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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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How would be a date with Love and Deepspace boys be like?

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The bright, warm sunlight of a summer day shines in the sky, while the smell of the salty ocean air fills the air. A picnic blanket is underneath the beach. Purple flowers were scattered across the blanket. Your favorite foods are all on the blanket, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Both of you are painting together on the beach.

You stare at Rafayel, and out of nowhere you have an idea, and then, taking the brush in your hand, you slowly paint red on Rafayel's nose. "Ha! Gotcha!” You laugh, smiling, seeing Rafayel staring at you in shock, not knowing what to say. Noticing the silence, you notice his ears turning red.

“Did you did that because you wanted to see my beauty with paint in my face, is it? You can stare at me my muse as much as you want." He takes your hand, bringing it close to his lips and kissing it. ”No one can compare to the work of art you are.”

Feeling your cheeks blush, you look away, sighing, "Should I remind you of the time we were on a boat then? That's truly a work of art!" All the affection that was on his face turned into a perplexed look as he blushed embarrassedly. “You wouldn't do that, right?”

"Hmm. What a shame I exactly painted that.” Hearing this, Rafayel tries to take the canvas from your hand, but you react before him taking the canvas fast in your hands, moving it, and starting to run away from him, laughing while he runs and catches you hugging you from behind. "Wait! Wait! I surrender! You won, just don't show it to anyone, okay?”

Showing the canvas to Rafayel, realizing that you painted the ocean and not him, he ends up sighing and stopping hugging you while his ears blush. "You're such a liar... As revenge I will tickle you!" He pushes you, falling on top of you on the picnic blanket, making tickles on you.

Your laughter fills the air. Suddenly, without warning, he leans and catches you off guard with a gentle kiss. A smile spreads across his face as he looks into your eyes and whispers, "I love you." You can't help but blush at his words. The sincerity in his voice and the tenderness of his touch make your heart swell with love. You find yourself gazing back into his eyes, unable to contain the feeling of adoration for this Rafayel. "I love you too." You smile as he leans in closer to you, your foreheads touching each other, he leans peppering all your face with kisses, eliciting giggles from you.

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

A pizza is on the table, as are a bottle and two glasses of coke, candles arranged in the shape of a heart, and flowers. You're both staring at the TV, ready to watch the movie.

“Is that on the TV screen a wanderer?" Xavier stares at the TV confused, and you can't stop yourself from laughing as he raises an eyebrow. “It's not that...?” Hearing his question, you slowly stop laughing but end up smiling.

“Xavier, this is a robot from the movie; it looks realistic, but it looks very interesting, right?” Xavier stares at the TV in silence and stares at you. "This movie is really interesting... A robot, huh?”

Xavier takes a piece of pizza and watches the movie in silence, and you do the same. As time passes, you hear a sound of crying, and looking at Xavier, you can see him crying. "Xavier, are you okay? What was it?" You decide to place your hand on his cheeks, wiping the tears from his face.

Xavier stares at you "The story is so sad... Why did the robot have to sacrifice himself? Even though he's a robot he has feelings, sorry it seems like I got carried away…” He puts his head on your shoulder while you pat his head.

He leans into the touch and looks at you. “Are you feeling better now?” He nods, and you pick up the remote control, pressing play as the movie continues now. You and Xavier discuss the movie as you watch, and he slowly places his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together as he stares at you, and then you feel your face turn a little red.

"I love you." You blink in surprise at the sudden confession, making you blush, and then you smile, "I love you too, Xavier." You kiss him on the cheek, and he chuckles embarrassed as he He slowly falls asleep with his head on your shoulder. As the night falls and the songbirds die out, It feels like there’s only us two in this world. Under the roof, just two of us become one, entangled together, loving each other, and before you know it, you're with your head on top of him as you both sleep.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

You have blue flowers by your side as you both eat at the restaurant, talking, but then Zayne stares at you, and only his eyebrows go a little. "Why aren't you touching the broccoli...? Don't you like broccoli?” You look at Zayne and then give a nervous smile. "Well, I don't like broccoli.” Before you could make an excuse, you felt him sighing, "Please eat, broccoli will do you good. They are good for your health.”

You see Zayne pick up a broccoli fork and place it in front of your mouth. "Let's just have a bite, okay? Please?" You feel yourself blushing with embarrassment at the act, and slowly opening your mouth, eating the broccoli makes you grimace.

Seeing this, Zayne decides to take some pasta on his fork and puts it in front of your mouth, and you slowly eat it, blushing. "That's a little embarrassing.” Hearing this, he glares at you and says, "Why would that be embarrassing? You don't like broccoli?”

