#raphael bg3 fanfic

[bitethedevil]

A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

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Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: Raphael, our dear problematic landlord, is playing it safe in these first couple of chapters, but he will get so fucked up later on. For now we are setting the scene a bit more. NSFT stuff in the next chapter as Haarlep is properly introduced.

Tav yanked on the window to her bedroom. She pulled it closed but the handle would just not go down and let her keep it closed.

She had finally found something wrong with the apartment. She had been expecting toxic mold to hide somewhere behind the furniture, so she supposed that a broken window was really a minor fault.

She gave up on the stubborn window and instead felt the need to explore her new surroundings a little bit. She folded the map of the estate that Raphael had given her and put it in her back pocket.

When she opened the door to the shared entrance, she stepped out into a cloud of smoke. She blew it away and then looked for the source of it. A blonde, middle-aged woman who looked a bit worn out by life stood to the side of the doorway puffing on a cigarette.

“Sorry honey. Didn’t see you there,” the woman said in the hoarse, croaky voice of someone who had smoked their entire life. “You the new one?”

Tav nodded.

“I’m Tav,” she greeted. “Nice to meet you.”

“Linda,” the woman said curtly. “I live next door. Now…”

A beat of silence came as Linda took another long drag from the cigarette between her boney fingers. Tav looked at her for a moment and a smile tugged on her lips from the slight awkwardness of the pause that was just a moment too long.

“I won’t stop you from listening to loud music,” Linda continued after letting out a trail of smoke. “but I’ve got a heart condition, so be considerate of that. No blasting loud music out of nowhere. Turn the volume up gradually, you hear?”

Tav nodded again with a polite smile.

“I’ll remember that.”

She watched Linda’s bright turquoise nails tickled at her nose as she took another deep drag from the cigarette, all while she was watching her skeptically through her matching turquoise eyelids.

Tav’s eyes lingered on the cigarette for a moment. She cleared her throat.

“I know it’s not nice to test the hospitality of my neighbors from the get-go, but could I maybe borrow a cigarette?” Tav asked.

Linda blew out a cloud of smoke and slowly retrieved her pack from the maroon fanny pack around her waist. She opened the lid so she could take one. Tav placed it in her mouth and then looked from Linda’s face to her fanny pack.

“Could I borrow a lighter too?” Tav asked when she made no move to hand her one.

Linda fiddled with her bag at the same slow pace before pulling out a lighter and lighting the cigarette for her.

“Are you capable of smoking it yourself or do you need assistance with that too?” Linda quipped.

Tav grinned and took a drag of the cigarette. The nicotine made her body relax immediately.

She could already tell that she would like Linda. She knew her type because her old neighborhood had been filled with Lindas. She always had a weakness for those no-bullshit, chain-smoking ladies who you could see from the first glance had seen some shit in their life.

They should not be underestimated. They were always brutally honest, and they always had all the gossip.  

Linda looked her up and down and narrowed her eyes in thought.

“Yeah, you’re a pretty one,” Linda mused. “It won’t take long, no…Not long indeed.”

“For what?”

“For the master of the house to try and get in your pants,” Linda answered casually. “If he can get his cock out of Raha for even a second, that is. She’s a nympho. Watch out for that one. She’s one of those bisexuals or what you call them.”

Tav’s eyes widened, and she grinned at the candidness of her words.

“Yeah?” Tav said, a bit lost for words. “Interesting. Raphael a bit too old for me, I’m afraid.”

“He’s too old for Raha too but that doesn’t stop him,” Linda said with a huff and put out her cigarette. “Have you met with the others yet?”

Tav shook her head and took another drag of her cigarette.

“I’ve seen you and someone named John,” she said. “That’s it.”

“John has dementia,” Linda said bluntly. “He doesn’t talk much anymore. You haven’t met Raha and Oscar then. Raha is the nympho, Oscar is…”

She put her finger to her head and made the universal sign for craziness.

“I see,” Tav said. “Are you all close?”

“You’ve got to stay close in this madhouse,” Linda sighed. “We meet in the chapel usually. I’ll take you there.”

They went to the chapel. It was a piece of beautiful architecture, but it was very clear that it had not been used as a chapel for quite some time. Some of the benches had been arranged around tables that had been pulled inside from elsewhere.

Except for the fresco on the ceiling, the stained glass on the windows, and the cross on the wall, the chapel just looked like a well-used room for socializing and shared activities.

The three other residents were already in there.

John that she had met earlier was there, eating a pastry of some sort with shaking hands. Next to him sat a younger man in his thirties, who she guessed was Oscar.

Oscar was nervously biting at his nailbeds. He was brown-haired and looked up at her with the most beautiful and vivid green eyes she had ever seen. His eyes flicked over her.

Next to Oscar sat who could only be Raha: a gorgeous young woman with olive skin, dark hair and even darker eyes. She was playing with Oscar’s hair, which he seemed quite uncomfortable with.

