Love And Deepspace Rafayel - Blog Posts

wrath of the sea god

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

♱⋅── about: Rafayel is a creature worthy of worship. Something born from the deep sea, something incomprehensible, something that should scare you. And yet his siren song only lulls you in closer, and you fear it may be too late to even think about running away. (deep sea monster!rafayel)

♱⋅── word count: 5.9k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, inhuman raf, possessiveness, overstimulation, worship, breeding kink, tw yandere, tw drowning, tw teratophilia, tw thalassophobia

art credit to @/hcneyvae on x, dividers by @cafekitsune

psst, if you want more monster!raf read this next

What does it mean, to drown in something?

To watch the surface break above you, disrupted by the last bubbles of oxygen leaving your lungs, like a lover’s final kiss. To feel the vicious urge to fight, to struggle, to scream even as you feel your final dregs of strength escape, leaving you cold and gnawing and alone. To not feel fear, because even as your vision goes dark the melody is still there, the voice still singing, cradling you gently as you draw blood. To know, perhaps, that drowning was the only way this story could have ended. 

What does it mean, when I kiss you and finally feel like I can breathe again, even if you were the reason I sank in the first place?

Rafayel has been nothing if not the perfect boyfriend. Clingy, annoying, hopelessly devoted, but perfect for you nonetheless. 

Three months into your relationship, and you’ve begun to notice things that are only just slightly… Off.

For one, Rafayel runs terrifyingly cold, and the baths he gives himself twice a day are even colder than he is, and when he teasingly splashes you with it you scream, complaining he’s soaking in the arctic or the depths of the ocean’s abyss.

But the approach of summer means more baths, more moisturizers, and more of poor Rafayel always complaining about how it’s too hot, too dry. His skin gets bumpy, rough, textured patches growing on the sides of his neck, his arms, down his ribs too. Like something coming to the surface, something cracking through the flesh. 

The list of anomalies goes on.

His joints bend just a little too much, his fingers curving at unnatural angles when he moves quickly or reaches for something. His spine rolls more like an eel or a shark than a human’s, like a creature still adjusting to having bones, something he brushes off as old habits from dance or ice skating. Whenever you take flash photos his eyes come out hollow, even the faintest glimmer makes them shimmer like something not meant for the surface. 

It’s becoming more common to catch Rafayel slipping now, uncanny moments where he fumbles and slows down, repeating certain movements or habits, as though remembering them. Reminding himself of them. 

You’re lounging on the couch in his studio, your legs kicked up onto his lap as Rafayel holds a book in one hand, the other caressing your ankle with the gentle rub of his thumb. Something prickles against the back of your neck and you look up over your phone, expecting to see Rafayel still engrossed in his reading. Instead, he’s staring down at you. Watching you, unblinking, for so long that your skin begins to crawl. 

At first, you don’t really mind— willingly lost in the warmth of his gaze, the way it seems to hold so much unspoken devotion, the way his pupils dilate viciously when you finally meet his gaze. But then minutes pass. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t break eye contact.

"Raf," you say, laughing a little, trying to shake the unease creeping up your spine. "You're staring."

His lips quirk, just slightly. "Am I? Can’t help it, cutie."

You hum, expecting him to look away. He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, something you’ve always considered adorable, the way his full lips pout and innocent doe eyes seem to plead up into yours, studying you with an intensity that makes your chest tighten.

Then you realize what’s wrong.

"Blink," you whisper, suddenly uncertain if he's forgotten how.

He does, slow and deliberate, like he’s remembering only because you told him. And when his eyes open again, they shine, hollow and flat, reflecting the dim light of the room like something that doesn’t belong in the light.

“Shit!” 

This is the last time you cut steak with a dull knife. 

It’s nothing severe, but you must have nicked a vein in your thumb, because the damn countertop is splattered with blood, a thick stream of it nearly at your wrist as you run for a paper towel. 

Rafayel was supposed to be by the stove, tending to the vegetables busy sauteing, but when you move to rip a sheet from the dowel, you find yourself bumping into him headfirst. How did he manage to cross the kitchen so fast?

His gaze flicks to your hand, brows furrowed. You follow it, noticing the vibrant red already soaking through all the layers of makeshift gauze. Maybe you cut yourself deeper than you though.

"It’s nothing, Rafayel," you say, knowing how worked-up he can get when you injure yourself, fully expecting a dramatic lecture later. 

Turning, you step to throw away the bloody napkins when his fingers close around your wrist too fast. Too tight. Rafayel’s pupils dilate, nearly turning his entire eye black as his body physically follows the trail of blood down your wrist, lips parting just slightly as if—

As if he’s tasting the scent of your blood on his tongue.

"Rafayel," you call to him again, voice shaking. Why is your voice shaking?

He blinks, slow, as if waking from something deep. His grip loosens, but his fingers linger, his thumb dragging just barely across your pulse against the inside of your wrist before he exhales a quiet, low sound from deep in his chest. Something between a sigh and a growl.

“You really should be more careful, miss hunter. You could get hurt next time.”

Neither of you notice the slight acrid smell of something burning in the background. 

The next time it happens late at night. 

After spending the weekend lazing in each other's company, the two of you decided to end the day with a movie, drifting from various positions on the couch to curling up against Rafayel’s chest, the soft glow of the TV flickering across the room. The credits are rolling, low music humming beneath the sound of his steady, rhythmic breathing. He’s cold, almost unnaturally so, compared to the sticky, sweltering summer night air, but you can only be thankful for that fact as his chill and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into something hazy, that liminal space where thoughts slip too easily from your grasp.

When suddenly, it just stops. Rafayel’s body goes still beneath your touch. 

No breath. No movement.

Just complete and utter stillness.

It doesn’t register at first, not fully. Still feigning sleep, you fight to keep your own exhales even, purposefully holding your breath to get your heart to calm from its erratic skip, the hairs on your arms prickling, some primal part of you sensing it before your mind catches up. Wrong.

You shift slightly, pretending to be lost in a dream, just enough to press closer to his chest, to feel the gentle rhythm of where his lungs should be. Wrong.

But nothing comes. Rafayel’s chest does not rise, his heartbeat does not echo against your cheek. The only movement is the gentle circling of his fingers against the tender flesh of your ribs, tracing the curve of bone. Other than that, he is completely, utterly motionless beneath you, the kind of eerie stillness that isn’t possible for a human. A stillness reserved for hunters, for predators. Wrong. 

Something is wrong.

Your pulse kicks, a sharp, violent thud-thud-thud against your ribs, under the tips of Rafayel’s fingers, and in that instant—

Rafayel breathes again.

A slow, deep inhale as if rousing from sleep. His arm tightens around your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt as he shifts beneath you, stretching out his long limbs with an exaggerated yawn like nothing happened at all.

