#i really need to stop using such a big canvas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starsforxavi · 3 months ago

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the only exception

·······•✦ description: Being called over in the middle of the night by your friend Rafayel wasn't an unusual occurrence. It was unusual, however, when he asked you to be his model for a painting, letting you use his wardrobe to dress up for him, especially considering he never painted people. He insisted, though, and who were you to say no to his pleading gaze? But something was off about him; he wasn't acting like himself...

·······•✦ pairing: virgin!rafayel x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 9.6k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Virgin!Rafayel, Light Angst, It's very subtle angst, Slight Lore and Spoilers for Rafayel's story, Yearning, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Body Worship, big dick, First Time, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Rafayel calls you 'princess', Soft sex, Nostalgia, stealing clothes, getting caught, Creampie, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cockwarming, Reader-Insert, Inexperienced Rafayel, Loss of Virginity

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

The loud doorbell rang through the night sky, echoing through the tall trees and across the city skyline. The drive up to Rafayel’s house was quiet and secluded; you couldn’t help but wonder how lonely it got. So far away from the rest of the city, sitting right on the water and overlooking the vast ocean. At times, he assured you that he liked the privacy, and his connection to the water and nature generally spurred his artistic inspirations. Other times, he had a far-off look in his eye, saying that while it did get lonely, he felt better when you came to visit him.

Waking up to your phone ringing and Rafayel’s voice insisting that he needed his bodyguard over to his house immediately wasn’t what you expected of a Friday night. Still, it was Rafayel, and you couldn’t really say no. His insistent and whiny voice made your heart clench, your buried feelings for him doing nothing but forcing you to oblige to his asks.

It was a moment of you standing outside in the cold, pajama pants and baggy shirt doing little to help shield you from the biting wind. After the second ring of the doorbell, you heard footsteps through his house, and eventually, the door opened to reveal a disheveled Rafayel. Your breath stopped momentarily as you took in his messy hair and flushed cheeks. In one hand, he held a paintbrush covered in multiple mixes of colors. The other hand grabbed your wrist, gently ushering you inside.

“Wow, that was quick, miss bodyguard.” His voice came out in a huff, and Rafayel had to stop himself from staring at your lips. It happened every time you were near him, his eyes wandering across your body but constantly fixating on your lips…. Or your neck… Or your hands… He snapped out of it, sending a smirk your way as he started walking back towards the large living room. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

“Oh please,” You rolled your eyes, laughter echoing through the room. “Wasn’t it you who texted me four times asking me to come over and ‘protect you from the wind’?”

The only pieces of furniture were a small white couch and a coffee table. One of the walls was made of windows and clear glass leading to the vast ocean at the end of the small strip of sand. Trees swayed as the wind whipped outside, light rain staining the windows. Darkness stretched out over the ocean, the only light being from the moon. It streaked across the water, piercing deep and greeting the ecosystems that thrived.

“It’s getting crazy out there!” Rafayel’s cheeks blushed pink, his arms crossing. He gestured outside, trying to come up with a better excuse. “Plus, I just wanted you to keep me company as I paint.”

As you looked around, you took notice of the easel and canvas. Paint splashed across the corners, colors blending into beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Fireworks of golden yellow and dark blue contrasted and made a painting that caused your heart to race. It wasn’t often that art would elicit such a reaction from you, but Rafayel’s art always seemed to do something to you. It stole the breath from your lungs and made your heart pause in astonishment.

“That’s beautiful, Raf.” As you stared at the canvas, you didn’t notice how Rafayel’s ears turned bright red. His gaze fixated on you as you walked forward. Masterfully placed blank spaces broke up the colors, and you weren’t sure why, but a sense of nostalgia washed over you.

“Thanks, it’s supposed to be a little alcove in the middle of the ocean, secluded from everyone.” When he explains, you can almost feel yourself sitting on the small patch of sand in the middle of nowhere. The sunset in the distance of the painting felt so real as if you’d reached your hand out for it before.

“It looks so realistic.” You wanted to reach out and touch it, the sand falling between your fingertips like sand in an hourglass. The moon's light came through the windows, casting a bright light on the art. Looking back at Rafayel, you smiled at him, your heart beating faster when you noticed he was already looking at you. “No wonder you’re the world's most famous artist.”

A light blush covered his cheeks as he listened to your praise. He was used to people waxing poetic about his art, calling it ‘timeless’ and ‘alive.’ Nothing was like hearing the words from your lips, though. His eyebrows raised as he walked forward, setting his paintbrush down on the color palette.

“That’s high praise coming from you, miss bodyguard.” As he stepped closer, your eyes drifted to the ocean. Somewhere in the distance, it felt like that little alcove was waiting. It beckoned you to it like a long-lost treasure. You rolled your eyes gently, shaking your head.

He always seemed to favor you over others under the guise of needing his bodyguard, but no matter how often he called you, you would always come to his aid. Every time you saw him, it seemed your heart called out to him. It was a strange feeling, only made more complicated by your growing crush on the painter.

“I don’t know why my words are more special than everyone else's that compliment your art.” Rafayel felt his stomach clench. He remembered the times spent in that alcove, the past rushing back to him in waves when he finished one of his paintings.

Rafayel shrugged, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re always one of the first to see my finished and unfinished art.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t let just anyone see my art before I’m ready.”

You’re special to me . His thoughts passed through his head as he took in your expression. Shadows stretched across the walls from his lamp, your body outlined against his large mural wall. It was like you were a part of the scene, and Rafayel had to snap himself out of his stupor.

“I’m honored.” You laughed, your voice spreading through the room. “But it looks like you’re finished with this one. Were you just going to paint the night away?”

Sitting down on his stool, you crossed your arms over your chest, a cold breeze coming from one of the open windows. There was a silence in the air that was only interrupted by the soft knock of branches on the wall and the crashing of the waves on the beach. Your eyes met, his body swaying as he followed the ebb and flow of the ocean.

“I thought about it.” He backed up just a step, head tilting as he took your position on his stool. You looked stunning , and although he usually didn’t paint people, you were an exception. You were the only exception. “But seeing you right now, I want you to be my model.”

You were slightly taken aback by the suggestion, shying away from his eyes as he trailed them down your body. He never did that, never looked at you like you were an ancient statue that was worshipped for millennia. At least you never caught him looking at you like that.

“I don’t think I’m a very good model. I can barely sit still.” You didn’t think about the fact that Rafayel’s eyes would be fixated on you, every inch of you, as he painted. The salty air wafted in from the ocean, and you shivered at the cold once more.

“I think you’ll be a perfect model.” He turned to look at his room, an idea washing over him. “In fact, I think you should dress up.” Rafayel began walking towards his room, beckoning you to follow him.

Once you stepped inside, you took in just how spacious his room was. One of the walls was all windows, his bed in the middle of the room facing the ocean. Bookcases and supplies littered the other walls, and a door sat in the corner. You had been in Rafayel’s room before, but with the moon casting pure light over almost everything, it was like you were in another world.

Rafayel clearing his throat brought you back to reality, and you looked around, finding him standing in front of the door. He wore a mischievous smirk as he turned the handle, revealing rows and rows of clothes. In a grandeur swing of his arms, he looked back at you.

“You have free reign.” He announced, watching you walk up and peer in. The way your jaw slightly dropped as you took in all the beautiful outfits. Some were made for women, some for men, and others to fit anybody. “Pick whatever you want and become my model, please.” The last syllable drew slowly from his lips, his eyes begging you to do this for him.

Just like most things, you were too caught up in his eyes, finding yourself nodding in reluctance. “Okay, fine.” When you walked in, you were overwhelmed by colors and patterns, so you turned back to Rafayel. “Give me a second to choose; there are so many options.”

“Take all the time you need, miss bodyguard.” He stepped out, his shoes clicking on the tile floor as he made his way to the living room. You could hear rustling as he began cleaning up something, probably getting a new canvas and preparing the area.

Taking a deep breath, you perused the clothes, finding almost anything you could think of, from warm coats with gold accents to tight-fitting dresses with streaks of blue and purple. Nothing jumped out at you as you looked through almost all the racks.

It wasn’t until you reached the last little corner that you saw a beautiful pair of sandals like the ancient gods would wear. They looked like they tied together just below your knee, the strings made of an iridescent blue. Right above it hung a gown, long and flowing. If it weren’t adorned with matching iridescent hues, you would think it was a nightgown. It was pure white, a beautiful shining blue string wrapped around the waist and collar. You were drawn to it, your hand instantly shooting out and pulling it from the hanger.

You wondered if anyone else had worn this or if Rafayel had invited anyone else to do this exact thing. A hint of jealousy appeared before you shook it away; he wasn’t yours . Immediately, you started undressing, folding your clothes, and preparing to set them on his bed. When you finished the last knot on the sandals, you walked out, setting your clothes on Rafayel’s bed.

Peeking into the living room, you see Rafayel standing at the clear wall, looking out over the ocean. His solemn expression is reflected in him, and you can see his eyes following the tides. The hands in his pockets flexed as he rocked on his heels again.

Not wanting to eavesdrop on him any longer, you cleared your throat, leaning against the door frame. When Rafayel turned around, he had to keep his face a bit neutral, not wanting to let slip just how much he was amazed by your beauty. As his eyes scanned your outfit, you felt your skin heat up.

“Do you let every woman wear this when you paint them?” You joked, knowing he said he didn’t paint people. But who knows? Maybe a past lover had been in your exact position, except this time you weren’t lovers. Walking forward just a bit, you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the sheer cover over the silk gown itch your skin.

“Of course not! I told you I don’t paint people. But you’re an exception.” Rafayel scoffed, rolling his eyes and letting his hand come to rest on his chest. He pretended to be hurt, his thoughts clouded by the sight of you in the gown. It brought back memories, things he wished you would remember but knew were impossible. You wouldn’t remember; you couldn’t remember.

He walked over to the easel, his paints already mixed and ready to go. Looking back at you, his breath caught in his throat, his words coming out as a sigh before he steeled his expression into one of impatience. “That was a piece given to me by a very famous designer. No one has worn it, just you. And I think it was meant for you, miss bodyguard.”

Instead of adding another quip to the duel, you relented, walking over to his stool that sat a few feet from the mural wall. Awkwardly standing there, you looked at Rafayel before sitting on the stool. You tried to do precisely what you did before, one of your feet sitting on the footrest and the other gently pressing into the floor. Giving him a look, you watched as he picked up his brush. “How’s this?”

Rafayel had to clench his jaw to stop the endless compliments that would fall from his lips. Instead, he nodded his head, focusing back on the paint he haphazardly stroked onto the canvas. “Great, keep still for me, princess.”

He didn’t notice the slip of his tongue, but you did. The nickname came so effortlessly from him that you had to bite your lip. Another rush of nostalgia hit you in the chest, and your heartbeat sped up just slightly. In an effort to calm your thoughts, you took a few deep breaths, not knowing why it sounded so familiar and alien at the same time.

There was a clear picture in his head, the beige and yellow colors mixing to make a beautiful piece of art. When he was finished, he would hang it in his room for his eyes only. It was like he could still remember that day, the hot sun beating down on his skin as he stood on the dunes. The light almost blinded him when he saw you, and he began to stroke white paint on your outline.

Silence fell between you, and you remained still, your gaze swinging from the beautiful deep blue ocean in the distance. There was also the concentrated look on Rafayel’s face as he scribbled on the canvas. He usually sat on the stool, the same one you were currently occupying, but he didn’t mind having to stand, his long legs bending slightly to get a better look at the painting head-on.

The waves crashing provided good background noise as you felt his eyes on you once more. The tension in the air snapped tight each time you made eye contact, a small smile blooming on Rafayel’s face. He tried to ease some of your nerves, his gaze traveling to your hips and legs, poking out just slightly from the bottom of the gown. The blue strings of the sandals hugged your calves tight, making a slight indent in your skin.

His resolve wasn’t fairing, and he realized he didn’t think it through when he asked you to model for him. He began imagining pushing the gown up your body, exposing every inch of you to him. The thoughts that came to him sometimes at night began to slip in, and he had to shake his head lightly, pulling his hand back before he totally ruined the painting with the wrong shade of orange.

“How’s it coming along?” Your voice cut through the silence, watching as Rafayel paused for a moment. The way your eyes met was quick, an energy surrounding you that caused the hair on your arms to stand on end. If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed the way the tips of his ears blushed, his shoulder twitching as he shrugged.

“It’s coming along well; just make sure not to move. I don’t want you to mess it up, miss bodyguard.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Though his voice was light, his throat clenched as a breeze tumbled in, your gown fluttering around your legs.

The fragrance you always wore seemed enhanced by the salty smell of the ocean flowing around the room and surrounding Rafayel. He took a deep breath, your scent intoxicating to him. Whenever you were around, he couldn’t help but be intrinsically drawn to you, your natural smell causing his brain to go fuzzy.

Rafayel took notice of the way you shivered, his hand stuttering as he created the wind in his painting, the edge of the gown making a rippling effect in his art. When he looked at you again, you were still, eyes gazing at the ocean. He wondered if you felt drawn to the sea just as he did. Although curious, he never pushed the boundary, not wanting to dig up the tragic past that he was cursed to remember.

“Cold?” His question hung in the air for a second before you nodded. Instead of teasing you, his brow softened, and he tilted his head. “Not too much longer, I promise.”

When you nodded again, Rafayel turned his attention back to the painting. It was amazing how quickly he could switch into the creator mindset. His dedication to everything he did was admirable, and despite how dramatic he could be at times, it was almost always for good reason.

