crowandcurrent

[crowandcurrent]

Better Than Coffee

Summary: It’s a normal day working as the manager of EVOL, Linkon’s biggest male idol group. You help Rafayel through his schedule with the promise of sweet, sweet caffeine.

Pairings: Idol! Rafayel x Manager! Reader

Tags: Idol AU!, can be read as a poly fic if you squint, Rafayel centered though, preestablished relationships, idol x manager dynamics,—

Notes: This is the very beginning of my Idol! AU drabble series. I hope you love it as much as I do!!!

Word count: 2.3k

As the last glittery strands of golden confetti flutter to the stage, Rafayel’s lips curl into a playful smirk. He tilts his head slightly, violet curls catching the glow of the studio lights, and winks at the camera.

"Thank you for tuning in to Melody Wave, Linkon’s number one idol showcase." His voice is smooth, effortlessly charming, a practiced elegance laced within every syllable.

Beside him, his co-host, a fresh faced idol still new to the stage, blushes at his every movement. Nervous energy crackles in the way the younger performer clutches the cue cards, but they find their voice just in time, chiming in sweetly, “We hope to see you again this time next week!” With a deep, rehearsed bow, they set off a chain reaction— one by one, the idols standing behind them wave, bowing in sync, their voices overlapping in a chorus of gratitude for their fans and viewers.

A subtle flick of the director’s hand signals the end of the broadcast, and the studio bursts into movement. The audience erupts in cheers, voices bright with admiration, before being guided toward the exits. Performers slip backstage, laughter and footsteps blending into the hum of post show excitement.

Rafayel, ever the professional, exchanges polite thanks with the idols nearby before turning toward his own dressing room. But before he can take a step—

"Rafayel~"

The saccharine voice of his co-host halts him. 

He exhales through his nose, schooling his expression into something pleasant before turning back. She stands close, bright eyed and expectant, her green gaze alight with something that makes him wish he had left earlier.

"Is your schedule free after this?"

His answer is ready before she even finishes asking. “I have a commercial to film after this, so I should—”

"Oh! Is it the jean company? I heard they reached out to EVOL!"

The way she practically bounces on her heels makes his brow twitch. Before he can respond, a familiar voice cuts through the post show chatter, drawing his attention away. He doesn’t bother excusing himself— just pivots toward the one person who actually matters.

_______

Offstage, you stand beside Tara, the two of you caught in a fit of laughter. She’s positively glowing as she gushes about next week’s special guest— Jenna, the chart topping sensation she’s long admired. The opportunity to style her for the show has her practically vibrating with excitement.

"You’ll be fine," you tease, voice rich with amusement. "Just don’t start drooling."

Before Tara can huff out a response, Rafayel leans in, resting his chin against your shoulder for a fleeting second.

"Who’s drooling over who now?" His voice dips playfully, curiosity tinged with something softer, something comfortable.

You don’t even glance back. Instead, you reach up to ruffle his hair with a fondness that’s second nature. "Tara might be styling Jenna next week," you explain, your tone effortlessly light.

"Oh, that’s cool." He offers a small smile, but you catch the way it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Something’s off.

Without missing a beat, you flick his side, drawing a huff of protest from him. "Come on, let’s get you changed, yeah?" Turning to Tara, you flash her a grin. "See you next week."

"See you!" she calls, her voice still buoyant with excitement.

As you guide Rafayel toward his dressing room, his silence lingers. Whatever is on his mind, it can wait— for now.

_______

You offer polite smiles to those lining the hallway, acknowledging their bows of respect toward Rafayel as he returns their greetings with effortless grace.

His professionalism is second nature— polite, poised, just detached enough. But the moment he steps into his dressing room and the door clicks shut with a heavy thud, the mask slips.

With a dramatic huff, Rafayel all but collapses onto the couch, head first into the cushions. His voice, muffled but laced with irritation, drifts through the room.

"Why did we agree that I would be the one to host?"

You exhale softly, stepping closer before crouching beside him. Without a second thought, your fingers thread through his violet waves, smoothing them out in slow, soothing strokes.

"What’s got you so upset, hun?"

He shifts slightly, turning his face toward you but still squished up against the couch, cheeks slightly puffed in defiance.

