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#lnds rafayel
manikas-whims · 2 days
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how i think the Love and Deepspace characters would respond to mc/you saying:
"can you buy me pads?"
TARA
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XAVIER
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ZAYNE
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RAFAYEL
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CALEB
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strwberri-milk · 2 days
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controversial opinion /lh /jk but rafayel can acc cook like 🧍
i see a lot of posts about him being unable to cook i just think he likes to experiment w his cooking but hes apparently a GREAT cook bc 1) in one of his 4 stars he literally makes a whole seafood dinner (that he rpetends to exclude you from but i wholly believe he fed you off screen) and literally the first secret times you unlock w him is yall making dinner?? him saying if he knew you were making fried chicken he would have picked up some fish to make alongside
i love the knowledge that?? or at least i headcanon that one of his love langauges is cooking and i strongly believe that he loves to cook for you and is definitely cheesy enough to say his food tastes so good because he cooks it with love
his only sin is playing with flavour and learning the hard way some things taste bad :( but he does also come off as the type of person who learns better from suffering consequences aka eating food that makes him wanna gag but at least he gave it a real chance
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scorpyuu · 2 days
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Goodluck Rafayel’s girlies
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cegiel-athelia · 2 days
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Changing the Poke Suffixes and seeing their reactions to it.
They are so adorable 🥰
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lunamochii · 2 months
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rafayel's version, zayne's version
Xavier prefers doing things together with you, the innocent workout that he planned out turn into a hot mess. His back leaning a bit, hands on your hips as he watch you go down on his cock.
"Careful now, love. Don't want to see you hurting yourself."
He softly says and plant his feet on the ground to stable you and himself. Xavier got you riding his cock while his still sat down on his stationary bike, your hand grabbing tightly on the handle as you moan mindlessly his name
"Xav- m'tired baby.."
"Yeah? Don't worry, got you princess."
He wrap his big beefy arms around your waist, your own hands clinging on his neck as he stood up and began to fuck you hard, just how you like it. His face leans in and kisses you on the lips, it was a lazy and messy kiss but full of love. You move your one hand and put it back on the handle of the bike, as you watch how his cock disappears inside you
His eyes darted at your breast that bounces everytime he slam deep, swallowing his own saliva. Xavier leans forward and drops a small kisses on your cleavage then let his tongue lick upward, tasting your sweat on the process
"Love you. Love you so much."
He whispers into your ear and snake one of his hand towards your already abuse clit, he began rubbing it and moans out when he felt you clenching him tight.
"Yes- that's it baby. Keep sucking my cock-"
"Xavier!"
As much as he wants to move away and just fuck you against the wall, he can't. If he move now, he will lose the feeling of your pussy deliciously clenching around his cock
"Wrap your arms around me."
You did as what he told you to, his hand left your clit and place it on the handle as he began to buck his hips faster and harder, all Xavier can hear right now is you moaning right onto his ear.
With a few more thrust, he came inside you. Painting your insides white, you slump your head on the crook of his neck and catches your breath. He move away from the stationary bike with you still stuck to him
He sat down on the bench inside his small gym room, as he cup your cheeks with his sweaty palm and began to kiss your face all over
"You think you can go for one more?"
Maybe all the energy he have built up on sleeping are mostly spent on hunting and working out but what you didn't know is, he most definitely spent it when fucking you.
"For you, Xav."
"Mhm.. all for me."
He sighs into your lips and began to move his hips, fucking his cum back into you.
Let's just say that you both ended up passing out inside his gym room, with his cock still inside you and cum leaking from your cunt.
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zaephix · 3 months
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the little things / / xavier , zayne , & rafayel . . .
slight spoilers for their myth stories
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the reason as to why XAVIER takes great care of his hair was unknown to you. why he laid his head down in your lap even after being glued to your side the whole day. the reason was simple, so that you could keep running your fingers through it. he'd gently guide your hands over to the top of his head, a soft chuckle as you kiss the button of his nose. to him, you were the core of his being, his star.
XAVIER can't stop the pleasant smile gracing his face as you revel in another victory, his eyes never leaving your form. in the same way that you ponder about what to eat for lunch, he wonders if anyone ever wished upon the stars that danced in your eyes. and as you both ready yourself for sleep, he'd found his answer. if no one else did, he'd glady be the first to do so. just ignore how his already slow heartbeat begins to slow even more against your back, how his mind travels back to that fateful night underneath the glistening cosmos. "i'll be by your side, always."
before heading to work, ZAYNE can never seem to leave your side. he'd be caught up in your soft snores, the way your chest slowly rises and falls, and your lips. he can't stop himself as he leans down to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, all the while making sure you're wrapped snugly in your blanket, your pillow fluffed from beneath you.
ZAYNE is the type of lover to text you as soon as he's on his break, asking to make sure you ate the breakfast he left for you in the kitchen, or that you remembered your wallet on the coffee table. you always tell him that he worries too much, that he should be focusing on himself, but how could he? not when his priority is your well-being, your state of self. just ignore how his breath seems to get shaky, the frost crawling up his skin and into his veins every time he's near you, sharp pains coursing through his muscle. "i won't forget you... not this time."
when it comes to showering you with affection, RAFAYEL seems to take the cake. kissing your knuckles every time he greets you, strategically pulling you away from work to cuddle with you, he knows just how and what to do at the right times. however, what he fails to notice is how he unconsciously looks for you the first thing he steps into a room, how his shoulders relax after realizing you're safe after you've texted him a little later than usual, how his hands linger a little too long in yours.
RAFAYEL has already come to the realization that he's head over heels for you long ago, just not fully realizing how bad it was. all within a second you were his bodyguard, his fishie, but most of all, his muse. he'd make the world his canvas - your eyes the rhythm hidden beneath the layers of paint. just ignore how he sometimes gets quiet when around you, his mind swirling like a paint brush dipped into watercolor. "fish are emissaries of the god of the sea, this... is my vow to you."
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poisonf0rest · 17 days
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Love Me Through Every Lifetime
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love and deepspace: rafayel x fem!reader
tags: smut, pwp, sub!raf but that quickly changes, monsterfucking to keep it simple
synopsis: For a Lemurian, there is no greater curse than love. And Rafayel is beginning to understand its dangers, especially when the full moon turns him half-delirious and desperate to claim you as his— in every way that matters.
word count: 6.9k
link to ao3
You think Rafayel might be dying. 
For two days, you have not heard a word from your overdemanding employer slash lover. Waking up around noon without a barrage of texts calling you a “lazy hibernating bear” or “neglectful partner” was unusual enough, but an irregularity you chalked up to Rafayel’s upcoming gallery exhibition. 
But by nightfall, you were confused, and by the next morning, cold dread had begun to creep in. He has still not sent a single text, not a call, nothing. Absolute silence. 
Despite agreeing to attend sparring practice tonight with Xavier, you rush out from HQ as soon as your squadron is dismissed from a mission briefing– you’ll make it up to him later. For now, you keep your Hunter’s suit equipped and reload both your pistols, tucking them into their holsters as you rev the engine of your motorcycle. 
Energy fluctuations always escalate before a full moon, and between the increase in Wanderers and the growing bounty on Rafayel's head, you feel your panic rise, the hollow ring of the moon looming overhead as you speed to Rafayel’s studio, praying that nothing has happened.
Rafayel is a mess.
It’s been centuries since he has last felt this insatiable heat, but to fall prey to his instincts was perhaps inevitable. After all, he’s finally found you again. 
Not only that, but he got too close once more, pulling you in from a stranger to an unwilling bodyguard to a friend and lover. Rafayel supposes he can only blame himself. His Lemurian biology has always keened in your presence, and he sealed his own fate when he finally coaxed you into bed with him. But he doesn't regret it— not for a moment.
However, it has been weeks since the first time the two of you had sex, and yet he still can do nothing but taste you against his tongue, nothing but imagine your face every time you unraveled against him, nothing but want you atop him, beneath him, beside him, so fucking bad he can’t think of anything else.
He had reunited with his mate. 
Of course his instincts now want to make you his, forever. 
Rafayel curses, his clothes chafing against his sensitive skin, making him burn under each suffocating layer before he hurriedly begins to rip and unbuckle each one. He wants you beside him, your touch on him. He wants so badly it burns.
With a groan, he collapses onto the coach, face buried in his hands as he genuinely worries he might die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling through every nerve. Your name lights up on his phone, the light buzzing adding to the countless missed texts and calls on the screen. Rafayel spares a glance at his phone before chucking it across the studio. He swears he might come from the thought of you alone. 
