knightsoflegend | italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

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italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

WHO || Rafael, Buffy [Closed]
WHAT || After months apart, Rafael and Buffy celebrate the end of his tour with a private trip to Italy
WHERE || Italy
WHEN || /truck drives by, blaring horn
HOW || Actionspam.

It hasn't been an easy few months, but then again, it hasn't been an easy few years. Following the night of the Grammy's, Rafael's returned to his tour, aspiring to use his concerts as a chance to try and warn people of the dangers inherent in listening to Blade and company's music, even at the risk of looking like a crazy person. It wouldn't be the first time the world thought it, alright. Meanwhile, Buffy's been dealing with the fallout of what the Mind Master did to Finnick, and by extension, Myri, trying to be there for her friend in every way she can. It would be easier for both of them if they had each other to lean on through it all, but they had to rely instead on numerous phone calls and memories of one night that finally offered them both some hope just when everything had started to seem more impossible than ever.

They also had the promise of this to look forward to: a planned trip to Italy that Rafael insisted be just the two of them, once he was finally free again. He's arranged to meet her at the Galileo Galilei International Airport in Pisa, and when she gets out, there's some Italian chauffeur guys holding a sign that says "Summers".

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[ Buffy lifts her arms, in a hurry for there to be as little between them as possible. As her hands settle back to his shoulders, she drops her attention back to him, green eyes bright and wild as they take in the yearning gaze he explores her nearly naked form with. One hand lifts to touch the side of his face, a moment's peace amidst a storm of passion. The hunger and awe twining together in his expression solidly deflect any burgeoning insecurity that she might have felt in her sudden exposure.

As he hoists her into his arms, the softness of the moment is swept up in the current of their desire again, and she winds her own arms around his neck so he can safely deposit her on the bed, sprawled beneath him. Hair spills around her in a golden halo, but she isn't content to lie there for long. She slides her palms down over his chest, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his pants to pull him to her. She curls her legs up around him, but pauses as she starts to work his belt open. ]

Wait. [ Despite this, she doesn't wait—instead, she finishes unbuckling him, but lifts her gaze to level on his, searching. Filed under questions she's never had to ask before (that she can remember) is— ] We need— Do you have any — ? [ She evades the word. It's hard to imagine that he got the hotel staff to layer rose petals through the place but skipped over condoms, but let's not rule anything out of the Rafael Giovanni House of Wisdom Checks (wis 14). This is a big deal for her because she's only ever banged a vampire ok. But you only need to contract AIDS once. ]

[ while he's very distracted by her fingers working at his belt like that, he picks up on what she's laying down relatively quickly. it doesn't seem to pull him out of the moment much, and he gently runs a hand across her abdomen, resting on her side as realization flashes through his eyes. ] ... Si, carina. Un momento. [ he lifts himself up so that he's half kneeling over her, reaching down to pull the belt out its loops and deposit it over the side of the bed, where it clatters to the floor. his lips curve up into an unfair smirk, and then he leans down to drag a few languid kisses against her stomach as he slides off the bed, finally drawing away to move over to where his suitcase is. there's a brief unzipping sound as he opens a pocket. ]

[ As he draws back, she props herself up on her elbows, her eyes following the path of his hands from her stomach to his waist. She draws her lower lip between her teeth, his showmanship draws fluttered breaths out of her as she lifts her gaze to meet his again, every response untempered. That becomes readily apparent as he begins to kiss down her stomach; her lips part and her shoulders heave with anticipation. When he pushes back, she chokes on it, exhaling heavily and slumping back to the bed.

Unfair is right.

Her nose crinkles, hands rubbing over her face as she lays back on the bed. Threading her fingers back through her hair, she lets out a breathy chuckle at her own visceral reaction, almost embarrassed by wanting. Her whole body hums, every cell more alive than it's ever been. Slowly, her hands travel down over her upper arms, basking in that pleasant warmth.