You laugh "Well, it's true, but you suddenly started feeding me and taking care of me. I think it made me nervous. I wouldn't have imagined you would be that affectionate, Zayne.” Zayne looks away as his eyebrows furrow. "Do I really not look that affectionate?”

You nod, eating some pasta and smiling at Zayne. "You always seem serious; I would never imagine that about you, it's kind of cute. Now I hope it's my turn to make this for you." You wrap the pasta around your fork and slowly put it near his mouth, and Zayne looks at you a little surprised, and then he sighs.

You end up noticing that the carrots on Zayne's plate are untouched, and so you say, "Zayne, you haven't touched the carrot yet. Do you happen to not like carrots?" You smile seeing Zayne freeze, and then placing a piece of carrot on your fork, you place it in front of his mouth. "Come on, eat some hm?" Zayne stares at the carrot in silence and hesitantly eats it, frowning a little.

Slowly, he tilts his head and bites the pasta on his fork, letting you feed him again, and it's almost not noticeable. He blushes a little, but his cheeks return to normal easily. "So what does it taste like?" He leans back into the chair. "Good..." Hearing him whisper you smile at Zayne and say, "I love you." He looks at you, and for a moment, his lips curve upward, saying, "I love you too.” This is how your date with Zayne continues at the restaurant, and talking about various topics.

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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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the rafayel girlies are FEASTING upon the april update

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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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thinking about kissing rafayel's moles!!

like imagine sitting on his lap, hands cupping his face, kissing the mole on his right cheek, then kissing the one on his nose. he'd blush so hard as he holds your waist. you can practically feel him burning up from your kisses!

also, imagine if you kissed the one on his chest: your nose first coming into contact with his skin has him squirming, he tries to protest but nothing comes out of his mouth, just small sounds!

and then you kiss him there and he lets out an unexpected sound!

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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!bff!reader, sex toys mentioned but not used, noise control, dub con technically ( for him… kinda TRUST THE PROCESS ) prank gone wrong for reader lol, creampie, has absolutely no spoilers or deep lore, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. HAPPY 4/20! i was gonna do some dizzy drabbles but i couldn’t get this out of my head. not proofread ( and written when i was in the clouds ) so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

what had started out as a fun prank on your best friend for revenge ended with you completely at his mercy, unbeknownst to him.

picking up around the studio wasn’t something you did too often, considering it a breach of Rafayel’s privacy, but when you got there and he wasn’t home, you let yourself inside like you usually did. you were about an hour early, anyways. you hadn’t taken two steps when you stumble over a pile of crumpled sketch paper. you scrunched your brows as you gazed around your environment. scattered brushes, broken pencils, and a canvas half-painted in the middle of the floor. you sighed; perhaps Rafayel had hit a wall with his muse and had gone for a walk on the beach. the least you could do for him, you’d decided, was to clean up a bit. after all, a clean space is a productive space, right?

that was when you came across it, left carelessly on his bed, swaddled in a sea of white sheets and the comforter. you’d never seen one in real life until this moment, and at first you mistook it for a woman asleep in his bed with her butt sticking out of the blankets— but, it was fake. a plump, nearly life sized ass sitting atop the mattress.

does Rafayel really use something like this?

you found your cheeks heated up with embarrassment when you pictured him mounting it, both of his smooth palm against the cheeks, svelte digits digging into the silicone to spread it open wide enough for him to push inside…

shaking your head to snap yourself out of the fantasy, you look around, making sure no one was around to see you get lost in your own desire for him. “S—stupid.” you muttered to yourself, stepping closer to touch the fleshiest part of it. surprisingly soft, as soft as your own skin. your brow quirks, fingers sliding to the waistband of a pair of cerulean, lace panties that adorned the faux lower body. it seemed so strange to have clothes on something that was meant to stay hidden and used in private, as if the silicone slab had been laid out meticulously…

no, Rafayel didn’t use this for his own pleasure, you decided. this was a prank. an elaborate one, but one meant to fluster you when you came over.

he was such an ass!

“Oh yeah?” you challenge under your breath, grasping the panties and tugging them off of the toy, “You want to play games? I can play, too.” determined to outprank Rafayel, you toss the panties on the bed and stash the toy beneath the bed. it was surprisingly heavy, and made a splat when it hit the surface of the floor, you had to stifle a chuckle as just hilarious this was. you didn’t want him to win, even if he wasn’t there to see it. quickly unbuttoning your pants, you discard them and the panties you were wearing, kicking them under the bed, too. then, you grab the cerulean lace and pull them on— perfect fit! you took a moment to glance in a nearby mirror, turning slightly. your ass had a similar curve and complexion, and you hoped it was enough to fool him, at least long enough for you to scare him when he least expected it. then, you climb into the bed, scrupulous as you nest your top half under a pile of blankets, the pillows resting on the top of your shoulders to hide your head. there was also the issue with your legs. it took a great amount of wrapping sheets around your thighs as you kick and squirm, before you’re finally perfectly positioned— identical to the way he’d left the fake ass, your own sticks out as if inviting him, as you wait for him to return.