“You still awake?” His voice is drowsy, laced with warmth, so natural you almost believe it.

You nod, pressing closer, trying to shake the creeping chill settling in your bones. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you were too tired, caught somewhere between dreaming and waking, your mind playing tricks on you. You were simply tired from the long week. Simply haunted by nightmares that no longer exist. 

But you feel it. The way Rafayel’s fingers idly stroke over your side, slow and soothing, almost seeking out your own heartbeat as close as he could get to it. The way he breathes too deliberately now, a flawless imitation of what he thinks you expect to hear. A rhythm that’s just a little too shallow, a little too perfect. 

Then, there’s something prodding and coaxing into your brain, and instantly, the feeling of calm returns. But your pulse does not slow, because the thought has already settled in the back of your mind, something cold and certain.

He didn’t start breathing again for his sake.

He did it for yours.

Rafayel must have been sculpted by divine hands. A Greek statue given breath, something carved from impossibly white marble and polished by time itself. 

His is a kind of beauty that isn’t soft or gentle, but arresting, almost violently so. One that makes your breath hitch every time he turns to face you, all sharp cheekbones and full lips, somewhere devastatingly between beautiful and handsome, possessing every muscled curve of a swimmer’s body honed by centuries in the depths. It isn’t just his face, his form, his effortless strength. It’s the way he moves. Angelic and otherworldly— graceful, powerful, always with the effortless magnificence of the ocean itself.

And, of course, his voice.

He hums under his breath sometimes, a habit he seems to be letting slip the longer the two of you are together, barely audible in the quiet hours when you’re cooking or painting or lounging together. At first you mistook it for an old record or the echoing sound of the ocean from the open balcony doors, and when you ask him about if Rafayel simply laughs it off, the sound addicting enough that soon you’re laughing too.

But on late nights after sex you hear him humming again, something absentminded and indulgent, like the sound exists only for his own amusement. And for yours. 

Oh, but when Rafayel sings, it’s something else entirely. It’s after an opera the first time you heard it, and any memory of the show prior is dissolved into a monotonous drivel at the music Rafayel makes. You swear you felt it in your ribs, melody settling beneath your skin, an ancient song that spoke to your soul in ways that left you dizzy and aching and yearning for something you couldn’t name. 

It left you hungry.

And still, Rafayel’s paintings hurt the most.

Each one nearly brought to life with each brushstroke, enough that you swear you can hear the crash of waves or the sharp sting of sea-salt, each one that brings a deep, unknowable sorrow and guilt to your core. Each one hurts to look at a little more than the last. 

There’s one painting in particular that hangs in his studio, larger than the rest. A towering, floor-to-ceiling masterpiece of muted blues and violent reds, brushstrokes slashing across the canvas with all the power of a storm at sea.

At first, you think it’s simply a shipwreck.

Then you’re lured in closer.

Bodies tangled in the waves, limbs limp and reaching. Some still clutching weapons, some are already swallowed by the dark. But every single figure seems perfectly content, relaxed, embracing death as they are lulled—just like you just like you—to the sirens below.

They are not the innocent beauties of fairy tales. They are terrible, glorious, vicious beings. Something between human and god, their bodies half-submerged, lips parted in a song you cannot hear but can still feel, something clawing at your heart, begging you to listen. Begging you to come closer. 

And Rafayel is among them.

It takes you a moment to recognize him, but once you do, you cannot unsee it. The slant of his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheekbone, his lips curled not in hunger, not in rage, but in something unreadable. Something almost mournful.

"Do you like it, cutie?" His voice startles you.

You turn, pulse jumping, but Rafayel’s only watching you with that same lopsided smile, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He looks like part of a masterpiece himself, bare shoulders kissed by the low light, the soft glow catching on his collarbones, his throat, his hands. 

"They were hunted." Not a question.

A laugh. Short, humorless. "Of course they were, don’t you know Lemurians cry pearls?"

Your fingers tighten at your sides, but nothing you could think of saying seemed appropriate. After all, what did you possibly have to offer a mourning god? 

You look back at the painting. "And worshipped?"

Rafayel’s gaze lingers on the canvas for a long moment before sliding back to you, eyes failing to reflect the light of the sun as he tucks himself into your embrace, pulling you close. You swallow hard, body naturally yielding to relax into his embrace. You’re not prey, and yet, something in you screams at you to run.

"Is there a difference?"

You don’t answer. 

You think of the way he moves, the way he sings, the way your breath catches every time he looks at you, the way you could drown in the depths of his eyes, the cloudless blue like the ocean at dawn, stained with a red more vibrant than blood. Like a shipwreck. Like a massacre. 

“Would you worship me, cutie?” Rafayel purrs against the shell of your ear, nipping the tender flesh. Your knees buckle, and you’re already kneeling before him, looking up at those same eyes as he smiles at your answer. 

You already do.

You’ve been noticing gaps in your memory.

Not big ones. Nothing you can really say for certain, just little things, things you used to chalk up to your goldfish memory. Forgetting why you stood up. Losing track of time mid-conversation. Finding yourself already doing something before you even register why.

And it always—always—happens when Rafayel is speaking to you.

It’s never forceful. Never obvious. But there’s always a soft hum in his voice, a subtle pull in the melody beneath his words.

You don’t even remember when he began doing it, and that might be what frightens you most. 

You’ve always been weak for Rafayel, giving in as soon as he pouts and complains about how he might die of neglect, how he just needs you so badly, and how, oh, won’t you do this for him? There’s no command. No sharp pull at your mind, no unnatural force prying into your thoughts. Just his voice, smooth and honeyed, curling around your resolve like the tide creeping onto the shore. Gentle. Patient. And before you even notice, you're waist-deep, sinking into something you can’t quite name.

"Let’s go to the beach," Rafayel suggests, fingers lazily tracing patterns against your thigh.

You frown down at him, in the midst of filling out a hunter’s report when he snatches your computer away, replacing it with his own head plopping down in your lap. 

You glance at the clock, it’s already six pm. Late, not to mention the drive is an hour away. And you have a mission early in the morning.

"I can’t," you say.

He hums, thoughtful. "Mm. No, of course not." He turns his head, pulling your sleep shirt up just enough to kiss your stomach, lips cool against your skin, grazing your hip as he speaks. "But," a pause. A slow, indulgent breath. "Wouldn’t it be nice? Just us. Moonlight on the waves. I could take you out past the shallows, show you things no other human has ever seen."

You close your eyes. You can picture it too easily. The salt in the air, the sound of the tide pulling you both forward. His hands on you, weightless in the water, his voice a hum against your throat. A melody entering your brain. 

"It’s a Tuesday," you murmur, weaker now.

Rafayel begins sitting up, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "So what?" Another to your jaw, "Work is so boring, you don’t need it anymore. Not when you’re with me." You feel him smile, sucking a mark right against your pulse. "It’ll be worth it, promise."