She tilts her head to regard him fondly across the room, and she kicks her heels against the covers in a brief show of impatience. ] Hurry. [ The word carries a deliberate whine to it, charming in its playfulness. ]

Hurry, eh? [ his grin is wickedly amused as he turns in place with the packets in hand. it's one hundred percent on purpose that he slowly swaggers back towards the bed, dropping them on the bedside table right beside her. his attention shifts back to where she lies, and he steps slowly around the bed, reaching down to light his fingers on the inside of her calf, dragging them lightly up towards her knee, her inner thigh... he makes a small teasing detour around her panties, back up to her stomach, and then he traces his hand across the top band of her underwear, sinking one knee back down onto the bed. ] Good things come to those who wait, dolcezza. [ oh hey he found his english only so he could be a terrible person with it. ]

[ Her weight back on her elbows as he takes his time meandering over, and she reaches one hand across the bed for him, encouraging him closer. Of course, when he comes closer, it's just to be tHE WORLD'S BIGGEST JERK. The light touch prickles her skin, goosebumps following the path of his hand up her leg, and prompts a little whimper when he skips right past following through on his teasing. Breathless, she shudders, slipping back to lie flat on the bed but for the way she arches her hips off the sheets. ]

Oh, now he speaks English. [ She grumbles as though she's the running commentary, but her disgruntlement is undermined by the lopsided smile that breaks through the cracks in her expression. Slipping one hand down her stomach, she covers his hand and begins to steadily guide it down under the waistband of her panties. Mischief works into her eyes as they remain locked on his while she encourages him. ]

[ he grins just as mischievously up at her, even as he allows her to direct his hand beneath the thin fabric. ] Very fluently. [ he accentuates his smartass comment by slipping his hand in all the way, fingers gliding with satisfying pressure down through her wet slit, then crooking to begin slowly exploring every inch with maddening thoroughness, as he bends to kiss the inside of her thigh. ]

[ It takes no time at all for her to realize that Rafael, in a totally unsurprising turn of events, has no need for her impish guiding. By now, wet fluid pools between her thighs, dampening her underwear and slicking the path of his fingers as he explores her folds. Retracting her hand, she rests her palms on either side of her, and as his fingers work her, she slowly tightens her grip on the sheets.

Buffy's eyes drift shut, and she savors the steady contact, tongue pressing between her lips to wet them as desire dries her mouth. She isn't looking to expect the touch of his lips, then, and soft surprise has her lifting her hips off the bed, straining to his touch. One hand moves to brush over his cheek, slipping back to bury in his hair. Somewhere in here I guess I should mention her con roll of 24 /smooth af. ]

Good things. [ She agrees in a whisper. ] I'm starting to see your point.

[ he chuckles against her skin, causing pleasant vibrations beneath his lips, and his hand moves back up again to grip the band of her last garment. he moves to press his mouth against the cloth strip directly between her legs, the warm pressure of a kiss. he draws back as he starts to slowly peel her panties down, guiding them all the way off, and then shooting her another roguish look, before he places one hand gently on her inner thigh, coaxing her to spread open further. ] Only 'starting'?

[ his lips quirk up ] It is a good thing I am only starting as well, then.

[ Lifting her hips to help him ease her underwear off, Buffy closes her legs so he can toss them aside. The moment his hand starts creeping up her inner thigh, though, she revises that call. Cheeks flushed, she meets his gaze; a wily smile twists the corners of her lips up at his question.

Slowly, she spreads her legs open for him, nervousness visible in the hurried rise and fall of her chest. Fingers threaded through his hair, she scrapes her fingernails lightly across his scalp, using the steady movements to dispel her own trepidation at opening herself up before him like this.

It occurs to her (and maybe it should have earlier, but she was too swept up in it all to notice) that the hitch in her breath is inexperience; barring one big, ugly mistake (mistake ugly, not Spike ugly), she can't really remember doing this. It felt familiar when she'd slept with him, certainly not a first, but it felt like one. The night she'd shared with Spike was hurried and messy, unceremonious, driven by self-loathing and the hopes that the fire of his love for her might scour the dark and damaged parts of her soul.