“Everyone, Tav,” Linda said and gestured to her. “Tav, everyone. Come sit with us. Sit next to John. He doesn’t bite.”

Tav sat down and John turned to look at her with slight confusion.

“Maria?” John spoke quietly in a hoarse voice, his eyes lighting up a bit.

Linda gave a sympathetic sigh.

“Maria died, John,” Linda said in a loud voice so that the elderly man could hear her better. “This is a new one. Tav.”

“Tav…” John mumbled before returning his eyes to the pastry in his hands.

“Maria had your apartment before,” Linda explained and lit another cigarette. “Nice girl. She was about your age, which is why John’s confused. Tragic what happened to her… Aneurysm. It can even happen to the young ones.”

Tav noticed how Oscar’s eyes narrowed at that statement for some reason. He looked at Tav. His eyes flicked just above her head for some reason. He stared for a moment. Instinctively, Tav fixed her hair, expecting to find a leaf that had landed on her or something, but there was nothing. Oscar looked her in the eyes again.

“Did you already sign?” Oscar asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tav answered. “Signed just about an hour ago. I’ll live next to Linda.”

“A pity,” Oscar mumbled in a dark tone.

Linda rolled her eyes and then looked at Tav, as if to tell her not to take him seriously.  

“What do you do, Tav?” Raha asked in an almost sultry tone. “Are you going to work here with us?”

“Uh, no,” she answered. “I already have a job, so… I have lectures to go to, so I can’t really avoid going into town anyway. My workplace isn’t far from where I study.”

Raha smiled and nodded. Her canines looked unnaturally sharp as she smiled. Her eyes trailed down to look at Tav’s cleavage. Tav pulled up the neckline of her shirt a bit and cleared her throat.

“Do you all work here?”

“Yes,” Raha said and reluctantly pulled her eyes away from Tav’s tits. “We all have our duties around here. Oscar fixes things and takes care of the garden, John is an assistant of sorts, Linda cleans…”

“And you?” Tav asked.

Raha’s gave her another toothy smile.

“A bit of this and a bit of that…” she said in a suggestive tone. “Mostly I just keep the master of the house happy.”

“Mhm,” Tav said with a nod and quickly changed the subject. “So…why is it that you all meet out here? I thought I saw a meeting room for the tenants on the map…”

“He doesn’t come here,” Oscar quickly said. “Raphael never comes out here.”

“That’s not to say that we hate the boss,” Linda quickly added and looked at Tav. “But he can be a bit controlling and nitpicky at times. Sometimes it’s nice to have a separation between church and state, so to say. A space where you can get away for a bit.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” Tav mumbled.

“Speaking of churches,” Linda said and pointed to the corner of the room. “If you are religious there’s a little altar and some candles over there. No one but John really uses it, but he can share.”

Tav looked to where she was pointing and then nodded. There was a table with some candles and a small cross on it. She had never been particularly religious, so it didn’t matter a whole lot to her.

Linda checked the turquoise watch around her wrist.

“I’ve got work duty,” Linda said and took a final drag of her cigarette before putting it out. “Oscar, can’t you take care of the new one? Walk her back to her apartment and keep Raha away from her.”

Raha moved her hand to her heart in mock-offense at her words.

“Don’t be jealous, Lin,” Raha purred. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Linda huffed at her before walking out. Tav looked at Oscar and gave him a polite smile. He sighed before getting up from his seat.

“Come on then.”

“Hey about what you said earlier,” Tav said. “What did you mean by that? That it was a pity?”

Oscar was taking her through a huge garden. It was a different route than the one Linda had taken her on. The gardens were just as perfectly kept and beautiful as the rest of the house.

Oscar gave a small shrug.

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“Come on, now,” Tav urged. “Did I make a mistake by signing?”

Oscar looked at her with those green eyes of his. There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “There’s no way out now anyway.”

“Please. Give me something. Moving brings enough anxiety in itself. I just want to know what I’m walking into. Is this all a scam? I had a feeling that it was.”

Oscar gave a long, tired sigh and shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me. Please.”

He considered her for a moment. Their surroundings were beginning to look familiar now, meaning that they couldn’t be far from her apartment.

“Would you believe me if I said that you will never escape from here again?” Oscar said in a hushed tone. “That I’m not as crazy as the others make me out to be…that there is something seriously wrong with this place and…him.”

“Raphael?”

“Yes,” he said in an even quieter tone. “He’s not human, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Something is wrong with this place.”

Tav gave a sympathetic nod. She had dealt with people similar to him before. She had seen people with drug-induced psychoses. Drugs sometimes made her feel a little crazy too. Hallucinations, auditory and visual, and the delusions…

She was trying to determine what kind of crazy Oscar was.

“I see,” she said softly. “What is he then?”