You should say no.

You should.

You should shut out the idea of indulging him, of the welcoming feel of sand beneath your toes and the gentle curl of the tide. And how nice the fading sunlight feels on your skin. Because you’re already standing at the shoreline, waves licking at your ankles, the city far, far behind you. Rafayel’s fingers laced with yours, his smile easy, teasing as he pulls you forward. 

You don’t remember driving here.

Your pulse stutters. "Rafayel."

He turns to you, eyes dark, unreadable, his mouth curving into a wide smile, a sweet gummy one that has too many teeth. Rows upon rows, like a shark’s, gone by the time you blink. "Yes, my muse?"

You swallow hard. The words tangle on your tongue, and you forget, just for a moment, why you were about to say them.

But the worst is when he begs.

Because it doesn’t feel unnatural, it doesn’t feel wrong.

Because it feels good.

You don’t realize how much you’re giving him until your body won't stop trembling, until you’re wrecked and obedient, until he’s cooing praise against your skin like you’re something precious. 

“Can’t–” you sob, barely getting the word out. “Can’t cum again. Please, Raf, Raf, please don’t.”

Your hands scramble for his head, still buried between your thighs, tugging violently against those sweat-slick strands of hair as you all but scream as he whines into your cunt in protest.

You’ve lost track of how many times he’s made you come, lost track of how long you’ve been beneath him, beneath his touch, beneath the spell of his voice. Time means nothing, just a rhythm of sensation and need.

All that you can feel is the hot layer of sweat making the sheets stick to the sharp arch in your back, the painful overstimulation of your clit as Rafayel moves to suckle against it once more, lapping greedily as you kick and push at his shoulders with a cry. You can’t take it, not again, not when you’re already raw and aching and falling apart.

"Just one more time, cutie," he begs, relenting just long enough to kiss your marked-up thigh. "Please? Look s’cute like this, taste even sweeter."

Rafayel’s pale skin glows faintly where his lips brush yours, a ripple of bioluminescence that pulses in time with your heartbeat. The dull blue light blooming along his veins, casting soft, eerie shadows across the sheets, a reminder of the alien beauty woven into his flesh and blood.

You’re sobbing, shaking your head as the entire room spins around you even without the extra stimulation. But Rafayel simply unlaces your poor trembling hands from his hair, unfurling your fists and kissing your palm before intertwining your fingers together, pinning them to the bed as he leans in closer. His hands are cold, an icy restraint to your feverish skin, and you shiver, goosebumps prickling along your arms.

"Last time, promise."

You don’t believe him. You shouldn’t.

But Rafayel’s voice is addictive, liquid gold, sinking into your skin, forcing you to relax against him just enough for his mouth to reacquaint itself with your swollen clit, immediately making you scream again as your hips mindlessly buck, writhing to get away, to find mercy from his touch as you fight to hold onto the last scraps of your fraying resolve.

“Don’t.” His voice is a purr, a low warning against your flesh as his hand tightens, pressing your wrists together, bruising. “Don’t run from me. Don’t make me chase you.”

Your body stills, responding to his command before you can even process what he's said. Surrendering as he hooks your ankles around his neck, forcing you up onto your shoulders as his tongue delves back into your cunt, curling inside you, savoring every spasm, every quiver. It’s a slow, indulgent kiss, his tongue is colder than his lips, drooling and messy as he brings you closer and closer to the edge for the nth time. 

"You’d never leave me right?" His voice once again sings like a promise against your skin. "You can’t. You wouldn’t, she’s too sweet for that—" His nose grinds against your clit and you moan, seizing. "Always so needy, always taking me so well. Practically made to worship me."

You're babbling nonsense now, incoherent. Rafayel coos, kissing you through it, one hand never letting go of yours as the other greedily gropes up the plush of your ass, your breasts, and he watches with rapt fascination as you arch for him. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, and wonders absentmindedly how it is you humans produce milk. How he could get you to do that for him.

A deep trill vibrates through him at the thought, more felt than heard, a sound that curls around your ribs and settles there. 

“You know that you’re mine, don’t you?” he breathes, voice dipping lower, “Mine. Made for me. Nothing else in this world could satisfy you like I do. You’ll never need another god.”

Rafayel’s words slip into you, twisting through your mind, settling like truth in your core. And just like that you shudder, body tensing, and you’re cumming again, hard.

Squirting across Rafayel’s awaiting mouth and jaw as you scream his name like a prayer, cum dripping down his heaving chest. Rafayel moans, lapping at the mess, and you feel his devotion in the way his entire body trembles as he consumes you, as he claims you, his offering, his sacrifice. His beloved bride.

His fingers subconsciously trace your empty ring finger. Worshiping it, memorizing it.

You don’t even realize you’re still nodding as his fingers loosen their grip on your thighs, finally setting you back down on the bed as a pleased little sound spills from his lips. His tongue drags up your limp body, lazy and lingering, kissing every inch of you, bringing your hand up to kiss your ring finger as well.

Nuzzling his face between your breasts, Rafayel looks up at you, eyes glowing, too bright, too colorful, too gorgeously inhuman.

When sensation finally returns to your legs, the haze of pleasure fading and your breath evening out, you’re revolted by the feeling of something releasing its hold on your mind. Shuddering, you press a hand to your temple, trying to shake off the eerie feeling of something slipping out of your head.

Rafayel watches you, tilting his head, his fingers brushing lightly down your arm as he pushes himself up on his elbows. Grabbing your chin, he swallows any questions you might have asked, kissing you with the same reverence he did your clit and every inch of your body before, the taste of you still on his tongue. When he pulls away, his expression is soft, almost tender, even as his hand curls back around your ankle, a possessive shackle.

“You’ll never need another god,” he repeats, the words sinking into your bones, echoing in your mind. His fingers tighten, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Because you’re mine.”

And yet, you’re the one who can’t seem to breathe without him.

You suppose it should scare you, knowing Rafayel isn’t human. Even if you have yet to understand what a Lemurian really is or wants, what Rafayel’s true form really looks like, what or who truly resides in him. 

You suppose it should scare you that despite not knowing any of this, you listen to his every whim regardless. 

The ocean is calm tonight, with the full moon hanging directly overhead and her silver providing the only light over rolling waves. You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, weightless in the gentle pull of the tide, safe knowing Rafayel couldn’t be far away. He never is. 

At least, you can only assume that’s still the case. Since the ocean itself is dark enough that it blends in with the horizon, dark enough that you wouldn’t be able to see your own toes should you stop floating, the only sounds are the gentle crashing of waves on the distant shore. 

Rafayel was untraceable in the water, his powerful twenty-foot-something Lemurian form outpacing yours as soon as he hit the water, cutting through the black waves with a grace that should be impossible for a creature of that size. That was nearly an hour ago, and only an occasional singing that seemed to both surround you and come from deep within the ocean served as reminders that your lover was never far away.