Sharing this with Rafael, then, is a perfect opposite. His skin is as hot as hers—for all she burns for him, he burns just as bright, just as hot. Their passion is a living flame, sustaining both of them. His touch soothes her skin; she cannot use it to sting or bruise herself. And there's levity: she wants to be here with him, not surrender herself to him. It's everything she'd hoped to find that night, but could never offer Spike. So maybe this is a first too: not the first time she's had sex, but her first time making love.

A warm smile settles in on her lips, and something in her eyes softens. ] I love you.

[ ♬ seduces me - celine dion

her words prompt his eyes to crinkle at the corners with equal warmth, a smile in them that seems to spring straight from his heart. his hand slides further beneath her leg, and he turns his head to plant another lingering kiss against her thigh, with worshipful tenderness. ] Amore mio. [ his lips slide up further, his voice dropping to a low murmur ] Ti amo. [ and further ] Ti adoro.

[ he pulls back finally, his eyes drifting between her legs, lips curving up further in a tone of amazed admiration. ] Bellissima.

[ with that husky assessment, his fingers moves to part her folds gently, and then his lips and tongue are on her, with the tenderness of a lover's kiss. never forget that amazing dex check that he's working with, the one prompting his tongue to seek every one of her sweetest spots, varying rhythm and intensity with expert ease.

he may be aflame for her but that doesn't seem to stop him from taking his damn time down here, so she can enjoy the sight of those dark curls she's so fond of nestled between her legs for quite awhile before he draws away. he seems to be enjoying himself, at least. ]

[ It doesn't take a genius to interpret the reverence in his voice, even if the denotation is lost on her. Heat clamors up from her chest, stopping up her throat, drawing the breath right out of her as she watches him make his way up her thigh. When he finds his target, she's lost in wave upon wave of stirring passion, bucking her hips to encourage the deft work of his tongue.

Sweet, blissful moans slip past her lips while she writhes beneath him; one of her legs hooks over his shoulder, digging her heel into his back. In her rapture, her head falls back against the mattress, jaw slack in contrast to her peacefully shut eyes. Her hands never leave his hair, only loosening and tightening her grip to cue him as he navigates her body.

When he surfaces, she's panting, a fine sheen of sweat across her skin. Her heavy-lidded eyes won't quite focus even when she opens them to watch him, and the bedding he's strewn her across is in similar chaotic disarray. But she moves fluidly, doesn't miss a beat as she slips one hand under his chin, drawing him up the length of her body for a messy kiss. It's gentle and plying, and she can taste herself on his lips and tongue, a tangy full taste that wasn't in his kiss before. ]

I need you. [ She murmurs the words against his lips, too love-starved to let the kiss break long enough to say it more clearly. Instead, she repeats it insistently, broken up into each time they break for heavy breaths. ] I've needed you for so long. Please. [ With her last ounce of patience spent in the time he'd been working her over, she doesn't hesitate to act on that need (when u crit fail a will save). Any earlier responsibility is forgotten in favor of wrapping one of her legs around his hips and wrestling to open his fly. ]

[ it doesn't take any effort at all to draw him up into that kiss, and he surrenders to her embrace with total abandon, hands buried in her hair, skidding across the skin of her back, everywhere they can find purchase, as he groans his approval.

he twists enough to forestall her from just whipping his dick out and hopping on, because at least someone here remembered the condoms, bless, and he reaches down to assist her in pulling off his jeans entirely, kicking them into a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. he stretches one arm out to grab one of those packages, unwraps it with ease while he plants a kiss against her temple. one hand lightly grips her wrist, lowers it gently to the lip of his black boxers and releases her there, encourages her to be the one to remove them, while his forehead rolls to rest against hers. he doesn't say anything to her pleas, doesn't have to, his every action already clearly on board with obliging her. ]

[ As he drags her wrist lower, she lifts her gaze to level on his, seeking his final approval before she hooks her fingers in the elastic band and eases them down. That's when her gaze drops—understandably, because if you think she hasn't been deeply invested in Rafael Giovanni's dick for a while now, you haven't been paying attention. Her expression isn't quite holy grail about it, but it's not an entirely inaccurate comparison at this point. Perhaps Stanley Cup is more apt.

