#lads rafayel

[sgt-seabass]

LADS men fucking your hand

⁺₊⋆⁺₊ a drabble about how each LADS man would act fucking your hand. all different types of desperation. 18+ only.

XAVIER

Xavier would be so vocal, each breath a whine in your ear. He’d shudder with each thrust into your hand, nails leaving divots in your flesh as he gripped onto your arms, unbridled strength brimming beneath the surface. He could easily overpower you, but he loves being at your mercy. He has your undivided attention – the thing he yearns for most. “Come closer, my star. I need to feel you.”

ZAYNE

Zayne would be holding you as close as humanly possible, your skin flush against his as his noises filled your ears. He keeps his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, hiding the red flush that tints his cheeks and the way his dark hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. He doesn't want you to see the way you affect him, but you can feel the heat, hear his moans. Your own sounds join his when his fingertips turn icy against your skin, adding to the cacophony of sensation. “Darling… don’t stop.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel would be the sassiest of the bunch, acting like he doesn’t need your touch, but the way his cock twitches and his lips ghost over yours says otherwise. He’d smother his sounds against your mouth, eyes fluttering when you adjust your wrist to get the perfect position. There’d be an unspoken connection, an agreement, only you could see him this way. “Cutie, you’re driving me crazy.”

SYLUS

Sylus would be rougher, his weight pinning you down and silver hair tousled, ruby eyes shining bright as he drinks in the sight of you. But even with the dominating presence, he lets you set the pace, nipping at your collarbone when you go too slow for his liking. He whines and huffs when he doesn’t get what he wants, but makes no move to stop you. The way he kisses you is surprisingly gentle, his tongue ghosting over your lower lip. “Kitten, please, you’ve got me all worked up.”

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[natimiles]

@valkyyriia

Rafayel who is a literal sea god with vast riches and powers, yet all he wants is the everyday joys of being around you. He wants to explore all the fun and interesting parts of the world by your side and listen to the rain falling on the sea with you, and it means much more than the riches of Lemuria and his titles.

Xavier who has lived for centuries and traveled the stars, yet all he wants is the quiet domesticity of being with you. He wants to read books and try out the new hot pot place that opened down the road, and this makes these moments with you so meaningful in the midst of his long span of life and experiences.

Zayne who carries the burden and guilt of being unable to save so many people (and even you in another life in another time), yet all of that eases when he sees the cheerful texts you send him during his shift. He wants to treat you for dinner despite your busy schedules and plan little weekend getaways just for the two of you to make for all the lost time missed between you two.

Sylus who is the most powerful and infallible leader of Onychinus, yet all he wants is to use this power and money to take care and provide for you. He wants to buy you whatever clothes you had your eyes on and indulge in whatever game has taken you fancy, because regardless of all that power it means nothing if he cannot be around you.

[manikas-whims]

Zayne: we doctors usually call this a “traumatic event”

Zayne *to Xavier*: ..not a “bruh moment”

Zayne *to Sylus*: ..neither a “major L”

Zayne *to Rafayel*: and most definitely not an “oof lmao”

[silverbrain]

I dropped my earring!

How the lads would help you find an earring you dropped... the sole reason being i dropped mine and turned the place upside down for 30 mins to find it (sigh)

Xavier

You’re almost ready for your coffee date with Xavier. He’s already waiting for you on the couch, when you step out, fiddling with your earring.

“I’m ready, I’m ready…”, you hurry along. Xavier opens his mouth to say something, but closes it as he sees you, eyes moving appreciatively over your all-black outfit. You decided to keep it simple but warm, opting for a black turtleneck and black jeans to counter the cold winter temperature.

You step towards the exit before you feel your earring slip past your fingers and drop to the ground. You freeze, before crouching down to find it. Xavier looks at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I dropped my earring! Oh goodness…”, you worry as you rake your hands over the carpet on your floor, hawk eyes trying to locate the shiny piece.

Xavier leans down to join you. Soon, the two of you are on your knees on the living room carpet, searching for your lost earring.

“I can’t lose it…”, you say, worriedly, “I really like it…”

Xavier tries to calm you down. “Don’t worry, it was right here…we’ll find it”, he reassures.

You nod, trying to quell the anxiety rising in your chest, as your hands don’t stop searching for it.

Beside you, Xavier stills suddenly. “Wait”, he says, “switch off the lights”

You stare at him blankly. “Go on”

You stand up and pad across the living room to flick the switch, enveloping the two of you in inky darkness. The next moment, you see a flash of light bang through the space. You stand in the corner, confused till you realise what Xavier is trying to do.

“Found it”, you hear him say. You switch the light back on and walk over to him holding out the small shiny earring in the palm of his hand. “Just shone a little light on it…”

“That’s smart!! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that!”

Xavier smiles, “It’s because you were stressed…come here”

He puts the earring in your ear, holding his hand out to you for the back of the piece. You hand it to him, heart fluttering a little at how close he is.

“There”, he says, happily, “You look pretty”

“Thanks…”, you smile, “Let’s go?”

Rafayel

You’re nearly done getting ready as Rafayel fiddles with the different makeup products on your table. He’s opened and smelled the lip plumper and the blush and you watch him from the corner of your eye, a little bit amused.

You stand up, nearly done, when you realize you’ve forgotten your earrings. You haphazardly put them in, before one of them clatters to the table, amidst the different makeup products.

Rafayel looks up from the lip stick he’s examining in his hand. “Oh no”

You two immediately dive into the table, shifting things around, trying to find it. You get a little too chaotic, and a few things rattle off the table onto the floor below.

“Woah, calm down, cutie, we’ll find it”, Rafayel says, bending down to pick up the bottles.