On cue, the studio’s front door opens with a bang. 
Disregarding protocall entirely you charge in, swinging both your guns around as you shout. “Rafayel! Yell if you’re trapped or injured, or... or just say something!”
There’s a crash behind you, and you nearly shoot, lowering the pistol only when you see a seagull that must have snuck in, topple over another vase, and flee through the wide open windows. 
No Wanderers. Not yet.
The studio is in ruins. Its usual “organized disorganization” would be considered neat in comparison. It looks like a thief ransacked the place, and a hurricane followed suit. Scraps of clothing and swirls of paint splatter across the floor like blood at a crime scene. 
Alarm creeps further into your voice, and you call for him again. “Rafayel! Please say something, anything, just let me know you’re okay.” You creep along the edge of the wall, turning into the main room, expecting the worst: to see him bleeding out, or knocked unconscious, or–
Lying on the couch. 
He’s lying on the couch. 
Sprawled against the cushions, you’re nearly convinced Rafayel is sleeping until you notice the audible rasp in his breathing, skin flushed red in a picture of debauchery. You felt your breath hitch as you scanned him up and down to check for injuries, his billowing shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hips, trail of dark purple hair pathing the way to his hand, which was clawing against his thigh. 
You force yourself to look away, a tremor in your voice. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”
“Stop talking.” Rafayel groans in pain and you holster your firearms before rushing to his side, kneeling by the couch as he flinches away from your body, his hand pressed to the lower half of his face. Your knees brush something rough and you look down, realizing the floorboards have been burned. 
“Your Evol,” panic returns and you reach out to check Rafayel’s temperature. “It’s acting up. We need to get you to a doctor.” Your fingers hardly brush against his forehead before they’re yanked away. Rafayel springs up, clutching your wrist so tightly you flinch, putting as much distance between the two of you as he could without releasing his hold. 
“No.” His chest is heaving, and you hardly hear him over the hand he still has over his mouth, muffling his words. “You need to leave. Right now.” 
“You’re the one holding me.”
Bewildered, Rafayel looks at his arm as though unaware of his own moments. But he makes no move to unhand you.
Slowly, you lean closer, letting your free hand rest against Rafayel’s cheek, gasping at how hot he is to the touch. Fuck. Your hand is so deliciously cool against his skin that Rafayel can’t help but lean his entire weight against it, nudging his face into your palm as a strangled whine hisses through his teeth. A tug, and you gasp as you’re pulled down, tripping into Rafayel’s lap as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner wrists. 
The position is beyond compromising, especially considering Rafayel’s state of undress. Stumbling forward, your free hand pushes against his bare chest, and you try to free yourself, willing your eyes not to travel any lower to his unbuckled trousers. “Rafayel…”
“Don’t,” he curses into your palm, inhaling deeply before biting. He moans deep in his chest, licking up your fingers, sucking gently at each digit as you feel your body flush. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t move or breathe in my direction either.” 
He continues suckling against your fingers, and you would have snapped at his ridiculous demands if it wasn’t for the fact that you doubt you could form any words at all right now, dumbfounded as a dull heat throbs against your lower stomach. 
As if noticing, Rafayel’s mouth opens with a deep breath, cursing as he goes back to nipping and kissing your wrist. “Fuck,” he laughs, delirious, “I can smell how turned on you are. You– you’re temptation itself.”
Rafayel places another kiss to your palm before yanking your arm behind him, and you gasp when his head tilts, lips grazing the column of your throat, words slurred and raspy. His breath is scalding, every gentle brush of his lips against your skin sending your nerves on edge.
You feel dizzy. 
"Don't talk. Don't even move. Just stay- hah - stay with me."
His hands, both his free one and the one pinning your wrists, roam, caressing you as he presses wet kisses along your throat. It is all you can do to hold still, but when he sucks harshly against the pulse point at the base of your neck, a moan slips through your clenched teeth. You try to squirm out of his grip, but the action only grinds against Rafayel's crotch, and you tense up immediately at the very obvious bulge, hot, sticky fluid already soaking through his trousers. 
The artist nearly sobs at the mere friction, expression a mixture of pained and pleading as he begs up at you. "Stay. Please."
He doesn't mean just for the moment. He means always, for eternity, for every lifetime he’s cursed to live. He’s never letting you go again. 
And you can do nothing but nod. 
You want to help him, really, in every way, endlessly, but taking advantage of him while he’s so helpless and desperate feels wrong. Worry sets in, and you cup his jaw, Rafayel keening into your touch with a whine. “Does this have something to do with Lemuria?”
Rafayel swallows, his hands sliding to your waist and gripping tightly, as though he expects you to disappear at any moment. You can see the indecision on his face, the conflict as he fights the desire clouding his brain. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He tries a second time and succeeds, the words sounding painful and forced even as your thumbs trace his face, caressing every edge and curve. 
"I never imagined this would happen. You’re not- I mean, it only ever happens to Lemurian mates.” He’s shaking beneath you, eyes going unfocused as your touch ventures lower, down his collarbones, squeezing at his chest, tracing his abs, and further still. “I knew you were special, my muse, but not special enough to drive me into heat.”
He’s joking, teasing you, but you can’t help the flush of arousal at that statement. Your brows furrow, the gears in your head turning. You try not to sound too excited, the thought of Rafayel in heat is enough to distract you from the urgency of the situation. Again, Rafayel notices, inhaling your scent as something trills deep within his chest. 
"If you need my help, then you have it. Any way you want.”
Your fingers slide against the hem of his trousers, and Rafayel's breath hitches. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips- you swear his nails are sharper than normal- and a sharp thrill shoots through you at the feeling. You can practically see his control slipping away, the last threads fraying, and he bites into your shoulder with a moan, fangs nipping through the fabric of your clothes.
Rafayel releases the bite and looks at you, expression wild. His pupils are dilated and his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between yours and the mark he's made.
"If you say things like that," he warns, the hand around your wrist tightening. You can't help the soft gasp that escapes, and Rafayel growls at the noise. He lurches forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth. 
"I-I can't." Rafayel pants. The expression he wears is so unlike him that it's shocking, and you feel your core clench. He's completely unraveled, hair disheveled, clothes torn and askew. 
And, fuck, you swear some of his pheromones must have infected you too, because you can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous- more than usual- a furious pink blush from the tips of his ears down to the mole on his chest you can’t stop kissing, the color a beautiful contrast to his dark locks, now wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead in thick curls. 
His eyes never leave yours, not even as they roll in pleasure, their sunset hues dimmed with an animalistic sort of hunger that makes you shiver with every forceful roll of his hips against yours. It’s punishing, brutal, and a violent contrast to the tears brimming in his eyes from the mere friction alone.
You want to ruin him. You plan on it.
"I won't be able to stop," Rafayel whines, and you can't stop your hips from rutting back against him, the sensation pulling a choked sob from his throat. You swallow the noise with a kiss, the motion so gentle compared to his desperate, frenzied fucking. It's all he can do not to break, his control already slipping through his fingers like sand. “I won’t want to, I’ll fuck you until you can think of nothing else, just me. Only me.”
The idea sends a sharp spike of heat through your core. His desperation and need for you is intoxicating, and you know his warning is sincere. He won’t let you go until you tell him to. You should be scared.
But all you can think of is his voice in your ear, begging and crying.
Your voice is hardly a whisper, "What do you need from me, Rafayel?"
"To breed you. To have my pretty human filled with my brood, to fuck you full."
You moan at the vulgarity of his words, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Rafayel groans as he fucks harder against your thigh, his own breath ragged as he tucks his forehead against your neck. 
But the mention of his brood has you nervous, and you gasp the question between moans at Rafayel’s insistent grinding. You don’t know much about Lermurian biology, but between the myths and Rafayel’s teasing, you have a vague idea that makes your head spin.
“How many, ah-” fucking hell, the word seems weird to think of, let alone say, “eggs do Lemurians usually have?”
Rafayel laughs at that, and you nearly sigh at the sound, the familiarity comforting. It isn't mocking, more surprised, and the sound is music to your ears, especially considering the delirious state he was in.
"Don't be silly, love," he teases, but his hips don't stop moving, undoubtedly soaking through his trousers and your pants. "We're not animals, we're civilized creatures."
His tone shifts, the light-hearted nature vanishing in an instant. The words are hissed against the shell of your ear, and a violent shiver runs through you. "I'll fill you to the brim, make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure every creature knows whose bitch you are. You're mine, and I'll mark you however I wish, however many times I must, until the message is clear."