“He’s not from here,” Oscar muttered and then looked at her with growing defeat in his eyes as he watched her expression. “You don’t believe me,” he said with a sad smile. “That’s alright…Just…take care. Your apartment is over there.”

Oscar pointed at her front door and then left before she could say anything. Now she felt terrible. She had not meant to be patronizing, just understanding. She sighed and walked in.

There was a letter stuck to the door of her apartment. She took it off before walking inside. It looked very official with a red wax seal and everything.

She opened it. It was an invitation to have dinner with Raphael.

Tav was led into the grand dining room of the estate by John who had greeted her at the door. The dining room was as lavish as the rest of the house. There were candles lit everywhere, shining their orange light over the gold and red furniture of the room.

The table was already set. It seemed that it was just going to be Raphael and her. Raphael lit up when he saw her. She self-consciously adjusted her clothes.

“I feel severely underdressed,” she said with an embarrassed chuckle. “My things haven’t gotten here yet, so…”

“Nonsense,” Raphael said. “You look fine just how you are. Please, sit.”

She sat down. Raphael took his seat at the head of the table.

“This is simply a little tradition we have here,” Raphael explained. “I find it useful to get to know who lives underneath my roof. Don’t feel nervous, dear. It is not an interrogation. Just dinner.”

“Just dinner,” she repeated with a nod. “Well. I’m an open book.”

Raphael poured a glass of wine for her and then himself.

“Let us get the unpleasantries out of the way, hm?” he said. “I was curious about this former boyfriend of yours. Your mother told me of his unsavory occupation. I trust he won’t be an issue for us?”

“No, no. It’s done and over with. He won’t come here or anything.”

“Good,” Raphael said with a smile. “His presence may prove difficult for one of our tenants. I won’t gossip, but you are not the only one who has had trouble with narcotics.”

“Okay,” Tav said with a tight smile and held up a hand to stop him. “I want to explain myself, because I feel like my mom might have filled your ears with her usual overexaggerated stories. I’m not really a drug addict.”

“No?” Raphael asked and took a bite of his food.

“No, not really,” she continued. “I did drugs, yes, but I wasn’t…’addicted’ to cocaine or to weed or to LSD or whatever. I just needed a little escape from reality every now and again, that’s all. I distanced myself from it when I felt like I was losing control over it. I’m clean now.”

Raphael gave a thoughtful hum and swirled the wine in his glass. He looked her over and a smile tugged on his lips.

“You would not say that a continuous craving for an escape or distractions is an addiction in itself?” Raphael challenged.

She bit the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance with how he pressed the subject. Also, in annoyance with how truthful that statement had described her former problems, but she would never admit that. She forced a small smile.

“I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “What can I say? I get bored easily and I have a hard time dealing with it. That’s all it is.”

She had always felt that way. She needed to be fully engaged in something interesting for her to feel like she was even alive. She needed something to obsess over. When she did drugs, everything was interesting. It was a nice replacement for a while, but at some point, even that became boring.

“Well, I can assure you that you won’t be bored here,” he said with a smile. “What were you trying to escape from, I wonder? Your boyfriend, perhaps?”

She shook her head.

“Just life, I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “No, Luke was fine. Nicest and most understanding boyfriend I have ever had, actually. I told him I couldn’t be with him because he did drugs. The truth is that I couldn’t be with him because I did drugs. He was a bit of a pushover, so telling him not to sell to me when I asked him didn’t really work, unfortunately.”

“Sounds like a painful separation,” he said.

“It was…” she said. “But it’s all over now. The relationship and the drugs. Things will be very different…”

She didn’t understand why she was telling him all of this, but still, she did. She felt as if she constantly needed to explain herself these days. It was as if she had a big brand on her forehead that said ‘addict’ and it was her new life’s purpose to explain that to everyone.

She cleared her throat.

“What about you?” she asked.

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“What about me?”

“Who are you?” Tav asked and took a bite of her food. “Other than a very charitable landlord, I mean.”

Raphael leaned back in his seat and swirled the wine in his glass with a smirk.

“Your new neighbors haven’t spoken to you about me? I find that difficult to believe.”

“Only very little,” Tav said. “I’m sure your answer is different from theirs, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he purred. “Though I am still very curious about what they have said so far.”

Tav took a long sip of her wine, which gave her a moment to think about what she could say without getting her fellow tenants into trouble. They all worked for him, after all. She didn’t want to jeopardize anyone’s livelihood or living accommodations by accident.

“Well,” Tav finally said and cleared her throat. “I got the idea that you are pretty close with your tenants. Other than that, it was mostly sort of confusing statements. Oscar believes you’re an alien or something, which wasn’t super helpful information.”

He let out a hearty laugh at that. Tav smiled and laughed along with him.

“He’s a very imaginative boy that one,” he said in an amused tone. “I believe he thinks I’m the devil. That is the usual warning he gives to newcomers.”

“The devil? Wow,” Tav said with a chuckle. “What did you do to earn that title?”