“Come here”, he says, grabbing your wrist. “You were standing right here”, he says, taking your place, where you stood a few minutes ago. “If you dropped it here…”, he muses. He starts sifting through the things on your table again, movements chaotic and hurried. Before you have time to complain, he holds it up like a prize.

“Found it!!”, he says, handing it to you.

You joyously give him a hug. “Oh my god! You did!”

Rafayel gives you a smile, as he watches you put it on.

“How does it look?”, you ask him.

“Hmm…it’s nice…but your eyes are prettier!”, he says.

You chuckle a little. Rafayel never gives up an opportunity to flirt.

Zayne

“Zayne!”, you exclaim. He has his back turned to you as he replies to a few texts from his colleagues.

“Yeah?”

“I dropped my earring!! I don’t know where it went!”

“Oh…”, Zayne looks thoughtful. He pockets his phone and walks towards you. You’re sitting on the bed, mirror propped up against the headboard. The bed was a mess of random clothes you had pulled out of the closet while trying on different outfits. It was, after all, a dinner with a few of his professors, and you couldn’t help but want to make a good impression.

“Don’t stress, come here”, he says, calm as ever.

You’re still holding your carefully done hair up with one hand as you step to the side. He begins to carefully shake the pieces of clothing out, placing them to the side.

You step forward, joining him, but he resists. “No, no, sweetheart, I’ll look”, he assures you.

He continues to methodically rustle the clothes, his eyes carefully scanning the sheets.

Soon, the clothes are out of the way but the earring is nowhere to be seen. You feel the panic rise as you wonder if you should just wear another pair and look for it later. Your eyes widen in surprise as Zayne lifts up the mattress in a swift motion, checking the headboard of the bed.

“You don’t have to! Let’s just look for it later”, you resign, realizing it was going to be a tough operation.

“Nah…I’m going to find this nuisance of an earring now…”, he says, determined.

He hoists the mattress up on its side and examines the underside of the bed. You shift you weight uncomfortably, joining him in his search. “Ah!”, he exclaims suddenly, producing the little shiny pearl from under a wooden slat, “here it is!”

You chuckle weakly as he hands it to you. “Are we late?”, you ask, putting in on quickly.

“No”, he assures you, resting his hands on your waist.

Sylus

Sylus walks in to find you unusually frustrated. “Something bothering you?”, he asks.

“I…uh…”, you answer distractedly, already searching for your lost earring, “I lost my earring”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you lose it just now?”, he asks

“Yeah…it fell…”, you say, a little annoyance creeping into your voice.

“It’s okay sweetie, we can just buy you a new pair”

You huff, his suggestion only contributing to your irritation. “It’s not that! It’s special!”

“Oh?”, you can practically hear the question in his voice, but he doesn’t ask, and you don’t elaborate.

He joins you in looking through the various items on and under your dressing table, but it is clear he’s distracted.

“Why is it…special?”, he asks, finally, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I…”, you try to avoid his gaze, “I bought it at a fair…it’s like a prized…thing”

“Okay”, he says, understanding. Soon, he begins lifting random objects with his Evol and tossing them around.

“Can I at least have a description of what I’m looking for?”, he asks you.

You feel al slight blush creep on to your cheeks as you describe it, “It’s a small red gem…shaped like a dagger”. You hold out the other of its pair on your open palm. Sylus straightens up from his position on the floor to take a look at it. His eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, it’s this?”, he asks, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah…”

You had bought the pair from a random shop in Charon East while on a night trip with Sylus. In fact, he had helped you choose between this and another pair. It was dear to you, but admitting it felt a little too…embarrassing? Vulnerable? You’re not sure.

It didn’t matter, though. What matters is, you had to find it. You wouldn’t be able to sit still if you didn’t. You shift your eyes back to the floor. Too bad Sylus had red carpet everywhere.

“How about I use a magnet?”, he asks.

“Earrings aren’t magnetic, are they?”

“Expensive earrings aren’t magnetic…this on the other hand…”, he says. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. “Yeah…bring a powerful one...Yeah”

He sits down on a nearby chair. You sit down on the bed, dangling kicking your feet restlessly. A few minutes pass.

“I didn’t know you liked these that much…”, he begins, “I’m touched”

You open your mouth, before his phone pings. Sylus leaves to meet someone, probably one of the twins before returning with a button sized magnet… or so it seems. “Stand back”, he instructs.

You didn’t expect him to resonate with the magnet. He holds it in his palm, red mist swirling around his hands, before a few things shift. A few safety pins and clips come flying as they stick to the magnet, so does a little ruby red dagger earring. “There it is”, he says, disconnecting the trinket and handing it to you.

“How about you wear another pair of earrings tonight and give these to me?”, he asks, after a moment.

You look at him in confusion.

“What do you need them for?”

“I’m going to get them re-made, with real gems this time”, he says, eyes fixated on your reflection in the mirror as he stands behind you, “After all, you deserve only the best things from me”

[nimuello]

obsessed with him tbh

[koalayoo]

ʀᴜꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛᴇʀʟʏ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ

rafayel x gn!reader

content: SUGGESTIVE, rafayel is a menace, pretty fluffy imo, let me know if i missed anything

author's note: this was written specially for one of my friends! hope you enjoyed it and that you get more lnd content now.

wc. 1.2k

You could feel a headache coming on. Where did you put your keys? 

You paced back and forth through Rafayel’s studio. You had checked his work station where you had pleaded for the man last night to put the brush down and make his way to bed. It laid haphazardly on a step of the wooden ladder; the paint dried down on the fibers, causing it to shape into a slanted dew drop. With a plop, you drop it into one of the many glasses of water filled with other brushes so that it can soak.

“Thank me later.” You murmur under your breath with a croak as if Rafayel could hear you and spare the room one last glance before moving onto the next.