A sharp pinch on the shell of your ear makes you gasp. He bit you. The pain is gone as fast as it came, replaced with a wet tongue and warm lips. A whimper slips out, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound.
"So, my lovely mate, since you’re so eager, how many eggs do you want?"
He’s mocking you. Brat. 
Blushing furiously, you shove him down, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position as Rafayel whines at the loss of contact, hips bucking into empty air. You can feel his cock throbbing against your leg, and his hand reaches out for you, fingers barely grazing your skin before you roughly push him back down.
You give him a firm look, and the sight of your stern gaze sends a fresh wave of arousal through his body, his cock jerking as Rafayel keens and throws his head back, unable to meet your eyes. He’s trembling, and the hand you pinned down flies to his face, covering his eyes as you scowl down at him.
“Alright, alright, ‘m sorry.” He laughs, trailing into a moan as you finally sit back against him. “It depends, our biology doesn’t favor us. We mate once, and despite going into these seasons our clutches only take once a decade or so. Per season is variable too, anywhere from five to a dozen.”
Up to a dozen. 
A dozen eggs.
In you.
Fuck.
You must have made a sound because Rafayel looks at you with a cheeky grin, and a mischievous glint in his eye. He can smell the want on you, the scent is driving him wild, and you know it. But the realization of your want sends another ripple of desire through him, and Rafayel grunts in pain, writing against the cushions. 
"Fuck, need you, need you so, so bad." He growls, grabbing your wrist and yanking you towards him. You lose balance, and your knees slide against the couch, falling over him with a gasp. "Need you. Need you now, please, need my mate, need you to be mine–"
Greedy. 
You scoff before his mouth is on yours again, licking up into you. He's insatiable, and as he presses closer you swear his teeth feel sharper, catching against your bottom lip.
“Poor baby,” you coo, palming Rafayel through his boxers as his eyes roll back at your touch. His mouth opens in a gasp, and you can see the hint of fangs, the razor edge of his canines. They glint in dusk’s low light, and you lean closer to get a better look. Rafayel can sense your interest, and his head lolls to the side, giving you a better view as he bares his throat, a dull blue shimmer now coating the sides, pulsing in time to his racing heart. 
It's a vulnerable position, one he would never allow anyone else to see him in. But you are not anyone, and he trusts you enough to offer himself up, trusts you to protect him as he succumbs to his desires, even if you’re the one that holds the knife. 
And you reward him for his loyalty. 
"Mmm, such a good boy, showing your mate what a pretty mess you are." Your voice is sweet and praising, and you feel Rafayel shudder violently, biting his lip deep enough to draw blood to stop the high-pitched moan that rips from his chest. Then he stills. “Did you just…” 
“Don’t tease,” he bucks into your palm, impossibly hard still in a way that is utterly nonhuman. “Just once more, make me come once more, and I’ll fuck you properly. Promise.”
You hardly need to be told twice. 
Slipping off the side of the couch, you coax Rafayel to turn with you, settling between his legs as you work at his belt. “Then let me taste you.”
His thigh jumps at that, and Rafayel throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud, his hand already lacing into your hair. 
For all that talk his cock was still surprisingly human-like. It doesn’t look too different from before, still annoyingly well-endowed and leaking violently against the angry purple-red tip. But this time there’s a faint pale blue discoloration around the base, with a shine you can’t tell is a result of his Lemurian lineage or due to the copious amounts of precum he’s dripping down to his thighs. 
Gods, he’s messy.
There’s nothing sweet in the way you fuck him within your mouth, tongue trailing a prominent vein against the underside of his dick until you reach the tip once again. Rafayel goads you forward by pushing and pulling your head with his hand and his almost obnoxiously loud moans and mumbles of praise.
Both of your hands join, one stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and the other massaging against his balls, each one heavy and tense, waiting to spill into something other than your mouth. The slick slap of skin on skin spurs you on, and Rafayel’s hand rips through the fabric on the couch with sharp nails you now feel digging into the back of your neck. 
“I’m almost–” He warns, and you nearly choke in surprise at the feeling of something swell against the base of his cock, a firm, round intrusion that has Rafayel sobbing. Then, he comes, overflowing down your throat as you force yourself off, thick ropes of cum covering your face and shooting over his bare abdomen and chest, and then more. And more. 
All of that, and he’s still hard. 
Despite the strands of cum dripping between your hands, chin, and his cock, Rafayel still feels no relief. The bulge against the base of his cock inflates more, and he trills, a deep sound akin to whalesong deep in his chest. 
“It’s no use, I need…” A breathy moan, and Rafayel yanks you both to your feet. “Ocean. Now.”
His words devolve into incoherent rambling, and you nod, dragged alongside him as he clings to you like a child, his weight nearly toppling you both over as his knees buckle. You catch him, but his strength is inhuman, and even with the help of your Evol he could crush you.
You are his.
You will finally be his.
Rafayel’s grip around you tightens, and a possessive growl rumbles against his throat. He needs to feel you against him, inside him, his instincts screaming to mark you in every way conceivable. 
The studio's back doors lead directly to the beach, and the summer night breeze hits Rafayel with a delicious chill against his burning skin. The air tastes of salt and brine, the scent familiar and comforting— the smell of home.
The ocean is as gorgeous as it is terrifying in the midst of night. The roar of the waves and the silver reflection of the full moon are the only things illuminating the vast darkness before you. Yet Rafayel shows no such fear as he tugs you further along the beach, kissing and nipping and groping at you endlessly as he strips you of your clothes, his own following suit. 
"You'll regret leaving me after this," Rafayel whispers, pressing his lips to the pulse of your neck. 
"Silly fishie," you murmur, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever leave you?"
He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You figured he was simply being overdramatic yet again, but Rafayel refuses to meet your eyes, smiling in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty. “Of course, silly me. Why would anyone ever leave me?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair, preening. ”I’m perfect.”
You scoff, shoving him gently as you roll your eyes. Of course he would be cocky right before getting his brains fucked out.
"Well, you are quite pretty for a fish."
Rafayel laughs, deep and rumbling in his chest, a contagious sound that has you laughing too, until the cold spray of the ocean hits you with a light mist. The crest of another wave surges against you, curling around your ankles and knees as the tide ebbs and flows. Rafayel spares you one last teasing grin before running further into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a splash. 
You can’t help but feel nervous as you watch and listen for a break in the sea, knowing when your lover emerges, he will be a wholly different being than the one you’ve memorized every curve and edge of. 
But you want him to know you’ll accept him regardless. No matter how scaled or fish-like or ugly he may become. 
As if testing you, your mind conjures up a horrid fish-monster complete with swampy hair and a shark’s face before you chase the thought away, shaking your head violently. There’s no way a man as gorgeous as Rafayel could turn into a creature so hideous… Right?
Regardless, you’d help him. Regardless, you’d stay with him, love him. 
This you vowed.
And the ocean listens, seafoam curling around your ankles before it retreats, carrying with it your promise into its depths. Keeping it. 
A splash breaks the surface of the waves and you squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you see the outline of a man, cutting through the waves with a dull glow, as if parting the waters themselves. 
“Surely you don’t plan on making me wait any longer.” Rafayel complains, “Join me, my muse. My heart.” 
His voice coaxes you forward, and like a sailor drawn by a siren’s call, you walk further into the ocean. Each soft wave crashes higher against your legs until the salty spray hits the bare skin of your stomach, and you flinch from the chill against every sensitive part of your body. 
Finally, he’s close enough for you to see everything in the evening glow, and your breath leaves you entirely. 
He’s still your Rafayel, the mischievous glow against his duochromatic eyes reminds you of that much, but there’s a vibrant blue glow to them, a clearer blue than the ocean itself, one that freckles down his neck and body with bioluminescent markings. There’s also that familiar pointed smile he still wears, only, at the upper corner you catch the glint of fangs. Even longer than before. A splash, and your attention snaps behind him, where an enormous tail flicks impatiently out of the waves, a pale blue rippling into the color of the ocean’s depths, complete with purples and blues so dark it could be night itself. 
Dragging a hand across his cheek, you press your forehead against his own. “You’re gorgeous.” 
Rafayel’s ears heat up, and he can hardly stop himself from succumbing to his instinct begging him to take you, to lure you into the stormy depths and to fuck you until you lay writhing, full of his brood on the seafloor. 
Instead, he lets you explore him, his new body, and what remained of the man you knew. Drunk on his siren’s call, you are pulled closer to him, waves lapping at your chest now as you trace the swirls of purple, vermillion, and gold markings dancing down his chest, scales of the same hues following down until the warmth of Rafayel’s skin turns to the cold, smooth feel of scales and he gasps against your touch. 
