rafayel; 1,745 words; fluff, fluff w/out plot, established relationship, kinda?spoilers for raf's lvl 55 affection story, no "y/n", genderless!reader, very suggestive but not actually nsfw
summary: oh, didn't you know? promises are sacred things beneath the ocean...
a/n: @syneilesis thank u for being my lad screaming buddy; this one's for you and for raf the little slut
The ocean has always been a certain kind of poetry, hasn’t it? You smile to yourself as you blink yourself awake and the world is the size of your sunlit bedroom. Rafayel’s breaths are even, his lashes so dark and long they remind you of a certain kind of midnight — the kind that catches starlight in her hair and has magic in her fingertips.
The kind of midnight that inspires wonder.
“If you really are that enamored with me… I can paint you a portrait. It’ll last longer.”
You blush, even as Rafayel’s eyes flicker open to catch yours, his lips pulled into a teasing, sleep-heavy smile.
“I — I wasn’t staring. I just woke up too and you were blocking my sun.”
You try to turn away, but Rafayel is faster, his arm looping around your middle to pin you to him, his breath warm as it kisses the skin of your bare shoulder. He cocks his head, still blinking the sleep from his eyes.
“Oh? Is that so?” he asks, shifting so that your eyes are level. The morning light paints his outline in liquid gold, and from here, the shade of his eyes makes you think of all the secrets the sea might keep from the sky.
“Mhm,” you nod, licking your lips, and watching with some satisfaction, as his eyes flick down to trace the movement. His skin is warm and his fingers soft as they press into the bend of your waist to pull you closer.
“Liar,” he says — whispers, before he dips down to graze his lips against yours.
You sigh against him, grinning as you curl your fingers into his hair and tug. The way he gasps makes a certain, unnamable hunger surge within you, pushing you forward till you’re pressing him back into the bed, your thighs on either side of his hips.
“Y-you — ngh —” Rafayel hisses as he tips his head back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his fingers inadvertently into your skin. You cock your head — and perhaps it’s the tantalizing line of his neck as he leans back, straining beneath you, or perhaps it’s just the morning light, falling like a lover’s caress across the smooth of his skin, the soft wave of his hair as it splays across the pillow — dark against light.
“Now… who’re you calling a liar?” you ask, flattening your palm slowly against his chest, reveling in the way his stomach tenses beneath you, how his breaths seem to quicken as you lean down and down and down.
“Y-you —” he almost musters up a glare as he hisses, “bullying the weak…” he murmurs as he tries to turn away. You twist his face back towards you with a finger beneath his chin and watch as his eyes go wide.
“Oh? You think this is bullying? But… I haven’t even gotten started yet…” you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate, the way his entire body goes rigid and then soft.
“I — you — I’m not accustomed to the ways of you humans! T-to a Lemurian like me… this is — this is —” The words die on his lips as you lean down to skim your lips along the bend of his neck, dropping phantom kisses on the long line of his collarbone, your fingers still holding his head in place.
“Hm?” you hum, grinning as he arches up into your touch, his fingers digging crescent-moon grooves into your hips and thighs, “this is… what, exactly?”
Rafayel makes a broken, keening noise at the back of his throat as you pull away, a fox-fire smile twisting your lips. You blink down at him, feigning innocence.
“Didn’t you say you were going to tell me all about Lemurian traditions? Why not start now?”
His eyes narrow as he forces himself to look away from you. You can almost feel the heat radiating off him in waves, burning from the tips of his ears all the way to the roots of his hair.
“I — you —” his lashes flutter and you can’t help your own laughter as it bubbles from you.
“C’mon, let’s get up — didn’t you want to go to the paint shop today — oh!”
You make to pull away, swinging your legs off him, but the world tilts as a pair of hands pull you back, and a moment later, you’re being pressed into an ocean of tangled sheets and pillows, Rafayel’s face hovering above yours, his expression caught between annoyance and ill-concealed desire.
“You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish,” he cocks his head, lips drawn into a delightful pout as you try to tug your hand away. He huffs as he pins you down harder, the redness in his cheeks deepening even as he leans in.
“Who said I was starting anything?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him even as he scoffs.
“Words aren’t the only way to make promises, y’know,” he says, and you feel his grip on you loosen. But there’s a tantalizing lilt to his voice that holds you in place, a dark, faraway look in his eyes as he leans back slightly, his gaze grazing down the shape of you, splayed out beneath him.
“Yeah? Then… what’s another way of making a promise?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows as he shifts back to allow you more space. You shift and the pair of you find yourself sitting face to face, the sheets rumpled around you like a white-sand beach, the remnants of the night before scattered in the folds like footsteps in the sand.
He looks at you before his eyes cast downwards. Your fingertips itch toward him and you reach out, brushing aside a stray strand of hair. Quick as a flicker, he catches your hand, pressing his cheek to your palm, eyes falling shut as he sighs.
“There’s… lots of ways to make a promise…” he says, murmuring it against your skin as he turns his face to press a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. You shiver as heat chases up your arm, tingling through your body as you swallow.