Raphael gave an almost coy shrug and sipped his wine.

“I pride myself on my ability to help people, but it is hard to do so when someone does not want to be helped. I suppose I might have lost my temper once but believe me when I say that it was only because I cared about what happened to our dear Oscar.”

Tav nodded in understanding as he explained.

“He is a very sweet and smart young man…whenever he remembers to take his medicine, that is, which is less and less these days. Though you will have no trouble with him. Even when he is off his medication, he has never been known to be violent or troublesome.”

“I see,” Tav said. “You still haven’t answered my original question though.”

Raphael gave her another shrug.

“It is a difficult question to answer,” he said. “I am many things, and I have my fingers in many pies, as they say. There is no set job description, but I can assure you that the most important work I do, I do here. Nothing is as rewarding as seeing my residents just…blossom.”

He smiled at her. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. A glint in his eye or something. She wasn’t sure. There was definitely something up with this man, she felt. She brushed it off for now.

Raphael poured her more wine and continued their chat for a while before Tav headed home to sleep her first night in her new home.

It was getting dark outside. Tav was making her bed when she heard an odd noise. She paused her movements for a moment, but it seemed as if the noise disappeared the moment she did so. She shook her head and wrote it down as her being jittery over sleeping someplace new.

She tried closing the troublesome window again. She grabbed the handle and pulled it shut, but it would still not go all the way down. She tried yanking harder on it, but nothing happened. She pulled harder on the handle, but then it would not go down at all.

She sighed and once again gave up.

She pulled her pants off and got under the covers. She gave a small sigh of relief as she lay down on the bed. It felt as if her spine aligned for the first time in months. The mattress was the perfect balance of firm and soft against her back.

She turned off the light. The moment she did, the noise returned.

It seemed to come from outside. It was a low, windy, moaning sound. She didn’t feel like getting up, so she squinted and looked out of the dysfunctional window. She could see on the trees and bushes of the barely lit garden, that there was no wind that was making the noise.

She was too tired and too comfortable to care at that moment. The house was ancient, after all. It was bound to make weird noises every now and again. She brushed it off and closed her eyes.

She quickly drifted into that state between being awake and being asleep. The noise became louder and clearer. She could have sworn that it suddenly sounded like a thousand people wailing and wheezing in despair.

Sleep quickly seemed to swallow her whole regardless.

[cambion-companion]

Like Snuggling a Venus Fly Trap

Raphael x reader drabble | 18+ only light smut

Wherein you get utterly ensnared in a certain cambion's arms...and legs...and tail...and wings...and uh other extremities.

You lay slumbering, warm and bare of skin, your legs entangled with the much longer limbs of your infernal lover.

Raphael stirred where he too slept, pressed tight as he was against your back. His arms wrapped around your torso and chest, the sharp nails of his hands digging into your soft flesh already marked with the evidence of his claim to you.

The movement of him pulling you closer to his chest, hot as an infernal engine, roused you from your deep sleep. You began to wriggle a little, trying to shift his strong arm just enough to allow you to breathe unrestricted.

Raphael exhaled warm breath against your ear before nuzzling deeper against the crook of your neck and shoulder. You made a noise of reproach as his sharp teeth skimmed your sensitive skin, like a sleepy warning. "Stop moving." His voice was even more seductive with that rough edge of just regaining consciousness.

"I can't breathe." You complained, almost upset about his tight hold upon your body.

"You will manage." His tail snaked around your thighs and with little effort dragged your legs to press flush against him.

"Raphael..."

"Hush." With a surprisingly soft sensation, Raphael draped his wing down upon both of your bodies, cocooning you in a haze of velvet scarlet.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. His large hands skimmed down over the dip of your waist and explored the rise and fall of your breath.

You felt him smile against your neck, enjoying your little quick intakes of air as his long fingers began coaxing between your closed thighs.

The softness of your body was a constant allure to Raphael, though he would never admit such a thing to you. With a soft hiss he pressed his hips against your supple backside.

He felt the vibrations of your moans against the hand which cupped your throat, tilting your head back so he could watch your expression. Not to kiss, not yet. But to observe how you reacted as he took you again, locked so tightly in his embrace it appeared as though he'd consumed you.

Your fingers pressed against the tough flesh of his leathery wing, your mouth falling agape as he moved against your trapped body. His tail keeping your legs tightly closed as he shifted his thigh over your hip, the ridge of his knee leaving yet another bruise to mark you as his prized possession.

Raphael's movements became deep and frantic. It wasn't long before you felt his heat spill into your body, causing you to tremble and fall apart in response. You were helpless in his iron grip as waves of pleasure broke over you. His name fell from your lips until he silenced you with his mouth, his tongue almost choking you in its intensity.

He remained inside you, long after your bodies had stilled and cooled somewhat. You didn't mind, the stretch had become familiar, almost a comfort. It felt good to be wanted, to be desired, even if it was as a plaything, a means to an end. You wanted him, in whatever form you were allowed.