at first, it had been difficult to keep yourself from jittering, too excited to see the look on his face when you jump out, effectively one-upping his lewd joke. but, as the minutes ticked on, with your entire body hidden within his bedding, you’d started to sweat, breathing in the dense air trapped under the pillows with you, and you had to readjust several times. it took so long that you were just about to give up on the prank and unbury yourself, before you heard the door open.

showtime.

you felt knots of excitement tying themselves together in your belly as you willed yourself to be as still as possible, and appear as the lifeless, silicone toy.

you could hear him moving about the studio, sighing, and your heart was starting to beat faster in your ears— you hoped that he would hurry to his room, so you could reveal yourself soon, and you could get out from under this suffocating duvet.

when he’d stepped into the bedroom, you hear the door close behind him, and you have to physically keep yourself from kicking your feet in excitement. it was almost time to scare the living daylights out of your best friend. your muscles tighten, ready to jump up, but a sound abruptly stops you.

a zipper.

you freeze, listening silently to the sound of rusting fabric. soft thuds as he kicked out of his shoes, and a whoosh that follows towards the floor.

was he undressing?

your eyes widen only when you hear a heavy breath, followed by the click of a cap. squeezing, then a low moan coming from behind you. it was Rafayel. your eyes widen. you’d never heard such a sound from his mouth, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. the subtle skin slapping that started slow, but sped up shortly after, his breath getting heavier simultaneously. you realized how wrong it was to hear Rafayel pleasuring himself, especially when he didn’t know that you were there. you should really say something, open your mouth and let him know that he wasn’t alone, but when your lips parted, you couldn’t force any sound from it. you were too stunned by these sounds to give him any kind of warning. you listen, mouth agape and eyes big, staring into the headboard of his bed as he takes a few steps towards the foot of it. your mind races, realizing that he had not placed the toy on his bed for you to find it—

this had not been a toilet-humor prank that he was putting together. he simply hadn’t had the time to hide his private toys before you stumbled upon them.

to solidify this revelation, you feel one hand tracing over the shape of your ass. his fingers were warm and slick, and you nearly gasped, sealing your lips just in time for his digits to curl around the panties and tug on them, inching down your thighs. he would definitely discover you were disguising yourself as the toy when he couldn’t take them all the way off, and that thought was equally humiliating and comforting. you didn’t exactly love the idea of him finding out now, after exposing your cunt to him, and now that you’d gotten an earful of him jerking off, but at least things wouldn’t go further. Rafayel doesn’t, however, try to pull the panties down completely. instead, he seems content to leave them around your thighs, and his fingers trace upwards, slowly and skillfully, until they trace your netherlips, slathering your sex in what had to be lube, cool and wet.

oh, god. your top teeth sink into your lower lip as his fingertips swipe full laps between your folds. the pads rub against your most sensitive nub, leaving it throbbing and begging for more attention before they drag downwards, teasing your opening. he didn’t seem to notice that your cunt spasms, attempting to clamp down on his fingers, before they run another lap. he lets out a heavy breath, the sound of his palm smacking against his abdomen as he fucks his own hand in tandem to the way he was unknowingly teasing your pussy making your head spin.

this was so wrong.

you had to tell him right now.

your tiers part once more, this time determined to stop this before—

the swollen, slippery head of Rafayel’s cock rubs against your slit. one hand covers your mouth to keep any sound, words or otherwise, from escaping as you realize that it’s too late to expose yourself now. you’d look like a total creep, taking advantage of your best friend by pretending to be his sex toy. “Huh—uhh…” Rafayel emitted a low moan as he rubbed his dick against you a few more times, before planting one palm on your ass, the other holding tight to his base as he plunged inside.

it took all you had within you to not let out a cry of surprise at the sudden entry. your free hand grips the sheet so tightly you fear your nails will rip holes in it, and your toes curl beneath the mattress. Rafayel had been under the impression that he could be as rough as he wanted, because the pussy was nothing but a silicone replica, and so his rhythm was steady, deep pumping almost immediately upon bottoming out in your guts. “Fuck,” he breathes out, hips thumping against your ass, both hands grasping at it. “F—feels good… yeah,”

he was right about that, and you wished you could vocalize it. your walls fluttered about in delight as he pounded into you, his cock was longer than you’d thought it would be, the tip bold in its deep exploration, prodding against your g-spot with every, full thrust of his hips. you fought the urge to bounce back, meet his movements with equally eager grinding. instead, your eyes began to roll and your lids flittered, and the grip on your own mouth tightened to keep any of your stifled mewls and whimpers from escaping. you couldn’t, however, keep from gushing when he hit the perfect depth with his fervent stroking, and you could only hope that his thorough drenching you in lubrication would be enough to mask this.