It was the largest room in the studio. You had checked every inch meticulously, the cracks between the orange leather couch, behind the lapis blue cushions. Around every luscious plant, every canvas, every sculpture. Even the random bathtub you questioned the presence of. However, the sun was rising since your first search and it seeped in through the gigantic glass windows spanning across the length of the walls. The sheer white curtains do nothing to stop the onslaught of light. Above you, the transparent semi circle ceiling allowed impossibly more morning brightness to fill the expanse of the room. You felt bare. Exposed. However, the mental security that you were on private land away from everyone else soothed your mind. The birds could enjoy the sight of you.

You had hoped that with the growing illumination that you would capture a glint of reflected shine from your keys. However, another long and lengthy look left you rendered helpless as your keys were. not. in. sight. You cursed the person you were last night for getting caught up in everything Rafayel. 

‘Tweet Tweet’ and you cursed the birds too. A headache was definitely coming on. 

You entered the kitchen and gave every part a hard stare. No glimpse of a key anywhere. You sighed ready to move on. Your feet dragged on the cool titles, getting reminded of lugging Rafayel’s tall body into the kitchen last night.

“‘M tired…” He whined out, fully encompassing your back as he allowed himself to be pulled along. “Then get to bed.” You gruffed, making a show of pulling at his arms like a horse's reins.

“‘M also thirsty…” He continued on, voice growing quieter as though he had any semblance of time and space. You hummed in acknowledgement, stopping by the kitchen and filling up a glass of water from the tap.

“Here.” You nudged his chest with your elbow, turning around to face him. Before you could, his face slowly leaned closer to your neck, his breath hot on your neck. The tiny hairs stood on edge like swords. The feeling sent a frisson of excitement down your back. His lips left soft pecks as he travelled along your nape, further down and down and down until getting blocked by the collar of your shirt. One hand travelled the curve of your hip, reaching up to take the glass and placing it down, grabbing you and turning you around. His hands found themselves slotted in the indents of your waist and you were slotted down onto the counter next to you. Your legs opened up in a V shape to accommodate the width of him. Rafayel’s arms wrapped around you like a familiar red ribbon from months ago. His forehead pressed against your shoulder as he left small pecks as he trailed the skin.

“T-thought you were thirsty?” You huffed out stunned, letting out years of breath you didn’t know you were holding.”

“Mhm~ could drink you right up…” Rafayel lazily laughed, his exhaustion catching up to him as he pulled you into a kiss. Lips against lips. And he wasn’t too tired to…

Yeah. That’s enough of that. The bedroom was the last place to check. Rafayel was sprawled underneath the blankets, breathing deeply in and out. The sun’s soft radiance shone in through the dome, caressing his smooth skin. Your eyes traced along the tiny moles, freckles and beauty marks scattered across his curvature. A dot near his shoulder blade, another further down concealed behind cloth. It was your own canvas to explore. If it was a constellation you would hold each star within your hands, cultivate its heat and hide it deep within the alcove of your heart.

Toes stand upright as you walk sneakily through the bedroom. Front to back. Front to back. You tried your best to be quiet, sparing glances at Rafayel’s form to make sure he wasn’t waking up. Your keys weren’t on the floor, in your clothes, or tangled up within the sheets. Moving to Rafayel’s side of the room, you look around piles of books and chairs. It was really pissing you off now. This organised chaos was annoying. You sighed, louder this time. You’d just send Rafayel a message later and ask someone to pick you up. You were getting late.

However, before you could turn to leave, a wrist captured yours, pulling you onto the bed. Your head makes contact with a broad chest and you internally roll your eyes. “Ugh Rafayel?!” You whisper-shout, looking up at him. Eyes remained closed as if to feign sleep but you knew better, sitting up and placing a palm against his abs to push him down. 

“Geez, alright, didn’t know you were that desperate to get away from me.” He opens his eyes, pouting. A rasp evident in his tone. “Didn’t know you were so sleezy,” Wide palms grip your waist. “do I only serve one purpose to you?”

You take a deep breath in.

“No- of course not- it’s just…”

His frown grew bigger as his eyes threw complaints. 

“I have work, Rafayel. A job. I can’t laze around all day.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” You rebuke. 

It would be nice to stay cozied up in his studio, attached to a warm body, attacked with affection but you can’t afford that. But then his much larger hand grabs the back of yours and you feel yourself melt. Your hand meets his face and you have the urge to brush purple locks out of the way. He guides your hand lower, fingers tracing down his cheek, towards his nose, down his lips. He bites your finger playfully before bringing it further down.

You feel his pulse. Calm. Steady. Your fingers itch, an urge to squeeze. There’s no time to act on that impulse. Your fingers continue to be pulled down and he begins to spell something out with your finger. The tough ridges and bumps of his body make the task harder. A curve, some straight lines- oh.

S - T - A - Y

A boyish grin appears on his face. You attempt an intimidating frown, a furrow on your brows. 

“Art is a job too, you know, and I could be your best masterpiece yet.”

You feel your hand continue to draw shapes and symbols on his body. You shake your head, beginning to pull away.

“I’ll tell Thomas to pay you,” He quickly blurts out. “something tells me I’m about to be very inspired.” 

He pulls at your arm; you allow yourself to be pulled in. Chest against chest. He smirks, feeling victorious. He had won this time. His fingertips gently caress your chin, tilting you in for a kiss. You lean in closer, about to seal the deal before your eyes catch the twinkle of a certain piece of metal underneath his pillow.

“Rafayel!”

reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated! let me know how you like this. this is my original work.

[sunnieslotus]

Am I more pretty than intelligent or intelligent than pretty?