While he was preoccupied, you let your eyes admire him. His eyes squinted slightly, flicking over the canvas. One of his hands held his paintbrush, while in the other sat the color palette. There were many beiges and yellows, along with white and blue. Curiosity ate at you, and you wondered what exactly he was doing in the background.

His black pants slid over his legs and hung on his hips. The waistband tightly held his tucked button shirt, smoothing his shoulders. The muscles in his arms flexed as he twisted his wrist, making frantic lines on the canvas.

Caught up checking him out, you didn’t notice how Rafayel smirked. He didn’t think he would catch you staring at him so openly, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from his lips as he straightened up.

As you met eyes, he stopped, lips curled into a smirk. The distance between you seemed like it stretched on, and worlds and timelines separated you. The beating of your heart quickened, skin pebbling as another ghost of cool air wafted in. Rafayel’s eyes softened, caught in your trance.

Extending a hand, he beckoned you over to him with a proud smile as he gestured towards the painting. “Come have a look at this masterpiece.”

Hopping off the stool, you walked over. Rafayel’s eyes pierced through you as you took in the painting. He was right; it was a masterpiece . Rising dunes stretched into the distance, and dark shadows and bright highlights gave depth to the two-dimensional picture. It wasn’t until you noticed yourself that you gasped.

The white gown you were wearing stood out amongst the blue sky and beige sand but somehow still blended in perfectly. Your shadow was long behind you, the light of the sun in your face. It was amazing how he made it feel like wind brushed across your features, making the gown flow behind you. The blue accents of your sandals and the dress were small, light brushstrokes that flitted across your body and skin.

Once again, the familiar rush of longing flooded your senses, and you wanted nothing more than to reach your hand out and feel the sand fall through the gaps in your fingers. It felt so real , like a memory that was lost in time. You were in a trance, analyzing the background details: the small squares in the distance resembling a village, the shadows on your gown making it look like it was actually moving…

“You’re too silent, it’s worrying me.” Rafayel’s playful voice wrenched you back to reality. His head tilted in impatience, trying to read your expression. If he looked closer, he would have seen the scene reflected in your eyes, the longing you felt mirroring his own. However, he stayed in his spot, arms crossed over his chest, and awaited your words.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” For once, you were speechless, your throat incapable of putting together what you felt at that moment. “I can’t say anything except it’s stunning… Nothing like your other paintings…” You stared at him in amazement, your hands lying at your sides. “This one is special.”

Looking at Rafayel, you saw his Adam’s apple bob, his fingers gripping his arms. To anybody glancing at him, they would think he was perfectly normal, but you weren’t just anybody. It was a look you hadn’t seen from him like he was holding something back. He noticed the furrow in your brow, the smell of your perfume wafting towards him as you tried taking a step forward.

Rafayel met each step you took with a step back. A look of hurt and confusion passed over your face, and Rafayel had to clench his fists, jaw tightening. Every nerve in his body was on edge. His own restraint began to wear thin as he took in your appearance—as beautiful as ever—and the intoxicating scent that seemed to smother him even more than usual.

“Yeah.” He choked out, nodding his head frantically. “Yeah, it’s really special.” His lips twisted into a wry smile, his eyes trailing down your body to rest on your feet, the intricate laces drifting up your calves. It looked like he was restraining himself, his usual playful and light personality darkened by the night.

“Raf,” You said his name, and Rafayel had to stop himself. He didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him. The simple utterance of his name echoed through his head. The way you looked at him caused his throat to close; words stuck there forever, wanting to be released. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” With a light shake of his head, he was snapped back. His usual playful disposition faded a bit as he stared at you. The colors in his eyes mixed together, and even from where you stood, you could see the moonlight reflected in his pupils. “Yeah, I’m good.”

As if something snapped in him, Rafayel looked around, a low hum vibrating his throat as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. His fists clenched, blood rushing down and causing him to clear his throat. He wasn’t sure where to run to, knowing that if you just looked closer, he would be caught red-handed.

“I’m going to grab the supplies to preserve this and use the bathroom.” He pointed back towards his bedroom, breaking eye contact with you as he rocked on his heels. “Just relax on the couch for a minute… I’ll be right back.”

Rafayel trailed off, giving you almost no time to answer him as he turned and walked into his room. It was weird how he shut the door when he was always so open and inviting towards you, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

As you were blanketed in silence, you went to sit on the couch, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. Thinking back to all the times you sat there, listening to Rafayel rant and pace through the room, it brought back memories, and you smiled, seeing how different it was bathed in night.

Your eyes trailed back to the painting, entranced by its image. It looked even more real from farther away, like a picture taken by a professional camera and displayed. Sounds echoed in your mind, men laughing and shouting in the distance. The heat of the sun burned your skin, and you almost raised your hand to block the rays.

The beating in your heart increased, feeling the silk of the gown against your legs. Your bottom lip trembled, and emotions that you didn’t think were yours suddenly rushed over you. A slight tremble shook your hands, and you had to grip the dress and anchor yourself to this reality. This reality . Yes, what you felt was real; Rafayel was real, the ocean outside was real, and the city skyline and people sleeping were real. The painting wasn’t real.

You weren’t sure how long you sat on the couch, listening to the ocean waves and smelling the salt in the air. Your eyes flicked around the room, refusing to sit on the painting again. The thoughts in your head faded away as you focused on the ocean, your brain immediately landing back on Rafayel. Where was he?

Curiosity got the better of you, and you stood up, the heels of your sandals lightly clicking on the tile floor as you approached his room. From behind the door, there was rustling, and although you didn’t want to invade his privacy, you leaned in, pressing your ear against the door.

“Fuck,” Rafayel’s low voice was very faint, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the deafening silence in the living room. You bit your lip, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Thoughts raced through your head, and your face burned as you explored all the possibilities…

Rafayel’s throat closed, his brain running a million miles a minute as he tried to make it brief. Ripping his clothes off in haste, his breath came out in pants. Quiet . He tried to urge himself, his cock already throbbing and leaking precum onto the sheets.

Your scent … He had to stop the groan from his lips as he closed his eyes. The clothes that you changed out of lay perfectly on his bed, greeting him and begging to be used. Your bra… Rafayel felt so dirty. His chest flushed red as he remembered you were just one room away, waiting on him. You were waiting on him, and eventually, you would become impatient. It was only a matter of time unless he hurried up .

In contrast to his hasty thoughts, he slowly grabbed your bra, trying to convince his mind that this was okay. He could get away with it and return to where you sat on the couch. He just needed to get it out . There weren’t many people who could cause him that much turmoil. In fact, no one could, except for one person: you . No matter what, when, or where, you were the only exception.

Another low breath stuttered out as Rafayel wrapped his hand around his cock, the other hand taking hold of your bra. Your scent already washed over him, more intense than before. Your natural perfume was like an aphrodisiac, immediately causing blood to pool to his lower half. It was already hard enough to control himself around you usually, his heart aching for you just to remember , but as he glanced at your clothes on his bed, he couldn’t help himself.

“Fuck.” The word slipped out once more, his jaw clenching as he quickly tried to finish himself off. His thumb glided over his tip, precum dripping down his length. As he sniffed your bra, he thought about you, on top of him or under him, whatever it was. He pictured his face buried between your tits just as he was buried in your bra. Vivid pictures in his mind that he wanted to put onto a canvas. Display in his room so he can always see you lost in pleasure.

His hand sped up, grip tight and bruising as he bit down on his hand. He had to stay quiet; if you found him, then he would surely dive into the ocean and never return. The embarrassment almost had him stopping, but it was too late. He was already fully naked, his cock standing long and aching. He couldn’t just hide his hips from you the rest of the night, no. He had to finish. A small bead of sweat ran down his forehead, pooling into his collarbone as his fingers clenched around his throbbing cock.

Your heart rate quickened, your hand glancing over the doorknob, and you thought about it for a moment. The cold metal stung your skin, and you felt electricity run through you. You heard another expletive from the other side of the door.

With a breath, you turned the knob, opening the door and peeking your head in. While you had thoughts about what exactly he was doing, you would never have guessed what you saw.

At first, your eyes met Rafayel’s, taking in his flushed cheeks and chest. His nipples looked hard, straining in the moonlight that washed over his skin. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing one of his hands gripping his leaking cock. And the other…

Rafayel heard your gasp; his own jaw slack as his eyes met yours. The hand on his cock stopped, his fingers twitching. He was so close , the need building in his stomach and to have it cut off like that. Dropping your bra onto the bed, he sat up, his throat closing as he tried to speak.

“I… I’m…” His voice failed him, eyes searching yours. He expected to see disgust, disappointment, or even - his worst nightmare - hatred.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long.” Your hands sat at your sides, fingers moving against the flowy fabric. Arousal pooled in your underwear, your steps light as you walked to the edge of the bed.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Rafayel whimpered, his lower lip pouting slightly. The sight of him, so lewd and dirty yet looking at you so hungrily and apologetically, made your heart race. Standing there, your knees brushing against the edge of the bed, you paused. The man that lay on the bed sighed, the hand that previously held your bra hanging in the air.

Silence fell between you, and you knew you had two options: indulge in him, your feelings for the artist finally being put out in the open… Or walk away and almost surely ruin the friendship and possible relationship that might have developed. Your eyes flitted around his body, seeing his abdomen tighten with each breath he took. His cock still twitched in his grasp, his tip poking out from his fist, leaking precum and begging to be finished off.

“Do you…” You trailed off, slowly walking around to the side of the bed and sitting down. Rafayel groaned, your skin giving off a delicious scent, different than the bra that he had previously buried his face in. He hung on your every word, his eyes wide as he silently begged for you to say something. “Do you want me to help?”

The question drifted into the air, surrounding him and taking his breath right out of his lungs. As if given the green light, Rafayel sat up further, extending his hand towards you. His eyes changed from desperate to dark.

“Yes, I need you.” His voice deepened, the sincerity going far beyond pure lust and sinking into yearning. Every inch of him yearned for you; every single time he was given life, he searched for you to the ends of the earth. The gown you wore brought back memories of a different time, and Rafayel was reminded of just how deep his devotion was to you. “Please?”

Your hand rested in his, feeling how moist his palm was as he guided you to sit on his lap. Rafayel’s hands moved to your hips, bunching your gown up so your thighs were exposed to the cold air. His hard cock pressed against your underwear, the silk fabric of your dress brushing against his lower abdomen.

The way he looked at you, a wonder in his eyes like he had watched a goddess descending from the sky, was addicting. In truth, he had always looked at you that way, yet as soon as you would glance over at him, he was looking elsewhere. Rafayel never wanted to force anything on you, hoping that your bond would naturally bring you to him. After all, there were lifetimes where he couldn’t find you, where he was stuck in a world that wasn’t brightened up by your presence.

Rafayel stared at you, his lower lip pulled into his mouth as his hands awkwardly caressed your thighs. His touch was tentative, his fingers not quite sure exactly what he was doing or what he wanted to do. The desire he felt was only extended to you; the only pleasure he ever sought out was by his own hand on very few occasions. Although he could remember the past, those specific instances never popped up and unfortunately, he didn’t really retain the muscle memories.

Your hands rested on his bare chest as you leaned forward. Before you could speak, Rafayel wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you flush against him. A low growl vibrated through you both as he buried his face in your neck. A soft kiss was pressed to your pulse point, his nose brushing against your skin.

“Fuck, princess.” His voice was nearly silent, more for himself than for you. Your touch on his skin was electric, like a shock by an eel. Every single thought in his head was erased, his focus solely on you. Your scent, your touch, your face, your voice, and fuck the way you tasted.

His tongue darted out, licking a stripe from your shoulder to under your ear. Cold air brushed across the trail, your eyes closing and your body reacting to the drastic change in temperature. You tasted divine, the salty sweat and unexplainable sweetness of your skin making his cock twitch under you.

“Tell me if it’s too much, princess,” Rafayel warned, listening to your sharp breaths and soft moans as his hands ran along your back. Slowly you ground your hips down onto him, only the thin fabric of your panties separating your pussy from his cock. It was gentle, giving you small glimpses of the pleasure he could bring you, but you weren’t in any rush. You wanted to indulge in the man below you.

As soon as he spoke, his teeth grazed your neck. With each slight nip at your skin, another gasp fell from your lips. A small drip of spit fell from your open mouth, searing Rafayel’s skin, and he had to clench his jaw, biting down a little harder. You drove him crazy , his heart always following your siren song no matter the consequences…

Rafayel’s nips turned into bites, which then turned to the soothing warmth of his tongue. He couldn’t wait to see what they bloomed into, the memories of the night lasting for days after. It wasn’t until your hands moved to his hair, tugging at the strands in an attempt to pull him off your neck, that he moved. He was a puppet under your strings; wherever you pulled him, he would go.

“Raf…” Fuck , Rafayel sucked in a breath when he heard you say his name like that, breathless and wanting.

“Yes, princess?” You stole the breath from his lungs, keeping it locked in your heart. “What do you need? Tell me.” His thoughts became nonsensical babbling, hands drifting back down to your hips.

“Want you, Raf.” Your brain was muddled with thoughts, not fully believing that you weren’t dreaming. Rafayel was - in fact - underneath you, his chest flushed and hands gripping your hips with a ferocity that you didn’t know if you could handle.

“You have me.” He teased, his thumbs stroking your hips through your gown. Even between layers of fabric, you could feel his searing touch.