you could hear him panting, moaning, swearing, as he fucked you with reckless abandon. his fingers digging into your warm, satin skin, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you. it was as if you felt every, single vein as they rub your walls, autographing your insides, claiming them as his as he uses you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…!”

he was getting louder, his hips bucking more powerfully, more erratically, and the throbbing in your core was a testament to just how close to cumming he was.

you knew how wrong this was, but all rational thinking was dissipating; you were enjoying being fucked like this; greedy, careless pounding, by your closest friend too much to ruin it, now. you didn’t want to stop it, not until he was fully satiated.

“F—fuck, yeah,” Rafayel swoons, grabbing full fists of your ass, pulling your ass back to meet his hungry hip-snapping, “more, more, more!”

you couldn’t take much more, and you push your face into the mattress to keep quiet, both hands scrambling to hold on to something, squeezing the edge of the mattress with your nails sinking in— anything to relieve the pressure he was forcing as deep into you as he could. your feet wanted to kick, your back wanted to arch, and you wanted to scream out in pure pleasure, so you clung to the bed as tightly as you could in hopes that you could ride out the orgasm he was ripping from you.

he didn’t even seem to notice your twitching and subtle squirming beneath the blankets as he made you drop off and come undone, which you were thankful for, because he was too caught up in chasing his own high. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” Rafayel was sputtering, desperately trying to get there, pressing all of his weight against your ass as he pumps a few more, deep and hard, thrusts into you before he grunts, and releases. as if he’d been pent up for quite a while, you felt a spattering of warmth, and then it spreads as he fills your belly with his essence. you nearly lose it in this moment, and almost blow your cover, your walls clamping down on his cock as he starts to retract. it felt so good to be full of Rafayel that you didn’t want him to pull out, but he does so with a ragged moan. there’s an uncomfortable emptiness that follows his abandoning of your cunt, the feeling of being fucked deep and left there, your oblivious best friend’s cum dribbling out of your used pussy as it twitches and your muscles stay tense. you knew you were leaving a small puddle on his sheets below you, but you could hear him milling around the room instead of focusing on you, now.

“Damn,” he mutters to himself, and you his phone unlock, then the rapid-fire tapping of his fingers on the keys. was he… texting?

you were answered when you heard the faint vibrating of your phone in your pants pocket, hidden under the bed. he texted you?! at first, you think he must’ve heard it, because everything went silent, and you waited for him to start shouting, but he doesn’t.

a few moments later, the door opens, and his footsteps fade as he swaggers down the corridor, satiated, and a moment later, you hear the shower turn on.

for the first time in several minutes, your muscles relax for a moment, before you swim out from your heated prison in a hurry, scrambling under the bed to grab your phone. every move you made, you could feel his release swirling around inside you and dribbling down your thighs, and you groan at the sensation, and the trail you made before you pulled the panties up to keep any more from leaving evidence. staring at the screen, panting and fucked out, your eyes barely focusing, you read the message in disbelief.

just woke up so i’m running late. stop on the way and buy lunch or something i’m starving

liar.

but you didn’t have time to dwell on the message; you get dressed as quickly as you can, what with your legs trembling like shaken jelly and your insides sore from Rafayel’s eager plowing, and hoist the fake butt back into place on top of the bed. you had to make a stealthy exit before he got out of the shower. stuffing your own panties into your pocket, you decide the best way to avoid an even stickier mess on his floor that would certainly be noticeable, you had to wear the panties meant for the doll. you could only pray he didn’t realize they’d gone missing right away, and later today when you could sneak away to the bathroom, you’d put them back in place.

so, stumbling and trying to catch your breath, freshly fucked, you leave through the sliding back door, the one that faces the shoreside, and closes it behind you to complete your escape.

once outside, you exhale deeply, lean against his car, hidden from windows’ views, to evaluate the damage, beyond the mess of him in your panties. you groan, covering your face with both hands in belated guilt.

you could never, ever tell him about this!