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

Honestly I was just really stressed so I transformed it into something silly. I hope you enjoyed 🥺

[sylusdarling]

For You

Rafayel x reader, Sylus x reader (platonically)

✧Your boyfriend happens to find you while you’re out with Sylus…how will that go?

Content: Rafayel x fem!reader, Sylus and reader are only friends, Jealousy, Anger, Pouty Raf, No smut

A/N: This is my piece for @jinwoosbabyboos open collab!

the prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react.

Thought I would join because why not? I wrote this in one sitting and it’s not my favourite thing I wrote butI hope you enjoy!

“You called me out to…go shopping?” Sylus asked, an amused tinge in his voice. Both you and Sylus were currently walking together down the large shopping district of Linkon. Today Sylus looked less mafia boss like. You called him and threatened him-or so help him god- to dress normal so he wouldn’t stand out.

“Well, Rafayel has a huge exhibit coming up overseas!” Your hands moved animatedly as you spoke, excited for your boyfriend’s success.

Sylus nodded, “I see, good for him. But I don’t see how your painter boyfriend’s success involves me.”

Sighing, you spoke, “It doesn’t, to be fair. I was hoping you’d help me with something?”

“And what is that, kitten?” Sylus asked as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Well, this exhibit is a big deal. Well, all of his exhibits are but this one is going to be huge. Like, the Louve, Mona Lisa type of crowds.”

He picked up a cup of hot chocolate from a stall and handed it to you as you spoke, “Alright…”

Taking a small sip of the hot chocolate, you continued to speak. “Well, you picked out a very pretty dress for me when we went to the banquet and I was hoping you’d help me find an outfit that was event appropriate? I want to seem like I belong by Raf’s side, you know?”

“Oh so miss hunter came to me for fashion advice?”

You laughed, “I suppose so.”

“Sweetie, you’re not going to find anything like that around here. How about I,” He paused reaching into his pocket. Sylus presented you his black card as he held it between his forefinger and middle finger. “…show you where I shop?”

You jumped and hugged Sylus out of excitement. “Thank you Sy! I can’t wait for Raf to see!”

“What the hell?” A voice came from behind you. That sounded awfully familiar.

Turning around, your violet haired boyfriend stood behind you. His eyebrows knit together and his mouth was downturned. His usually bright eyes were suddenly dark.

“Raf!” You cheered as you saw him. You ran up to greet him but he took a step back.

“What’s going on?” Your boyfriend asked clearly upset. Sylus walked up behind you with his arms crossed. Rafayel glanced up at the crimson eyed man. “And who’s this?”

Before you could respond, Sylus spoke up. “Sylus, a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded at Rafayel.

Rafayels gazed stayed fixed on Sylus. “Ok Sylus, and why were you hugging my girlfriend?”

“Well, she hugged me to be exact.” He snickered.

You looked up at Sylus offended. “Sy! Now is not the time to be snarky.”

Rafayels eyes turned to you, “Fine, then why were you hugging him?” He snapped.

“Raffy, please relax.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, slotting your fingers in his. He stared you down. “Sylus is a friend of mine. I asked for his help picking out an outfit for your event.”

“And why couldn’t you ask me?” Rafayel cut in.

A giggle slipped past your lips, “I wanted to surprise you baby. I was going to try to find something really nice so I would hopefully look like your equal in front of everyone else. I wanted to impress you.”

“Really?” He looked up at Sylus.

“Really.” Sylus responded dryly. “She couldn’t stop squealing about your success.”

“See Raf, It was all a misunderstanding.” You squeezed his hand.

Rafayel sighed, “You scared me. I thought I was going to lose you again.” His eyes casted down at the concrete.

“Oh sweetheart,” Your hands cupped his face as you brought him down to peck him on his lips, “You know how much I love you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I just kinda panicked.” Rafayel became pouty as he spoke. You smiled, it was cute.

“Well. Since you both have this figured out I’ll be going now. Contact me if you ever want to finish our shopping.” Sylus waved at you to say goodbye and you waved back. Sticking his hands in his pocket, he walked off.

Rafayel sat his head on your shoulder and nuzzled his head in your neck. You pat his head and ruffled his hair. “My fishies so pouty.” He pulled back and looked at you with an even deeper pout.

“You can’t blame me!” He exclaimed loudly, “My girlfriend was with another man, what was I supposed to think.”

You reached around and pinched his cheek. “You know I love you. I’d never do anything like that to you.”

“Ow ow!” He rubbed his cheek, “I know, i’m sorry.” A disappointed look sat on his face. “Also, you do know you don’t have to wear fancy or expensive clothes to be equal to me, right? You’re extremely beautiful no matter what you wear.”

“You’re sweet, Raf.” Grabbing the collar of his sweater you pulled him down and kissed him passionately. His eyes widened in shock before he closed them and kissed you back. Your hand tangled into his soft locks as his hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you close. Running out of breath, you pulled away. Rafayels lips went to chase yours.

“Come on baby. We can continue at home.”

“Fineee.” He whined as he grabbed your hand and began walking.

“I still don’t like him though.” Raf spoke.

“I know honey.”

[t16sworld]

This man, this man this man this man!!!

Rafayel...

[sayangrafayel]

Loft talk Pt. The Adult of Adults.

Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire*

Xavier: We need an adult!

Rafayel: Aren't we all adults!?

Sylus: We need an adultier adult! Get Zayne!

[A/N: I saw Ijichi describing Nanami as the adult of adults despite him being the youngest among them, and it made me think of Zayne and how much that title would suit him. HAHAHA.]

[koririchanart]

😼💦

[pomegranatepip]

Golden Hour

rafayel × gn! reader

content: mostly fluff, idk how to tag suggestive content yet so I'll just say heavily suggestive elements, lmk if i missed anything

author's note: i suck at coming up with titles for things 💀 this is my first time writing for love and deepspace. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 838

AO3 link

Rafayel wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing insistently. He groans as he reaches over, not bothering to see who called as he shuts it off. He turns over to his side, hoping he can still catch a few winks when he is met with the sight of you next to him, still fast asleep.