“I want all of you.” You sat up, grinding your clothed pussy against his cock. By now, your panties were soaked with a mixture of his precum and your arousal, the tip of his cock poking out from between your legs. Reaching down, you ran your thumb across his slit, listening to the sharp gasp from the man below you. “Want your hands, your mouth, your cock. All of you.”

Rafayel’s hands cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer so your nose brushed against his. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, his thumbs running along your cheekbones. His words fanned across your face, digging deep into your soul and planting itself there.

“You have all of me, princess.” It was the first kiss you shared, his lips slowly pressing against yours in a tentative dance. Giving you plenty of time to push him away, he relaxed when he felt you pull him in. Your hands moved from his hair to the back of his neck. His heart rate rocketed against your thumb as you rubbed along his pulse point.

It was initially slightly awkward, Rafayel’s closed lips cold against yours. Smiling, you pulled away, seeing a brush of red across his nose. Your hand moved to cup his jaw, your thumb pressing on his chin.

“Just relax, Raf.” You whispered, your breath being swallowed by his slightly opened lips. When you leaned in, his shoulders relaxed. The second time was better, his eyes following your every movement, and as you kissed him, he leaned into it. Your tongue poked out, parting Rafayel’s lips even further, and his grip on your waist tightened, slowly pushing and pulling your clothed pussy across his cock.

As your tongues met, you swallowed one of his moans, his lips chasing yours in desperation. Once again, your lips tasted delicious, and Rafayel did not want the kiss to end. Your thumb moved along his jaw, caressing his skin as the man below you panted, his breath hot as he had to pull himself away.

It was everything he ever dreamed of and more, all the restless nights he spent awake, thinking of you. The slow, languid drag of your tongues had Rafayel bucking his hips, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit. Low groans were exchanged as you pulled back.

The blush on Rafayel’s cheeks deepened, his eyes darkening as he leaned forward, his hands gripping at the hem of your gown. In a silent plea, he tugged, pulling up enough to look at your panties. If he didn’t know any better, he would have bit through his lip, his knuckles almost turning as white as your dress.

“Can I take it off?” He asked finally, his nose brushing your cheek. Your combined breaths were deep, his chest stuttering as you nodded, helping him remove the gown. It came with padding, so cold air struck your nipples. A gasp came from you, and you closed your eyes.

Words couldn’t describe the way Rafayel looked at you, his jaw slack and eyes unfocused. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face as he took in your appearance. As beautiful as he remembered.

“You’re absolutely stunning, princess.” His words were carried by the ocean breeze, sailing across the seas. The hands on your hips stopped for a moment, slowly inching up your waist. He wanted nothing more than to touch you and feel your plush skin under his fingertips. There was no way in hell he would let you go. You wouldn’t slip through his fingers again.

“Thank you.” You smiled down at the man below you, your hips slightly twitching as cold air rushed in again. Taking notice of his hesitance, you hold his hands, leading them to your warm breasts. “You can touch me, Raf. I want you to touch me.”

His fingers tested the waters, kneading your tits. Rafayel was very good about teasing you without actually knowing he was; the way he was massaging you without touching the most sensitive part had you whining. Your pussy rode the wave of his cock, languidly grinding as you tried to get some form of pleasure.

Before you could ask - beg - for him to touch you properly, he was leaning forward. His tongue brushed against your nipple, eyes shadowed by his lashes as he stared up at you. Rafayel was testing the waters, revering in your reactions even to his small actions. Your skin tasted divine, his lips immediately wrapping around the pebbled bud.

“Fuck, Rafayel.” One of your hands buried itself in his hair, fingers gripping the locks like it was the only thing you could hold onto in the rough waves. While he indulged in one of your breasts, the other was occupied by his hand, his fingers tweaking your nipple. The way your moans hung over him, your mouth so close to his ear. He could feel the vibrations of each noise you made, your heartbeat thrumming beneath his fingertips, and he had to remind himself you were alive, sitting on his lap. This was real ; it wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy.

“There you go, princess.” His breath hit your wet skin, your nipple hardening almost painfully as he blew cold air. The grip he had was rough with desperation instead of dominance. Even though he was below you, you still felt at his mercy, just like he felt he was at yours. “You’re so warm.”

The hand on your hip ran along your back, his fingers mapping every muscle and bone he could touch. Your skin was so warm under him, whether from the situation or your natural state; Rafayel didn’t know but wanted to find out.

A small pool of precum sat on his lower stomach, evidence of his previous alone time and a reminder that he wasn’t quick enough. You caught him, hook, line, and sinker. Maybe he liked being caught…

Darkness flooded you as you closed your eyes, one of your hands anchoring yourself on Rafayel’s bare shoulder while the other on the back of his head. Holding him against you, it felt as though your heartbeats were one. Completely in sync like it was meant to be for ages and ages.

Underneath you, Rafayel desperately thrusted his hips, wanting and needing any sort of movement on his throbbing cock. He needed to be buried in you, feel your warmth from inside. Fleeting touches were pressed to your back, pulling you into him while also causing your folds to trail along his cock.

“Can we… Can I go further?” Although he so desperately needed it, he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. A slight nervousness flooded through him, and he looked up to gauge your reaction. “I- I’ve never done this before, but p-please.” His eyebrows furrowed, shadows dancing across his face as you cupped his jaw.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered, lips crashing onto his once more to drink in his presence. As impatient as you both were, the thought of it being his first time had you slowing it down. Need wasn’t a good word for it, no. There was a yearning in his eyes, swimming and inviting you into the depths with him. “Please fuck me, Rafayel.”

A yelp echoed through the room as Rafayel quickly sat up. His arms supported your waist as he flipped you over, your bare back resting against his soft sheets. From the new angle and the lack of his hips pressed against yours, cold air hit your clothed pussy.

“You’re so beautiful.” Goosebumps appeared on your arms, Rafayel’s hands sitting on your hips and moving up your torso. Half of him was entranced by your tits, and the other half was anxious about finally seeing you - all of you.

“Rafayel, please.” Tiny twitches of your hips brought Rafayel back to the present, his eyes drifting to yours. The soft, pleading look you gave him had his back flexing. Leaning over you, he pressed his long cock against your pussy. His tip brushed against your clothed clit, and he bit his lip, his nose brushing yours as he hovered over you.

“Do you remember what I was doing while touching myself?” The embarrassment he previously felt at being caught was out the window. In an attempt to prevent himself from losing control, he took the reigns, watching your eyes widen. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your collarbone, then your shoulder, a few on your neck until, eventually, his nose pressed against the same spot as before, right below your ear. He could feel your thrumming heart through your veins, sucking on the spot before burying his face there.

With your hands now more accessible to roam, your nails lightly scratched along his back and shoulders, moving down to his waist and across his abdomen. A sharp breath came from the man above you, his nose nuzzling your skin.

“Tell me, princess.” His whisper was pressed into your skin, thrumming through your veins. Silence suffocated you as he waited for an answer, his hands cupping your breasts, thumbs lightly flicking your nipples. “What was I doing when you caught me?”

Frantic touches turned deeper as you held his waist against you. Every sense was full of Rafayel, your nails digging into his flesh and threatening to draw blood. You tried to remember the moment of catching him, feeling like it was so far away as if it had happened centuries ago. The mental file cabinet that stored your memories was being wiped clean; even thinking back to the previous minute was impossible.

“You were… F-fuck…” Whimpering, you bit your lip, the image coming back to you. You held his waist tighter, your core throbbing as you thought about it. “Y-you were holding my… My bra.”

A low hum came from Rafayel, the memory of it still fresh in his mind. His cock twitched, resting across your folds. Pinching both of your nipples, Rafayel took a deep breath. He felt drunk, his head spinning with thoughts of holding you like this again for the rest of his life and all the lives that would follow.

“Your scent…” His voice morphed into an animalistic growl, every atom in his body vibrating. A carnal urge filled him, and he hooked his fingers in your underwear. You felt a puff of air on your neck; his words strained in his throat. “Can I take these off?”

“Y-yes.” You nodded along with your words; a moan ripped from your throat as he quickly ripped your panties down your legs. There wasn’t but a moment of his hands not being on you before he was roughly holding your thighs open. Your slick pussy clenched around nothing, folds spreading to expose you to him.

With much reluctance, Rafayel lifted his head from your neck, trailing kisses down until he was in front of your leaking hole. The fragrance… Fuck … His throat closed, heart hammering as he blew air over your pussy. Your cunt throbbed, thighs wanting so badly to close around his head, but he held you open.

He was transfixed, everything about your pussy was beautiful. As he pressed kisses along your thigh, he paused, kissing your folds and looking up to read your expression. You ran your fingers through his hair, nodding and encouraging him to continue.

“Fuck.” He cursed, his teeth nipping at your thigh. Something snapped in him, his hands digging into your flesh as he moved forward. His nose brushed your clit, a gasp coming from your lips at the sudden jolt. Inhaling your scent, he moaned, his tongue coming to collect some of your juices from your hole. He traced around your entrance, not yet dipping inside. Your taste was better than any alcohol he ever drank.

“Delicious.” The words were spoken into your pussy, his tongue drawing circles around your folds while his nose rubbed your clit. He was so caught up in you that he didn’t notice the way you tugged his hair.

“Raf,” You whined, pulling your hips away just enough to make him look up at you. Though there was a drunken stupor to his gaze, he was attentive, his thumbs caressing the junction between your thigh and hip. “Your nose… Feels so good on my clit… More…”

You tried to guide him, seeing his glazed-over eyes and smiling at him. When he dove back in, his tongue flicked your clit, and a louder moan was ripped from your lungs. A near scream echoed when Rafayel’s lips suctioned over your sensitive bud, his tongue causing you to clench your eyes shut.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed, feeling his finger simultaneously press into you. It was slow and methodical, sinking deeper. Your velvet walls enveloped him, the warmth from your body filling him to the brim. His hips stuttered on the sheets, his own pleasure rocketing through him at your screams.

After a few thrusts, Rafayel’s middle finger teased your hole, gently joining the other one. Nothing could have prepared him for how warm you felt, his fingers twisting and turning inside you as he explored. Biting your lip, you felt his long fingers brush your walls, the tips eventually passing over a particularly sensitive spot.

“Oh my- right there.” Bucking your hips, you ground into his fingers. His tongue teased your clit as he slowly fucked you, each press forward gliding against your g-spot and causing a burst of fireworks in your vision. “Rafayel.”

Rafayel was overwhelmed. The sight of your heaving chest, the sound of your moans, the smell of your leaking pussy, the feeling of your warm walls, and the taste of your juices. He couldn’t take it anymore, ripping his fingers from your cunt, leaving you whining and clenching around nothing.

“I’m sorry, princess…” He moved up the bed so he could look into your eyes. As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his tongue, his thumb still playing with your throbbing clit. His hard cock rubbed against your pussy, his tip joining his thumb as waves of pleasure prickled your skin. “I have to be inside you now .”

Rafayel gripped his cock, squeezing the base. For a moment, time froze, his chest heaving as he looked down at your entrance, your hole pulsing and waiting to be filled. He had to pause, collecting his thoughts. The fear of finishing as soon as he was buried inside you was a possibility. His pent-up emotions trickled over the edge of the dam, ready to burst with any little crack.

As he guided himself into you, he sighed. Centuries and centuries of finding you, loving you, losing you . It all culminated in that moment. His hands seared as he pushed all the way, his cock fitting perfectly in your walls. You shared a low moan, both of your bodies reacting the same way as he bottomed out.

The feelings you harbored for Rafayel were intense, and they only grew with each day you met him. But as he looked down at you, his cock fully nestled against your g-spot, you felt your heart jump. Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying with useless abandon to get him deeper, fill every inch of you with him.

“Fuck.” Rafayel breathed through his nose, trying to keep himself calm as his eyes traveled around your body. The heels of your sandals dug into his back, a slow circling of your hips giving way to the low growls from the man above you. “Hold on, princess…” He stilled your hips, his abs clenching as he prolonged his orgasm. “Don’t wanna cum yet.”

You obeyed his plea, your head laying on the pillow as you both caught your breath. His cock twitched inside you, skin burning with desire as he skimmed his fingers over your thighs. As you looked up at him, that same sense of nostalgia suffocated you. Like with the paintings, it was as if you were looking at a picture, a fleeting memory in your mind's eye. But he was real; this was real.

“Okay, gonna move now.” The thrusts started slow and shallow, only pulling out halfway before pressing back in. Your pussy was so wet, the noises doing nothing to hide that fact. Bending down, Rafayel nuzzled his nose into your cheek, his lips ghosting over yours.

An instinct fell between you, his hands cupping your cheeks while yours rested on his waist. His muscles contracted with each breath and beat of his heart. It was natural… As if you had held each other in this position before.

The kiss you shared was soft, Rafayel holding you like you would disappear… Again … You were sand between his fingertips, and he didn’t want you to be washed away by his tides. As he kissed you, he pulled out all the way, thrusting forward harshly. The sound of his balls slapping on your ass and the sharp gasp that he swallowed with his own mouth had Rafayel taking control.

He pulled away from your lips just enough to look into your eyes. The thrusts that were once soft and exploratory, learning the inside of your body, turned into an insatiable hunger. Now that he had you, he didn’t want to let you go. People in his life came and went, and he never cared that much… You were the only exception; you were always the only exception. As long as his soul was on the planet, he would always find you. He swore on his people.