You sit there, frozen, as he leans in, slow and slow and slow — till you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
“You see… words are a little harder when you’re underwater, so sometimes we make promises by touching palms —” he turns his hand around yours till your fingers lace, “sometimes… we brush cheeks…” he grins as he leans in further, his cheek brushing by yours.
“And sometimes…” he pulls back ever so slightly, till you feel your own breath catch in your chest. His voice is deep and warm and soft and sweet — tugging you in as the moon on the tide, and you can’t help but wonder at the mysterious forces that might’ve pulled you towards one another in the beginning.
Chance, or perhaps something much less nebulous — like gravity.
Your lips meet like magnets clicking into place, and it’s far from the first time you’ve kissed but somehow here, in the morning light, with the windows of the bedroom thrown open to welcome the sea, the salt hanging solid and heavy in the air, it feels like the first time. You can taste the smile on Rafayel’s lips, can feel the eager way he presses in, tongue sweeping across your lips as you gasp open for him. You feel the weight of his body as he pulls you in, pushes you down, and the gentle give and take of it all somehow rings out against the slow shushing of the rising tides.
When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. You wonder, briefly, dazedly, if he might’ve been able to go on kissing like that forever. Do Lemurians even need to breathe? What might it be like to kiss like that and never feel the burning ache of oxygen in your lungs? It’s a dizzying thought, and you let yourself linger on it for a second more before Rafayel’s laughter breaks your train of thought.
“What? Was it so good that you’ve gone into shock?”
You blink, shaking your head as you feel heat wash up into your cheeks.
“No! I — I was just wondering… what does a kiss promise, exactly?”
And at this, Rafayel’s cheeks darken again, but he sighs and lowers himself onto the bed next to you, a finger trailing idly along the bend of your ear.
“Well…” he says, “it depends on the kind of kiss.”
You yelp, swatting at him with a pillow as your stomach flips inside you at the implications. His laughter is bright and pure and sweet, but as you both settle down again, he shrugs, pulling you closer to nuzzle his nose against yours.
“But mostly… a kiss just promises that there’ll be another kiss.”
You smile, leaning up to graze your lips against his, “Like that?”
He lets out a soft groan before pulling you in, his lips parting yours, slow and sensuous.
“Yeah… just like that.”
“And so… if you kiss once then…” you press a finger to his lips to stop him from leaning down again, “you’ve gotta keep on kissing? Forever?”
Rafayel grins, tugging away your hand, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
You purse your lips, humming as you feign contemplation. Rafayel scoffs and makes to move away again, but you pull him back, laughing.
“You can’t leave yet! We’ve got a promise to keep, remember?” and with that, you kiss him, and he softens. As he always does.
“I think…” he says, a little breathless as the pair of you sink back into the sheets, “we’ve got a bit more than one promise… but I think we can start with this one…” and he leans in to capture your lips in his, fingers drifting to the skin of your waist. And as the dawning day watches from beyond the window, the ocean shushes itself against a stretch of forgotten beach, water through sand like tangling lovers’ fingers, reaching and holding, pushing and pulling.
And for lovers like that, there will always be promises to keep, and keep, and keep.
pls come talk to me about love and deepspace oh m ygod
DIAURA yo-ka Rock and Read 044 (English Translation)
Magazine: Rock&Read 044
Release Date: October 2012
Type of Interview: Personal Interview
Scans: sweet-cigarette-and-heroin
Translator: VerwelktesGedicht
Note: Coverpic is from Japan-discoveries, yo-ka pic from jrokku.net - just to let you know what the mag and shoot are looking like (^.-) // This is a requested translation and as always: English is neither my mother language nor am I a professional translator. Just have fun reading it and get to know what yo-ka is telling us in his first Rock and Read interview!
And also as always: please no reposting. Or at least put a link to this post. Thank you!
- This is the first time you appear in this magazine. Please tell us something about yourself. Where are you from?
I was born in a small village at the countryside in Fukushima. My family is my parents, my two years older brother and my grandmother. I was the second oldest son.
- What kind of parents were yours?
Since my father didn’t talk a lot, he had a vague and scary image. But to tell the truth, he didn’t scold me. The one who did was my mother. Shouldn‘t a son cling to his mother? For me this was what my ideal was. When I turned around 20 years old I started to understand the feelings of my father little by little. In truth he was a person who got embarrassed easily. At that time I came to think that a family is something pretty good.
- What about your mother?
Her looks as well as her character was strict (laughs). My mother also had a job when I was a child and wasn’t really at home, so there were times when I felt lonely but after time passed I went out into the world and when I stumbled regarding human relations this gave me advices from the point of view of people who are having a job. The world of music and bands is special, so I’m thankful for this point of view of “normal working people”.
- What about your brother?
Back then we were fighting all the time. I got focused on the path of music but he wanted a completely different life. The older brother is the serious one, the younger brother is the wild one. Because the younger one is so wild, he had to choose the serious part, that’s what he thought. He was an older brother who acted nice towards the feelings of the younger brother. After becoming adults we talked a lot.