So you slept; evidence of his bruising kisses littering your soft skin, his tail flicking lazily against the curve of your hip as he dreamed. His wing remained around you, curling in slightly to tuck against the front of your body, the sharp talon just barely framing your cheek.

Trapped in the arms of your devil, you smiled in your sleep. Content and at peace upon his infernal bed. The bed you'd made for yourself and now enjoyed to every extent for as long as you were afforded.

[reverieblondie]

Raphael ravaging Haarlep while the incubus is wearing Tav's form?

You all are going to give me heart palpations with all these Raphael prompts in my box. This...this is one had me feeling A TYPE OF WAY! when I was rereading it, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Mouse

Raphael x Haarlep in Fem!Tav form

Word count: 1,995

Raphael is getting tired of Haarlep's little games; Raphael knows they have been with someone sneaking through his house. It's been days since he felt what he did, but when he demanded to know who, Haarlep wasn't willing to give away their secret…

"Aww, still refusing to play with me…" Haarlep coos in Raphael's ear. 

Raphael rolls his eyes, closing his book. He turns to the incubus, smirking on their knees, tail wagging eagerly. Taking a long breath, Raphael casts his book aside. "From my understanding, you have been getting in lots of playtime."

"Still irritated by that? Raphael, jealousy is not a good look on you." 

"Not jealous; I just don't like when people go through my things. Or when my things won't tell me what they have been doing…" 

Haarlep pouts, "So I'm being punished all because I made her a promise…" Raphael's eyes widen at the slip; Haarlep shrugs, looking away with a smirk. "Oops…" 

Before Haarlep can slide away, Raphael grabs Haarlep's hair and pulls them close. "Looks like you slipped…and if it's who I think it is…you better show me."

Raphael let's go and let's Haarlep get off the large bed. Then with a glimmering flourish, Raphael watches as his form disappears in the bright light to be replaced with…hers, "Mouse…" He can't help but feel completely entranced by the view of Tav's body beautifully bare to him. Sliding off the bed, Raphael takes everything in; that feeling, that sweet shiver of arousal, was from you. Little mouse… running around his house. Was she looking for him or something else? Raphael feels his heart racing at every thought, but then there is an unfamiliarity with the circumstances of what this means. A storm swirls through him: anger at you sneaking into his house, jealousy that Haarlep got to taste his mouse before he could take a bite, and excitement at what he can do for payback that will make you stir. 

Haarlep sees the storm brewing behind Raphael's brown eyes; they feel so satisfied with themselves, watching Raphael crumble from seeing your form.

"What's the matter? Surprised Raph-"  Raphael's hand is covering their mouth before they can finish. 

"I want you to talk like her…What did she say, do?" 

Raphael removes his hand slowly, and Haarlep lifts a brow before clearing their voice and speaking, "Well, this is a change, Raphael…" 

Raphael feels a shiver of heat go down his spine, It's that sweet voice he has been playing in his mind on a loop. It's like you're actually here, with him in his house of hope. All he can think now is how much he wants to ravage your body, to make Tav feel like he does…

Like Haarlep could read his mind, they reach out to him, your soft hands running up his silk robe, tracing his chest. Fingertips touching the hair of his partly exposed chest. "Feels like a man…" Haarlep drops their hands to pull the robe's tie, letting the silk material slip off him. His cock already stiff making Haarlep chuckle, "But I know what lies underneath."

A deep growl can't help but rumble deep within Raphael's chest. A burst of bright flames surrounds him, changing him into his cambion form, now towering over Tav's body. Raphael's large hand cups your face so softly and delicately, making the fantasy feel even more real to him. Leaning down, he whispers in Tav's ear, warm hand caressing their skin, Breathing hot in their ear, "Tell me what happened, every detail…" 

Haarlep grins and wraps their arms around Raphael's neck, "She was blushing so beautifully. Your sweet little mouse, she wanted to know how your kisses felt, sweet really…" 

Raphael slowly moves his hot hands down, tracing your delicate neck, "You cruel thing. You probably laughed at her…" 

Raphael brings his lips to kiss along your jaw, pulling your form closer to press against his erection. Closing his eyes, he focused on Haarlep imitating your breathing; it's perfect… It's like you're really here. 

"Of course I did; the way she pouted was quite pathetic. I, of course, kissed her with all kinds of passion; little mouse's toes were curling from that alone." 

Raphael grabs Haarleeps face and presses his hot lips to Tavs glossy soft ones, Haarlep plays the part perfectly imitating how timidly you had started in the kiss till finally Rapheal is pushing his eager tongue through the seam of your lips letting himself guide and get drunk on the feeling of your tongue against his. Breaking from the kiss, Raphael looks down at your smirking form. Raphael starts roaming his hands over your curves, his lips kissing and sucking against your skin as he slowly descends, listening to Haarleps hums. 