Wet noises and slaps bounced off the walls as Rafayel frantically chased your orgasms. One of his hands remained on your jaw, thumb running along your cheekbone. The other snaked down to where you were connected. First, he rubbed along your entrance, feeling the way you sucked his cock back in when he pulled out. Then, he pressed on your clit, finger quickly flicking. His hips stuttered every time you clenched around him, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Fuck, Rafayel.” His name ripped out of your throat, your eyes blinking rapidly to clear the tears that were beginning to fall. Everything was too much; your whole body ignited in flames as you clung to Rafayel’s back. “I- I’m close.”

Your whimper went straight to Rafayel’s cock, his abdomen flexing as he felt himself so close. So very close . Just a little longer, a little more. Electricity sparked when you met eyes, the colors fading and blending into a beautiful hue as Rafayel panted, his tongue licking at your open mouth.

“M- me too, p-prin-cess.” His words stuttered just as his hips did, chasing and chasing and chasing. It wasn’t until he heard your scream right next to his ear that he let himself fuck into you harder.

Your orgasm crashed into you, your whole body convulsing as your legs locked around Rafayel’s waist. Fire washed across your skin as your hole pulsed around the cock that was still spearing in you. Low whimpers fell from your lips, overstimulation and exhaustion settling into your muscles while Rafayel chased his own orgasm with reckless abandon.

As he looked at you, his beautiful princess, he ground his hips into yours. Holding himself still, he panted, warm breath fanning across your face as spurts of warm cum flooded your walls. There was so much. It didn’t stop, his seed pushing out from around his cock as he slowly fucked you through your orgasms.

A slow, passionate kiss was pressed to your lips, Rafayel’s fingers lightly wiping the few stray tears that fell. His cock softened inside you, yet he stayed still, the feeling of being wrapped up in you something he ached for.

“Wow,” Your chest heaved as Rafayel’s weight nearly fell on top of you, your legs dropping to either side of his waist. Your hands sat on his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles.

The man above you chuckled, kissing your nose. There wasn’t anything he could say that could showcase how deep his feelings were for you. How much he yearned for you. How his heart almost stopped when he saw you for the first time. How his soul needed to be right next to yours or he felt incomplete.

“Yeah… Wow…” Was all he could say, agreeing with your sigh of wonder. He searched your eyes for any sign of hesitance, hoping and praying that your heart would remember his. That’s all he ever wanted, and it was for you to remember . “I’m… Sorry about what you walked in on.”

The thought of being caught sniffing your bra and jerking off caused Rafayel to shiver, his eyes dropping your gaze for a moment. Sometimes, he could be overwhelming, especially when you weren’t officially together, and something like that would scare some people away.

“Oh.” Being brought back to earlier, seeing the flush in his cheeks almost exactly mimicking the flush that was present now, a shy smile crossed your features. “I- I didn’t mind it. Why else would I offer to help… If I didn’t find it hot?”

Your words paused, letting Rafayel drink in the feeling of you in his arms. Gently, he turned back over, his back hitting the bed. His cock was still snug inside you, even though his cum was starting to leak down his balls and onto the sheets. Pulling you into his embrace, he caressed your back, kissing your temple.

“Good… I thought I scared you away.” The fear of you leaving him yet again was a cloud that lifted from his mind as soon as you laughed, snuggling into his arms and kissing his collarbone.

“Can we stay just like this for a minute?” Your muscles began relaxing, eyes closing as you listened to his heartbeat mirroring your own. “I feel… complete.”

As you uttered those words, Rafayel fought back tears. He gripped you so hard, no longer afraid of you floating away. Now, all he wanted to do was hold you close and never let you go. People came into his life, and they left. He never cared much, but when faced with the realization that you were here , you were so close, you were the only exception.

“We can stay like this forever, cutie.” He whispered in your hair, eyes closing as he relived the past, holding you close like that once again after centuries.

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4ttack-ur-heart · 4 months ago

Text

Abstract Love~

NSFW

Pairing: Rafayel x fem! Reader

Warnings: Rafayel tops, smut, scissors used to cut clothing, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex.

Summary: What had started out as a wholesome idea of becoming Rafayel’s human canvas quickly shifts into sexual tension and a passionate night.

AN: I haven’t written a fic in like over a year so bare with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s just bad lol 😭

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“Hold still, Cutie.” Rafayel gently commands as he grips your wrist.

His tongue just barely pokes past his normally pouting lips in concentration as he angles the paintbrush carefully over your skin.

You let out a small giggle as the brush fibers danced across your ticklish arm. “It tickles though.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh and grips your wrist a little tighter.

You see, the day just started with him painting a commission and you stopped by to spend time with him and wind down after a long week. But after many little snarky comments and teasing each other, he managed to splatter you with paint as a joke.

Unfortunately for you, the paint splatter (according to Rafayel) looked just like a specific species of coral that grew in Lemuria. To you, it looked just like what it was; a paint splatter. He's the artist, though.

So now, you’re being held hostage and yelled at to hold still by your dramatic boyfriend while he finishes your new armpiece on the round ottoman in his living room.

“Ya know, people would kill for me to paint on them.” He says and his gaze shifts from your arm to your eyes. “You could be just a little grateful.”

Blowing a stray piece of hair out your face, you roll your eyes at his comment but stay silent.

He continues working in silence after that. A bit of annoyance runs through you as he continues to trail the paintbrush higher up your arm until the strokes hit the edge of your t-shirt sleeve.

Rafayel grabs your sleeve and tugs at the material impatiently. “Off.”

“No, Raf, I just wanna relax and you still have to finish your piece-”

“Please, baby?”

Fuck, now Rafayel sits there with the saddest puppy dog eyes as his eyebrows curve up. He even adds a lip wobble in there to really get under your skin.

You let out a sigh, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you agree. “Okay, okay. Big baby.” Your fingers curl underneath your top to take it off.

Rafayel’s hand quickly grabs you before you can tug any further. “Wait, you’re gonna smudge the paint.”

And just like that, your blood pressure rises again. Your arms drop down to your sides and wait for more directions, cause apparently you aren’t doing it right.

“Please don’t hate me.” He stands up and walks over to a nearby cabinet with his back turned towards you. All you can hear is junk rattling around as he rummages in one of the drawers.

As he turns around, you don’t miss the shiny glint in the basking sunlight of what he is holding in his hands.

You quickly sit up straighter and your mouth drops open in shock. “You are not cutting off my shirt.”

Rafayel sits down beside you again, yet you back away as he moves closer.

“Please? I’ll buy you like ten more,” he begs as if he were asking you for a piece of candy. Rafayel stares at your glare in dismay, and then the begging continues.

“Raf, I like this shirt.”

“My love,” his arms wrap around your waist and he nestles his head into your lap. “I’ve been working on that commission for hours. I just need a little break.”

Rafayel’s warm breath fans over the exposed skin on your tummy and lets out a soft groan as his arms tighten around your body.

“My rock, my inspiration, my muse. I’ll never ask for anything again.”

You let out a laugh knowing damn well that wasn’t true in the slightest.

He pouts again at your reaction and lets out a huff. “What’s it gonna take?”

Your fingers thoughtfully stroke your chin as if you were a wise man with a beard. “I want you to take me to that nice restaurant with the fancy classical music.”

He goes to respond but you cut him off before he could even let out a sound.

“And a trip to the arcade. They have a new plushie collection.”

“Done.” Rafayel pushes your body against the ottoman as he moves to straddle you and makes sure to push all of your hair away from your shirt. “Hold still, baby.”

If circumstances were a bit different, this would be so sexy.

He grips the bottom of your top, the cool metal of the scissors gently grazing your skin sending shivers up your body. The thin fabric easily slices as he gets closer to your neck.

“Tilt your head back.” His free hand grips your chin and gently pushes back, exposing your neck. With a final snip, the fabric now hangs loosely off your body, leaving just your bra exposed. He helps you out of it and discards the ruined shirt and scissors to the side.

Rafayel continues to hover over you, his breath growing ragged at the sight of your breasts straining against your bra from the position. He leans down and places a lingering kiss on your lips. His tongue glides over your bottom lip before slowly dragging his lips down your jawline and neck.

“R-raf…” you breathe out. What the heck is he doing? Is he trying to make you horny or trying to make art? If he continues, you’d know you both would be too turned on and needy for each other to continue.

“I know, I know.” His head falls on your chest in defeat. “I won’t be able to stop if we keep going.”

There’s a silence for a few moments before he lets out a sigh, the air flowing between the valley of your breasts.

Letting out another groan, Rafayel focuses on finishing you- well, his art on you.

“Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny.” The muffled words ring from him like a prayer and it sends you into a laughing fit.

“C'mon finish up.” You tap at his arm and he reluctantly sits up and grabs the paintbrush again.

The next 20 minutes were spent in silence. Your eyes were closed as you didn’t think you'd find this activity as relaxing as you originally thought. The occasional hums and steady breathing fill the void in the meantime. Rafayel had managed to paint his way up your arm, across your clavicle, and back down to the other arm. The original coral piece he had started with had expanded into various designs of foliage, all oceanic of course. Vibrant colors littered your body as different designs of seaweed, shells, and even bubbles coated most of your top half.

You feel the tip of the brush swoop down between your cleavage before abruptly stopping. Blinking your eyes open at the pause, you look down and see Rafayel’s eyes sadly staring at the front band of your bra that connects the cups. His bottom lip was stuck between his teeth as he hesitantly met your eyes.

Sitting up carefully, your hands reach back to unclasp the garment and you don’t miss the way his eyes lit up at the sight of your now naked chest.

“Are you excited that my bra is off cause of my tits or so you can continue painting?” You tease and wave the dangling bra in front of his face.

He tosses the garment away and it lands helplessly on one of his easels across the room. The blue and pinky irises were now glazed over with something you couldn’t quite catch.

“Both.”

Rafayel moved his palette stand closer to his new position. The veins in his hands flexed as he twirled the brush between his fingers and dipped it back in his colors.

“Ooh,” you shiver slightly as the cold paint bleeds from the paintbrush down your breasts and your nipples start to grow perky. “Can I put on some pasties?”

Rafayel lets out a small snicker at your words. His eyes never leave your body as he continues to paint. His eyes flick to yours and he raises an eyebrow, “Did you really just ask me that?”

Your hands move your hair off your neck and you go to rub your shoulders for warmth but remember the wet paint coating your skin.“Yes, didn’t I buy some when I wore that dress with the open back for your last exhibition? I could’ve sworn I left them here.”

“I threw them out.” Rafayel’s words were quick. Too quick. Not to mention his focus had immediately shifted back to painting your chest. Your boyfriend is not smooth, he just wants to see your boobs.

“Rafayel.” Your tone is playful as you draw out your next words, “I’m cooold.”

Rafayel’s eyes lock onto your hard nipples. His lips parted slightly as a wicked idea filled his brain. Wordlessly, he lowers his head and quickly suctions his lips around the left bud. You moan out in surprise, your hands immediately coming up to entangle into his purple locks. His tongue swirls around the bud, lips squelching against your skin and his teeth lightly graze it.

Rafayel pulls off the swollen bud with a harsh pop and dips his head to latch onto your other nipple. Your body squirms in response with little breathy whimpers leaving your mouth.

After giving the same treatment, he pulls off the other nipple, and a smirk forms on his face. “Warm enough now?”

And just like that, he continues painting, while you try to ignore the wetness forming between your legs.

Oh, this son of a bitch is evil.

Rafayel stretches the artwork down to your naval and his left hand starts to grip your hip. You couldn’t help but continue to squirm and writhe a bit as the soft bristles kiss your skin. Not to mention the now heated sexual tension building up.

You squeeze your legs together in hopes of ignoring the growing heat.

“If you keep moving, I’ll tie you down.” He threatens.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Rafayel is not normally this… bold. The sex you two have- you wouldn’t call it vanilla at all, but usually you’re the one initiating anything freaky so to have him start to tease you like this so nonchalantly is turning you on badly.

“Is that a threat?” You ask.

“That’s a promise.”

Finally, the brush stops at your pants.

“You know the drill,” he says as he tugs at the belt loop of your jeans. His fingers quickly unbutton the front and he gradually pulls them off with your panties.

“Wait, Raf, everything?” A gasp escapes you as you’re now fully bare in front of him. Another shiver runs through your body as his eyes are fixated on your cunt. You’re just hoping he can’t tell how aroused you are. Silence is his only answer. Your jeans are tossed carelessly with the rest of your clothes, but he keeps a hold of the lacy panties in his hand.

“Someone’s a little hot and bothered, isn’t she?” He asks as his thumb brushes over the wet patch on the fabric. Rafayel gives a small chuckle before dropping the panties and kneeling in front of your body.

You go to sit up only for his hand to quickly stop you.

“Stay there, paint isn’t dry yet.”

His voice had gotten a bit raspier it seems, the tone dropping as his eyes started to cloud with desire. You’re able to catch sight of his half-hard cock behind his pants and you exhaled shakily, but obey nonetheless.

Once again, the cold bristles touch your skin, making it even harder to stay still as he trails them down to your hip bones. “R-Raf…”

“Hmm?” His eyes never meet yours, too invested in focusing on finishing his creation so he can ruin the fuck out of it.

And you.

After only hearing silence from you, he finally looks over to meet your needy expression. He knows that look, he practically invented it. Your eyes had shifted to match a puppy’s and your mouth formed a pout as small huffs of air left your parted lips. The same stupid look he gave you earlier when he wanted to start this project. Oh, how it came to bite him in his Lemurian ass.

“Lemme finish up and I’ll fuck you, cutie. I promise.” His now quivering hand goes to continue painting down your thighs and you jerk abruptly as the brush kisses your inner thigh.