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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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FIERY UNDERCURRENTS (pt.1?) — RAFAYEL

✧. ┊rafayel x reader ;; 4.2k+

✧. ┊warnings: 18+, minors (ages 17 and under) and ageless blogs do not (like, rb, follow, etc.) or you WILL be BLOCKED! afab + gn reader, physical descriptions matching the memory (skin that blushes/turns red, having bangs, hair long enough to brush and dry, etc.), suggestive and sexual tension but no actual smut (yet), basically a transcription of fiery undercurrents :)

✧. ┊a/n: if this does well and people want it then i will do a part 2 with the smut >:) ty aali and eden for betaing <33

To say your day started out as an utter disaster was an understatement. The start of a series of unfortunate events being sleeping through your alarm. One small accident set the tone for the rest of your grueling day, making it all go downhill from there. It was one thing after another all day long. Little instances that crept under your skin, digging deeper with each additional inconvenience as the hours passed. The icing on the cake? A sudden downpour of rain in the middle of your walk home.

Despite your best efforts, your clothing was drenched by the time you were able to take cover in the nearest café. You remember the way the rain on your skin sent a shiver down your spine when the cold air of the cafe hit you, only fueled by the way your sodden clothes clung to you uncomfortably. You had no choice but to either remain in the shelter of the cafe, albeit freezing with nowhere to sit unless you wanted to drench the furniture, or continue on your way home.

And you would have made a run for it, too. More than willing to brave the weather if it meant you could get home sooner rather than later and finally be done with this miserable day.

But, a familiar voice stopped you.

It was Rafayel who had come to your rescue. Without him, you would have trekked through the rain and the dark all the way back to your apartment. And though at the time you were willing to do so, you’re rather glad you didn’t need to.

It seemed like a small miracle when Rafayel appeared before you in the cafe. After the day you had, seeing someone familiar, especially him, was more than welcome.

He insisted on driving you home and following you inside your apartment, telling you all about how dangerous a floor can be when it gets slippery from the rain. And he wouldn’t dare risk your safety like that. Especially after hearing about your long day on the drive over from the cafe. You couldn’t take anymore tragedy!

Not that you minded, of course …

An hour later, you were freshly showered and changed into your pajamas for the night. You were just short of finishing drying off your hair with your towel when a knock sounded from the other side of your bathroom door. You tell Rafayel he can open it.

“Are you done showering?” He asks, pushing the door open. He leans against the door frame, shoving his hands in his pockets as he studies you. His eyes finally land on the side of your face after giving you a once over. “Your hair’s still wet.”

You look away from the fogged mirror to catch his gaze, dramatizing your movements to put emphasis on the towel currently scrunching your hair. “It’s still drying, dummy.” You smile.

“You already got wet in the rain, and now you’re not drying your hair properly.” he tsks, kicking off from the door frame and entering your bathroom. “You know, you’re asking to get sick.” He takes the towel from your hands despite your protests. “I guess I’ll be the one to take care of you.”

You give him an incredulous look despite the slight heat rising to your cheeks from his uncharacteristic words and softer tone. “And how are you gonna do that?” You tease.

“Here,” He pats the empty space on your bathroom counter, motioning for you to take a seat, “Let me dry your hair.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. You’re no stranger to Rafayel’s softer, more gentle moments … but it still catches you off guard every time it happens. He’s so different like this compared to his usual charismatic, if not bratty and pouty, self. He almost leaves you awestruck. Not that you didn’t love him like that, too. This … is just unexpected and not something you see every day.

You nod your head, unable to form any words as you do what he says.

He steps between your legs, unintentionally nudging them slightly wider to accommodate where he now stands. His eyes remain on yours despite your gaze averting from his once he steps in front of you, outstretching his hands to begin drying your hair with the towel in sections.

“If I hadn’t been in the cafe, were you planning to run all the way home like this?”

His words draw your eyes back to him, and luckily, his own are fixed on where he’s drying the first section of your hair.

“Maybe …”

A subtle smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. Your eyes dart down at the motion before you snap your gaze away from him once again.

“Thankfully, I ran into you …” he says, creating another section of your hair and starting to dry that part. “You might not be so lucky next time.”

You remain quiet as he moves on to yet another section of your hair, moving the tiniest bit closer in order to reach the hair that’s further behind you. You let your eyes close, both terrified of looking up to see how much closer his face has gotten to you, and frankly, enjoying the feeling of him brushing your hair for you.

“Did you change your shampoo?” he asks, voice somehow softer than before in the quiet of your bathroom. “This fragrance … smells like a meadow blooming with daisies on a spring afternoon.”

You giggle softly at his prose of your new shampoo scent. Of course he could make something so ordinarily mundane sound more than exquisite. “If you like it so much, I’ll get some for you next time I’m at the store.”

He’s quiet for a heartbeat, then in that same soft, low voice, he says, “Let me smell it again.”

There’s a fraction of a moment where you wonder why you can hear the sound of his inhale so vividly before your body goes rigid and your eyes snap open as his hot breath fans across your ear. You suck in a breath, unconsciously pulling away from him slightly as your head reels at his proximity and the heat radiating from him that transfers to you, crawling at an achingly slow pace up your neck.

