when he'd push his cock into you, it's easy, and it's natural—and it's perfect.
zayne would fuck you all the way, so slow and sensual in his movements, that you wouldn't awaken from your sleep at all. you would only ever stir, and breathe out soft moans of his name, almost as if somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew what he was doing to you, probably enough to spin lewd dreams inside your mind that he would love more than anything to pry out of you in the morning.
"good girl," he'd coo into your ear. "good girl, taking me like this in your sleep."
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© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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love-and-d33pthroats · 3 months
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Love and Deepspace: Look at your grandma and childhood friend, you like them right? :3
Me: Yeah :D
Love and Deepspace:
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Thomas, to MC: If Rafayel doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.
Rafayel, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!
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rafayelism · 3 months
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dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments
featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader
(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?
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rafayel
a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 
hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).
“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”
“...you have cats?”
“yeah. 3.”
“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”
chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..
he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 
over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 
cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 
pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)
lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 
“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 
he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 
“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 
with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 
“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 
he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 
“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.
“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.
“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 
“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 
“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 
you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 
“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 
he smiles. “with flying colors.” 
xavier
chronic napper. (yapper?) 
has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)
his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 
lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.
“am i not already.. living with you?” 
“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”
“yeah..?”
 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 
xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 
“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 
“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 
“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 
“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 
xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 
“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 
he nips at your neck. 
“bedtime. now.” 
zayne
3 years older than you 
he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much
“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend
cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)
you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)
no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 
“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”
“huh? no, we live together.”
“you WHAT???”
he’s a virgo……. erm……
the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.
you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 
“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 
“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 
you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 
zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 
“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 
the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 
“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 
you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 
“thank you for waiting for me.”
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