He almost never wakes up before you. His sleeping schedule is atrocious as it is, and has become even more so with that exhibit coming up. Be as it may, any thoughts of further sleep flee his mind as he takes you in.

You’re curled in on yourself, as if determined not to take up extra space on his bed- which would have been a nice gesture if you weren’t also hogging most of the blanket. He smiles to himself as he tries to fit under it with you, already thinking about how he’d tease you about it later. You shift in your sleep as he draws closer and unfurl yourself enough to throw an arm over him, revelling in the warmth his body provided.

If only you could see the warmth he held in his gaze.

The quiet domesticity of waking up next to you felt surreal. In all his lifetimes of finding you, knowing you, loving you, Rafayel had never allowed himself the luxury of imagining a future with you. Well, maybe at first. But fate had a cruel way of getting in between you two and driving you apart. Over the centuries, he had learned not to want for more than what he was given, knowing it could be snatched away at any moment.

But now, as he watches you scoot closer to him, still asleep, his heart swells with an emotion he can’t quite place. Is it hope? Contentment? He wasn’t sure. You were the wordsmith between the two of you, after all. But for the first time in a long, long while, he feels safe enough to want more. More moments like this, more time, more of you. All of you.

All he can think about is how beautiful you look right now, your skin glowing golden in the morning light streaming in through the windows. Your breath is warm against his neck where your face is nuzzled. Your own neck is littered with the marks he had left there last night, all the more visible now that it’s morning. As he traces his handiwork, he recalls the way your hands had roamed reverently over his body, the way you had kissed him, the way his name had fallen from your lips as he coaxed pleasure out of your body over and over-

He leans down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. Then another. And another. His lips trail up to your neck, then your jaw, and finally to your cheek where he places one last chaste kiss.

“That tickles.”

He pulls back to see you looking up at him, your eyelids still weighed down by sleep. “Good morning to you too. Slept well I suppose?” he asks.

“Like a rock. How’d you figure?” you reply through a yawn.

“Well, you’re practically cocooned in my blanket while you’ve left me to freeze outside of it. Also? This is a king size bed. Look at all the space behind you. Why am I hanging off the edge?” He pouts as he gestures to himself.

You look around you, then give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that,” you mutter as you scoot back and hold the blanket open for him. “Join me now? I’m even giving my spot to you. It’s nice and warm.” You say the last part in a slightly sing-song voice, trying to persuade him to get in.

Not that he needed any persuasion, but he wants to mess with you a little more. “That’s it? That’s all I get for fighting the elements all night just to make sure my girlfriend is warm and toasty?”

“Well, what else do you want?”

Rafayel grins as he moves to hover on top of you, his arms on either side of your head. The way your breath hitches at his sudden proximity, the way your gaze moves instinctively to his lips- he drinks it all in. “I could think of a few ways. If you’re feeling up to it.” He poses it as a question, only wanting it if you do.

You pull him down so your faces are a hair’s breadth apart, your lips ghosting over his. He shudders.

“Well,” you whisper, smiling playfully, “I don’t have anywhere to be today. Do you?”

He trails a hand down your side, watching the way you respond, how you go pliant under his touch. He wishes he could suspend this moment in time. His godhood paled in comparison to the privilege of being able to worship you.

“No. I’m all yours for today.”

And for the rest of eternity, he adds unspoken, but you hear it and smile as he captures your lips with his.

[hellinistical]

fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence wc: 3962 a/n: finals are over so back to updating :)

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IV: RICH RED SOIL

The wheels creaked loud enough to be heard from the inside of the carriage. Y/n’s stomach twisted as the carriage rattled forward, the scent of sweat and fear clinging to the heavy air inside. The other girls packed tightly together, each wearing the same expression of tense resignation. No one spoke; their faces were drawn, eyes flitting between each other and the curtained windows as if answers lay somewhere outside. 

Y/n tried to ignore the leftover taste of the roast clinging to her tongue, a reminder of her mother’s desperate insistence and the reality of what lay ahead. She swallowed hard, pressing her forehead against the cool glass pane, hoping it might ease the rising nausea. The muted rhythm of the wheels on the cobblestones should have been calming, but it felt like a countdown instead, each clack taking them further from their homes and closer to whatever fate awaited.

One of the girls beside her, a frail brunette with wide eyes, fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She kept glancing nervously at Y/n as if wanting to say something but unsure of where to start. Y/n finally turned to her, giving a slight nod of encouragement. 

“Do… do you think it’s true?” the girl whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wheels. “The stories… about the sacrifices?”

Y/n tried to keep her expression steady, though she felt a flicker of dread deep inside. She didn’t know what was true and what was fiction anymore. But as she looked at the girl, she forced herself to keep her voice calm. 

“They’re just stories to scare us, aren’t they?” Y/n murmured, more for her own benefit than anyone else’s. “I’m sure the capital has better things to do than… that.”

The girl’s lips trembled into a small, hopeful smile. “I… I hope you’re right.”

Y/n settled back against the window, though her pulse was still racing. The cloth draped over the carriage windows dimmed the interior, casting everything in muted shadows. It made the cramped space feel even smaller, the dark corners pressing in on them like a heavy weight. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could pull back the curtain to see where they were going, but the guards had made it clear: the windows stayed covered.

The faint flickers of light that managed to seep through the fabric only teased at the passing scenery outside. Was it still farmland, or had they reached the outskirts of the capital? She couldn’t tell, and that uncertainty gnawed at her. Y/n’s reflection faintly mirrored back at her on the glass pane—her face pale, her freckles standing out like constellations against the dim light. She stared at herself for a long moment, wondering what the capital had planned for her.