One moment you’re standing against the waves and the next you’re dragged back to shore, pinned against the sand.
“I’m sorry, I promise you’ll have more time to ogle and worship my body another day.” You scoff, about to throw a snarky reply when Rafayel presses his tail between your legs, yards of it still tailing behind the two of you as you’re effectively pinned. “But right now, I need to breed my pretty little mate full.”
You whine, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he can babble any more nonsense. His lips taste like seafoam and smoke, and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his tail begin to roll into your hips, the motion smooth from the foreign texture of his scales and your own dripping slick. 
“Ah, you’re going to have to…” Almost embarrassed, Rafayel’s hand leaves yours, trailing down his own body as he prods against the underside of his tail. Curious, your fingers follow his own, finding a spot where the rough scales turn soft and smooth, a seam that feels like muscle, and within it, an equally wet slit. “There.”
You’re too desperate to even tease him, working your fingers in gentle circles until you ease one in, stroking the smooth velvet of his walls until both of your fingers can slip in. Then, something bumps against your fingers, prodding as you help coax it out. 
Rafayel groans, his enormous body convulsing as he presses against you. “Hurry up.” He grinds harder, nearly pulling you deeper into his slit. “Hurry up, hurry up, you’re taking too long.”
Rafayel has always been a demanding lover. But not like this. Not like he might actually die if he isn’t inside of you right at this very moment.
You huff, amused. Why not make him suffer just a little more? 
“What do we say when we want something, Rafayel?”
“Fuck. You are impossibly cruel, can’t you see I’m already suffering and yet still you make an effort to be so–” You curl your fingers up, knuckles roughly knocking against his still-sheathed cock. You very well almost come undone at the face he makes, twisted in pleasure as his eyes roll back, jaw slack with a high-pitched whine as he arches into your punishing touch. “Please! Please, ah, I’ll beg. I’ll beg, I’ll- fuck - I’ll fill you so well, I swear, just let me breed you.”
How could you say no to something so sweet?
Finally pulling his cock free, your breath catches at the sheer weight of it, heavy against your stomach and at least two inches longer and rough to the touch, ridges slick with how badly he’s leaking as you feel up and down his tapered length. But, unlike back at his studio, this liquid is clear and leaves pinpricks against your palm, almost going numb as he spills and drips onto your skin. 
Rafayel gasps, “Antispastic. It’s muscle relaxant to keep our mates comfortable and pliant for us.” 
Comfortable and pliant. You suddenly feel the very opposite, especially when you remember the end goal of this mating session. 
“Shh,” Rafayel coos against your ear as though hearing your fears, his fingers already working against your entrance as he whispers sweet nothings and praise into your ears. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt any more than you want it to.”
And with that his fingers retreat, grinding his enormous form closer as you feel the nudge of his cock against your core, pushing in with the help of the gentle rocking from the waves, tapered tip making the stretch easier. 
You wince and Rafayel immediately kisses you, distracting you with his tongue before he hilts himself in one brutal movement, pinning you down as you thrash in protest. The pain only blinds you for a second, and then the relaxant does its work, filling you with a warm, tingling feeling that almost has you floating. You let out a garbled plea and Rafayel coos in response, lacing his fingers with yours. 
Despite already being fucked deep within you, Rafayel’s hips rut insistently against yours, pushing and pushing until you can feel the round bulge at the base of his cock grind against your clit, making you cry into his lips. 
Every ridge on the side of his cock catches deliciously against your walls, and you arch off the beach, your legs twitching against Rafayel’s tail until he lifts one up, nipping against your ankle and calf before hooking it over his shoulder, still suckling at the delicate skin around your inner thigh.
The intimacy of it all scares you. 
For the past month Rafayel has been insatiable, as if once he finally got you in his bed he never wanted you to leave again, always finding a way to lure you on top of him or trap you underneath, the perfect picture of lust. Regardless, it would always end with fast, frenzied fucking. But not like this. 
Not with him slowly rocking into you, pulling back until just his tip remained before grinding all the way in as he whispered songs in a language you could not understand. Not with him intertwining his fingers with yours and watching your every reaction with utmost receptiveness and adoration. Not with him kissing away your tears as you come undone. 
But for Rafayel, this was long overdue.
After all, he’s chased you throughout every lifetime, forsaking his people, giving up his heart, and vowing himself to you time and time again despite knowing how it ends— how it always will.
Your face goes slack at your sudden orgasm, but Rafayel helps you through it, one hand unlacing from yours as he thumbs your clit until your shudders subside. He whispers, not caring that you’re still too fucked-out to hear. “I’m not a patient man, you know. I’ve been waiting for centuries. And now you’re here, you’re here and you’re all mine.” Another kiss to your forehead before he feels that uncontrollable heat rise again, letting it take over. “I’m never letting you go again.”
When you come to the first thing you feel again is the rhythmic pounding against your sweet spot, and you writhe against the sand with a violent gasp. Desperate for some sort of relief, your hands push at Rafayel’s chest, futilely trying to force him back or at least get him to slow down until another particularly rough thrust has you sobbing, clawing at his arms and shoulders.
But Rafayel hardly seems to notice. He’s lost himself entirely, eyes glazed over as they fixate on where his cock bullies into you, muscles across his back and tail pushing him forward with a force that makes you scream. Fueled by your mindless whimpers, he forces his cock in deeper, chasing his release so he can finally, finally fuck you full. 
Rafayel also doesn’t last long, his third orgasm hitting him violently enough that he nearly collapses on top of you, purring against your throat with a trill that comes from deep within his chest. His fangs dig into the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he continues to come, rope after rope coating your cervix, filling you with a warmth alongside the muscle relaxant. You nearly come too, almost uncomfortably wet, slick enough that even the monstrous ridges alongside Rafayel’s cock slip deeper and deeper inside you with terrifying ease. 
Again, he moans something in another language, a series of clicks and purrs rumbling from his chest, eyes dark and unfocused as he forces you to look up at him. “You’ve been so, so good for me. Pretty little mate needs to be fucked full though, ya? Need to be filled with my brood?” You don’t even realize you’ve come at his words, something else squirming against your clit below his swollen base. Rafayel licks your tears away, tongue nonhuman as its length curls around your cheek, moaning at the taste of your sweat, arousal, and seasalt. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll defy your silly human biology, make you a mommy.”
Fighting to prop yourself up against the sand, you reach down, hand trembling as it thumbs against Rafayel’s slit once more. But this time, something else has begun to emerge.
Rafayel sobs against your neck, keeping what you now realize is his first cock buried greedily inside you, unwilling to pull out by any more than an inch. Drunk off of him, you messily press two fingers into his slit, hiking your legs further up his shoulders to give you better access to where the two of you are joined against the splash of the waves. 
Dipping your fingers in, you inhale sharply at the squirm of something rough, thumbing the coil out as it writhes and curls into the warmth of your palm. his second cock is not, well, it’s a tentacle for lack of a closer human anatomical reference. All ridges and scales as you coax it to a similarly monstrous length as the first, but thicker, writhing as though possessing a mind of its own.
And right below it, you feel the obvious bulge against Rafayel’s tail where his eggs are. 
You’re suddenly very, very grateful for the Lemurians’ natural muscle relaxant. 
Despite the slick practically leaking from you, you still tense as the tip of the tentacle dick begins to flick and tease at your already full entrance, not giving you a moment to breathe before it begins pushing in alongside the first. It pokes and prods enough to have you whimpering before Rafayel holds your thighs still and thrusts, forcing both his cocks in to the hilt.
It feels impossible. It shouldn't be possible.
But the way he fits is perfect, a tight, burning stretch, the ridges along his first cock and the suctions on the second bruising you in ways that make you scream, vision going dark around the edges as Rafayel moans into your ears. Your cunt feels abused to the point of numbness, the pain dissolving as your mouth hangs open, jaw slack as nonsensical babbles and pleas fall from your lips. 
And, fuck, Rafayel doesn’t even bother waiting to let you regain your sanity before his two cocks start pistoning in and out of you, the bottom one curling and stroking against the first, effortlessly brutal along the slick walls of your cunt. His fangs ghost along the shell of your ear as he splays his huge, slightly webbed hand across your lower belly. 