"Can’t Xavi do this? I don’t wanna."

You chuckle, your nails grazing gently against his scalp. "You signed the contract, hun. Only two weeks left— you can do this."

His pout deepens, lower lip jutting out just enough to make you want to push it back into place.

"Please tell me the co-hosts aren’t girls."

At that, you grimace. "She wasn’t that bad, right?" Your brows furrow in reluctant hope. You know how he feels about younger idols— their boldness, their lack of boundaries, their infuriating tendency to test limits.

He scoffs, voice edged with dry disbelief. "She was trying to ask me out."

Your hands still mid motion. "What?"

"She wanted to know my schedule after." He shifts again, curling ever so slightly into your touch as if seeking comfort from the memory.

"Oh—" you hum, nodding slowly, processing.

He grumbles again, the sound muffled against the cushions.

You sigh softly, brushing his hair out of his face with gentle fingers. “We don’t have much else planned for today, so why don’t we go to that nice café you like?”

Rafayel lifts his head slightly, propping himself up on his elbows. The exhaustion in his expression fades in an instant, replaced by the unmistakable spark of excitement in his sunset eyes.

"The one outside of town?"

A laugh escapes you as you nod. “Of course.”

His lips part slightly, hesitation flickering across his face before he asks, “A date?” His voice is softer now, almost hopeful, brows raising just enough to be endearing.

You roll your eyes with a fond smile and tap his nose. “What did we say about talking about those here?”

"Not to…" he grumbles, expression twisting into a half-hearted sulk. “But it’s not like there are cameras in here. I don’t know what you’re so paranoid about, cutie.”

You deadpan. "Raf… just because there aren’t cameras in here today doesn’t mean there never are. You know we have to be careful." Your tone shifts slightly, tinged with something close to scolding as you tap his nose again for emphasis.

He groans, flopping his head back onto the cushions with an exaggerated sigh. "I know, I know. Sy already gets on us about minding our words." His gaze drifts upward, settling on the plain white ceiling, eyes tracing invisible shapes in thought.

You take one of his hands from where it rests against his abdomen and bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before carefully slipping off the rings he wore for the day.

"Come on, baby. Change, and then we can go." Your voice is soft as you place the rings into his accessory bag, carefully tucking them away.

With another dramatic exhale, Rafayel wills himself off the couch, standing to stretch before tugging his tan sweater over his head in one smooth motion. He barely spares it a glance as he tosses it onto a chair near the makeshift makeup counter.

While he changes, you busy yourself with cleaning up—putting his makeup away, neatly arranging his products, and leaving out the remover and cotton pads in case he wants to go barefaced.

_______

By the time Rafayel finishes, you’ve already made a few trips loading the car. His garment bag and makeup kits are tucked safely into the back seat, while flowers, snacks, and albums from adoring fans and idols alike are secured in the trunk, carefully positioned to avoid being jostled.

Hopefully.

On your fourth trip back, you spot him emerging from the ensuite bathroom in something a little more inconspicuous. A grey hoodie— one that looks suspiciously like Xavier’s— drapes over his frame, paired with a black cap and a face mask.

You check the dressing room one last time, scanning for anything you might have missed. Any plushies that may have rolled under chairs, forgotten accessories that had been set aside while tidying up. 

As you lean over the counter for one final sweep, Rafayel suddenly presses his weight against you from behind, draping himself over you with just enough force to make your knees buckle.

"Come on, cutie, I wanna go," he whines, voice muffled against your skin as he nuzzles into the side of your neck. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your clothes, a stark contrast to the cold air in the room.

You huff but hold your ground, steadying both of you as he clings to you.

It’s almost too cute— how needy he gets when no one else is watching.

Not that you’d ever tell him that. The boys tease him about it enough already.

_______

The drive over was peaceful, the hum of the engine and the rhythmic passing of streetlights lulling the world into a gentle blur. It didn’t take long for Rafayel to succumb to exhaustion; the moment you merged onto the freeway, he was out like a light. 

His head lolled against the window at first, but with a small, frustrated wrinkle of his nose, he shifted, curling slightly into the seat in search of a more comfortable position.

His hoodie bunched up awkwardly around his shoulders, and one of his hands ended up pressed against his cheek.

You bit back a smile.