“You really like her…don’t you…” Raphael pauses, his lips pressed to your hip bone. He darts his hot tongue to taste the sweat on your skin before speaking, "Shut up…" 

Haarlep caresses Raphael's cheek, "look at you… You're practically on your knees for her…a mortal…" 

Raphael lets out a growl before tossing your body to his bed. Haarlep giggles as they bounce against the bed, eating up the rise they are getting from Raphael. Sitting up on their elbows, they watch as Rapheal crawls to your body, glowing eyes looking like those of a predator. Before Haarlep can say another taunting word, Raphael grabs your ankle, flipping Haarlep around to their stomach. Haarlep adjusts to their knees as Rapheal enjoys the view of your ass in the air and your cunt so slick. Raphael groans to himself, mouth watering at the sight. "I intend to devour her…"

"Oh, I bet…" 

Raphael lets out a small chuckle before leaning into your puffy cunt, placing a chaste kiss on your clit, letting his tongue slip to your dripping entrance gathering your want on his burning tongue. He relishes in the taste for a moment before pulling back and swatting your ass, making Haarlep jump. 

"Can she feel me…" 

Haarlep arches their back more slightly, swaying their ass, "I'm sure she is trembling as we speak…" 

Raphael smirks, amused, as he slowly strokes his cock, groaning at the thought of you currently at your camp, hiding away in your tent, touching yourself. Leaning over your form, his hot cock nudging between your slick folds as his velvet voice whispers in your ear. "Show me how she sounded…" 

Haarlep mickes your soft moans, “M-more…Please…I want to feel it AH~” 

Raphael moves his cock faster between your folds, getting coated in the beautiful cyprine weeping down from your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your clit with every mind-numbing nudge, his precum sticking to your cute little clit mixing in with your arousal. Raphael takes his thumb and gathers the sweet release before he pulls Haarlep up by your hair and slathers it to their lips, feeling Haarleps eager tongue licking and sucking on Raphael's thumb, moaning for more, and they rub your ass further on their master's groin. 

Raphael pushes Haarlep back down; they mimic your panting breaths and your soft moans while they shove two fingers into your pretty little slit. Raphael swats away their hands before slipping his cock in you in one swift motion. It's so fucking wet and snug, his mouth waters at the thought of you right now…so full of him and so frustrated…are you rubbing your cunt on your pillow? Fingering yourself with two fingers trying so hard to reach those deep spots…Poor mouse, he would help you; you're his favorite, after all. 

Rapheals rolls his hips as he digs his nails into your waist, pulling to his tip and then slamming you back down, relishing in how Haarlep gasps for air every time. Their cunt squeezing him with every thrust. "R-Raphael, ah~ I'm so so full!"  

Raphael smirks as he leans down, keeping his pace, "Mmm, My mouse said that?" he questions Haarlep as he places kisses down your spine, his hands moving to your breast to pinch your nipples and tug roughly to get Haarlep to answer. 

Haarlep chuckles and bites their lip, "Well, substitute the name, but yes…I fucked her tight cunt stretching it to your cock, S-she st-studders, and ah~ Ah~ cries when F-fucked!" Rapheals rhythm speeds up, and his grip tightens. Your noises, your voice, he wants it for himself; he wants to witness your flushed face, your bouncing breast as he reclaims you for his own. Haarlep had you; now it's his turn; he will make the incubus watch from the side, then make them lick up your messy cunt when he spills his seed in you. 

The thought of your puff cunt dribbling out his thick seed is all he can think of as he keeps slamming his cock into your gummy walls. He wants to go deeper, abuse your cunt till your womb is opened for him so he can fill you up, "Gonna fill you up…fuck my spawn into your tight cunt…keep you full forever." Your pussy has his cock in a vise grip as his cock throbs his rutting driving deeper into you. Though he is pounding your pussy,  his hands turn to more caressing. His hands roam over your perfect form, your skin like silk, your sweet smell he wants to always have lingering on him, then your voice, crying out his name and moaning so cutely, it's better then any composition he's heard before.

Raphael feels his cock nudging against your would-be cervix; he brings his hand around to your stomach, where he feels his cock. Pressing on it, he groans from the feeling and your fucking mewing. That's when Haarlep starts to feel Rapheals veins pulsing on his cock, the sensation warming your velvet walls and threatening the release of their arousal to flood against his cock, though Haarlep knows better than to cum before Rapheal wants it…

As Rapheal's pace gets sloppy, so does his breathing, and so does his mind…

“My Mouse…you feel like perfection…” He licks against your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as his fingers come to rub against Haarlep's swollen clit, so sticky from your fluids flooding over them. 

"Rapheal, M-My devil…Ah, please..ah, please!" 