There it is again, that distant sorrowful song, and you try and hum along, not realizing how far from shore you’ve drifted. 

Something brushes your ankle.

Jolting upright, you spit out a bit of salt water from your scare, scanning the horizon as you tread water. Rafayel is nowhere in sight.

Of course you don't even realize he's been circling you, tail cutting above the waves before twisting around your kicking legs. Laughter echoes into the night, sweet and addicting, enough to have your body relax involuntarily into the cold rock of the waves. Enough to send every other sea creature swimming away in terror.

Then, warmth. Hands, familiar and steady, slide up your bare ribs. There wasn’t even so much as a splash as Rafayel swims closer, arms pulling you in tight, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck as you feel the entire length of his tail tighten like a coil around your body. He could drown you before you'd even remember to scream.

Rafayel kisses up your neck, savoring the taste of sea salt, arousal, and fear against the broad, cold length of his tongue. It feels rougher than usual. 

“Need you, cutie.” A trill, something deep and low, vibrating in his chest as his entire body tightens its grip around you. Grinding up against you. “Need you s’bad.”

His voice is a low, syrupy murmur, words dripping into your ear with the same fluid grace as his body winding around yours. You shudder, pulse thrumming as the coil of his tail tightens, the powerful muscle shifting against your skin, keeping you perfectly in place. The realization should terrify you. Perhaps it should terrify you more that it doesn’t. 

But Rafayel’s still nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and jaw as that soft, mournful hum resonates from his chest. The sound vibrates through your bones, familiar and soothing, seeping into your mind as easily as seawater through the crevices of a sinking ship.

You shiver, the sensation of his touch and the water deliciously cold against the heat pooling in your belly.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, turning you so you straddle only a fraction of his enormous tail, clinging to his shoulders and the scales that now rest there. “Hate that you can’t swim with me, can’t see my home.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, the same playful lightness you’ve heard a thousand times. But beneath it lies a deep, aching hunger that has his clawed fingers pressing into your ribs, hard enough to draw blood.

“I-It’s not exactly possible,” you stammer, voice shaking, breathless, the world narrowing to the feel of his enormous body wrapped around yours, the prodding of something slimy and thick between your legs, the soft vibration of his hum still echoing inside your head. “I can’t breathe underwater like you, Rafayel.”

He pouts at that, tail flexing, shifting, and you feel two other appendages begin to caress your thighs, gently snaking around them. Not that you could see what exactly they were, not with how impossibly dark the ocean is, left completely to his mercy. 

“Poor little human,” Rafayel coos, feigning sympathy as his hands begin to wander, cupping and squeezing roughly at your breasts. A constant fascination he excuses for the fact that fish don’t produce milk and thus have no need for such… interesting appendages. “Your silly human body isn’t much fun. Too fragile. I can fix that.”

His words send a chill through you, something prickling at your spine—but then his lips are on yours, firm and insistent, stealing the breath from your lungs as his fingers tangle in your hair. His inhumanly long tongue invades your mouth, rough and tasting of salt and sea, and you melt, hands clawing into his shoulders as he swallows your moan, fucking his tongue down your throat. 

His tail shifts again, something sharp nicking your inner thigh as you gasp into the kiss, only allowing Rafayel to press in closer, deeper, grinding against your core.

Your body reacts on instinct, earning another low trill, hips rolling to meet the pressure, Rafayel’s hands still busy pleasuring your chest as something else forces your legs wider, guiding his cock to grind against you once, twice, fighting the tense ring of muscle as you quiver. 

“Please, cutie. Please let me in, my sweet darling. Please, please,” he’s rambling, begging so sweetly into your lips as you feel the jagged cut of his teeth trace down your neck, collarbone, grazing your nipple, licking up the drops of blood as your flesh splits as easily as rotten fruit on the edge of a knife. “So good to me. Always so good to me.”

You barely recognize the moan that leaves your throat—something needy, desperate. And at that sound Rafayel shudders, something else writhing against your pussy as it suddenly pushes in, thrusting and sucking gently at your entrance before following a rhythm he knows will make you fall apart. 

“Rafayel, wait, cold. It’s cold—” 

“Shh, you’ll warm it up.”

You can only moan in response, clinging onto Rafayel like a lifeline as the ocean surges around the both of you, your limbs trembling and useless as one of Rafayel’s hands goes to circle your clit, matching the tempo of his thrusts as you come undone with a silent scream.

“Say it again for me,” he whispers, reverence dripping from every syllable. His eyes—too blue, too bright—burn into yours, possessive, adoring, hungry. And when he looks at you like that, how could you ever refuse? “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart stutters. There’s a pull, something deep and heavy, sinking into your chest. The hum returns, curling around your thoughts, coaxing you to say the words, to give him what he wants. What you both want.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping past your lips before you even realize it. “Yours.”

Rafayel’s pupils narrow into slits, and his mouth crashes against yours, hungry and savage. His tail tightens, grinding against you with purpose now, every slow roll of his hips sending another shockwave of pleasure through you, something else beginning to press up against you as well as the first intrusion begins to retreat from your poor overstimulated pussy. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, teeth scraping against your pulse, marking delicate skin of your throat. Something under the water coils tighter, pulling you closer, keeping you where you belong.

No. 

“Yes.”

His laughter is the last thing you hear, soft and sweet, washing away every other thought before the roar of the ocean swallows you whole.

The cold is instant, biting, sinking into your bones as the saltwater tears into your nose and mouth. Panic claws up your throat as your chest seizes, lungs heaving uselessly, instinctively, drawing in nothing but seawater.

Instinct demands you thrash, but Rafayel is there, hugging around you like a devoted lover, like a predator with his kill. He drags you down deeper, enraptured, scales scraping against your skin as his body locks you against him, pressing you against the seafloor as the two of you hit the bottom, soft sand floating under your back. 

How easy would it be, to leave you full of his brood and writhing, before dragging you to some island far, far away. 

He’s dazed at the thought, still inside you, still thrusting, still playing with your body as if you aren’t suffocating, as if the way you kick and claw at his back, nails tearing into flesh and fins, is only a sign of pleasure. You feel him shudder, and it isn’t just from the tight, helpless way you squeeze around him.

It’s your eyes that Rafayel can’t seem to look away from. They’re wide, wild, locked on his face with desperate, pleading terror. Adoration. Fear. Love.

So human, so fragile, and all you can focus on is him, the rest of the ocean blurring into a black abyss.

Rafayel adores it, finally being the epicenter of your attention. 

A low, pleased rumble vibrates through his chest, pupils blown wide, swallowing the blue of his eyes until they’re black and endless, reflecting your horrified face right back at you.