“... Did my breath tickle your ear?” His voice is almost a whisper now as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. You do your best to school your expression back to one of nonchalance despite the growing hammering of your heart in your chest. Despite your efforts, he seems to pick up on the way you lean away from him and the sudden change in your posture. “Am I too close?”

Even with him no longer being next to your ear, and it being more faint, you can still hear and feel his breath as it now mixes with yours. You slowly inhale, trying to quell the heat rising inside of you. Your voice is just barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

“Then … I’ll back up a bit.” Your eyes remain locked on him, entranced despite the feeling creeping up inside you to look away. “How about now?” he asks once he’s backed up some, but not far enough back to how he was standing previously.

You shake your head, willing every part of you to keep your eyes on his and away from where they seek to look, watching his parted lips as you still listen to the faint rise and fall of his breath.

His eyes narrow slightly and that subtle smirk returns to his lips. His voice is full of amusement. “Am I still too close?” Before you get the chance to answer, he switches his stance to be leaning in on the other side of your head from where he originally smelled your hair. And inadvertently moved a fraction back closer to you. “What about from this side? Am I still too close?”

You don’t even dignify him with an answer, not that you trust yourself to vocally respond to him now anyway, not with the way your body and face feel like they’re going to catch fire any minute now. You simply turn your head the other direction as a way to get back at his teasing and to hide your flustered state.

A finger gently hooks under your chin, turning your head back around until you’re face to face once again. “You’re being pretty shy.” He strokes your chin with his thumb, eyes following the movement before returning to your gaze. “I think this distance is perfect.”

The feeling of his thumb brushing over your chin and trailing to your jaw is too much for you. You fight off a shiver as you make to pull away from his grip but before you can get too far he lets go of your chin. “Hey, I’m not done.” he murmurs sternly, “ Don’t move.”

Thankfully, that is the last of the teasing while he finishes drying your hair. The silence and time it takes for him to finish is enough to help reduce your flustered state and the subtle tension in the room. Yet, neither fully disappears.

He puts the towel aside as he speaks. “Are we good now? Let me check.”

He starts feeling your still damp, but no longer soaked, hair with his hands, running some strands through his fingers. The action is enough for that quelled heat inside of you to begin sparking back to life. You put a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him back so you can hop off the counter. “I think it’s dry now, Raf.”

His free hand comes to cover yours, keeping your palm pressed against his chest as he continues inspecting your hair, not budging from his spot. “Who says it’s dry?” His hand untangles from your hair and moves to brush back a portion of your bangs. “Look, your bangs…” Admittedly, your bangs still stick slightly to your forehead, not that you really care if they do or not. His hand trails to your ears that are still wet from the damp hair draped over them. He skims his fingertips over the shell of your ear, making your breath hitch. “Your ears…” His fingers run through your hair once again, his eyes drifting down to the skin of your neck that is now exposed from his movements. His eyes lock back on yours. “Are all wet.”

You nearly choke at his words. At any other time you would not bat an eye at what he said. But now, with him so close and his eyes fixated solely on you, and the heat radiating off him, fueling your own…your mind begins to wander.

His words snap you out of your thoughts. “Want me to help you blow-dry your hair?”

Your eyes come into focus. “Uh … sure.”

You turn your head, ready to point to which cabinet you keep your blow-dryer in when Rafayel leans forward and begins to softly blow on your hair. The action makes you giggle albeit the lingering tension in your body. “Really?”

Some of his usual goofiness shines through, even through his softer attitude. “I never said I’d use a blow dryer.” He smiles cheekily.

You roll your eyes and point to the cabinet with the hair-dryer as a wave of fondness settles in your chest, dulling but also mixing in with the warmth spread throughout your body. You turn your head to come nearly cheek to cheek with him, feeling less nervous than before but still equally as flustered. You swallow, forcing yourself to stay in this close proximity to him and take in his scent, much like he did to you earlier.

“Is this how you’re gonna get your revenge?” he asks, voice once again becoming but a mere whisper. “By breathing on my neck?” You smile and move even closer, purposely fanning your breath on the side of his neck and ear. “Returning the favor, huh? Then…” He brushes your hair aside, leaving your throat and the side of your neck exposed to him. Your breath hitches the moment you feel his snake across your skin, sending a shiver and liquid heat down your spine.

“Rafayel,” you say, hoping it comes out like the warning you force it to be instead of the soft plea you almost let out.