The hushed sniffles of one of the girls nearby broke the silence, and the sound tightened the knot in her chest. Y/n turned her head slightly, her gaze flicking to the others. The frail brunette from before had drawn her knees to her chest, clutching the fabric of her skirt tightly in her fists, her lips pressed into a thin line to keep from sobbing aloud.

Another girl, with golden hair braided neatly over her shoulder, stared blankly at her lap, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the hem of her dress as though in a trance.

The frail brunette immediately shrank into herself, her sniffles cutting off abruptly, though her wide, watery eyes darted nervously toward the carriage door, as if expecting a guard to burst in at any moment. Harlow rolled her eyes, leaning back against the carriage wall. “Honestly,” she muttered under her breath, “as if the rest of us aren’t already miserable enough.”

If anything, the sound of sniffles was annoying.

Y/n’s nerves were already taut, and the incessant whimpering only added to the stifling discomfort.

Across from her, Harlow Bianchi seemed to think so, too. The tall, sharp-eyed girl leaned forward, her lips pressed into a thin line of irritation. Finally, she snapped, “Will you get a hold of yourself, or do you want them to hear you crying?”

Y/n glanced sideways at Harlow, unsure if she wanted to thank her for the silence or curse her for the coldness. Harlow caught her eye and raised a brow, her smirk sharp and humorless. “What? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Y/n replied flatly, but her jaw tightened.

Harlow scoffed, crossing her arms. “Good. Because pity’s not going to get anyone out of this mess.” Her voice dropped lower, though it carried the same biting edge. “If you think the capital cares about tears, you’re fooling yourself.”

Y/n turned her gaze back to the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. Harlow wasn’t wrong, but her words only added to the knot in Y/n’s stomach. The capital didn’t care about their tears or their fears. 

"Jerk," Y/n mumbled under her breath, just loud enough to voice her frustration but not loud enough for Harlow to hear. She didn’t want to get into it with the baker’s daughter—especially not now, when everyone was already packed like sardines in the cramped, stifling carriage, and the mood was about as cheerful as a funeral march.

Harlow didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she just didn’t care. She sat with her arms crossed and her legs stretched as far as the limited space would allow, exuding an air of indifference that grated on Y/n’s nerves. Across from them, the brunette was still sniffling softly, her tears now silent but persistent, and a pale blonde girl next to her patted her arm half-heartedly as though she wasn’t sure what else to do.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pressing her back against the wooden panel of the carriage. She stared at the cloth covering the window, trying to focus on the faint light filtering through it rather than the oppressive closeness of the space or the lingering taste of the roast sitting uneasily in her stomach.

The carriage hit a bump, jolting everyone inside. Harlow cursed under her breath, and one of the other girls yelped, gripping the side of the seat as if that might stabilize her.

Her thoughts drifted to home, to her family. Were they okay? Did Caleb leave, or was he still sulking somewhere in the barn? She frowned. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to think about Caleb, her mother, or her father’s worn face as he tried to stay strong for her. Not now. Not when she had no idea where she was being taken or what the capital would demand of her.

“Could they drive any worse?” Harlow muttered, shooting a glare toward the front of the carriage as though the guards could hear her through the thick wooden walls.

“Probably,” Y/n replied dryly, earning herself a brief, surprised glance from Harlow. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to break the tension, if only for a moment.

Heavy boots thudded outside, the sound drawing closer. The blonde froze mid-sob, her wild eyes darting toward the door as though she’d only just realized what she’d done. The other girls sat motionless, tension thick in the air, their breaths held in terrified anticipation.

"LET ME OUT!" the brunette suddenly screamed, her fists pounding against the carriage door. The confined space seemed to amplify the sound, making everyone flinch. Before she could cry out again, Harlow leaned over and slapped a hand over the girl’s mouth with a sharp, resounding pop, silencing her. "Shut the hell up!" Harlow hissed, her eyes blazing with irritation. But before anyone could say another word, the carriage jolted violently, throwing the girls against each other as it screeched to an abrupt halt. The unmistakable sound of hooves clattering and muffled voices shouting outside followed.

“Fuck,” Harlow muttered under her breath, glancing toward the door as if expecting it to burst open at any second. She took her hand off of the girl’s mouth, wiping it off on her skirt in disgust. 

The door creaked open, revealing one of the guards, his expression stony and unimpressed. “What the hell is going on in here?” he barked, his voice sharp enough to make the blonde flinch.

The blonde shrank back into her seat, her head bowed, but the guard wasn’t having it. He stepped into the carriage, his presence making the cramped space feel even smaller, and scanned the girls with a steely gaze.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, his eyes locking on the blonde. “You want to make this harder for everyone? Do it again, and I’ll make sure you’re gagged for the rest of the trip.”

“Please, I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I just— I didn’t—”

“Enough.” His tone was final. He straightened, glancing at the rest of the girls. “Anyone else feel like causing problems?”

No one said a word.

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped back out of the carriage and slammed the door shut behind him. A moment later, the carriage lurched forward again, throwing everyone back against their seats.

For a while, no one spoke. The blonde sat hunched over, silently crying, while the rest of the girls avoided looking at her.

“Great,” Harlow muttered under her breath, breaking the silence. “As if this wasn’t bad enough already.”

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flickering between the sobbing blonde and the others. The words from the guards were cruel, but there was something about them that made her feel uneasy. They weren’t wrong, though—Lindsey had made an already difficult situation worse, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be mocked.