When Rafayel looks over, he can see the wetness start to travel down the lips of your pussy, a small puddle staining the furniture underneath you. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and his breath hitches in his throat. His hands hook underneath your thighs and pulls you closer to him before diving in like a hungry shark.

You let out a surprised whine as you feel his tongue slide into your folds and start to lick. Instantly, your leg curls around his neck and he groans into you. His tongue circles around your clit and suctions to it, much like he did to your nipples. Dirty moans leave your lips as small beads of sweat start to accumulate on your forehead.

“Hu-agh!” Your fingers grasp the edges of the ottoman fiercely as you start to slowly grind your hips into his face.

Rafayel slurps at your cunt, the filthy noises filled the once-silent room and his groans send vibrations straight to your core. After one more long suck on your clit, he pulls away, much to your dismay.

Ignoring your whines of protest, he looks at the puffy bundle of nerves and he can feel his cock fully hardening. The golden rays of the setting sun through the windows glow onto Rafayel and you can see your juices coating the lower half of his face.

“Baby, let’s stop painting,” you reach for his hand that rested on your thigh. “Please, I need you.”

Rafayel would love nothing more than to take you right here and now. To smear every piece of furniture in this room with the paint from your body, but he has a better idea in mind. An idea that required him to finish painting you.

“Soon, my love.” He leans over once more to lift your chin and he brings his face closer to yours as he seals your mouths together. You could taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his mouth when he slips his tongue in briefly. He pulls away and ruffles a hand through his hair.

Rafayel tells you to stay sitting up as he works on finishing your thighs and legs.

Soon enough, your front half is covered in paint. His detailed masterpiece swirls down your body and he swears you look so ethereal. Rafayel holds out a hand to help you up and he guides you to one of the floor-length mirrors resting on the wall.

He stands behind you as you take in his work, hands settling on the outside of your hips as he presses your body against his. A soft kiss is placed on your shoulder blade.

You really did look beautiful.

“If you give me at least twenty minutes to do your back, I promise you, my queen, I will worship you.”

A frown appears on your lips in response to his words.

More waiting?

“How would you even paint my back?” You ask since you risk the possibility of smearing or cracking the creation down your front.

“Just stand, okay? I’ll be quick.” Rafayel promises.

Bracing your hands against one of the walls in his studio, your hair was now pulled up, as Rafayel continued to paint your body.

Within only a short time, your back and the rest of your arms were completely painted. Rafayel had already planned out the rest of the piece in his mind while he was eating you out. How to enhance your figure and beauty without taking up too much time. Because, let’s face it- he wanted you, needed you. So, he had decided to go with larger and simpler designs instead of going as small and intricate as he did with your front.

You weren’t squirming as much even though it tickled as he continued lower and he wasn’t stopping as often either, his strokes deliberate and quick. Both of you guys had one goal in mind and you were eager to achieve it.

Rafayel kneeled on the ground, just barely finishing your calves.

Almost there.

Finally.

The last brush stroke was done.

Rafayel slowly got up, placing the paintbrush on the easel where your bra hung from. His hand entertained with yours. Standing in front of the mirror again, he turns you to the side so you can see his creation.

"Wow, Raf, it's beautiful."

Underwater floral patterns flowed gracefully across your body, each vibrant hue—deep blues, soft pinks, and rich greens—complementing your skin tone beautifully. Intricate details danced in the designs, tracing from the curve of your neck down to your ankles, creating a stunning tapestry of the ocean's beauty enveloping you completely.

"I wanted you to take a good look at it before it's totally ruined."

Your eyes flit down to his pants and that's when you notice how hard he is.

With that, he practically drags you to his bedroom.

“Wait,” you stopped halfway through the doorway. “I’ll get paint all over you and the bed. Shouldn’t I go wash up really quick?”

Rafayel scoffs and a smirk crosses his features as he starts to unbutton his shirt. “Cutie, that’s the whole idea.”

He reaches underneath his bed and pulls out a large folded white tarp. Quickly throwing off the pillows and duvet, he placed the tarp on top of the sheets.

You stand there, slowly getting the idea. You watch as he takes off his shirt, slacks, and boxers, tossing them in the corner. His cock was still hard as it curved upwards and the tip grazed his stomach.

Rafayel walks over to you with a new look of determination in his eyes. His hand locks with yours as he leads you to the bed.

“Let’s make art.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he gently pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. His lips fiercely locked onto yours in a sloppy kiss as you both let out needy whimpers and groans.

Rafayel attaches his lips to your neck and starts to nibble at the sensitive skin. You let out needy whimpers when he hits your sweet spot and you curl your leg around his waist, your deprived pussy needing friction- anything.

His hard cock hits your cunt and you both react with breathy whines. The tarp crinkles and the material squeaks a bit when Rafayel leans down and lowers his head by your throbbing clit once more, his tongue darting out and circling the bundle of nerves. Not holding back anymore, your back arches off the tarp as your moans fill the air.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Rafayel's bare arms lock against your legs, keeping them spread as he feasts on you. His tongue trails lower and swirls around the entrance of your eager hole, his whole face practically buried between your folds.

“Augh- right there…” you whisper breathlessly. “N-no, where are you going?”

Your fingers curl into his hair when you feel him start to pull away. He hovers over you again and places his hands beside your head. His lips find yours and he starts to rut himself against your cunt.

“F-fuck.” Rafayel whimpers against you and lets out a long hum. He becomes annoyed at the thought of ending so soon when you two just barely started. “I wanted to savor this moment, but baby, I can’t. I need you. Please.”

He pulls back slightly, the intensity of his dark, smoldering eyes locking onto yours with a passion that ignites a fire deep within. They seem to plead silently, urging you to utter the words that linger on the tip of your tongue, a promise of unspoken desires hanging in the air between you.

“Please, Raf, don’t make me wait.”

His hand trails down between your naked bodies and grasps his aching cock. He slides it up your folds, coating it in your wetness before slowly sliding in.

You both moan in unison as your gummy walls envelop his cock. Rafayel’s face is buried in your neck, as one hand holds up his weight and the other tangles in your hair.

He starts to thrust in and out, and your toes start to curl. The room becomes heated fast as the sinful sounds of skin slapping mix with filthy moans.

“Mm, fuck, you feel… so good.” He pants in your ear and his tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. “My beautiful muse.”

His words help tighten the knot in your lower tummy with your cries become louder with every thrust as you desperately try to chase your release.

Sloppy kisses are placed along your face and his moans become ragged groans as he too is close to cumming.

“I— augh!.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too.”

Words are really hard right now. Your mind was too cock drunk to even think straight. Rafayel lets out a choked noise and his thrusts start to falter slightly.

Dazed, your hand brings his face in front of you so you can see his pretty eyes. “F-finish with me.” Though your words are slurred and lazy, he understands completely.

His hips thrust even deeper into your hole as his body starts to shake. Your orgasm washes over you and you cry out, muscles tensing.

Before you can even recover, Rafayel pulls out of you, emitting a small noise at your sensitive walls. He roughly grabs your hips and turns you over on your stomach. The sweat on your body smears the once beautiful artwork covering your skin. The tarp shifts at the movement.

“One more, cutie, please,” Rafayel bends over your form and places another tender kiss behind your ear. “Can you do one more for me?”

You nod tiredly and he picks up your legs and spreads them once more. His fingers are placed in front of your mouth and you close your lips around them. Your tongue swirls around his digits for a good few seconds before he pulls them out.

“Good girl.”

You let out another breathy moan when his hand reaches down to finger your already stretched-out hole, ensuring you’re wet enough for another round. His long fingers are buried deep within you and your sore hips push back to rut against them.

When Rafayel pulls his hand away, there’s a long strand of cum connected to his fingers. He takes them in his mouth, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

It’s slippery when his cock finds its way to your slit again. With a slow push, he enters you again and bottoms out.

His thrusts are sloppier this time as he lays on top of you in the prone bone position. Your mind is hazy and blurred from pleasure and borderline overstimulation. The way his vulgar words are quietly whispered in your ear as if he wants to ensure you those words are for you and only you.

“You like it when I top, huh?” His words are a bit broken as small gasps and grunts are caught in between. His hand brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead from sweat and he places a tender kiss to your temple, while his other reaches under your stomach, forcing you to arch your hips.

“Mhm!”

Rafayel’s fingers find your clit once again, a broken cry escaping you in the process. The familiar coil in your tummy appeared again as your second orgasm of the evening was quickly approaching.

Loud whimpers started to leave Rafayel as well and he whines at his own orgasm building up.

“T-together, my love?”

That’s all it took to send you over the finish line. Both of you cry out in ecstasy as you finish together.

You can feel his hips stutter from his release, but Rafayel quickly pulls out before he can cum inside you a second time. Rafayel watches in a euphoric bliss as his cum shoots out all over your back in spurts before lazily trailing down your ass. The colors he had painted on you earlier were heavily faded, smeared, and now mixed with his white seed.

A content sigh escapes him as he rolls off of you and gathers you into his arms. Rafayel places loving kisses over your sweaty forehead and hair. Your fatigue quickly caught up to you and you felt like a limp noodle in his arms.

“Do you want me to start cleaning you up or would you rather lay down for a while?” He asks as he grabs a small rag sitting on the nightstand and starts to wipe the cum and sweat off your body.

"Can we just stay for a moment?" Your hand finds his resting on top of your hip, and you lock your fingers together.

"Of course, I'll start the bath in a few minutes." Rafayel brings your locked hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. "I love you, my muse."

----------

Bonus:

"So like... now what?"

The next morning, after freshening up, Rafayel laid the fully dried tarp against the bed. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he studied the tarp covered in paint.

The once-pristine white tarp had transformed into a chaotic canvas, splattered with vibrant paint that danced across its surface. The delicate designs he had painstakingly created were completely obscured, lost beneath the bold colors. Only a few faint handprints and the rough outlines of your limbs remained, turning the simple canvas into a wild abstract masterpiece.

The glass of cold-brew coffee in your hands jingles and Rafayel turns to you.

"What do you mean 'now what'?"

"I mean do we throw it out now? Or fold it up maybe?"

"We can't throw it out! This is art, this is our love, this is-"

"Porn."

#love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #lads rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x mc #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x reader smut #Rafayel x mc smut

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psformybss · 3 months ago

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When It Happened to Me Pt. 2

pt. 1

pairing: drew starkey x exgf!reader

warnings: angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers, emotional repression, unresolved feelings

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

You don’t plan on seeing him again.

You tell yourself that seeing him the other day was enough—that it was brief and strange and bittersweet, like bumping into an old version of yourself. That it stirred up just enough memory to hurt, but not enough to mean anything.

You avoid downtown for the next few days, staying tucked inside your childhood home like you used to when storms rolled through. You throw yourself into client work from your makeshift studio in the attic. You repaint the guest bathroom just because it’s something to do. You walk the neighborhood loop with headphones in, pretending the wind doesn’t sound like his voice when it’s soft.

But then it’s the day before Thanksgiving, and Sage, your younger sister, bursts through the front door like a girl on fire.

“Hey, can you help me with something?” she calls up the stairs.

You close your laptop, already tired. “With what?”

She grins, bounding into your room with that younger-sister energy that never really faded. “The gallery downtown. The holiday walk-through. I promised Mrs. Tate I’d hang a few pieces tonight, and now she wants to rearrange the whole damn place. Please. I can’t do it alone.”

You sigh. “Why does this sound like a trap?”

“It’s not,” she says too fast. “Promise.”

But when you pull on your coat and follow her out the door, there’s something in her smile that feels like a secret.

Downtown Hickory is already starting to light up—storefronts glowing gold, windows painted with snowflakes and pine trees even though it won’t snow until January, if at all. You pass Canton Coffee on instinct, your feet slowing without meaning to. You look away before the memories can take root.

Sage’s little art gallery is nestled between the bookstore and the bakery. She opens the front door, arms already full of frames and wire hooks.

“I just need help hanging the big ones,” she says over her shoulder. “Shouldn’t take long.”

But the second you step inside, you stop short.

Because he’s there.

Drew.

Leaning against the back wall in an old flannel and jeans, his hair pushed back like it used to be when he was trying to concentrate. He straightens the second he sees you, like your name just slipped off his tongue.

“Sage,” you whisper, barely turning your head.

She shrugs, fake innocence written all over her face. “He stopped by earlier. Said he missed the gallery. I told him you’d be here.”

You exhale slowly, heart stuttering in your chest. “You ambushed me.”

“Call it a sibling favor,” she says, already halfway out the door. “I’ll be next door if you kill each other.”

Then she’s gone.

You turn to him slowly, pulse loud in your ears.

“You’re still good at sneaking up on people,” you say.

“I wasn’t trying to,” he says. “I just… didn’t want the coffee shop to be it.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Why now?”

He steps toward you. Just enough to feel close, not enough to be dangerous. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you. Not once since I left.”

You look down at the polished wood floors. You don’t want to cry. You swore you wouldn’t.

“You got out,” you whisper. “You got everything you wanted.”

“I didn’t think I could have you and the dream,” he says. “I thought I had to pick. And I picked wrong.”

You don’t say anything for a while. You just walk slowly through the gallery, fingers trailing the edge of a canvas Sage painted last winter. You hear him behind you, but he doesn’t push. He waits.

Finally, you stop in front of a photograph he doesn’t recognize.

You took it the week after he left—Orion stretched across the sky above the old drive-in. A quiet night with no one around. The caption at the bottom reads: the things we wish we said out loud.

His voice breaks the silence.

“Is that…?”

You nod.

“I never stopped looking for you in the stars,” he says.

You turn to face him.