All the screaming has left you dizzy, and Rafayel moans, pushing deeper, grinding his enormous tail against your overstimulated clit as your throat convulses around a silent moan as you watch the bubbles leave your throat. 

Smiling, Rafayel’s lips curl, exposing sharp, jagged teeth, feeling each shudder, each pitiful, heaving spasm as your lungs beg for oxygen. He wonders how they must feel, those delicate sacks of air tightening, twisting inside you.

Pressing his palm against your chest, right over your heart, Rafayel feels the stuttering beat as it races then begins to falter, slowing to a delicate pulse under his touch. 

He could watch you like this forever.

Your nails rake down his arms, leaving raw, bloody scratches as the world begins to go dark. He shudders, his cock twitching inside you at the sting, the way you keep fighting even as your movements grow sluggish, your limbs growing heavy. Your chest heaves one last time, and then your eyes leave Rafayel’s, rolling back as your lips part in a silent prayer. 

No. No, don't look away from him.

It makes Rafayel frown, wanting your gaze focused on him alone, wanting your attention back. He wants it forever. His tail coils, possessive, hugging you tight with all the devotion of a human lover as he finally, finally leans in, pressing his mouth to yours.

His hands come down to caress your jaw, fangs nicking your lips as he forces them apart, kissing air back into your lungs. 

And you breathe in again, sobbing into the kiss, body trembling, clinging to Rafayel like he’s your lifeline. You do what he knew you would. You kiss him back. Desperate, dazed, pushing closer as though you don't realize there's no where else you could go, the deep, endless dark of the ocean yawning hungrily above you both. 

He's close, so close now. Body nearly aglow with that eerie, deep-sea light, casting shadows onto your body as you welcome him even now, desperate for warmth, for safety, for him.

“Mine,” Rafayel sings against your lips in a language you cannot understand. Savoring the way you still arch up to kiss him again and again, desperate for his air and his touch despite it all. Despite knowing what he is. Despite knowing what he wants. “My mate.”

When he finally cums he feels it breach your womb, he feels you swell with it, feels it stick with how eagerly your body welcomes him, his perfect little human.

And for the first time, you truly wonder if you were meant to survive loving something like him.

Pt 1

Continuation of the Selkie!Rafayel AU! 🦭🦭🦭 Save a seal, you may or may not accidentally acquire a clingy husband doing so

It’s 3am and i’m scared. 💀

WHERES HER EYE?!?!

🐠

Rafayel is the type of boyfriend to take you on a date to the aquarium and point at a fish and say “awww this one looks like you!” ☺️

And then the fish looks like this:

The love and deepspace brain rot is so real and all consuming T^T

I had to draw our favourite drama queen Rafayel <33

Excuse the low quality lololo

Fast drawing of this boy

Reblogs and comments are appreciated

Olvidé subir estos curis, voy a hacer más porque son muy divertidos

"A Jealous Encounter"

Short fanfic

Featuring: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier

(I feel like Zayne girlies would like this more, it also has little bromance)

A/N: I honestly don't know how I typed this but I kinda liked it 🤓 This is impulsive writing.

This is inspired from this video on tiktok:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFfyoHB7/

...

"Dr. Zayne! Please pass me the toy!"

Zayne's lips quirked a little and he bent to pick up the toy while at the same time also hiding his smile.

"Here you go"

*Swish*

"I got it!"

Rafayel suddenly appeared in front of MC and caught the toy instead and immediately Zayne's amusement turned into a scowl and slowly walked in a threatening manner towards the unsuspecting fish still celebrating his bounty and teasing MC on how he now got MC's toy.

"Uhm Raf-" She tried to warn the fish but the Icy snowman was already behind him.

Rafayel felt a hand firmly grab his shoulder and Zayne's deep voice spoke near his ear.

"It's rude to take someone's belongings"

Rafayel looked back at Zayne and chuckled nervously his eyes drifting back to MC who was starting to blush deep red probably because of how they look like to her perspective and he remembered that MC once mentioned that she kinda liked reading BL manhwas in the past and a wicked idea lit up in his head.

He slowly tilted his head back to stare at the doctor and purposely made his gaze sensual. "How about you do 'rude' things to me doc?"

"Uhm guys-" She tried to stop the incoming storm but she suddenly felt a head rest on her shoulder and come face to face with Xavier's sleeping face.

"Ugh Xavier, now is not the time to take your hourly nap" She was sweating now in nervousness because she felt the air thicken around the two guys who was about to start a wrestling match and are now glaring daggers at the sleepy boy beside her despite the fact that Zayne is at the process of restraining Rafayel with him having Raf's arm tight in his hold and twisting it so it's at an odd angle behind his back enough to make the Fish uncomfortable and submit.

Xavier, who is able to sleep even while standing nuzzled his head further on MC's shoulder causing Zayne to twist Rafayel's arm further and the latter let out a yelp and swiftly broke Zayne's hold on him and immediately came to MC and smacked Xavs head away from MC's shoulder. "Hey!"

Xavier stumbled and managed to regain his balance, while rubbing the sleep from his eye "W-what-?"

"Rafayel!" She reprimanded him and grabbed his shoulder but another hand settled on her shoulder and made her step back to come face to face with Zayne's back.

Zayne grabbed the back of Raf's collar which made him stumble back. "Hey watch it doc! This shirt is expensive"

"So are the medical expenses you'll get after I'm done with you" Zayne's icy gaze pointed at Rafayel before turning back at the clueless Xavier who was unaware of the impending danger of the Doctor's wrath about to rain on him.

"Hm?"

"Sleeping shouldn't be done while standing especially not on a girl's shoulder that is smaller than you" Zayne crossed his arms and glowered at Xavier.

Xavier tried to look at MC behind Zayne but the doctor's large frame is literally enough to cover the sight of MC in Xav's point of view. "Sorry about that doc."

Without hesitation, Xavier rested his head on Zayne's shoulder and proceeded to continue his nap there.

Rafayel bursts out laughing while the MC beside him is about to faint at the situation she's forced to witness.

Ugh he'll make me cry someday, such a loverboy 🥹🥹🥹

Rafayel, please don't disappear on me, you cannot do that 💔

Love and Deepspace - When a bunch of fictional characters care about you more than your own parents do.

Ya know guys, i’ve been thinking.

All these enemies to lovers tropes with sylus…but what if Mc Was JUST as Unhinged as her man?

should I write that fanfic? Just for fun?

RAFAYEL AS YOUR BOYFRIEND (TEXTS)

,, rafayel x gn! reader, established relationship, swearing, etc

,, cumbackk fr 😝 (here's the part 2 i promised, sorr for the delay)

SNEAK IN

Where rafayel sneaks in the dorms to get hold of you, as you both try and hide

Rafayel x gn! reader,, 1.5k ,, slight mature (making out!!)