Outside of the carriage, they can hear the men complaining about the brunette "That Miss Lindsey is pretty as a bird but god is she whiny." Outside the carriage, the muffled voices of the guards filtered through the walls, their conversation clear enough to hear over the clatter of wheels on the dirt road. “That Miss Lindsey is pretty as a bird,” one of them grumbled, his tone laced with irritation. “But gods, is she whiny. Makes me wanna rip my ears off.” A chuckle followed.

“You’d think with a face like that, she’d have more sense to keep her mouth shut.” “Pretty don’t fix stupid,” the first guard muttered. “If it did, this trip would be a lot quieter.” The second guard laughed.

“Betcha she’ll be the first one to cry when they see the Capitol. Always the loud ones that fall apart the fastest.” Their words stung even from behind the cloth-covered window, making Y/n’s stomach churn. She glanced at Lindsey, who sat trembling and pale, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

The blonde was still silently crying, her tears slipping down her flushed cheeks. Whether she’d heard the guards’ cruel remarks was unclear, but the atmosphere in the carriage was heavy with discomfort.

“Assholes,” Harlow muttered, her arms crossed as she leaned against the side of the carriage. Y/n bit her lip, unsure of whether to feel pity for Lindsey or annoyance at how her outburst had painted a target on all their backs. 

The carriage jolted again, and the sounds of the guards grew fainter, but the weight of their words lingered in the air, hanging over the girls like a storm cloud. Y/n felt a tightening in her chest, a deep frustration that made her want to scream, but she knew better than to give into it. There was nothing to be gained from making noise, nothing to change.

"Assholes," Harlow repeated, though her tone had softened a little, like she was trying to calm herself. She flicked a glance toward the rest of the girls, her sharp eyes scanning the group.

"Keep your head down," she added quietly to Y/n, leaning in close. "We're all in the same mess, and the last thing we need is to start a fight among ourselves."

Y/n gave a small nod, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The weight of what was coming—the Capitol, the uncertainty, the fear—had settled in her gut like a stone. What would it be like when they finally arrived? What kind of people would they meet? What kind of future awaited them all in that foreign place?

Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her dress as she tried to block out the conversation of the guards and the sounds of Lindsey’s muffled sobs. She couldn’t think about that. Not now. Not when it was still too far away, still too unknown.

"Caleb’s an idiot," Y/n muttered to herself, more to focus her thoughts than anything else.

But it was true. Even if he had given her the ring, it wasn’t going to change anything.

"I said, shut it," Y/n repeated, her voice sharper now. She was past the point of caring about appearances or keeping the peace. The sound of Lindsey’s constant sniffling was grating on her nerves, and the weight of the situation was starting to crush her patience.

***

After 2 hours, Lindsey's sniffles faltered for a moment, and she looked up, her tear-streaked face a mixture of surprise and hurt. The other girls in the carriage shifted uncomfortably, the tension growing thicker with each passing minute. Y/n's words hung in the air, her frustration too loud and raw to ignore.

Lindsey wiped her face with a trembling hand, her lips quivering. "I—I’m sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, but the quiet sobs started again almost immediately, quieter this time.

Y/n let out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the carriage wall. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the relentless tension in the cramped space, the discomfort of the journey, and the impending sense of doom were all catching up with her. The guards’ earlier words still echoed in her mind. She wondered if they thought they were all going to break the same way—if they thought all the girls were just fragile, easily crushed beneath the weight of whatever was waiting for them in the Capitol.

"Gods, if I wanted to hear all this crying, I’d have stayed back in Linkon if I could," Y/n muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

A quiet silence fell over the carriage, the kind that made the air feel thick. Y/n’s mind raced with thoughts of the unknown, of what would happen when they reached their destination. Her chest felt tight, and though the anger at Lindsey was still there, it seemed small compared to the dread that had settled deep inside her.

At the edge of the silence, Harlow’s voice broke through. "Save it for when we get there, Y/n. We’re all stuck here, and none of us know what’s coming next. Might as well keep our heads down for now."

Y/n shot Harlow a quick glance, but she nodded in agreement. She didn’t want to start a fight that could only make things worse. She wasn’t sure what it was about the other girl’s tone—something almost sympathetic, something that made her feel like she wasn’t alone in this miserable situation.

The moments dragged on in silence, the only sound now the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels on the road, the occasional sniffle from Lindsey, and the muffled voices of the guards outside. 

***

The landscape outside the carriage was bleak, a barren stretch of land that seemed to go on forever under the grey sky. The road they traveled on was a worn dirt path, riddled with potholes and ruts, making every bump feel like a sharp jolt to the bones. Dust rose in clouds behind them, settling over the carriage like a thin veil that blurred everything in its wake.

On either side of the road, sparse trees stood like forgotten sentinels, their branches bare, stripped of leaves by the harsh winds that blew across the open plains. There were no fields of crops or signs of life; only a few scraggly bushes and dry grasses clung to the earth. The land had an unwelcoming, desolate feel to it—empty, lifeless, as if it had long ago given up hope of seeing anything but the occasional passerby.

In the distance, dark hills loomed on the horizon, their tops barely visible beneath the heavy cloud cover that hung low in the sky. The clouds themselves were thick and oppressive, casting the world in a perpetual state of twilight, dimming the already muted landscape even further. The light that filtered through them was pale, as if the sun had lost its strength, struggling to break through the gloom.

As the carriage continued forward, the wind picked up, sending dry dust swirling around them. The smell of the earth was stale, mingling with the faint scent of the horses and the musty air inside the carriage. It was a landscape that seemed to suck all color from the world, leaving only shades of brown and grey. There was no sign of the vibrant world they had left behind in Linkon, no warmth or life to be found. Just the cold, harsh expanse leading them somewhere they didn’t want to go.