“I waited,” you admit. “I waited until I couldn’t anymore. Until it felt pathetic. Until my mom stopped asking how you were doing. Until my hands stopped reaching for my phone when I had good news.”

His face crumples. Not fully. Just enough that you see the cracks.

“I didn’t stop loving you,” he says, stepping closer. “I thought letting you go was the right thing. I thought you’d move on.”

“I tried,” you say, voice breaking. “But no one else felt like you.”

He reaches for your hand then—just like he used to. Gentle, cautious, like he’s waiting for you to pull away.

But you don’t.

You let him take it.

And for the first time in years, it feels like something inside you exhales.

Later, when the gallery is quiet again and Sage has returned to lock the front door, he walks you home.

The town is still. The air smells like cold woodsmoke and pine. He doesn’t say much—just listens to the sound of your footsteps side by side, like he’s memorizing the rhythm.

When you reach your yard, the stars are already out.

He stops at the edge of the grass and tilts his head back, scanning the sky like he used to.

“There,” he says, lifting your hand. “Orion.”

You follow his gaze, your chest aching in that old, familiar way.

“I missed this,” he says quietly. “Missed you.”

You look over at him. He’s not polished here. Not perfectly lit or camera-ready. He’s just Drew. The boy who used to hold your hand like it was the only thing that made sense.

You nod.

“I missed you too,” you say.

And then he kisses you.

Not because it’s perfect. Not because everything is fixed.

But because for the first time in years, the stars don’t feel so far away.

And neither does he.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

an:

im a sucker for happy endings so i couldn’t leave it as just one part 😭

#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey obx #drew starkey x exgf!reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey #drew starkey one shot #rafe cameron x oc #obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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bengiyo · 7 months ago

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Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.

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kittluzbills · 1 month ago

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i feel like all my stuff sounds the same is that true yall can be honest anyways here's some shit from a butt for your wednesday morning!

the truth about her - b.e.

The hum of the tour bus engine is the only sound that fills the small, cramped space. The usual chatter and laughter between Billie and Y/N are gone, replaced by a heavy silence. The night outside blurs into a dark canvas, and inside, the air between them feels thick, as if it's pressing down on both their chests.

Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, casting quick glances at Billie, who seems to be staring blankly out the window. The tension has been building for hours now, ever since they’d run into Harper backstage. Billie had been so casual about it, introducing her with a smile that made Y/N’s stomach churn with unease.

Finally, Y/N can’t take it anymore.

"How long have you been lying to me?" Y/N’s voice comes out colder than she intended, but the words feel like a knife, sharp and urgent.

Billie’s body stiffens, her fingers instinctively gripping the edge of the seat. "It’s not like that, okay? Harper’s just a friend."

"A friend?" Y/N interrupts, standing up in the small aisle. "Really? A friend you used to date?" The anger starts to burn in her chest, an ache that she can’t ignore anymore. The truth hurts more than she expected.

Billie’s eyes flash with frustration, and she stands as well, finally turning to face Y/N. "I didn’t want to tell you, alright? It’s complicated. I didn’t want to bring it up. She’s from a long time ago, Y/N. We were over before this." she pauses "Before we even met."

"A long time ago?" Y/N scoffs, but the bitterness in her voice is unmistakable. "You didn’t think I’d find out? You didn’t think I’d feel like a complete idiot when I found out from her and not from you?" Y/N’s face is flushed with hurt, her hands trembling as she gestures toward Billie.

Billie runs a hand through her hair, clearly torn. "I didn’t know how to tell you," she admits softly. "I didn’t know how to explain it without making you feel like it was a bigger deal than it was. I didn’t want to ruin what we had, what we have now."

"You think this doesn’t matter?" Y/N’s voice cracks, and for a moment, she feels her heart breaking in her chest. "Of course it matters. You made me feel like I was some afterthought, like I was just supposed to ignore this big part of your past."

Billie’s expression softens, but she still struggles to find the right words. "I swear, Y/N. I didn’t mean for you to feel like that. I didn’t want to bring her into this, into us. It was stupid, I know. But I didn't want it to mess up what we have, because what we have means so much to me."

Y/N stops pacing, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She tries to steady herself, her emotions running wild. "Billie, you should’ve told me. No matter how complicated it was, no matter how hard it seemed. You can’t just hide things from me like that."

Billie’s face falls, and she steps closer, her voice almost pleading. "I know. I messed up. I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you with the truth from the start."

For a long moment, Y/N stares at her, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air. She wants to stay angry, she wants to keep pushing Billie away, but the look in Billie’s eyes, vulnerable and full of regret, makes it hard to stay mad.

Finally, Y/N exhales, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "I’m hurt, Billie. You lied to me. And that sucks. But I know that you’re not the kind of person who would do that intentionally. I need to know you’re being honest with me. Always."

Billie steps forward, her hand reaching out slowly, almost hesitantly. "I will be. From now on. I promise." Her voice trembles with sincerity.

Y/N looks at dainty tattoo on her hand, then up into Billie’s eyes, searching for something, anything, that tells her Billie truly understands the gravity of what she’s done. Finally, Y/N takes her hand, squeezing it lightly. "I just don’t want to be second place, Billie. Not to anyone."

Billie’s lips tremble, and she steps in to pull Y/N into a tight hug, burying her face in her shoulder. "You’re not second place," she whispers. "You’re my priority. Always. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I’ll make it right."

Y/N wraps her arms around Billie, holding her close, her heart still a little bruised but softened by the warmth of Billie’s embrace. "You’ve got a lot of making up to do," she teases lightly, her voice shaky but tinged with a smile.

Billie pulls back slightly, just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, with a singular raised eyebrow "Oh really?" she let's out with a giggle.

Y/N smiles, a quiet chuckle escaping her despite everything. "Meet me in the shower in five."

hope you like this!!!!

request are always open duh!!!

kitts masterlist

MUAH

#billie eilish #kittwrites #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish angst #billie eilish fic

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theaawalker · 27 days ago

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⌲;꒰ Hammock on the Hill ꒱ Eric C.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x fem!reader

Song Inspo: Home by Phillip Phillip

Word Count: 1,123

Summary: In a rare show of affection, Dauntless leader Eric finds himself traveling with Y/N to Amity to retrieve a personalized gift she insists on having: a hammock. During the journey, Y/N sees a glimpse into the softer, rarely-seen side of the hardened leader.

Warnings: Mild romance / sexual innuendos, implied emotional trauma or nightmares, slight language (e.g., "curse her short legs"), and power dynamics in relationship (subtle, not abusive)

Masterlist: See fandoms (pc-friendly)

He thinks it's lame. What is the point of a hammock when they have a perfectly fine bed. But everyone in the compound knows Eric won't tell her no. Even though he typically doesn't show affection in public, everyone knows he always gives her anything she asks for.

That's how they end up in Amity, of all places. The people of Amity have seen Y/N many times when she is meeting Johanna, as part of her leadership duties. However, they were not used to seeing Dauntless men who could be mistaken for tanks.

"Y/N. Why are they all staring and smiling at me," he asks as they began walking through the market.

"Eric, honey, that's why I make sure not to eat the bread when I have meetings with Johanna," she snickers and steals a glance at the handsome smirk on Eric's face. She loves being the reason he looks that way, even if she doesn't tell him very often.

"Was it really necessary to drag me to the land of the hippies for you to pick up this thing," Eric grumbles under his breathe, making her smile. She steps in front of him and puts her hand on his arm causing him to look down. Biting her lip she flicks her eyes up to meet his and puts her other arm on his shoulder.

"Baby, you know I need a big strong man to carry it for me," she says as she leans on her tip toes and gives him a peck on the lips. She maneuvers her lips as close to his ear as she can and whispers "If you didn't want to help me I could have asked Four," she breathes quietly with a grin knowing what the mention of his rival will do.

When she pulls back and looks into Eric's eyes she sees the fire in them and knows it's time. She bolts toward the end of the market laughing knowing he is right behind her. Eric easily catches up to her, curse her short legs, and wraps his muscular arms around her waist forcing her to a halt.

"Now, now, Stiff you behave yourself," he whispers in her ear then drops a kiss on her neck causing her to shiver. He spins her around and looks at her face while smiling before giving her a sweet kiss.

"Let's find this hammock so we can go home," he tells her and wraps his arm around her shoulder which causes her to automatically wrap an arm around his waist and lean into him as they fall into step together. They make it to the end of the booths and find a girl of almost choosing age who looks bored until she sees them. They both are sure they will see her at the next choosing.

"Y/N, hi, I have your hammock for you!"

"Oh, thank you Rose! I'm sure it's perfect." Y/N returns the girls greeting.

"So you had a- a special hammock made for you," Eric asks furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Nope, for us," Y/N giggles and he can't help but smirk hearing the sound. Rose comes from the back of the booth with a large hammock that she has rolled up and placed in a canvas bag. Smiling the entire time Y/N happily pays for the hammock, grabs Eric's hand and begins the walk back to the train stop.

"Are you going to let me see it?"

"Not a chance, handsome. You can see it when we get home," Y/N replies and kisses his cheek. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a small smile on his face. When they get to the Amity stop they board the train and begin making their way to Dauntless.

They walk into their apartment and lay the hammock on the coffee table. She sits in his lap and he wraps his arms around her pulling her to him as tightly as he can, allowing her to tuck her face into the crook of his neck. After minutes of sitting in the silence she raises her head and he looks into her eyes and he can see happiness with a hint of sadness. Before he can ask her about it she jumps out of his lap and begins opening the canvas bag.

"Do you want to help me put it up," she asks and gives him a small smile.

"You know I won't tell you no," he answers with a smile of his own. He moves from the couch and grabs the end of the hammock to let her unroll it. She holds the fabric and begins walking backwards while smiling. When the hammock is unrolled he takes a moment to stare at it, understanding why she had it special made.

The rope of the hammock is black. The fabric is different though. It is sectioned into three colors. The top color is Erudite blue and the bottom is Abnegation gray. In the middle is black with Dauntless flames in the center.

"It's us." She hears the way his voice is slightly husky and smiles at him. He pulls her to him and kisses her passionately.

When they pull apart he clears his throat, "It's great. I love you." Just like every time he says it her stomach erupts with butterflies and she kisses him.

"I love you," after a pause she winks at him and continues, "now help me put this in the corner babe." After 30 minutes the hammock was bolted into the wall and Eric climbed in it resting his left foot on the ground and held his arms open to her. Without a word she climbed in with him and snagged into his chest.

He gently rubbed circles on her back knowing it would help ease what was bothering her. After rocking the hammock with his foot and rubbing circles on Y/N's back for a few minutes he felt her breathing even out and knew she was sleeping.

Y/N was the first girl who ever looked through his bad attitude and good looks. The few women he had been with only wanted physical encounters but nothing meaningful. Y/N got to know him and learned all she could about him. They became friends.

One day they were in the training room sparring and she knocked him down and sat on him to pin him in place. They were looking in each others eyes smiling and he leaned in and kissed her. It was nothing he had ever felt before and he knew she was going to be special.

Their relationship began to grow and they became even closer. They would sit and talk for hours and he loved how her eyes would light up when she would speak about her mother and her friends, even her specific leadership duties. One night they had stayed up at his apartment so late they fell asleep together in his bed.

The next morning he woke up holding her close to him. Because they were leaders, both of their apartments were in the pire and had windows to outside. The morning sunrise was shinning on her face in a soft orange glow and he realized he, the ruthless Eric Coulter, was in love with Y/N.

He is pulled from his thoughts when he feels Y/N stiffen and squeeze him in her sleep. He looks at her sleeping face and sees that she no longer looks peaceful. Her eyebrows are pulled together and her perfect lips are shaped into a frown.

"Baby, are you having a nightmare," he whispers to her but he gets only another squeeze in response. He begins running his fingers through her hair and holds her tighter as they rock.

"Sh, Y/N, baby. It's okay. You're okay." "I'm here. I'll always protect you," he whispers and softly kisses her head.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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ko-existing · 1 year ago

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Simple Wisdom

In the quiet spaces inbetween thoughts, there's a clever truth waiting to be discovered—a truth so simple, so obvious. Let's imagine it like this: life is a bit like a puzzle, and sometimes the pieces might seem tricky, but what happens if you don't think about what you call a problem? Is it here?

What if I told you that all problems are imaginary dreams? They might look real, but if you stop and really think, you'll find they're not as solid as they seem. It's a like magic—seeing through the tricks you play on yourself.

Sometimes, it feels like we're caught up in a storm, doesn't it? But who is perceiving that storm? Is it bothered by any of it? Isn't it quietly watching? Look closely!

So, let's wake up to this simple truth: You are the canvas, and you are the artist. You have this fantastic ability to create your own masterpiece. No need for complex brushes.

In the world of easy and finite words, there's a profound infinite intelligence. It's not about big, complicated ideas. It's about understanding the simple magic of existence and using it to paint a beautiful picture of your own story.

infiniteko's PB

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milkoomi · 6 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

chapter 1 | chapter 2

chapter three — THE ART OF SAYING “NO”

learning to say “no” and having boundaries can really lift you up. it brings you this strength that you felt like would have been impossible to have. the mentality and emotional power it gives you can make you feel unstoppable! however, i know there’s a lot of us out there that may struggle with putting your foot down and saying no. and that’s okay! this chapter is here to teach you that saying “no” and putting your own needs first is something that you are allowed to do! people pleasing is a big thing that stops a lot of us from setting boundaries, and unfortunately, it’s caused us to be put in situations or relationships that aren’t good for us. say “no”! set those boundaries! you have a right to do so.