He lingers for a few seconds, but he eventually pulls his head back with a soft, amused grin. “All right all right, I’ll stop teasing you.” He steps back from the counter and between your legs, letting cold air come between you. You inwardly grimace at the feeling. “Stay right there,” he taps your knee, “I’ll get a blow-dryer.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you watch him fish out your old blow-dryer from under your bathroom sink. He plugs it in and steps back between your legs as he turns the blow-dryer on. Using one hand to separate any tangles, the other begins to dry your hair one section at a time.

“How is it?” he asks after a minute. You see a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips and instantly understand.

“Better.”

“It’s better?” His gaze lands on your own, eyes slightly narrowed but his smirk still remains. “Are you serious? This little thing is better than me?” You bite your lip to keep from giggling– and to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay– and nod your head. “Do you want me to try again?” His voice once again drops to a whisper as he leans in close to you. He points the hair dryer away as he blows on the hair right above your ear, hitting some of your flushed and sensitive skin in the process. The same heat from before rises to the surface, warming your skin. Your hands grip the edge of the counter. “How come your ears are red? Do you have a fever?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you huff, mostly in deflection to avoid thinking about how close he is yet again.

“Let me feel your forehead.” He brushes your bangs aside before pressing the back of his

hand against your forehead. You look up at him, your gaze lingering on his lips when your gaze travels up his face. You watch as he stands there, thinking quietly to himself. He eventually pulls his hand away. “I can’t tell with my hand.” He shakes his head, giving you a small, faux frown. “Guess I have to use my forehead.”

His hands land on either side of yours as he leans in, gently resting his forehead against yours. The familiar sound of his breath plays in the air and you grip the counter harder.

“Hmm..” he hums, forehead still pressed against yours. He takes a breath. “The temperature seems normal.” he says as he pulls his head back to take you in properly again. His hands remain where they are, allowing him to casually lean toward you in his stance. His eyes scan your face. “ But your cheeks are a bright scarlet.”

One of your hands releases its grip from the counter's edge, accidentally brushing the side of his as you reach up to feel the warmth of your cheeks.

You see his gaze land on the side of your head. “Your ears are even more red.” One of his hands comes to brush against the shell of your ear, soft and delicate. “You’re hot enough to be an electric heater. It must be nice to hold you when it’s cold outside.”

His words make you flush even further. The hand that was cupping your cheek swats his away from you. But his opposite hand reaches for your other ear. “Funny.”

He ignores your words, still focused on you and the heat you emit. “My hands are warm after touching your ears.” he says, finally ceasing his touch on your ears.

Your eyes narrow as your heart thrums in your chest, pumping more blood and heat all over your body. Your hand grips the counter ledge impossibly harder. “It’s your fault.” You manage to speak.

“It’s my fault?” You give him a curt nod. “What did I do?”

You keep your eyes narrowed as you stare at him, knowing that some deep and fragile part of you will crack wide open if you feel the touch of his bare skin even one more time. “You know.”

His head tilts to the side. “Now you’re glaring at me…” You expect him to pout, especially with the way his voice softens. But his expression stays the same, leaving only his eyes to reveal the unfamiliar glint in them. A glint that matches the warm feeling sitting low in your chest. “If you keep looking at me like that,” he leans in, hovering his face a few mere centimeters from your own, “I won’t show you any mercy.”

You swallow. Your voice nearly trembles. “What are you going to do?” You attempt to challenge, but the hardness of your expression begins to fade away with each passing second.

“What am I going to do?” he whispers, tasting your words on his tongue. He makes them sound sickeningly sweet, yet voracious. “Close your eyes.”

You hesitate, scanning both of his eyes for any hint of what he could be planning. But you find nothing. You swallow and let your eyelids slowly fall shut. With your lack of vision, now every one of your senses seems to be heightened by tenfold. From the heat warming your neck and cheeks, to the sound of his breath growing louder as he inches closer to you, everything is so much. Yet, not enough. Your fingers itch to reach for him despite your body staying locked in your rigid position, waiting.

One of his hands gently cups your cheek. You fight against leaning into it. “You’re so nervous…” he whispers. His other hand brushes against your hair. “There’s some fluff in your hair. Probably from the towel.” You feel his breath hit your cheek as he leans closer to you, inspecting the piece of fluff. He picks at it. “I’ll take it off for you.”

His thumb grazes over your cheek and jaw. Even that slight touch is enough to have you dangerously keening for more. It takes everything in you to pull away from his touch. “Raf …” you sigh, nearly opening your eyes.

“Why are you upset?” His hand finds its way back to the side of your face, cradling your jaw so you won’t slip away so easily again.

The hold he has on you eases something in you. You let out a shaky breath. “What are you doing?”

There’s a thick silence hanging in the air for a few moments. The only sounds heard being that of your shared breathing. “I’m not someone who takes advantage of others…” he says, pressing closer to you. You feel his front press softly against your torso, your chest. The tip of his nose brushes against yours and his breath mixes with yours. “But there are times when … I can’t help myself.”