Turning down the volume on the radio just a touch, you cast him a quick glance. Even in sleep, his expression flickered between peaceful and the faintest trace of discomfort, a telltale sign of just how worn out he was. You knew he hadn’t been getting much rest lately— not with how relentless their schedules had been. Between rehearsals, filming, late night recordings,on top of their usual schedules, it had been nothing but go, go, go.

He must’ve been exhausted.

At a red light, you took a moment to adjust the car’s temperature, making sure it wasn’t too cold. Rafayel had a habit of curling into himself when he slept, and you didn’t want him to wake up stiff and grumpy from the cold. Carefully, you reached over to tug his hoodie down where it had ridden up, smoothing it over his stomach.

He shifted slightly at your touch, a soft sigh escaping him, but he didn’t wake.

_______

By the time you pulled up to the café, hesitation crept in. You knew he needed this outing— some fresh air, some good food, something normal— but waking him felt almost cruel when he was finally getting some rest.

With a reluctant sigh, you unbuckle your seatbelt and shift, leaning over the center console to reach him once more. The van’s interior was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the engine and the distant murmur of the café’s evening bustle outside.

Gently, your fingers brush against his cheek, your touch light as a whisper. "We’re here," you murmured, voice barely above a breath.

Rafayel stirred, brows furrowing slightly before his lips parted in a slow inhale. He blinked sluggishly, his sunset eyes still hazy with sleep as he shifted upright. His hands instinctively found his face, rubbing at his eyes before raking through his tousled violet hair.

"Mm… already?" His voice was thick with drowsiness, making him sound impossibly softer than usual.

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You knocked out the second we hit the freeway."

He slowly blinked again, eyes still heavy, before stretching with a quiet groan, his hoodie riding up slightly before he flopped back against the seat. His gaze flickered to you, still warm with sleep, and he offered a small, lazy smile.

"Did I snore?"

You smirked. "Like a chainsaw."

His sleepy pout was immediate, and you laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"Come on, baby. Let’s get you something sweet before you fall asleep again."

With another groggy grumble, Rafayel finally moved to undo his seatbelt, letting out a deep sigh before reaching for his mask and cap.

"You’re lucky I like you," he mumbled as he adjusted them into place.

You grinned. "I know." 

Leaning forward, you close the space between you, and claim his lips with gentle ease. The kiss is soft, unhurried. 

"Let’s go get you your coffee," you murmur against his lips, already starting to pull back.

Rafayel has other plans.

With a grumble, he pouts, his hands already slipping around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he tugs you back in. His lips crash into yours, no longer gentle, but hungry— needy. There’s something desperate in the way he kisses you now.

A quiet hum escapes you as your hands instinctively find their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself against him. He deepens the kiss, and for a moment, all thoughts of coffee, exhaustion, or even where you are melt into the background. It’s just him. 

Just this.

But you know better than to let it last too long. While you two might be in the safety of the van you’re still technically in public.

With a breathless chuckle, you pry yourself away, pressing your forehead against his as he groans in protest. His fingers twitch against your skin like he’s debating pulling you right back in.

"You can kiss me all you want later," you tease, brushing a thumb over his jaw. "But right now, let’s get some caffeine in you."

He exhales dramatically, his pout emphasized by his slightly swollen lips still glossy from the kiss. "You’re the only pick-me-up I need," he murmurs, voice low, teasing— but there’s something undeniably sincere in his tone.

Your breath catches for just a second, and he grins, clearly pleased with himself at the effect he has on you.

"Smooth," you huff, rolling your eyes fondly as you tug him slightly out of the seat.

Rafayel might be stubborn, but at the end of the day, you always know exactly how to handle him.

And he absolutely adores you for it.

[crowandcurrent]

Currently trying to find time to finish a little drabble of idol au! Rafayel… 😖 SOON!!!

[crowandcurrent]

Masterlist

Welcome to my garden! Where stories and thoughts are carefully crafted, each one wrapped up with a beautiful bow, much like a bouquet of words, waiting to be plucked and enjoyed by those who wander through.