"How deep am I?" He rolls his hips again, rougher. You cry as Rafayel’s weight forces you to tuck further under him, nearly folding you in half as your legs press against his tail. "Can I go deeper? Can I? Please, please, please—" 
You gasp, mewling and writhing as you feel the bottom cock begin to squirm again. Bullying its way into your cervix, it thrashes violently against that spongy spot inside you that has your vision spinning. Rafayel is fairing no better, losing the capacity for human speech altogether, moaning as his cock finally breaches the tight ring of muscle, fucking into your womb.
Even through the haze, legs numb and twitching, your body still convulses in protest as you feel the bulge pressing against your clit begin to move. Rafayel shudders right as it does, clawed hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forces you impossibly closer. The bottom cock twitches, coaxing your womb open, and you moan as you feel the bulge creep forward.
This should hurt, it should horrify you, and yet it only breaks you in ways that will ruin you for any future lovers. Not that you ever plan on leaving him. Not after this. 
Rafayel thrusts one last time, waves raging around you as he does so, and you nearly sob as you feel the bulge shift up his length, dragging slowly against your walls until it presses against your cervix. Even then you only cry in pleasure, nails digging bloody crescents into Rafayel’s shoulder as he does the same against your thighs, the antispastic doing its work in keeping you deliriously wet and pliant. You roll your hips desperately against your lover, and the sudden shift in position forces the first egg beyond the tight barrier, falling into your womb.
Gods. It feels heavy, it feels wrong, it feels so fucking good you come again with a silent scream.
Rafayel swallows every noise with a messy kiss, his serpentine tongue curling around your own and sucking, nearly fucking itself into your mouth as you get lightheaded from both the lack of air and the press of his second egg already at your entrance. You sob into Rafayel’s lips, greedily moving your hips against his own, forcing him in further before he obliges, shoving your thighs further apart until your knees touch the sand too. Then you feel the weight of the second egg bump against the first, overwhelmed as the next has already begun stretching you full again. 
The two of you are reduced to little more than animals, helpless fucking and licking and moaning against one another as the eggs come one after another, again and again and again until your womb feels bloated and abused, the feeling euphoric thanks to the copious amount of relaxant and cum already flooding you. Rafayel’s bottom cock convulses after depositing the seventh egg, its tip finally wriggling out from your cervix’s vise grip against it, sucking and soothing your abused walls as you come once again, sobbing and numb to the pleasure-pain.
“Perfect,” Rafayel coos against your lips, rutting insistently inside you as his fingers lace with yours, forcing you to feel the taunt skin over your womb, the bulge obvious and hyper-sensitive. “You did so well, my perfect little mate, you deserve a reward don’t you?” 
Unable to form words, you nod, your entire body trembling as Rafayel laughs, thrusting his hips again, each one sharp and punishing against your overly-sensitive cunt, pelvis smacking your clit as your vision spins. He trills, a shudder overtaking his enormous body as his scales glow, pale blues and deep purples flicking violently down his skin and tail as the waves crash around him, continuing until he comes inside of you. It’s endless, the warmth coating every aching surface of your cunt up until your poor stretched womb, hot and thick as you feel Rafayel futilely attempt to keep it all in you with his dicks and then fingers. 
What does end up squirting back down your thighs and onto his abdomen is lapped up by the ocean, and the waves offer a cool relief as Rafayel finally pulls out and collapses onto the sand beside you. You feel simultaneously horribly empty and heavy, something Rafayel takes note of as he pulls you against him, humming into your neck and wrapping his arms around yours, careful not to place any pressure against your sensitive middle. 
He groans against your ear, and you turn in panic, only to see him back to his human form, the only evidence left of his tail the deep valleys against the sand where it once rested. You immediately regret moving, however, as the weight against your womb lurches you off balance and you moan before stilling yourself on your side. Holy fuck, how long will this last? 
“R-” your voice is raspy and you wince, “Rafayel?” 
He hums in answer, already kneeling beside you before lifting you easily in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he litters butterfly kisses over your forehead and nose. “What you said about the, um, fertilizing thing. These won’t actually hatch, will they?”
Again, Rafayel laughs, pressing his nose against the top of your head as he inhales. Another giggle. “Maybe.” You hit him. Hard. “Ouch, meanie. No, even with all of that there’s hardly a chance Lemurian clutches take. Not to mention you’re a human, so therefore not our necessary host.” 
You choose to let his provocative word choice go over your head and sigh in relief. Thumbing gently against the bulge of your lower stomach, you lean further into Rafayel’s chest, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart thumping in time to the crash of the waves. 
“But,” Rafayel sings the word with a playful lit. “If any of them do happen to fertilize, we can just fish them out before they hatch.”
“We can what.”
Gods, what did you get yourself into?
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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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seaofgoldensand · 2 months
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i will never get over how beautiful the scenery is in the game
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kykyonthemoon · 2 months
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How to take care of your on-period girlfriend
During that time of the month, you receive special treatment from him.
ಇ. Character x Female Reader
with Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb.
ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, pain & comfort
ಇ. Word count: 3k4
ಇ. Note: Some details in this fic are inspired by in game Tender Moments.
ಇ. Requested by Mỗi ngày nhặt một anh làm chồng and an anonymous reader on my ask box.
ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
In the middle of the night, you awoke with such discomfort in your lower belly and an aching feeling throughout your body. You knew it was that time of the month; in fact, it was a few days late due to recent work-related stress. You didn't expect to have your period today, so waking up at this hour with discomfort all over your body was quite uncomfortable to you.
Your hand found the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. Rafayel has left you several messages and missed calls. Perhaps you fell asleep without realizing it due to fatigue. You decided to get up and use the bathroom for a while. That's when you discovered you were missing what you needed most at home.
You grumbled and switched the phone screen back on. You were reluctant to disturb him at this time, especially because he was attending an exhibition in another city and you were not sure if he had returned yet. But you were upset and missed the times like this when he took care of you. Just before dialing his number, your phone rang.
"I've seen you online for a while. What's up? Can't sleep?"
Rafayel's voice rang out from the other end of the line, full of energy still. You just answered with a few short phrases, summarizing the current situation for him and told him that you were about to go out and get the necessary supplies.
"Just stay there." Rafayel stopped you. "Do not go anywhere. Wait for me."
You were a little confused why he had told you to stay home. But just now, you were too tired to have the strength to ask. Besides, you could not go out in this state, when you just wanted to faint on the floor.
You washed and changed into a new set of pajamas. Luckily, you found a spare sanitary pad left over in the closet that was sufficient for your needs. As soon as you got out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open. Rafayel appeared there, with a bunch of bags wrapped in both hands.
“How are you now? Does it still hurt?"
You shook your head, primarily to reassure him. But glancing at your pallid face, he knew you were lying. And you were taken aback when he arrived here, at this hour.
“Didn't you leave Linkon for the exhibition a few days ago?”
“That event was nothing special. I was on my way home when you called. I stopped to get you a few things before coming here.”
"Just a few things?" You gazed at the mound of items Rafayel had just purchased and set on the floor. "Why does it look like you bought everything in the store?"
Rafayel grinned at you. He softly aided you in getting down, leaning your back against the cushion and placing your feet on the couch. After that, he began taking out everything from those bags, which startled you a lot.
He had purchased you sanitary products in the form of pads, panties, tampons and even menstrual cups. One of each type and brand. There were also several pain relievers, vitamins and more. When he noticed your amazement, he said:
“Since I don't know which type you usually use, I bought one of each.”
Rafayel laughed. And you, even though your face was pale, felt so content due to his silliness.
“You could have just asked me.” You responded.
“I won't be able to see your surprised smile then. Since I've made you laugh, I must be a fantastic boyfriend, right?”
You slumped entirely back on the couch, still laughing but murmuring: "You must be a fantastic fool."
Lemurians' bodies are not like humans, you appreciated Rafayel's efforts to learn about your cycle and care for you in this manner. He plopped down on the couch next to you, lifted your legs and placed them on his lap. His slender hands rubbed them gently.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
You shook your head. “It doesn't hurt much. Just mild cramps.”
Rafayel nodded. He still remembered you often got cramps in your legs every time your period came. He continued massaging your legs before moving on to your tummy.
“What about this place?”
When your lower abdominal contractions resumed, you let out a tiny cry. Rafayel immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry… Did I hurt you?”
“I-It's okay…” You tried to smile. “I'll probably feel better after a good rest.”
Rafayel's expression shifted slightly. His hand returned to your lower abdomen, continuing to gently rub it. “There you go again. Just say you're hurt when you're in pain. No need to try to act strong in front of me. Did you forget about our agreement last month? Whenever you have your period and are so weak like this, I will become your bodyguard.”