ᥫ᭡. the importance of putting yourself first

let’s start this chapter off with a discussion on why you need to put you and your own needs first.

you can’t give your best to others when you, yourself, aren’t at your best.

this is one of the biggest lessons i had to learn for myself. i’m not one to always call out from work or miss a lecture, but there are days where my mental health is really struggling and i can’t bring myself to even get out of bed. so, i prioritize myself and take a day to rest, relax, and recharge so that i can continue to give my all the next day! people always talk about prioritizing your health, but they don’t always include mental health, so be sure that when you prioritize your health that you’re also taking your mental/emotional state in mind!

you also can’t expect yourself to give others your best when you aren’t providing yourself the best. if a friend needs you, but you are in a spot where you need yourself more yet you continue to give to another person, then you’ll have nothing left for yourself. one of the first things you hear on an airplane is to put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else with theirs. so use that same mindset of helping and taking care of yourself first before you go and help another.

people pleasing gets you nowhere

to piggyback off of the previous statement, if you’re constantly someone’s “yes” man/woman/person, you’re constantly putting yourself in a position that makes you their personal doormat. people will lose respect for you and your boundaries if you’re always trying to please them; they see it all as an opportunity to use and take advantage of you, your time, and your energy.

you can still be a good person while still having boundaries! just because you’re setting a personal boundary for yourself and for others that doesn’t automatically mean you’re selfish or anything along the lines of being a bad person.

ᥫ᭡. how to set boundaries

setting boundaries is key! it’s important that these boundaries are put into place so that your own energy isn’t taken from you, especially when you need your energy the most.

know what your personal limits are

understanding what you will and will not accept will help be the first step into knowing what boundaries you want to set! take time to reflect and ask yourself, “what do i want with my time, my emotions, and my relationships?” know how you want your energy to be spent.

be clear about your boundaries

having a good idea of what you need and want for yourself will help you communicate your boundaries. once you know your own personal limits, create a clear boundary that you want to set for yourself and for others.

use “I” statements

setting a healthy boundary is important, so be sure to use statements with “i feel…” rather than “you…” because those “you” statements can come off as accusatory, and whoever it may be that you’re setting a boundary with may not take kindly to it.

consistency

make sure you’re consistent with your boundaries. reapply or restate them until those boundaries stick. practice, practice, practice! consistency will help to continue to reinforce the boundaries you’ve set!

set consequences

people will cross your boundaries, and it’s going to happen and it will be extremely frustrating. a lot of times, unfortunately, people will continue to cross your boundaries over and over again, so set consequences.

i’m not saying you have to be outright rude or lash out on them; fighting negativity with negativity is an unnecessary stressor to put on yourself. create a plan for yourself that will help you communicate some kind of response for whenever your boundaries are being crossed.

ᥫ᭡. practice saying “no”

saying “no” is one of the key things when setting boundaries. you don’t want to go out with people? say no. your boss is asking you to pick up more hours, but you’re already starting to feel drained? say no. a friend is asking you if they can vent to you, but you’re not in the right headspace to deal with strong emotions? say no.

you can always politely say no, of course, especially in a healthy friendship/relationship or a professional setting.

here’s how:

“i’m not feeling up for it right now, maybe when i’m feeling better another day we can!”

“i can’t take those hours on, i have prior responsibilities i need to attend to.”

“i’m not in the right headspace to take that on right now, but i still love and care for you!”

i know there’s a lot of us who might worry about coming off as rude, but there are so many ways other than the ones i mentioned to say no!

again, you can still be a good person and have boundaries. if anything, having boundaries puts you in healthier mindset and can bring you healthier relationships with people! boundaries are there to strengthen yourself!

you have to be firm and to assert yourself. you know you don’t want your time and your energy to be spent on someone or something that drains you more than replenishes you.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

i just want to keep reiterating that you are allowed to say no and set boundaries. too many of us have lived lives where we felt like our purpose was to please others and give and give until we have nothing left for ourselves. put yourself first! i say this all the time: you are always you’re number one priority. it’s the truth, and i’ll keep saying the truth until it sticks for you because you need to know that for yourself. you are allowed to prioritize yourself, your wants, and your needs. being selfish, for the right reasons, is okay! wanting to take care of yourself and focus on your needs is the right reason to be selfish. you’re allowed to want your own time, you’re allowed to be there for yourself before anyone else, you’re allowed to put your own well-being before others— you should be doing so! becoming a better you means learning to put yourself first!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

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annafayeink · 5 months ago

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Canvas of Lies

summary: Cate’s life is a careful balance of paint-splattered sweaters, rejection emails, and dreams too big to fit in her tiny apartment. Lu’s life is all charm, designer sneakers, and family obligations that come with impossible expectations. They’re best friends, polar opposites—and suddenly fake dating to help Lu survive a high-stakes family dinner. What starts as an improvised act becomes a whirlwind of tangled stories, unspoken truths, and moments that blur the line between pretend and reality. In the chaos of lies they craft together, Cate and Lu might just uncover the truths they’ve been avoiding all along.

warnings & tags: best friends to lovers; fake dating; mutual pining; slow burn; emotional hurt/comfort; fluff, angst & humor; eventual romance & smut;

Read on ao3

Chapter Four

It was late afternoon, and the sunlight was softening and slanting through the trees. Lu and I strolled side by side down a quiet park path, close enough for our arms to brush occasionally. I’d insisted we take a detour past the fountain because it was my favourite place around here and, as usual, Lu hadn’t argued.

The backs of our hands touched, just for a moment, before his fingers threaded through mine. I knew exactly how Lu’s hand felt in mine, but now I couldn’t stop noticing things I’d never paid attention to before—the slight roughness of his palm, the way his fingers curled so naturally around mine. How had I never noticed that before?

It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; we’d done it a million times before, like when we were crossing a busy street, when we wanted to keep track of each other at concerts or even when I needed a tug to keep up with his long strides. But this time, it felt different. Intentional. Like it meant something. Like it was staged.

I squeezed his hand and glanced down at our intertwined fingers. “Does this feel weird to you?”

“What? Holding your hand?” He raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Not really. I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, but not like this.” I gestured vaguely with my free hand, already feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Not to make it look like we’re... you know.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Like we’re a couple?”

“Exactly.” I sighed. “It’s just holding hands. It shouldn’t feel like a big deal, right? But now it kinda does.”

Lu didn’t let go of my hand, but his thumb ran absently over mine. “Okay, maybe it feels a little weird when you put it that way. But it’s really no big deal. We’re overthinking it.”

For a second, I thought I caught something in his expression—something unreadable. But then he smirked like always, and I told myself I was imagining things.

“Maybe.” I let out a breath, glancing down at our linked fingers. The shape of his hand felt familiar in mine, but now I couldn’t stop wondering if this looked right.

Lu tugged me to an empty bench and we sat down. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and pulled his hand away to let his arm rest along the back of the bench. I leaned into it without hesitation, like I always did—the motion was so automatic I didn’t even realise it happened until I was already pressed against his side.

I glanced at his arm behind me and he caught me doing it. “What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“We’ve always been like this. Kind of… all over each other. Why does it feel different now that we’re trying to make it look like we’re dating?”

“Does it feel different?”

“It does to me. We always sit like this, it’s nothing. But now I’m wondering if someone’s watching us and thinking, ‘Wow, what a cute couple.’ And that thought feels... weird.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing my shoulder lightly as he leaned back. “You are overthinking it. People can’t tell the difference between natural and staged anyway. If we’re comfortable, it’ll look real.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I said. “We’ve always been comfortable like this. What does that say about us?”

Lu didn’t answer right away. Instead, he squinted at the sun, as if it would help him pinpoint the answer to all of my questions. “That’s why people have always assumed we were… more,” he said, after a while. His voice was light, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something that made my stomach twist.

“I guess that’s why I’m overthinking all of this. Before it was just us being us. But now that we’re supposed to actually look like a couple, I’m suddenly aware of every single move we make.”

“Yeah, I understand that.” With the hand over my shoulder, he picked up a small strand of my hair and twirled it absently around his fingers.

I reached for his hand again. He didn’t hesitate, his fingers curling around mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment, the noise of the park faded, and it was just us on the bench, the world holding its breath. It wasn’t staged. It wasn’t strange. It just was.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching as a dog sprinted past, chasing a red ball. A little boy squealed with delight as his kite finally caught the breeze, its tail dancing in the air. I followed its path, my mind wandering.

“You know what’s funny? I keep thinking people are watching us, but I haven’t actually looked at anyone else. What if nobody even cares?”

Lu chuckled, low and warm. “They probably don’t. Most people are too caught up in their own lives to notice stuff like this.” He gestured toward the small crowd milling about the park. “But if it makes you feel better, we can give them something to look at.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, really? And what exactly would that be?”

He leaned closer, mischief lighting up his face. “A grand romantic gesture. I could sweep you into my arms, dip you back, maybe even twirl you around a little. Really sell the whole ‘madly in love’ thing.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He leaned back, grinning like he’d just won something. “I think I’d be pretty convincing.”

“I swear,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him, “if you ever try that, I’ll trip you before you even get to the twirl.”

“Noted.” His grin didn’t falter, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You know,” I started, unable to keep a more serious tone away from my voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever done this with anyone else. Just... sit and be comfortable, like this.”

Lu’s gaze shifted to me, thoughtful. “Not even with Eric?”

I shook my head. “No. With him, everything always felt... I don’t know. Performative. Like there was a script. Like I had to try.”

I paused, considering my own words. Maybe that was the difference. With Lu, I didn’t have to try at all. I never had to think about what to do or how to act—I just was.

I cleared my throat. “He’d say something flirty and I’d laugh and touch his arm because that was expected or something. I guess that’s why it didn’t work out.”

He nodded, quiet for a beat before saying, “Yeah. I get that.” His voice was softer than usual, like the words carried a weight he didn’t want to drop on me. “I never really had that kind of comfort with anyone else either.”

That made me glance up at him, surprised. “Really? I thought you were always the smooth, cutesy boyfriend type.”

“I mean, sure, I played the part.” His lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes were distant, looking somewhere else entirely. “But it was always surface-level. Never... this.”

There was something about the sincerity in his voice that made my chest tighten. I brushed it off, focusing on the comfort of the moment instead. “Guess we’re pretty lucky, huh? Being this comfortable with each other.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful, and in his smile there was a hint of sadness. “Lucky.”

The hum of the park filled the quiet between us, the occasional laughter of strangers drifting on the breeze. A couple passed by, arms linked, smiling like they were in their own little world. I watched them, their natural closeness, the way they moved together without thinking. It made me wonder why this, sitting here with Lu, felt so comfortable.

“Do you think it’s weird that we’ve always been like this?” I asked suddenly.

Lu tilted his head. “Like what?”

“This.” I gestured between us. “The touching, the leaning, the casual... everything. Most people don’t have this with their friends, right? So why is it so normal for us?”

He considered the question, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the back of my hand. “I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s just... us. Some people are wired for that kind of closeness, and some aren’t. We just happen to be the kind of people who don’t need all those boundaries.”

“Maybe.” I sighed. “But now that we’re trying to make it look romantic, it’s like I can’t stop analysing it. Like, what if all those little things we’ve always done have been toeing the line this whole time, and we just didn’t realize it?”

Lu turned to face me, his expression softer than I expected. “Cate, if anyone else ever thought we were something more…” He hesitated, just for a second, then shook his head slightly. “That’s on them. We’ve always known what we are. And just because we’re pretending now doesn’t change any of that.”

His words sank in, and I nodded slowly, even as my mind lingered on the question. “Yeah. You’re right.”

His arm shifted from the back of the bench to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me close. It was a gesture I’d felt a hundred times before, but today, it made my stomach flutter. I told myself it was just the new context—the whole fake-dating thing—but the feeling didn’t go away.

“You okay?” Lu asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Yeah.” I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how convincing we are,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. “I mean, if I didn’t know us, I’d totally buy it.”

Lu smirked. “Well, we are a pretty great team.”

I tilted my head up to look at him. “We are, aren’t we?”

Our eyes met, and for a split second, the world seemed to tilt—not dramatically, but enough to make my breath catch. It was just a moment, a flicker of something unspoken that I had to force back down into hiding.

I was just starting to relax, the rhythm of Lu’s thumb brushing against my shoulder soothing in a way I didn’t want to think too hard about, when a voice cut through the quiet behind us.

“Cate? Luigi?”

My head snapped up, my heart lurching as I spotted Emma and her boyfriend, Alex, walking toward us. Emma—an old friend from college I still texted occasionally but hadn’t seen in months—was waving enthusiastically, dragging Alex along like she’d just found treasure.

Lu straightened beside me, his arm still draped casually around my shoulders, and shot me a quick glance. His raised eyebrow said it all: Well, here we go.

“Emma! Hey!” I forced a cheerful smile, sitting up a little straighter but not moving out of Lu’s hold. I couldn’t, not without making it more awkward. “It’s been a while!”

“I know!” Emma practically beamed as she reached us, pulling me into a quick hug before taking a step back.

“I didn’t even know you were back in town!” I said.

Her eyes darted to Lu, and then back to me. “And I definitely didn’t know this was happening.”

My stomach flipped, the weight of her curiosity pressing down on me. I laughed—too quickly—and gestured between Lu and me. “Oh, yeah. It’s, uh...a recent development.”

A recent development. That was one way to put it. Another way would be a complete and utter lie that had just become significantly harder to manage.

Emma’s eyes widened like she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest gossip of the year. “I thought you’d still be attached at the hip but not this!”