Soft, warm lips press against yours. His free hand moves to cradle your neck, keeping you in place for him. You’re just about to lean into the kiss when he pulls away all too soon.

Your eyes open, blinking as you take in the sight of him so close. Your eyes drop down to his lips, already missing their warmth. Your own feel so cold in contrast to the heat scorching your cheeks and neck.

“Your face is so red now.” His thumb runs over your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“It’s your fault.”

“Mmm, it is my fault this time. I agree.” His thumb sweeps downward, coming to rest against your bottom lip. His gaze follows the movement. “How can I make it up to you?” His eyes darken slightly as he runs the pad of his thumb across your lips. He starts to lean in, slowly, intentionally.

“Why don’t I …” His thumb gives way just enough to fit his lips. Your eyes flutter shut when his mouth slots against yours, meeting in a kiss. “...Make it up to you like this, yeah?” His breath tickles your lips as he whispers against them, before leaning back in once again.

His lips mold perfectly to yours. You finally allow your hands to leave their spots on the counters edge in favor of touching him. Your fingers thread through his hair as his body pushes against yours, just enough so his front is pressed against yours. The heat from his body and kiss snakes around you, easing your muscles and stilling your thoughts, except for those about the feel of his lips against yours, before slithering down your spine and pooling in your core.

The kiss is lazy and warm, and everything you didn’t know you needed. His tongue poking at your bottom lip draws a gasp from you. Or maybe it was a moan. You’re not quite sure, but either way you happily accept his silent request and part your lips for him. A shiver threatens to run down your spine when his tongue delicately slips into your mouth, just past your lips. Then again, deeper. His tongue barely brushes yours; a tease.

He pulls away.

The hands in his hair don’t let him get too far away–not that he’d want to be. Your eyes open to see him already looking at you. His pupils are slightly dilated and eyelids droopy. You’re sure you don’t look much different.

His gaze now rests upon you, scanning every inch of your face. You have half the mind to try and mask your expression, surely revealing the burning desire for him that’s finally coaxed to the surface, laid bare for him to see. His thumb resuming its place on your bottom lip makes that fragment of thought vanish, leaving behind that ceaseless craving.

Head cocking to the side, he watches you become pliant in his hands. You don’t move aside from parting your lips when his thumb presses down on the fat of your lip, opening your mouth just wide enough to slip past its barrier. The moment your tongue darts out to meet his thumb, it hooks over your teeth, pulling you back up to his face. “If that’s not enough …” His mouth replaces his thumb, immediately slipping his tongue between your parted lips.

A moan breaks free from the depths of your throat when his tongue meets yours. It’s instantly swallowed by his hungry mouth, pulling back just enough to meet yours again and again.

One of his hands wraps around you, splaying his palm against the small of your back and pulling every part of you flush against him. Your arms drape over his shoulders, surrendering yourself to his grip on you, keeping you exactly where you both wish to be.

Even when his lips part from yours, he keeps you in place. You can feel the push and pull of your chests as you catch your breath, desperately trying to calm the wild beating of your heart. His forehead rests against your own. “How about now?” he asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You can’t answer him. Not like this.

Your hands move to grip his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you and keeping him within reach as if he’d ever dream of pulling away. You tilt your head up, ghosting your lips over his, hinting.

The corner of his lips curls up ever so slightly. “Are you tired? Do you want me to stop?” Even though you know it’s meant to be a tease, letting you know he’s acutely aware of your current state, you also know it’s his own way of checking in on you. It makes your heart melt as much as it pushes all your buttons that it was intended to.

“Yeah, Raf. I want you to stop.” you tease back, clearly lying through your teeth. Even the slight tremble of your voice juxtaposes your words. One of your hands traces over his collarbone.

His smirk grows, matching the teasing behind your words by tenfold. “But look, your hair …” His head leans back enough to look between your eyes and the strand of hair he just tucked away behind your ear. “It’s still wet.” You swallow. “You can’t sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

“Otherwise, you’ll get a headache the next day.” He shakes his head, giving you a faux frown. “It won’t be a pleasant experience.” His hand drops down and rests on your knee, inching ever so slightly further up your thigh. You absentmindedly hum in response, no longer able to pretend to care about whatever excuse is coming out of his mouth. You both know where this is going anyway and you don’t have it in you to wait much longer. Not with him so close and looking at you like that.

“That’s why,” He brings his lips back in front of yours, barely grazing them, “before your hair completely dries …” Before his lips finally connect to yours once again, he says, “I won’t let you sleep.”

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hawksdeluxe · 8 days

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Day 9 to 13.

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hawksdeluxe · 10 days

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Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

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