In the lying position, you could see half of Rafayel's face illuminated in the warm glow of the nightlight. His eyes were both concentrated and kind as he continued to ease the pain in your stomach. Suddenly, you couldn't help but jab your finger into his face. He pouted and puffed out both cheeks. Just like a puffer fish.
“Okay, it's all my fault. Now I will let Rafayel take care of me without worrying that I'd bother you.”
"Good. Even though I don't know how to take care of humans, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!”
Rafayel joyfully grasped your hand and kissed the palm to make it less cold. He continued rubbing your abdomen, singing a melody that put you at peace.
“Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, I will still be here, right next to you.”
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 
As a child, you imagined your knight arriving in shining armor on a white horse.
It turned out that your knight did not have a horse, but rather a white Hunter's uniform and a coat that he had just removed to wrap around your waist.
It happened when Xavier and you had just finished dealing with the Wanderers on the outskirts of Linkon City. Late at night, an unusual incident occurred. You hurriedly arrived to take on the task, unaware as that time of the month had come.
Perhaps you were too preoccupied with work to remember when your period would start. After finishing the task, you were dismayed to realize that the blood on your dress was not the blood of the Wanderers at all.
Xavier discovered it through your frightened eyes and trembling body. Immediately, he took off his coat, wrapped it around your waist to cover the blood stains, and even carried you a long way home on his back.
Your arms were wrapped around Xavier's neck, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. You felt so embarrassed to let him catch you in such a messy state. However, Xavier continued to soothe and console you. He said:
"It's not a problem at all. You don't need to be embarrassed about this very normal thing."
Even though it still did not feel right, you said nothing more. You were exhausted enough, and your aching body was screaming for a rest.
Xavier took you back to your apartment. You thanked him profusely and quickly went to take a shower. After that, sensing the silence outside, you assumed that Xavier had returned to his home. Unexpectedly, you caught a pack of painkillers on the table. Next to it was his phone.
You did not intend to peek, but because the phone screen was still on, you accidentally saw the content that Xavier was reading: How to take care of your girlfriend during her periods.
You chuckled to yourself. It turned out Xavier was learning how to take care of you. Then, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the phone back.
“Are you done? Take your pill now."
Xavier gave you a cup of warm water. You smiled: "I thought you went home."
He slowly dropped himself into the seat next to you. “You are so hurt. How can I go home?”
"I'm alright. I'm going to sleep soon, tomorrow I'll feel better.”
Xavier did not seem to take your word for it. He grasped your hands.
“Aren't you going to be in pain for two or three days to a week?”
“Did you just read that on the internet?”
Xavier pondered for a time before nodding: “I... am not very familiar with these things. But I'll stay here until you feel better. Is that okay?"
You gave him a nod and a smile. Xavier got you a painkiller. After taking it he let you lean on the sofa, held your hands tightly, rubbed and breathed on them to bring some warmth.
After a while, your lower abdomen started to hurt. Xavier expressed concern as he noticed your expression:
“It hurts a lot, doesn't it? May I give you a massage?”
He waited for your approval with a nod before placing his hand on your tummy. He gently stroked it clockwise and inquired: "Is this better?"
You shook your head. One hand pointed to the lower abdomen, somewhat below where Xavier's hand was lying. “Here.”
“I see.”
Xavier's fingers went lower, causing you to flush slightly. Xavier said again:
“I only have two hands. One is warming your right hand, the other is massaging your belly. What should I do with your left hand?"
You gazed down at your hand. It wasn't chilly enough to warrant staying warm, but Xavier insisted on it. He also came up with a new idea:
“How about you put your left hand on me.”
You were astonished for a second. "Put it… on you?"
"Yes. Here..." Xavier raised his shirt slightly, showing his abdomen, and glanced at you with anticipation. You sheepishly placed your hand there, and he pulled his shirt down again. “Is it warm?”
You nodded, not sure what else to say. The warmth from his body made you feel heated within. Xavier proceeded to rub your hand and belly. Your hand, which had been put on his body for a short period of time, now became restless. It crept gently upward, to where you could feel his heartbeat quickening.
Xavier stared at you, considered for a time, then said nothing. Since he had let it slide, your hand glided down, past a layer of firm muscles, and then a bit further…
“If you continue to be so naughty, I'll get angry.”
Xavier leaned close to your ear and murmured, his tone irritated, but his gestures seemed to lean heavily on you.
Your fingers twitched slightly as you attentively watched Xavier's slightly furrowed expression. He went on to say: "When I'm angry, it will be quite terrifying. So be a good girl for me.”
Your hand, which was resting in Xavier's, was drawn to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses against it with heated breath. His eyes darkened somewhat; perhaps it was simply the light. You whispered an apology and returned your hand to its previous position. Xavier gazed at you with a small smile.
"If you're sleepy, just lean on me."
"Yes." You responded gently, placing your head on his shoulder and yawning loudly. No matter what the situation was, with him by your side, you would always be safe.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 
You were astonished when Zayne showed up at your door late at night after his shift. Seeing your pale and fragile appearance, he asked you to go to the bedroom for some rest. After faltering a few steps, you nearly collapsed to the floor.
Fortunately, Zayne's dominant arms caught you in time. With one quick movement, he lifted you up with ease.
“Put your arms around my neck.”
Zayne said, and you obediently followed. He carried you to your room, put you on the bed, and drew the blanket over you.
"Give me your hands." You placed your hands on his. Zayne stroked your hands briefly to warm them up before placing them beneath the blanket. "I will make you some tea. Remember to keep yourself warm."
You nodded sheepishly. Your eyes followed Zayne's wide back as it vanished beyond the bedroom door, and you wondered how he knew you were on your period.
You were not convinced this was a coincidence since Zayne prepared you a cup of jujube tea that he had brought with him. He used to give you that drink on days like this. He said it would make the pain less severe. And it was true.
"Drink this. Then eat the red dates, too."
Zayne handed you a cup of tea that he had just blown to cool down the heat. He sat down next to you on the bed. You ate a jujube, turned to look at him, and noticed his palm was already open in front of you.
“Spill it out here.” He said. You looked at him for a moment and then did what you were told. Zayne smiled with satisfaction, patted on your head, then took back the almost empty cup of tea from your hand to it on the night table.
“Feeling better?” Zayne inquired pleasantly as he assisted you in lying back on the bed. 
You smiled faintly and said:
“Just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit better.”
He laughed at your childish behavior. “If it hurts too much, you'll have to go to the hospital.”
You frowned and shook your head vigorously.
“Don't want to? If so, you need to get a good night's sleep. When you wake up, you will definitely be better.”
You gently tugged on Zayne's arm, whispering: "So... Can I get special care from Dr. Zayne? That way I'll get better faster..."
He looked at you with smiling eyes then nodded. You shifted slightly to the opposite side of the bed, making room for him to lie next to you. He instructed. He said:
“Turn around. Then slightly bend your knees closer to your stomach.”
You did what he told you. Your back turned to him, and very soon, you felt the warmth from his body enveloping you.
Zayne embraced you from behind. One of his hands went under the pillow to lift your head up a bit, the other was placed on your stomach. His hand appeared to be large enough to cover your entire stomach. With a delicate touch, his hand began to travel in a circular rhythm on your lower belly.
At first, you felt ticklish and heated given the embarrassment caused by his touch. In addition, Zayne's steady breath was blowing on your hair from behind. He asked:
“Feeling better yet?”
"Yes." You replied softly. “Doctor Zayne's hand is so warm…”
You caught his quiet laughter. He pressed his body closer to you, while you just wanted to hide your face in the pillow. Then, you suddenly remembered what you had wanted to ask him just now:
“How did you know my period would start tonight? You even brought me tea.”
“Can you guess how?”
“Hmm… Let's see. You knew the exact date last month even though I didn't tell you about it... And the month before that too..."
Doctor Zayne allowed you to think about it for a minute. Zayne's knowledge of the days your menstrual cycle would start was most likely due to his perfect memory. Thinking about this, you turned around and his lips brushed your forehead.
"Eh…"
You froze for a second. Doctor Zayne gazed at you. He was so near that you forgot what you were about to say.
"You've got the answer yet?"
Your face became as crimson as the jujube tea. His breath danced over your cheeks as you responded:
“Um… I already knew the answer… Dr. Zayne is so busy, yet he still remembers my cycle?”
“I remember everything related to you.” Zayne spoke, his expression very serious and full of concern. You reluctantly turned aside.
"T-Thank you…"
You noticed Zayne's body pressing closer to yours. He buried his face in your hair and the nape of your neck, his hand continuing to rub your lower abdomen. He whispered:
“Get well soon. Although I hope that what makes you better is not painkillers or tea… but me…”
The corners of your mouth stretched out, smiling so widely that you could not close it. You grabbed his rough hand that was placed on your stomach and replied:
“Doctor Zayne has always been my elixir!”