Desire has kept her eyes heavy, her lips parted, but as she slides her palm along the length of him, her eyes brighten, all worshipful wonder that's going to help with the need for a separate ego chair. She lifts her chin to kiss him, open-mouthed and lingering, while her other hand moves to take the condom from him. Unlike Rafael, she's no condom wizard (reasons probably being that she's never had cause to, well, touch one), but she does manage to effectively slide it down over his shaft. That's about all the teasing she has left in her are the light touches and exploration as she suits him up because that will save isn't getting any less crit fail.

Lust thick in her throat, she glides her hand over his length a few times, nodding against his forehead and pulling her lips between her teeth to break the kiss. She steadies herself with a deep breath, and wraps one arm around his shoulders, drawing him in with some urgent nudging of her legs around his. ]

[ all that touching and caressing and stroking she's doing are just eroding what was left of his own good will save rolls apparently, because by the time she urges him towards her, he's ready to practically beg for it himself, and the shaky exhalation of his breath as he slides inside of her openly broadcasts his sense of pleasured relief. one arm wraps firmly beneath her, the other free to roam as his hips fall into a steadied rhythm of thrusting up in her. at first, his face hovers inches above hers, sparks of lustful light creating an electric heat in the small space between them where their gazes are locked. but as she grows accustomed to the way he fills her, his hips buck with a slowly gaining intensity, and he smothers his moans of ecstasy against her mouth, with another deep, passionate kiss. with a fort save of 27, and that earlier strength check of 17, this is gonna be one fulfilling ride for buffy. congrats on the sex indeed. ]

[ Shifting through positions and cycling through paces, they keep at it with inhuman stamina—perhaps because they both are precisely that—without ever losing sight of the fervent intensity of their passion for one another. Their lovemaking wears on the headboard, gives Buffy plenty of opportunities to familiarize herself with condoms, and spans as long as anyone might expect from the Slayer and her half-elf assassin lover.

So many, in other words.

By the time they do run out of steam, sweat-soaked and panting, Buffy's throat is raw and dry from exactly what you'd expect why do I need a dependent clause here. She runs thin fingers through frizzy, knotted sex hair and pulls the sheet up over her chest, sprawling out on the bed beside him and stretching. ]

That was … [ Words fail her and she exhales warmly, tipping her head to look at him, all hazy bliss. Turning onto her side, she raises one hand to start tracing patterns over his chest and collarbone, a dainty smile lighting on her lips—it's far too innocent given the things they just did to one another. She settles on letting that smile speak for itself, allowing it to grow steadily more conspiratorial as it wears on until she's biting her lower lip. ]

Si. [ his head rolls to the side to look at her, all the movement he's capable of anymore, beside the light sweep of his fingers against her hip, where his hand remains settled. there's a molten glow to his voice that she's never heard before, a supremely satisfied, contented sound that's somehow sexier than even the murmured strings of italian declarations that spilled from his mouth while they made love. his lips brush against her forehead, caressing the sheen of sweaty skin with utmost tenderness as he finishes: ] That it was.

Edited 2015-04-30 11:18 (UTC)

[ The forehead kiss crinkles her nose, and she lifts her hand to briefly ghost her fingertips along his jawline, all languid reverence. She nestles her head against his chest more decisively then, just near the joint of his shoulder, and settles her palm back against his chest. ]

Mmm. I don't wanna move for a week. [ All this afterglow-y basking of hers is a really good effort at staying awake, but it's not working out long term. The steady, rhythmic movements of her hand on his chest eventually do their part in slipping her steadily to sleep, eyelids drooping as she comically struggles against it to the very last because she doesn't want to let this moment go. ]

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italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

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