“What are you doing here?” A panicked shriek escapes your lips as you spot Rafayel standing right outside your dorm. He shouldn’t be here. You both knew that.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the nearly empty hallway, cutting off any words you might have spoken as his eyes widened in fear. The first year of university was not the time to take risks that could ruin your future—not like this. And if Rafayel was caught in the dorms, there would be no talking your way out of it. The consequences would be severe.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, its screen casting a pale glow over both of your faces. Dread pooled in your stomach as you glanced at the notification—it was a warning about an intruder on campus. Rafayel. What you had feared was true. Maybe you’d jinxed it.

Rafayel plucked the phone from your hand, his eyes pleading with you, as if silently saying, save me this once, darling. Despite the danger, a smile tugged at your lips.

He’s here to see me.

Just like that, all the frustration you’d felt melted away, replaced by a warmth you couldn't deny. But the moment of softness didn’t last long. The warden’s footsteps were growing closer, her presence almost upon you. If she saw him now, it was over.

The warden’s footsteps echoed closer, but your mind raced even faster. There wasn’t much time, and if she found either of you now, there would be no way to explain why—Rafayel of all people—who shouldn’t be here was sneaking around the dorms.

Without thinking, you grabbed Rafayel’s hand and pulled him down the hall, your footsteps hushed and quick. The only sound left was the distant echo of the warden, growing fainter as you led him to safety.

Rafayel’s hand was warm in yours, his grip tight but comforting as you pulled him deeper into the shadows of the hallway. Your heart raced, not just from fear of being caught, but from the strange thrill that always accompanied him. You glanced back at him, a smile still playing on your lips despite the urgency of the situation. He was here. For you. And somehow, that made the risk worth it.

Your pulse quickened, but not just from the threat of getting caught. You were running through a maze of half-formed plans, trying to figure out where to hide him. "This way," you whispered, tugging him toward a stairwell at the end of the hall, just out of the warden’s sight. He followed without hesitation, his eyes still holding that playful glimmer even in the midst of the danger.

As the two of you slipped into the stairwell, the dim light flickering overhead, Rafayel’s breath was heavy in your ear. You pressed a finger to your lips, signaling for silence. The warden's footsteps grew louder, then paused—too close for comfort.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to keep your breathing steady. Rafayel stood close, his chest almost brushing yours, his heartbeat pounding just as loudly as yours. For a moment, the world outside vanished. It was just you and him in the narrow space, the heat of his body radiating into yours, his gaze locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I can’t believe you came here,” you murmured, not sure whether to scold him or laugh.

His lips quirked up into a smirk, and he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “I told you. I had to see you.”

The footsteps resumed, moving further away now. You let out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again. But before you could pull away, Rafayel’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with a gentleness that made your heart stumble.

“I knew you’d save me,” he whispered, his tone soft but filled with something deeper. "You always do."

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the danger of getting caught faded into the background. All you could focus on was how close he was, the way his gaze lingered on your lips, how his hand remained on your cheek, making your skin tingle in its wake.

“Rafayel…” You started to speak, but the words caught in your throat.

Before you could finish, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a sudden, soft kiss. It was quick, almost too quick, as if he couldn’t resist but didn’t want to push too far. When he pulled back, his expression was both hesitant and hopeful, like he was waiting for your reaction, uncertain of what came next.

The silence that followed wasn’t tense—it was filled with unspoken emotions, with everything that had been building between you two for so long but never put into words. You blinked up at him, your lips still tingling from the brief contact, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Before you could say anything, the footsteps returned, closer than before. Panic surged through you once again. “We need to move,” you whispered, pulling him up the stairs.

This time, Rafayel followed without a word, his hand still in yours as the two of you raced higher into the stairwell, trying to find a way out before you were caught.

But as you ran, the kiss lingered in your mind, leaving you breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with the warden or the danger that lurked around the corner.

You pressed yourself into the corner of the stairwell, your back flat against the cool wall as you dragged Rafayel into the shadows with you. His body was pressed close, too close, the heat of him seeping into your skin, and the footsteps from the warden were a distant hum in your ears compared to the wild thrum of your heart.

Neither of you spoke. It wasn’t necessary.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, and before you could stop yourself, you reached up, tangling your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in closer. His breath was warm against your face, and for a brief second, you hesitated, feeling the weight of what was about to happen.

But then he kissed you.

It wasn’t the shy, fleeting kiss from before—this was deeper, more urgent. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the warden, not the risk of being caught, not even the fact that you were standing in a stairwell where anyone could walk by. It was just him—just Rafayel—and the fire igniting between the two of you.

His hands found your waist, gripping you with a desperation that mirrored your own. You could feel his heart racing as fast as yours, the shared thrum of adrenaline and desire intertwining as his mouth moved against yours, deeper, rougher. The world around you melted away as you pressed harder into him, your hands roaming up to his neck, pulling him even closer.

Between gasps for air, you could hear the faint echo of footsteps nearby, a distant reminder of the danger. But neither of you pulled away.

Rafayel broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, “They’re getting closer.”

You nodded, trying to catch your breath, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again—fiercer this time, like he couldn’t stop himself. And maybe he couldn’t. Maybe you couldn’t either.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him against you, the taste of him filling every sense. His hands roamed down your back, holding you tighter, as if he couldn’t bear to let go. Every time you kissed him, it felt like the world was slipping further away, leaving just the two of you in this wild, reckless moment.

The footsteps grew louder, and a small gasp escaped your lips as you broke apart, eyes wide, trying to remember where you even were. Rafayel’s lips brushed your ear, his voice barely a whisper. “We need to hide better.”

Your pulse hammered in your ears, but you managed to nod, your chest rising and falling quickly as you both moved further up the stairwell, searching for a better hiding spot. Rafayel pulled you into a small alcove between the flights of stairs, the narrow space forcing you both even closer, his body shielding yours from view.

The footsteps stopped at the bottom of the stairwell, so close now that you could hear the warden’s heavy breathing. Your own breath hitched as Rafayel pressed himself closer to you, his lips ghosting over your neck, just below your ear.

"Quiet," he murmured, though his own breathing was shaky. You bit your lip, trying to stay still, but the sensation of his mouth so close to your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, was making it impossible to think straight.

The warden's voice echoed faintly through the stairwell as she muttered something to herself, clearly searching for any sign of the intruder. Your fingers tightened around Rafayel’s shirt, trying to stay as quiet as possible, but when he leaned in again, kissing the sensitive spot just below your jaw, a soft gasp escaped you before you could stop it.

You shot him a look, eyes wide with panic, but he just grinned—mischievous, daring—as if this was all a game to him. His lips returned to yours, and despite every instinct telling you to stay quiet, to stay hidden, you couldn’t help but kiss him back, the thrill of it all consuming you entirely.