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
The door to your room opened in the middle of the night, and Caleb emerged, blocking the entire entrance. He was holding a hot compress bag, a glass of milk, and sanitary pads.
"I'm here to rescue you, Pipsqueak."
Caleb turned on the nightlight to see your pale face and unkempt hair. You were writhing on the bed, in anguish from your period. You could only send him a text message with the strawberry emoji and a sobbing expression. He arrived at your bedside about five minutes later.
He assisted you up, gave you some painkillers, and then pressed the hot compress bag on your stomach. You frowned.
"Do you need to be so harsh with someone who is sick?"
"It's on you for not listening to me. Even though you knew you were about to start your period, you still had the urge to drink lots of cold drinks. You only listen to me when you're in pain?"
You grimaced and rolled over on the bed. Due to your sudden movement, you got cramps in your shoulder blades. You cried loudly for help. Caleb just sighed in helplessness. He helped you lie upright again and rubbed your shoulders.
“If I'm not here, who would you whine to?”
Since you knew Caleb was home, you texted him. However, you did not say anything after that. The anguish had utterly drained you. Caleb couldn't stand to torment you any longer after knowing about your situation. He leaned you on his lap and helped you sip your pain reliever and warm milk. The hand on your back kept rubbing you.
"Is it so painful? "Can you try to get some sleep?"
You replied by shaking your head. Caleb patted you some more. "Then I will stay here with you. Okay?"
This time you nodded. Caleb drew you closer. He removed the hot compress bag from your tummy and began rubbing it with his hand. All of a sudden, your childhood came back, when you had your period for the first time and Grandma was not home; there was only Caleb. Even though you had learnt in advance that all girls would have to go through her period every month, you were nevertheless terrified when it arrived. Fortunately, Caleb was by your side. He raced to get sanitary pads for you, poured hot tea, and helped you warm your hands and feet.
At that time, you were really timid. And perhaps from there you saw the differences between you and Caleb. Both of you were no longer innocent children. This unusual feeling also steadily grew since. 
"Lucky you're here…" You whispered, a hand softly tapped on Caleb's.
"Of course. I'm always by your side, pipsqueak." He responded, then lavished you with several delicate kisses on your hair.
"Caleb… Don't disappear, okay?"
Surprised, he said, "Where can I disappear to?I still have to comfort you with your favorite meals tomorrow."
"Tomorrow…" You instantly recalled having a date with Caleb at the amusement park. But this unexpected menstrual cycle ruined that plan. "I'm sorry…"
"No problem." Caleb stroked you on the head. “You can compensate me another day. For now, you just need to rest well.”
“But I still feel like it's my fault… It's been a while since you could have a day off, yet we can't go out…”
Caleb smiled gently. He tucked your loose hair behind your ear. When he looked into your eyes, he said:
“If you're bored, we can watch the series you like together tomorrow. Or play some games.”
Upon hearing that, your mood brightened a little. You loved spending with Caleb, whether it was a date outside or just hanging out at home. They all brought joy to you.
Caleb placed a kiss on your forehead. He went on:
“Don't think too much about it. Go to sleep now so you'll have the strength to bother me again tomorrow."
You laughed. Caleb was always such a teaser, but that was the reason why you were so happy around him.
Coaxing you for a while, when you started to fall into a deep sleep, Caleb whispered softly in your ear:
“Being able to come home and be with my pipsqueak, that's the best kind of vacation for me.”
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manikas-whims · 24 hours
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i have played this game for like.. a grand total of 10 days and i can't stop thinking about this 😂 so here!
used my own model for mc
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d3vonss · 2 months
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If Rafayel’s new banner wasn’t enough proof of Big Tiddy Rafa, then take a look at this-
he has boobs. and they BOUNCE. boing boing boing.
…if you need a bra you can just ask-
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yuzuocha · 3 months
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Zayne: That is called a traumatic experience.
Zayne, turning to Rafayel: Not "lmfao".
Zayne, turning to Xavier: Not "oof".
Zayne, turning to MC: And DEFINITELY not "oof lmfao".
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dawnbreakersgaze · 2 months
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After playing Love and Deepspace for a bit now, while going for a second play through this scene hits a lot harder after you learn the lore of the Lemurians and Rafayel specifically
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Let's talk lore and theories below, shall we~
Knowing that Raymond should have died by now, and that he WANTS Zayne to ask why (coupled with the Lemurian skeleton) is pretty much a dead giveaway that he's harvesting them for his longevity. He seems smug that he's done what Zayne and his fellow Doctors couldn't, and then almost taunts that Zayne is being held back by staying at Akso.
What I didn't catch the first time, however, was that he's keyed into the area Zayne is researching (the Tower or whatever it is currently) on Mt. Eternal.
As far as I know, Xander Sciences isn't a name we've heard again (correct me if I'm wrong, this is why I'm replaying the whole story again, so I can try and catch the things I didn't understand the first time), but we know someone is after Rafayel specifically and this is a pretty good lead already.
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The irony of it all though, is Raymond having the "cursed" painting that almost killed him.
Painted by whomst???
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Why our dear darling God of the Sea himself 🐠 like what a tasty little piece of revenge lol. I can't remember if this painting was specifically made for Raymond (commissioned?) or a chance purchase, but my god it's kind of amazing on Raffy's part if it was purposefully done. Sending a booby trapped painting of the bloody death of your people to the man who's brutally harvesting them and displaying their remains in his home like a fucked up macabre museum piece. It's just 😚👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼 so perfect.
I won't lie, the whole chapter is so much more uncomfortable and creepy when you've got more context 😖
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chaos-in-deepspace · 5 days
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LNDS Rafayel: Questions That Keep Us Up At Night (18+)
I started writing this yesterday but then a certain SOMEONE made me brainrot over Xavier, so here we are today. My only goals today is to finish the Xavier brainrot I have and then get a request page set up. Wish me luck and enjoy the torture I put our local fish boy through. This was supposed to be another crack fic but alas here we are.
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Suggestive Questions, Non-Human Mating Suggested, Teasing Synopsis: You just needed to know the answers to some of the questions that kept you up at night. Who knew Rafayel would be so...flustered over them. Word Count: 1,597
Blog Information | Masterlist
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Rafayel
Questions That Keep Us Up At Night Reader x Rafayel
“So do Lemurians lay eggs?” It had been an innocent question, one that you asked so casually you hadn’t even bothered to look up from your phone. The room was suddenly silent, the noises of chopping from earlier had disappeared and you finally looked up from your screen to see Rafayel just staring at you from the kitchen.
His face looked complex, a mixture of amusement and horror crossing it as he processed what you had just asked him. He blinked a few times before taking in a deep breath to reorient himself. He should be used to your eccentric questions at this point, hell he often asked you some pretty weird things. He just wasn’t expecting this on a Tuesday afternoon.
Rafayel finally managed to look back at you, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were so curious about Lemurians.” He was putting on an air of indifference it would seem, “Out of all the questions though, why this one? You aren’t thinking of trying to do something to me, are you?”
“Okay well first off, always thinking about that.” You began, making Rafayel choke on air for a split second, “Second off, I’m just curious. Mammals are known for giving live birth, but most aquatic life lay eggs. So where do Lemurians fit in all this?”
“If I’m not mistaken, mammals are classified as having hair or fur on them, so by those standards, Lemurians would be considered mammals, or did you forget that with your brain in the fish bowl?” Rafayel teased, a sly smirk crossing his face.
“Okay that might be true, but the lower half where the babies would pop out of is fish based. Covered in scales. Mammals don’t have scales unless you’re referring to Pangolins.” You explained to him as simply as you could.
“A pangolin?” Rafayel asked, having no clue what those were.
“Scaly anteaters.” You explained.
Rafayel was silent for a moment, “...Did you look that up just to see if mammals could have scales to prove your theory?”
“Obviously…although now that I think about it, if the bottom half is that of a fish and the top half is a mammal, would you lay eggs, hatch them, and then produce milk to feed the baby?” You said, tapping your lower lip in question.
“I’m stopping you right there…why are you asking all these questions?” Rafayel said, trying to get back to what he was doing earlier.
“These are the questions that keep me up at night, and only you can answer them for me, Raf.” You admitted. You didn’t even want to think about the multiple times you had woken up in the dead of night and laid in bed, thinking about Lemurian eggs for literal hours. 