Love and Deepspace:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel ❀ Precious Canvas ✿ Idol AU! ❀ Better Than Coffee

Sylus

Caleb

Poly! Love Interests

[crowandcurrent]

Precious Canvas

Summary: You go to show Rafayel your new eyeliner palette, and before you can say a word, he picks up the brush. Leave it to the artist to reach for his paintbrushes, no matter the medium.

Pairings: Rafayel x fem! reader

Tags: basic descriptions of bodies, eyeliner not being used for its intended purpose, definitely not proofread—

Notes: This idea has been plaguing my mind for ages.

Word count: 543

You can’t quite piece together how you ended up here. One moment, you were enthusiastically showing Rafayel your new water-activated eyeliner palette, and the next, your shirt was hiked up to your neck, your bra discarded in your lap, leaving your back bare to the artist’s gaze.

The delicate eyeliner brush you’d been holding moments before lay abandoned nearby, forgotten, while Rafayel’s favorite watercolor brushes rested scattered by his knees, waiting to bring his vision to life.

His hands skim over the bare expanse of your back, trembling slightly, each touch deliberate and reverent, as though he feared marring something sacred.

When his cool fingers trace the curve of your spine, a startled gasp escapes your lips, and his soft smile deepens in response. The sound is a quiet reassurance to him— a sign that you’re just as consumed by this moment as he is.

“This is the most precious canvas I’ve ever worked on,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your shoulder before he presses a tentative kiss there. The gesture lingers, a fleeting promise, as he picks up an oval brush from the floor and dips it into the vivid crimson paint.

The warm pigment kisses your skin, a stark contrast to the chill of his free hand as it curls around your waist. He draws you closer, his firm yet gentle grip anchoring you between his legs, his presence both steadying and intimate.

With careful, practiced strokes, he coaxes flame lilies to life on your back, their fiery petals blooming in intricate detail, each one a testament to his devotion.

With a finer brush, he begins adding thin, steady stems to the flame lilies, each stroke sending a ticklish sensation across your skin. The urge to laugh bubbles up, but the slight squeeze of his hand on your waist stops you short.

“Not yet— you can’t move yet,” Rafayel murmurs, his tone firm but laced with a playful edge.

You exhale shakily, nodding as you will yourself to stay still. The deliberate caress of his brushes continues, slow and teasing, his strokes trailing higher up your side.

“Rafayel—” you gasp softly, the name spilling from your lips, half-warning, half-plea.

His response is a kiss to your shoulder, the curve of his smirk unmistakable against your skin. “Just a bit longer,” he reassures, his voice warm and full of mischief.

Your head dips forward, brows furrowing as you fight the urge to squirm, to shiver under his touch.

“Just like that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “I’m almost done.”

With a final flourish, he lets the brush fall to the floor to join the others, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Just gotta sign it,” he murmurs.

Leaning in, he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his twilight-colored hair tickling your jaw. His lips press softly to the column of your neck, warm and lingering, before his teeth graze your skin in a gentle bite.

A mix of surprise and pleasure escapes you, catching in your throat as your fingers instinctively thread through his hair, holding him close.

When he pulls away, his gaze lingers on the faint bruise blooming against your neck, his expression one of pride and satisfaction. “Perfect,” he whispers, his smile widening.

[crowandcurrent]

Cirrus's Request Guideline

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for being interested in sending me requests— it truly means the world to me! I love getting to read all of your creative ideas, and knowing you trust me enough to try bring them to life.

That said, I do want to be upfront— I’m pretty busy balancing my health and work right now, so I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get to every request. On top of that, I’ve discovered that writing anything under 1,000 words is practically impossible for me, which means I don’t get through many requests in one sitting…

If you decide to send an ask, I hope you’ll be patient with me! I promise I put my heart into every piece I work on. Thank you for your understanding and for being here— it truly makes my day!!!

Characters I write for: ✿ practically any Love and Deepspace character and paring

I will write: ✿ AU’s (I adore them so much!!!) ❀ female!reader, gn!reader, male!reader (please specify, as I tend to default to female!reader because it’s what I’m most familiar with) ✿ smut

I won’t write: ✿ non-con & dub-con ❀ incest ✿ blatant racism ❀ pedophilia

[crowandcurrent]

cirrus ✿ she/her ✿ 27 ✿ pisces ✿ infj ✿ flower admirer

requests: open ❀

masterlist request guideline