- What kind of children were you?
I was quite clumsy/awkward after being born and until I was 1 or 2 years old. Even by looking at photos I think “My brother is so cute but I, the younger brother, look kind of awkward.” I wasn’t cute (laughs)
- (laughs) What did you usually do in your childhood?
I had special classes in drawing and went swimming on a regular basis. But I didn’t continue those things for a long time.
- Where you good in music already back then as child?
I rather hated music. I couldn’t even play the flute. And even now I still don’t know which sound it makes when I put my finger where.
- What was your favorite school subject?
I hated studying. I couldn’t remember Hiragana in elementary school. I wrote it the wrong way round. mirror-inverted. Even though the correct example was right next to it I could write it only the wrong way round (laughs). I remember one time my teacher at elementary school got angry at me, took the plastic stick that he brought and banged it on my table shouting at me: “Why don’t you write it [the correct way]?!”
- A painful memory, isn’t it?
It is. But I wonder what I actually learned. I was a kid that couldn’t do anything, so when I was six years old I had only Cs on my school report. By time and age I got smarter bit by bit (laughs)
- You were a slow starter!
I’m someone who makes steady progress.
✦ a/n: v suggestive!! just some needy lil guys. forever thinking about luke’s back.
✦ ARTEM isn't direct with his intentions, but on the occasion that he's feeling a bit needy, he'll let his actions do most of the talking. when you two are laying in bed after a long day of work, the legal technicalities long gone from your thoughts, artem's fingers slide underneath the fabric of your shirt. they linger there before he's rubbing soft, delicate circles into your skin. he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, basking in your warmth and scent, and even though this should be comforting, he only finds himself wanting you more. "love..." his voice trails off in a whisper. anyone else would mistake it for fatigue, but you know the meaning underneath the deep timbre of his voice. it's hypnotic — the song of a siren. you pull his face out from the juncture of your neck and shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. a glint of lust and affection sits atop his irises. placing a gentle kiss to your lips, artem pushes himself up to hover over your body before melting his lips against yours once again. “i need you,” he whispers into your skin — and you’ll give him all that you are. he kisses you with fervor, his hands dance along your waist and he pulls you closer until you can feel the pounding in his chest against yours. the night ahead is long and ardent, but it's just what he needed — the perfect distraction.
✦ MARIUS never shies away from riling you up, whether you two are in public or not. he has this habit, an annoying one, really, of whispering how needy he is right by the shell of your ear. and if you weren't surrounded by tons of a-list celebrities and other important people that marius obviously has in his contacts, you'd yank him by the ear and tell him not to do that. and marius thinks he's smooth for wanting to get a reaction out of you at one of his own galas, but little does he know — you're used to this. "you look really pretty in that, baby, give me a spin?" he slides his hands lower so they sit right below your waist, and his fingers pull at the shiny silk he picked out for you. twisting the material around his finger, he leans in again. "or you can give me a private show later." you look up to see his signature smirk. you scoff at his words, knowing he’s only saying this to rile you up, but the warmth of his hand bleeds through the fabric. the rest of the night passes like a blur, and the only thought marius has on his mind is showing you how beautiful you truly looked tonight.
✦ LUKE knows the easiest way to get you flustered. it’s simple, because when he walks around the apartment with just his sweatpants on, you’re always at a loss for words. his body is toned; the countless hours he spent working out didn’t go to waste. you stare at the way his back flexes when he reaches into the cabinet for a cup, and when he turns back to ask if you want something to drink, he catches you staring. “what? you’re looking at me like i have 3 heads,” his fang peeks out as he laughs. “or are you just impressed?” he flexes a little and you catch the way his abs tighten, his arms swell even bigger. you feel your cheeks heat up, and luke comes even closer, encasing you in his arms. pressed against his chest, you think you might just melt. he presses a kiss to your cheek, cooing at your flustered expression. “you’re annoying,” you try to push him away, but he only tries to kiss your cheek again, reveling in the sound of your laughter. “says the one that’s trying to burn a hole through me. tell me, babe, are you gonna let me kiss you properly now?”
✦ VYN is always deliberate with his actions, delivering his message smoothly and nonchalantly. he lowers his voice, the timbre of it dark and intoxicating. and paired with subtle glances at your lips, he’s got you in a trance. he does this out of the blue — when you’re telling him about your day, you’ll notice the way he hums and focuses on your lips. he encourages you to go on, “hm? what else, sweetheart?” and when he looks at you so intently, with so much ardor in his golden eyes, you lose every syllable that once crossed your mind. he’s got you in his trap (as if you’d ever pull away from his honeyed gaze). his lips move towards yours like a gravitational force, and you lean in instinctively. at the very last moment, before your eyes flutter shut, you see that vyn’s still looking at you through heavy lids, as if he’s trying to commit the sight to memory, as if he’d never get to look at your lips ever again. you both know that’s impossible — he’s insatiable, and you’re under his spell.
blakekathryn
romaincrisis