Rafayel smirked as he leaned over the counter, “Does this mean you’ve been having thoughts of me when you’re trying to sleep?”
“I’m not trying to incriminate myself, Raf.” You said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I’m just saying that the question about Lemurian eggs, amongst several other things, have been on my mind.”
“Other things?” Rafayel murmured just loud enough for you to hear it. He looked at you, curiosity but also hesitance crossing his features.
“Well ya, for instance I know that some aquatic creatures have two.” You said, holding up the number two with your fingers.
Rafayel sighed, looking almost pained as he wanted to clarify what you were asking, “Two of what.” He was hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“Dicks, penis, cocks, levers, fun handles, joysticks.” You said, listing off both the actual names as well as some euphemisms you knew.
Rafayel once again stopped what he was doing. You watched as he put the knife down next to him. You wanted to ask him why he was stopping since he had been so deadset that he’d prepare lunch this afternoon. You had been waiting ages for the salmon salad he was making.
“Really?” He asked, gesturing to the food in front of him, “Right in front of my salad?” 
You couldn’t help but stare directly into those beautiful eyes of his, “You didn’t answer any of the questions, Raf. What are you hiding?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t actually have to answer your questions.” He said, leaning over to where you were sitting at the bar counter.
You then decided to press your luck even more, “So if Lemurians supposedly cry pearls, is their cum like pearlescent or something else entirely?” You watched as Rafayel’s cheeks took on a rosy hue and you barked out a laugh, “Oh that reaction tells me everything! So it’s not like humans!”
Rafayel groaned, covering his face with his hands and shook his head, “Why do you want to know about Lemurian…cum…I hate that I even have to ask that.” Rafayel said as he gave you a disappointed glance.
“It’s just a question, now I have more.” You said as you stood up from your stool, “Do Lemurians ever enter heats or ruts? Would Ebb Day be considered one of those because that day you were kinda…” You thought back to Ebb Day. He had looked so damn good with his scales and the slight sheen of sweat. If only he wasn’t so damn delirious that day you might’ve made a move to pursue something more with him.
“I was kinda…?” Rafayel said before stopping himself, “Wait, hold it, bite your tongue, I don’t think I want to know what’s going through that head of yours. I think we’re done with questions for the day.”
You couldn’t help the pout that went on your face, but Rafayel was looking away from you, not daring to make eye contact right now. His cheeks and ears were flush as he picked up his knife and continued cutting up salmon..
You slowly stalked over to him until you were standing right behind Rafayel. He, of course, knew you were there as he scrapped the salmon on top of the lettuce and put the dangerous object into the sink. As soon as he was cleared of any knives that he could stab you with should he break due to your insanity, you tugged on his sleeve.
Rafayel, despite his pouting, let out a sigh. He then moved a bit away from the counter and you didn’t even realize what had happened until you found your back digging into the counter of the kitchen. Rafayel had quickly spun you around and pinned you, both arms locking you in place as he gripped onto the cool marble.
You caught the confident glint in his eyes as he pulled a full 180 from earlier. His cheeks, ears, and chest were still a bit flushed, but he seemed to be in control for the moment, “If you’re that curious, I could always give you a demonstration of Lemurian mating habits.” He finally said.
You were stunned into silence, your mouth hung open and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you looked at Rafayel. Then, after the shock wore off, your entire face lit up at the prospect.
“Wait really? Oh man, I need to grab my notebook. I have so many hypotheses on things that I can’t wait to try out!” You said, placing your hands on his chest, “When are we gonna do this? Now? Later? Now?”
It was Rafayel’s turn to be shocked at your enthusiasm. He was aiming to fluster you like you had done to him; he wasn’t expecting you to want to jump his bones right now. The only thing he could utter was “You have a journal…?”
You nod your head, your hand going over to his neck where you remembered those iridescent blue scales had been. You pressed down slightly at the area and you could feel Rafayel’s pulse jump. You licked your lips at the thought of seeing them again, as well as his tail that he swore up and down he didn’t have until one day he slipped up and admitted to it.
“Of course silly, how else am I gonna know the best ways to unravel you?” You said, your head tilting to the side as you smirked.
You watched as Rafayel managed to turn into a darker shade of red, his mouth opening and closing before his eyes narrowed, “If I had known you were like this, I would’ve been more cautious about letting you into my home.”
“Not only did you let me in, but you gave me a key so I can stop by whenever.” You teased him, “Hopefully I will catch you in a compromised setting one day.”
Rafayel groaned, his hands going to your hips, placing his head over your shoulder, “You’ll be the death of me…” He murmured out before taking a deep breath, “Were you serious though, about uh…”
“Only if your offer is on the table.” You said and Rafayel chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your neck.
“It was supposed to be a joke.” He teased, “But with how excited you got I feel it would be cruel to take the offer back now.”
“It would be so cruel.” You said, your arms going around his shoulders, “Although perhaps we should move things a bit…slower. We can discuss it over lunch?” You said and Rafayel nodded.
“That sounds good.” He said, not moving from his position as he nuzzled his face into your neck “But in a few minutes. I’m comfortable right now.”
Your hand found its way into his purple locks as you gently played with them, “Sounds good to me.”
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feralgirlfeelings · 1 month
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★ what kind of music each love & deepspace boy would listen to! ★
hcs of zayne, rafayel, and xavier's music taste ♫꒰・◡・๑꒱
pairing: lnds boys x reader
warnings: none
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zayne:
he listens to classical music 90% of the time. it's not because he particularly likes it, but he just got used it after listening to classical music to focus while studying 12 hours a day as a med student. now, in pavlovian fashion, he'll play it while performing surgeries to really get him in the zone. the other 10% is, surprisingly, cutesy kpop girl group songs. think "russian roulette" by red velvet, "magnetic" by illit, and "only" by leehi. he doesn't go out of his way to find these songs, but he'll hear them in passing and get one stuck in his head. he's one of those people that'll get hooked and listen to a song over and over again, especially while he's working out or when he needs an energy boost. he's embarrassed about it, so he'll try to hide it from you, only listening to music with his earbuds in. but there's been times where you catch him:
"zayne, i didn't know you were into red velvet," you stifle a giggle. you hold his phone up to him, the song "russian roulette" on the lock screen. he crosses his arms, ears turning pink, "what's so funny about that? ...it's catchy." "nothing! i just didn't expect that from you," you laugh. you hand him his phone back, "i can teach you the dance, i know it by heart," you tease. "hmm," he raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "i'd like to see that."
xavier:
he likes a few different genres of music, but he tends to like classic rock and alternative the most. some of his favourite songs are "little dark age" by mgmt, "eyes without a face" by billy idol, and "let it happen" by tame impala. he doesn't like to explore new music often and will usually just stick to what he already likes. he'll often blast music through his through his earbuds when he's fighting wanderers alone or when he's trying to stay awake. he's had a lot of time on earth, so his taste spans a lot of different music eras. there's been a few times when he's complained about how he "just doesn't get music nowadays." sometimes he'll show you a super old song and be surprised that you've never heard of it before:
xavier hands you an earbud, the other one in his ear. he shows you a song on his phone that you don't recognize. after a few seconds of listening, you shake your head, "i don't know this one." "really?" xavier looks at you shocked. "this song was huge in the 80s." you hand him back his earbud, "see that's why i don't know it, i'm not 40," you tease. "they just don't make music like this anymore," he sighs. you laugh, "xavier, that makes you sounds so old!' he smiles back at you, "i think those songs are just timeless."
rafayel:
he's into artsy stuff. he's one of those people who listens to a song or album multiples times to dissect and analyze every part of it, appreciating it as an art form. some of his favourite songs include "my love mine all mine" and "washing machine heart" by mitski, as well as "movement" by hozier. he plays music while working on paintings, because apparently, "listening to complex music helps with the artistic process." he also experiences sound-to-colour synesthesia, which explains why the music helps him paint. he has a really pretty singing voice and will often hum or sing his favourite songs, but will get shy when you ask him to sing for you. despite his usual pretentious music taste, he'll occasionally get hooked on some generic top 40s song, like something by drake.
rafayel had been humming the same song over and over again while working on a painting of you. you couldn't help but close your eyes and focus on the melody, "what song is that?" you ask. he pauses from humming, his concentration on his painting unwavering, "my love mine all mine by mitski." "it's nice, i've never heard of it before," you reply. "i'm not surprised, i have spectacular taste, you know," he boasts. you stare at him blankly, "wasn't your top song last year passionfruit?" holding back a laugh. his ears and cheeks turn bright red, "those are never accurate anyways."
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