She turned to Alex and he elbowed her lightly. “Didn’t I tell you? I always said they were too close to not end up together eventually!”

“You did,” she agreed, chuckling. “I think I owe you ten bucks.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up, the flush creeping all the way to my ears. Beside me, Lu’s lips twitched in amusement, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We were just taking a walk,” I said quickly, desperate to steer the conversation anywhere else.

But Emma wasn’t letting it go. “You know, at first I thought you two had some kind of unspoken thing going on. And then you told me—what was it you said?” She tapped her chin dramatically, as if trying to jog her memory. “Oh! Right. ‘He’s like my soulmate but strictly platonic’, wasn’t it?”

Lu let out a laugh, low and warm, and I shot him a warning glare. That, of course, only encouraged him. I couldn’t tell if the glint in his eyes was just amusement or something else but I didn’t have time to analyse it.

“Well,” he said smoothly, leaning back with that infuriating smirk of his, “she wasn’t wrong about the soulmate part.”

Emma clasped her hands together, grinning like she’d just read the happy ending of a romance novel. “See? I knew it! I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Emma. It’s, uh...been nice,” I said, my smile stretched so tight it might have cracked.

“We should catch up soon. I want all the details,” Emma added, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

“Of course!” I chirped, already mentally plotting how to avoid that conversation.

Emma finally let herself be pulled along by Alex, her smile radiant as she waved over her shoulder. “It was so good to see you two! You look amazing together!”

I managed to smile, but something about her words clung to me. Did we?

As soon as they were out of earshot, I slumped back against the bench, groaning softly. “I cannot believe that just happened.”

Lu’s laugh rang out beside me, his arm slipping from my shoulders as he stretched out along the back of the bench. “I think it went pretty well.”

I turned to glare at him, though I knew there was no real bite to it. “I cannot believe you called yourself my soulmate.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into that smug grin I both hated and couldn’t help but find endearing. “Technically, it was you who called me your soulmate. I’m just going along with it.”

I groaned again, burying my face in my hands. “Remind me to never tell Emma anything ever again.”

Lu nudged me with his shoulder. “Oh, come on. Admit it—it was kind of funny.”

Peeking at him through my fingers, I sighed heavily. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, grinning, “you insist on keeping me around.”

As Emma and Alex disappeared into the distance, Lu turned to me, his smirk firmly in place. I knew that look, and I knew nothing good ever followed it.

“So,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief, “what else have you been telling people about me? Should I be worried?”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Please don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” he said, shifting on the bench to face me fully. “Come on, soulmate. Spill. Do you go around telling people I’m secretly in love with you too? Or maybe that I cry during rom-coms?”

“You do cry during rom-coms.”

“Excuse you, but people who don’t cry during Notting Hill are soulless.”

I laughed. “I don’t know, it’s not like I go around making speeches about you.”

“People have always been curious about us. If you’ve been calling me your soulmate—strictly platonic, of course—I can only imagine what other gems you’ve been dropping.”

My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt as I hesitated. “Honestly? I don’t really talk about you like that.” I glanced at him, my expression softening. “But... I have told people you’re the person I trust most. Like, if I need to hide a body at 3am you’ll show up with a shovel no questions asked. That you’re always there for me no matter what.”

Lu blinked, the teasing fading from his face as something quieter, almost vulnerable, took its place. When he spoke, his voice had lost its usual lightness, and became softer. “Oh.”

“When I’m having the worst days you always know how to make everything better without me having to ask. I tell them you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“That’s… actually really nice to hear.”

I smiled, nudging his knee with mine. “Your turn. What do you tell people about me?”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I tell them you’re my arch-nemesis and that I only keep you around to plot your eventual downfall.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. His gaze softened as he looked at me, his smile less mischievous now. “I tell people you’re brilliant. And stubborn. And probably the funniest person I know.” He paused, his voice dropping just a little. “I also tell them you’re the only person who really gets me. Like, in a way no one else does.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavier than I expected. I knew Lu and I understood each other deeply. That wasn’t new. But hearing him say it—out loud, like it was something undeniable—made my chest feel too tight.

I stared at him, the usual playfulness between us fading into something... deeper. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, I reached over and laced my fingers through his again, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Lu looked down at our hands, then back up at me, his smile returning, this time softer, more genuine. “See? It’s not so bad, being my soulmate.”

I groaned, the warmth in my cheeks betraying me. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never,” he said, kissing my hair. That gesture was so brief and familiar it should have meant nothing. But it did. It did, and I wasn’t quite ready to think about why.

I shook my head to pretend I was annoyed at him, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. As we sat there, fingers intertwined and the sounds of the park fading into the background, it felt... easy. Maybe too easy.

“Hey, Lu?” I said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his focus still on his thumb brushing my skin.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyebrows raised as he gave me a curious look. “So we're really leaning into that, huh?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I didn’t look away. “I’m serious. Do you?”

He leaned back, letting my hand rest in his lap as he considered it. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “I think... If soulmates are real, it’s not just about love. Not about romance or some magical ‘meant to be’ thing. It’s more about finding someone who just... fits. Someone who makes everything feel a little less complicated.”

I nodded slowly, his words settling somewhere deep in my soul. “That makes sense.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “What about you? Do you believe in that?”

I hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “I used to,” I admitted quietly. “I thought I’d found mine once.”

His brows furrowed, concern flickering in his expression. “Really?”

“You remember Mike, the guy I was dating when we met? You know, before Eric?”

“Vaguely,” he nodded. “I only met him a few times.”

“Yeah. I thought he was it.” I shrugged. “He made me laugh, he made me feel special... and then it all fell apart.” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “I really thought I was going to spend my life with him. But looking back, I don’t think he ever really... knew me. Not the way you do.”

Lu’s grip on my hand tightened just slightly, his voice softer now. “I remember how much it hurt when it ended. But I never realized it was that deep for you.”

I gave him a small, sad smile. “I didn’t let you see how bad it was. You already did so much just being there for me—I didn’t want to dump everything on you.”

“You could’ve,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “I would’ve been okay with that.”

“I know.” I paused, exhaling slowly. “That’s the thing, though. You’re the one person I don’t want to burden. You’re... different.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on our joined hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than I’d ever heard it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”

I blinked, startled. “Never?”

Lu shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Nope. I’ve dated, sure, but... it’s never felt like something I couldn’t live without. It’s like, the closer I get to someone, the more scared I get of giving them too much of me. Love... it always seems to end with someone getting hurt. And I’ve never been ready to take that risk.”

I looked at him again, this time with something closer to understanding. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready?”

“Maybe.” His expression was unreadable. “If I find the right person.”

Something painful tightened in my chest. “Well, when you do, let me know. I’ll have to approve of them, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he agreed, his smile widening. And then, quietly, he added, “There’s only one person I’ve ever even considered spending my life with.”

He tilted his head, almost as if to search my eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. I didn’t need to ask who he meant. The way he was looking at me said it all.

“Not in a romantic way, necessarily, but just... someone I know I can trust. Someone I know will never break my heart.”

“Oh Lu...” I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

He cut me off with a soft smile. “Don’t. It’s not a big deal. It’s just the way things are. You’re... safe, Cate. You always have been.”

My chest stung, emotions swirling inside me too fast to untangle. I didn’t really know what to say, so I settled for squeezing his hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re safe for me too, you know.”

The weight of the moment hung between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore. I wasn’t sure what compelled me to move closer, but I did. I lifted my hand, pausing only for a heartbeat before reaching up to slip my fingers into his hair. It was soft, a little messy from the breeze, and the familiar gesture grounded me in a way nothing else could.

Lu closed his eyes briefly, leaning ever so slightly into my touch. Then I let my hand slide down to rest on his shoulder, just below his neck. I shifted closer until our sides were pressed together, and without thinking, I brushed my nose against his cheek. His breath hitched—just barely, just enough for me to notice.

The warmth of his skin sent a shiver through me, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “You’re safe,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.

He turned his head just enough to look at me, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it. “Cate…” he started, his voice low and reverent, but whatever he was about to say faded.

Instead, we just sat there, my arm draped over him and my head leaning against his. His hand came to rest just above my knee, with his thumb stroking lazy patterns as always. The noise of the park seemed to fade, the rest of the world falling away until it was just us.

And for a moment, it didn’t matter that this was supposed to be an act. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

Because this? This was real.

I let my eyes close for a second, breathing him in—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of him. It was effortless, the kind of comfort that didn’t ask for permission because it didn’t need to.

“See?” he murmured. “This is why we don’t have to overthink it.”

I tilted my head up slightly, my temple still resting against his cheek. “What?”

“This,” he said, giving my leg the lightest squeeze. “Being close. Acting like a couple. If we just don’t overthink it, it’ll come naturally.”

I exhaled a soft laugh. “You’re saying we just have to keep doing what we’re already doing?”

“Basically.”

I hummed, considering that. He had a point. No one would question a thing if we just carried ourselves like this—like we belonged close, like we fit.

A new thought wormed its way into my head, and before I could talk myself out of it, I asked, “Do you think there’ll be a moment at the party where we’ll have to kiss?”

Lu went still for half a second. Then I felt the slow rise of his chest as he inhaled.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I mean, it might be expected at some point. Depends on the circumstances, I guess.”

I shifted just enough to glance up at him. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on me hadn’t loosened.

“Would it be weird?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

He was quiet for a moment, like he was turning the idea over in his mind. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Would it bother you? To kiss me?”

I let out a soft laugh, leaning my head fully against his shoulder again. “I don't think so. Would it bother you?”

His thumb moved absentmindedly against my thigh, a barely-there gesture. “No,” he said quietly. “Not really.”

My fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt for a while, my gaze distant as my mind worked through something I couldn’t quite name.

Finally, I broke the silence, my tone deliberately casual. “You know... maybe we should just get it over with.”

Lu turned to me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Get what over with?”

I looked at him like the answer was obvious. “The kiss.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he blinked at me. “The kiss?”

“Yes,” I said, sitting up straighter, my arms crossing over my chest as if to bolster my argument. “I mean, think about it. It’ll probably happen tomorrow, right? And if we just... do it now, it won’t be weird when it does. We’ll already know what to expect.”

Lu stared at me, his lips parting as though he was about to protest, but no words came out. Finally, he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” I replied, fixing him with a challenging look. “You’re the one who wanted to rehearse everything. This is just... another part of the act. Right?”

He leaned back against the bench, brushing a hand through his hair. “Cate, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my kisses have been described as addictive. If you end up hooked, that’s on you.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “Addictive, huh? Well, just so you know, I kissed a guy once, and he was so overwhelmed his knees nearly buckled. So honestly, this is just as dangerous for you.”

Lu barked out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, and shook his head. “Oh, really? Are we comparing stats now?”

I smirked, leaning in slightly. “All I’m saying is, if one of us ends up regretting this, it’s not gonna be me.”

For a moment, he just looked at me, the teasing glint in his eyes softening as he realized I wasn’t backing down. He exhaled, his smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Alright,” he said finally, shifting to face me. “If you’re so sure about this, let’s do it. But just so we’re clear—when you fall in love with me after this, I’m still going to blame you.”

My heart was suddenly pounding in my chest, but I kept my voice steady. “Deal.”

We moved closer, our legs pressed together, and the playful atmosphere gave way to something quieter, heavier. My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back again, and I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat.

“Okay,” I said softly, my voice more breathless than I intended.

“Okay,” he echoed. His tone was easy, but his eyes flicked down to my lips.

I knew this was probably a terrible idea. But instead of pulling back, I leaned in. I didn’t want to second-guess myself any more than I already had.

He met me halfway and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

His lips were warm and soft, the kiss unhurried and careful. Not exactly tentative, just thoughtful. Like he was as aware as I was of how this could change things.

It lasted a few seconds, long enough for my hand to find its way back to his shoulder, for his thumb to brush absently against my shin. It was enough to make my stomach flip and my pulse race, like every inch of my skin was crackling with electricity.

We pulled back, almost at the same time. When I opened my eyes, his were still closed. He inhaled slowly, like he needed a second to ground himself before facing me again.

“Well?” I asked. I tried to sound casual even though my heart was racing. I failed.

He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Not bad. I can see how someone’s knees might buckle.”

I laughed, swatting his arm. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “You might be dangerous after all.”

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips despite myself. “Well, now you know what to expect. No excuses if you mess it up tomorrow.”

“Mess it up?” Lu scoffed, leaning back with a confident grin. “Cate, if anything, I’m going to steal the show.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. Then I leaned against him again, settling my head back on his shoulder. His warmth was a steady presence, grounding me. My hand rested on his chest, fingertips lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt.

And then I felt it.

His heartbeat. Fast, unsteady, thumping against my palm.

I didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. I just let the feeling sink in, the thrum of him beneath my hand, trying to make sense of everything.

But the longer I stayed there, the more I noticed. The more I felt. His breath, shallow but even. The way his muscles tensed slightly under my hand. How he didn’t seem to notice that his heart was racing.

And how, despite the way it made me feel—like I might be on the edge of something huge—I couldn’t bring myself to mention it. I didn’t want to overthink.

We just sat there, quiet and still, as if the world hadn’t quite caught up with what had just happened. We both pretended it was just another rehearsal, a necessary part of the act. But as the silence settled around us and the moment stretched out, I couldn’t deny that something had shifted between us. I couldn’t quite shake the way my lips still tingled from his.

And the way he looked at me—like he was thinking the exact same thing—only made it harder to ignore. He didn't say anything either. He didn't have to.

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