Each kiss felt like a stolen moment, deeper and more intense as the seconds ticked by. His hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, tangling in your hair, brushing against your skin in ways that sent shivers down your spine. You could hardly breathe, but you didn’t care. The world outside had faded into nothing, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in the dangerous, heady feeling of being caught but not caring at all.

The warden’s footsteps eventually receded, the danger passing for now, but neither of you stopped. You were lost in each other, in the feel of his lips, his hands, the way he made you forget everything else.

It was reckless, but with Rafayel wasn’t it always?

LDS boys x reader who's quite oblivious to their feelings?!?

| Partner who is quite obvious to the boys’ feelings |

Lnd boys x gn! Oblivious! Reader

Xavier

Xavier will wait for you to realize your feelings on your own terms giving you time and affection

He will be so soft and sweet to you, the man’s just happy to spend time with you

Sometimes while training together, he’d purposely let you win so can watch to celebrate.

When he does something a bit flirty, you’re dumbfounded- ears red eyes unable to meet his.

Though he isn’t the best person around to have in the kitchen, he makes an effort to learn how to cook your favourite dish.

A particularly strong hit from you caught Xavier off guard. He stumbled backwards, feigning a loss of balance, and fell to the floor with a dramatic thud. Concern immediately washed over your face as you rushed forward, your weapon forgotten, to check on your fallen comrade.

"Xavier! Are you alright? I should have been more careful," you said, worry etched across your features as you held him still.

Xavier lay there, seemingly dazed, looking up at you with a mysterious glint in his eyes. A whisper echoed through, "Woah... you look pretty from here."

Your concern shifted to confusion, and you tilted your head, trying to make sense of his words. "Hm? You said something? But I can't believe I was able to defeat one of the top-performing hunters today!" you exclaimed, once you registered the accomplishment, your attention torn between victory and the well-being of your sparring partner.

"Congrats on the win, you did great," Xavier replied, his hands reaching up to gently cup your face. The touch was unexpected, and you blushed slightly at the unexpected closeness. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of admiration and devotion.

Zayne

Zayne, although busy throughout the day, would set aside time for you to spend it with you even when you insist on him utilizing it to rest

His type of love would be acts of service and gift giving, getting you small things

^^ for example when you unconsciously ramble on how you were recently into doodling and sketching so he brings in a sketchbook for you to fill up )):

Or when you wanted to have crushed ice in the middle of the summer, he’d use his evol to help you out

He’d keep in one of your doodles on his office desk- a constant reminder of you that put a smile on his face

Dr. Zayne peered over the rim of his glasses, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. The soft hum of medical equipment echoed in the small examination room, creating an oddly serene backdrop to the unfolding conversation.

"Your heart's racing again," he remarked, the corner of his lips lifting in a half-smile. "May I ask why?"

"Really? I don't know, Dr. Zayne. This happens every time I'm near you. Do you think this is some kind of allergy?" you ask genuinely worried.

Laughter almost spills from his lips at the question, “I don’t think that is medically possible, perhaps this is because of some different matters..” zayne trails off, eyes hinting at something you aren’t sure of.

While you are left confused- oblivious even to his intentions!

Rafayel

This man will not stop pestering you, constantly throwing flirty lines at you even when you shoot him down again and again :(

Unlike the other two, immediately after he recognizes his own feelings, he’s all over you

Although when the topic of actually confessing comes up, he’s all shy and red in the face, and when you misunderstand his confession- he gets all pouty not talking to you for days

“y/nn!” he whines over the phone, “I need you here right now! You’re my bodyguard, right?! There’s this hideous bug near my canvas, please come quick,” he hurriedly says cutting of the call before you can even reply.

You roll your eyes as you hear his dramatic plea through the phone. It's not the first time he's called you for something trivial. Sighing, you decide to play along with his antics and head to his house.

When you arrive, you find him standing on a chair, gesturing wildly at the bug near his canvas. "Y/nn, thank goodness you're here! This bug is a threat to my masterpiece! Can you please get rid of it?" he says, looking genuinely distressed.

You can't help but chuckle at his exaggerated reaction. "Alright, alright, calm down. It's just a bug," you reassure him. You take a step forward and swat the bug away, making sure to make a show of it. "There, problem solved. Your masterpiece is safe," you tease.

He looks at you with wide eyes, a mix of relief and admiration in them. "You're my hero, y/nn! Always coming to my rescue," he says, a mysterious glint in his eyes. As you share a laugh, you notice a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"You know," he starts, scratching the back of his head nervously, "I... um, appreciate you being around. More than just for bug emergencies, I mean." He glances away, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

He hesitates and finally blurts out, "I like having you around, y/nn. More than just for emergencies." You raise an eyebrow, not fully grasping the weight of his words.

“I mean, I hope you do,” you start, giving him a small smile. Upon hearing your words, he’s not talking to you for the rest of the week, while you wonder if you had said something wrong.

Sorry you had to wait this late but I was busy with moving into uni and lyf happened, although be ready to be fed more often now!!

Welcome! This is a masterlist with up to date links to all my love and deepspace related works (please check in on my pinned post before requesting!!)

📱indicates texts, Twitter, socmed stuff

💌 indicates written works

No works yet (send in a req!)

No works yet (send in a req!)

📱 RAFAYEL AS YOUR BF (TEXTS) [pt2]

Texts between you and your boyfriend- rafayel

💌 SHIRT

Rafayel buys name a shirt which is too tight for their own good, was that Rafayel's intention? Absolutely.

💌 COMPETITION

rafayel and you are fighting for the same position in the company, as a test and to measure your capabilities, you both are assigned to work on a project together whose results will decide your and Rafayel's fate in the company

COMPETITION

RAFAYEL X GN READER (YOU PRNS USED)

,,rafayel and you are fighting for the same position in the company, as a test and to measure your capabilities, you both are assigned to work on a project together whose results will decide your and Rafayel's fate in the company

,,kind of different from my other fics, this is very plot oriented, there is only one scene with actual physical contact, enemies to tolerable colleagues to may be smth? Fluff!!

,,honestly just read, it's cute, yes the banner needed some re touches but a bitch is tired yk ?

The morning sunlight spilled into the office, highlighting the tension in the air as you and Rafayel both eyed each other warily. The receptionist informed you that the decision for the job would be made by the end of the day, and until then, you were stuck together like mismatched puzzle pieces working on a project regarding the ‘HUNTERS’- company’s most recent client.

You scowled at Rafayel, who shot you a smug grin. "wow not even a good luck before we start? Who knew you were such a hard-hearted person”

Rolling your eyes, you shot back, "I'd say 'good luck,' but I'm not sure even luck can help you."

As you begrudgingly settled into your designated workspace, his remarks never ceased to stop. Rafayel couldn't resist making snarky comments about your choice of music, your slow typing speed, the way your glasses hung low on your nose bridge going on and on.