Just south of the carriage, a storm was gathering, its ominous presence impossible to ignore. The dark and swollen clouds seemed to churn with unnatural speed, twisting and folding into themselves like a living thing. The air grew heavier, thick with the promise of something violent. A faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, the first signs of what was quickly becoming a full-blown tempest.

As the storm surged, the wind began to howl, pushing the branches of the few remaining trees into frantic motions. Once a dull gray, the sky now darkened into an almost oppressive black, casting long shadows across the barren land. The edges of the clouds began to pulse with erratic flashes of lightning, brief but blinding as they illuminated the rolling hills below.

If Y/n could have seen through the cloth blocking her view, she would have noticed how the storm seemed to grow with every passing moment, sweeping across the land, sending dust and debris into the air like a prelude to a much larger chaos. The wind began to pick up, tugging at the fabric of the carriage and making the wheels creak as they spun through the uneven road.

The carriage creaked under the weight of its passengers, the sudden tension outside palpable as the storm rumbled closer. Y/n could hear the voices of the guards through the thin cloth, their conversation drowned out by the heavy wind that now howled through the trees. The distant flashes of lightning added an eerie glow to the landscape, but it was the storm itself—its raw power—that was starting to make her feel uneasy.

The guards’ calm dismissal of the weather only made the unease worse. They weren’t worried. But Y/n could sense something was wrong. The winds felt like they were building up, preparing for something violent to break.

The soil outside turned a dull red as the rain began to fall in steady droplets. It wasn’t heavy yet, but the land itself seemed to be reacting to the weather, the earth growing darker as if absorbing the rain in slow, deliberate swallows. The air smelled of damp soil and something metallic like the world itself was holding its breath.

Luke, the man at the reins, had glanced back towards the carriage, his brow furrowed with indecision. The hesitation in his voice when he asked if they should stop suggested that even he was starting to feel the weight of the atmosphere. But the guards, wrapped in their practicality, continued to push forward, determined to reach their destination on time.

"Keep going," one of the guards snapped, his voice sharp against the low growls of thunder. "The capital’s close, and we’re not stopping until we get there."

The winds howled louder as the carriage lurched forward, but the guards' determination remained unshaken. One of them, perhaps more eager than the others, chimed in with a casual tone, almost dismissive of the brewing storm.

"Right. We made good progress. We'll probably even get lucky and get there before the end of the month!" His voice rang with a sort of reckless optimism, though it didn't quite reach the eyes of the other guards, who were now glancing nervously at the skies.

Inside the carriage, the rhythmic motion of the wheels against the road and the hum of the wind outside lulled most of the girls into a sleepy haze. The constant rattling seemed to blend with the soft murmurs of voices, and soon, the atmosphere inside was thick with a quiet lethargy. Even the girls who had been fidgeting or whispering moments earlier were now resting, their eyes fluttering shut, unaware of the growing tension around them.

Y/n, however, remained alert. She wasn’t tired, not after the emotional weight of the past days, and the unsettling energy of the journey kept her wide-eyed. Her gaze flicked between the girls, their faces softened by sleep and the distant outline of the storm that loomed just beyond the windows.

The air in the carriage was stale, thick with the scent of damp fabric and the faint hint of fear. But despite everything, there was a quiet hum of resignation—of girls who had no choice but to sit in silence and let the storm, both outside and inside, unfold. The dark clouds that loomed beyond seemed to mirror the thoughts in her mind—heaviness, uncertainty, and an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as an unfamiliar sensation washed over her. It felt as though something was tugging at the very core of her being, pulling her in an invisible direction. Her chest tightened, and a heavy weight settled there as though a string was drawn tight across her ribs. The feeling was sudden and all-consuming, forcing her to clutch the side of the seat for support.

Her eyes darted around the carriage, looking for any explanation, but nothing seemed amiss. The other girls were still asleep, their faces relaxed and unaware. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake off the sensation, but it only seemed to grow stronger.

Was it the journey? Was it the tension of what was to come? No. This was something else. Something that felt familiar, yet distant—like an invisible hand reaching out to her, pulling her toward a place she didn’t understand.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. Her mind raced, images flashing in her mind of the sea, of the storm, of something deep beneath the waves, but nothing made sense.

With a quiet gasp, she steadied herself against the pull in her chest. The feeling was impossible to ignore.  

Y/n pounded her chest a couple of times, frustration mounting as the sensation continued to gnaw at her. It felt as if something—or someone—was pulling her, dragging her towards the sea, towards something that had always been just out of reach but never this intense. The pressure tightened, making it harder to breathe. She leaned forward, clutching her knees, as though trying to steady herself against the invisible force.

"Get a grip," she muttered under her breath, her voice low and strained. She looked around, half-expecting someone to notice her discomfort, but the other girls remained asleep, oblivious to her inner turmoil. She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was useless. The feeling was unrelenting, and it seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. 

In desperate frustration, she slammed her fist against the side of the carriage, hoping for some relief, but it only made her chest tighter.

Why now? Why this feeling in the middle of this godforsaken trip?

As she sank back into her seat, she squeezed her eyes shut.

And the red soil got richer with the rain. 

copyright © 2024 Hellinistical all rights reserved. no part of this story may be reposted, edited, or reproduced without the author’s permission.

[rrnrjn]

HELP WHAT

Thomas: “MC have you seen Rafayel? He doesn’t answer his phone.”

MC: “You don’t know?”

Thomas: “Know what?”

MC: “How you gonna get him answering you.”

Thomas: “Besides calling him on his phone I don’t know.”

MC: “Listen closely rookie.” deep breaths “MARCO!!!”

Rafayel screaming loud from somewhere in the building: “POLO!!!!”

MC: “I always need to do this when we go grocery shopping.”

[sainteplays]

giving off zayne x mc vibes

also works w/ mc x rafayel

*credit goes to op in the photo