“seriously, I don’t want to hear that from someone who eats kale chips for breakfast,” you finally retaliated, eyes narrowed at him as his hand stopped mid-way on the way to his mouth with the said chip in his hand.

“hey! They’re a fine delicacy unlike your cereal you call breakfast,” he retorted defensively.

There was no use in arguing with this man, you concluded. Instead of collaborating seamlessly, you found yourselves arguing over the best approach, each trying to outshine the other. After countless ideas and rejections, somehow finding a common ground, and you both finalized an outline for the project to follow.

During the break, you both ended up in the office kitchen, glaring at each other across the counter. Rafayel smirked, holding up a bag of kale chips.

"Care for some gourmet snacking, Y/N?"

You scoffed, grabbing a chocolate bar from the shelf. "I'll stick to something edible, thanks."

The end of the break, marked the beginning of the actual start of the project which needed data transferring, spreadsheet making, logo finalizing and what not.

Rafayel leaned over, peering at your spreadsheet. "Are you sure this is organized? It looks like a maze in there."

You shot him a glance. "At least my maze has a treasure at the end, unlike yours, which seems to lead to nowhere."

He chuckled, fingers tapping on the keyboard. "You may have a point. Maybe I'll take a detour through your maze and find that treasure."

You sighed at the remark. “Can you complete the ppt first? It looks like a unicorn came and puked all over it,”

“shut up,”

“fine, but don’t blame me when you’re kicked out of the office,” you say, resuming your work.

At the comment, rafayel turned back around with a pout, tapping and typing away working on the slides once again. As Rafayel leaned back, he ran a hand through his hair, loosening the carefully styled strands. His pout transformed into a satisfied smirk as he glanced at the revised slides.

"There you go, a toned-down unicorn vomit, just for you."

You pretended to inspect it carefully, "thank you for your kind cooperation, your majesty,”

Rafayel chuckled at your mock formality. "You're welcome, my dear subject. It's not every day one gets the honour of witnessing such an act of kindness."

At one point, Rafayel suggested a bold idea for the project, to which you raised an eyebrow. "Oh, because nothing says 'professionalism' like turning our client's logo into a dancing holographic cat. Brilliant."

Rafayel grinned, undeterred. "Hey, clients love surprises! Plus, who wouldn't want a holographic cat?"

You sighed in mock defeat. "Sure, because when I think of a top-tier security company, the first thing that comes to mind is a feline hologram."

As Rafayel clicked through the slides, presenting the ppt to the hiring team, you couldn't shake off the growing sense of embarrassment. The colors were more vibrant than anticipated, and the whimsical fonts seemed to dance across the screen in a chaotic display.

Feeling the weight of the awkward silence, you shot Rafayel a worried glance. To your surprise, he subtly took your hand in his, fingers intertwining in a reassuring grip. It was a quiet gesture, hidden from the prying eyes of the hiring team but felt deeply by you.

Emboldened by the unexpected support, you steadied yourself as Rafayel continued the presentation, his confidence unwavering.

As the presentation concluded, the awkward silence was broken by the head of the team bursting into laughter, followed by the rest of the members. You exchanged a shocked yet relieved look with Rafayel as the laughter echoed through the room.

Rafayel leaned over, his grip on your hand subtly tightening. "Looks like we've left them speechless."

“don’t jinx it!” you whisper yelled.

You were still processing the situation, when the hiring head spoke "Well, that was certainly... unexpected," the head remarked, still chuckling. "You two have managed to bring a unique touch to our usual presentations. Would you like to assist the creative head together?”

As the shared position was announced, Rafayel gave your hand a final reassuring squeeze.

SHIRT

RAFAYEL X GN READER (THEY/THEM)

,,Rafayel buys name a shirt which is too tight for their own good, was that Rafayel's intention? Absolutely.

,,reader addressed as 'name', slightly suggestive, fast paced (?)

,, honestly shitty writing (English is not my first language), I will be posting a love and deepspace masterlist and link my works

"Don't you think this shirt is a bit too tight, Rafayel?" Name questioned, fingers tugging at the fabric. The initial buttons refused to close, while the others barely held on.

Rafayel drew in a breath, shamelessly oogling name's body as his eyes came to a halt on name's peeking collarbone. His hands naturally finding their place at Name's waist.

"Sorry, what were you saying, baby?" he innocently asks, pulling them closer and looking up at them.

Name chuckles, leaning down, hands coming to rest on Rafayel's shoulders. Rafayel's eyes briefly follow their visible cleavage.

Name's fingers entwinein Rafayel's hair, tugging the strands slightly to redirect his gaze. "My eyes are up here, darling."

"m' sorry, baby," he apologized, gently squeezing Name's waist, getting impatient.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Name accused, connecting the dots- the reason behind why he brought in such a size for them.

Rafayel swallowed, leaning up to bridge the lingering gap, silently asking for their lips to meet his.

"Answer me, Rafayel," Name urged- leaning in.

"just wanted to see you in tight clothing," he confessed, eyes fluttering close while capturing Name's lips without giving them a chance to comment on his unashamed nature.

Their lips met fervently, a collision of Name's body into Rafayel's caused by a mere tug. Rafayel's hands, once on Name's waist, now cradled the back of their head, pulling them closer.

As they part, Name stalls to catch their breath, their hand resting on Rafayel's heaving chest.

"You look hot."

"you planned it from the start, didn't you?" Name teased, a playful smile dancing on their lips.

"I did," Rafayel confessed, pulling them in again.

Mermaid Rafa fic coming soon

RAFAYEL AS YOUR BOYFRIEND (TEXTS) ptdos

,, rafayel x gn! reader, established relationship, swearing, etc

,, he's such a brat I love him (I think there'll defoo be a part 2)

,,in the first Text sequence, the messages don't get delivered cus the FBI agent is trynna get us laid, evol flipped is love, yes the reader has severe mood swings

tomorrow’s catch-22

don’t say it, don’t say it—

this is so cxnty, the babies are absolutely WILDING out here. （⊙ｏ⊙）

happy valentine’s day to us indeed.

ok, an idea suddenly came into my head. webtoons/manhwas/comics that associate with guys from "Love and deepspace" [just my opinion]

Zayne - Daytime Star (I LOVE this manhwa it's adorable and the art style is beautiful)

Showbiz, Romance, Drama

Adventure, Comedy, Manhwa, Romance / Comedy, Drama, Fantasy

Rafayel - Siren’s Lament / My Dear Fishmen

action, romance, fantasy, drama, comedy, slice of life, supernatural / Fantasy, drama, romance, comedy

Xavier - Eaternal Nocturnal / False Confession

Sylus- The In-Laws are Obsessed With Me (well...just look at the covers and you'll understand everything. Aesthetic 🤌, FL and ML ❤️‍🔥) + also the plot and dynamic 🔥

Fantasy, Reincarnation, Romance