Raphael growls at the sounds of your begging, fuck, he wants to hear it endlessly, your sweet submission as he finally ravishes you fully. "Cum for me…let it wash over you…let me feel it…"

With a loud cry, your fucking your hips back onto him as you feel the overwhelming heat rushing through your veins of your orgasm.  Raphael cums right after you, his cock throbbing as it pushes out his thick cum deep into you. He groans and steadily tries to catch his Breath as his length stays buried within you. Whisper praises are sung into your skin before he slowly pulls out of you, his hand rubbing your stomach tenderly as he does. 

Raphael wraps his arms around your small form and brings you to his chest, his nose buried in your hair as the smell of the sex slowly starts to dissipate from the boudoir. In this moment of peace, he begins to feel your body shake, followed by a familiar laugh. It's still your body but no longer your voice from the vessel. Haarlep smirks, looking up at the devil, "So tender for the little mouse… I'm sure she would be very receptive to your…cuddling." They can hardly get through the sentence before bursting with laughter. 

Raphael goes to say something as he pushes Haarlep away when he senses something…a visitor? Haarlep goes to continue their teasing when Raphael slams his massive hand over their face shhing them. 

Everything is quiet for a moment before the sound of loud crashing and slamming doors comes from the halls. "Where are they!" your voice yells through the house. Haarleps' eyes widen in delight as Raphael watches the door in anticipation…his tail slightly swaying in excitement…. It looks like they made you hot and bothered, perfect.

[darlingdekarios]

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[pentuppen]

Kinda mad my no romance limit mod doesn't have the same effect...

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 1, In Which You Install The Mod

FOREWORD: inspired by this post

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

***

You hesitated for a moment before downloading this “Devil Wears Nada” mod. It felt slightly inappropriate, absurd as it may sound. There was something disrespectful about making Raphael deliver his final monologue in the nude.

Well, you would have to live with offending a bunch of pixels because you do want these screenshots. You put the salt and vinegar Pringles out of the way and wiped your fingers on a napkin before committing this digital sin.

Clickity-click-click. You dragged-and-dropped the mod where you wanted it to be and launched Steam. Now to load the saved game where you made the deal with the devil and gave him the crown of Karsus… pretty much any saved game really. 

Raphael had been spared in each one of your playthroughs.

A sigh escaped you when the devil still appeared fully clothed in the game; had something gone wrong? You double-checked, only to realize that you'd forgotten to activate the mod - odd, since you clearly remembered doing so. Leaving the game, you dragged the mod back into place.

On your phone, in the Devil's Den discord chat, you informed everyone of Raphael's stubborn refusal to undress.

MAKE HIM! came the immediate reply, followed by STRIP THE OLD MAN, accompanied by raunchy gifs. Couldn't help but grin at that.

Back in the game, you loaded an earlier save file and sank into your chair to watch Raphael emerge from the flames, clothed once again. “You son of a…”, you muttered to yourself. It was getting late anyway; this would be your last attempt before calling it a day. Tomorrow is Tuesday and thus another work day. 

“It won’t be long before you come knocking at my door”, Raphael said, looking straight at you from the wide screen. This wall-breaking sequence was brilliantly executed—you had to admit it—very eerie.

Raphael let out a deep, hearty laugh, head thrown back, pearly teeth glistening in orange-red lighting. You didn’t see this animation before. They must have added it with the latest patch, so you moved in closer. 

Handsome as sin, this devil - if he asked for your soul, you’d hand it over on a silver platter.

Suddenly, he fell silent for several seconds, staring directly at you from across the digital divide. You reached for the mouse to check if there was a glitch in the cutscene when Raphael's voice sliced through the silence.

“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse,” Raphael taunted.

What the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK!?

You recoiled in shock and slammed your laptop shut. A shriek must have escaped your lips, but you were too stunned to notice. It took a moment for your heart to settle and for you to remember what date it was today.

A quick glance over the watch on your wrist confirmed: it was the first of April. April first, two thousand and twenty-four. 

It was an April Fool's joke from the modders.

Oh, fuck. Having recovered from the initial shock, you cautiously opened your notebook, only to be greeted by the familiar "ta-ta" outro. Oh, fuck. This is some kind of really fucked-up prank. How did they get this voice line?

AI, probably. Not probably. Definitely. There was no way they could have involved Andrew Wincott.

You scanned the game screen for any other surprises, but found none. Picking up your phone, you opened Discord and began recording a long voice message - your fingers too clammy to type.

The replies came soon after.

Haha, this is so fucked up, did they really do this? Hm. I have to try it myself. RECORD IT, RECORD IT PLEASE!

You stared at the loading screen but couldn't bring yourself to replay it. Instead, you searched “Raphael naked mod April joke” and clicked on the first Reddit thread that popped up. You didn't even bother to open it; a quick glance at the preview comment – “crazy I almost had a heart attack” – was more than enough.

Enough for today.

You quickly brushed your teeth in the bathroom and changed into short pajamas before glancing at the laptop on the other side of the room, its camera eye peering at you from across the room. You closed the shutter.

“Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you”, you read somewhere.

You tucked yourself into bed, phone in hand, blanket between your legs. Was it time for a quick stroll through selected Raphael / Tav bookmarks?

No. Well, maybe. The threesome with Haarlep, just a quick re-read to help you fall asleep quicker. You were creeped out, but not that creeped out. You’ve heard of such meta jokes before. Black & White did it, Metal Gear Solid did it, too. 

But still… they really should tag this sort of stuff.

Your nightly reading was progressing nicely; things were getting interesting - “the ridges of his devil cock stroking your sensitive walls” interesting. Your hand slid into your underwear, working your finger past your hair down to your clit. This scene was very well written, you could almost feel it, picture yourself spread open between Haarlep and Raphael. 

The smut got better and better right until your phone vibrated in your hand, and you dropped it on the blanket.

Unknown caller ID.

Don't answer it, came the panicked, irrational thought as it grabbed you in a chokehold. 

You stared at the screen - the call went on and on - and pushed it aside. Swiped to the right in one quick motion and heard an automated female voice:

"This call is from Europol. We would like to inform you that your identity card number has been misused. For further information please press 1."

You hung up immediately, recognizing this as one of those scam calls that had been making rounds throughout Europe recently. Your mum had received one too. 

Nothing to lose sleep over.

You put the phone down and turned your back to it, trying to calm down. Screw the fanfic, you were not in the mood anymore. Well, you were, but…

Another time. 

It took some time before you could relax, your gaze fixed on the blank wall in front of you, re-playing that cutscene all over again in your head, occasionally wandering to the large window looking out over the courtyard (what a pitch black night). 

Eventually, you did. 

As you drifted off to sleep, a voice whispered in your dream:

“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse”.

The silky soft voice was so lovely; it made you feel less alone. A small smile crossed your lips as you slept.

Yes, Raphael. Very eager indeed. 

Tomorrow. You’ll try again tomorrow.

NEXT: Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger

[dark-and-kawaii]

your writing makes me go so fucking feral dude oh my god

could i request a haarlep/reader and raphael/reader nsfw blurb or literally anything? i eat your writing up like it's my last meal

☆ Tʜᴇɪʀ Lᴏᴠᴇʟʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Tᴏʏ ☆

₊˚⊹♡ Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢs: Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader ✧ Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Cᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: NSFW ✧ Soft Haarlep Towards End ✧ Possessive Raphael ✧ Filling You With So Much Cum Your Tummy Feels Full ✧ Big Pretty Ridged Cocks ✧ Breeding You ✧ Creampie ✧ Stretching You Nicely

₊˚⊹♡ Nᴏᴛᴇ: Awh ♡ ♡ ♡ Thank You So Much For Enjoying My Work xoxo!!! I Did Both Because Both Of Them Are Perfection!!! I Hope You Love This My Dear ♡ ♡ ♡ May This Feed Your Soul And Your Horniness xoxo ♡ ♡ ♡

Hᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ

“Who said you can rest, dove~”

Haarlep lifted your limp body with ease, his nails kissing your hips as he held your abused hole above his thick cock. The creatures cum drooling from your twitching pussy, making quite the mess on his lap, “Is this really the best your body can do? How disappointing.” He pouts mockingly, “We were only just getting started, little love~”

The incubus’ lips pulled into a sharp grin as his tail curled around your thigh to spread your leg wider for him. The tip of his cock teasing your opening, pushing into the sloppy mess your body was.

You were so tired… So, so tired… Sore, and exhausted. You had lost count of how many times you came and how many times Haarlep did. But you still couldn't help but cry out as Haarlep impaled you on his beautiful veiny cock once again, your head lolled back before your body slumped forward onto his chest, “Ahhh~♡ Ha-Haarleeeerp~ Th-e tip of y-your dick and n’my cervix are touching n’kissing each other~~~♡ Aahh~ It h-hurts so s’good~! Y-Yur gonna rip m-my n’insides~ ♡ Aaahha~”

A low purr rumbled in Haarlep's chest at your words as he started bouncing you on his cock, “What a good little toy~ You're taking me so well, dove~! Such a lovely little plaything~” Your breast, smushed so wonderfully against his chest, rubbed against his warm skin with each thrust, and he could feel how those cute perky nipples had gotten hard against him, “even though we’ve had our fun so many times now, you still react so nicely~ and you’re still so wonderfully tight~” his tongue licks against your cheek, lapping at the sweat that drenched your lovely flushed skin, “it almost feels like my cock is being strangled~”

Your arms wrapped around Haarlep's neck, and you held on tight, trying your best to match his pace and movements, your insides stretched and stuffed, the head of his cock hitting the entrance of your womb with each bounce, “s’too rough. M-my insides ngh~ a-are being bullied~ ♡ I- I feel like I'm gonna diee~ aahh~! ♡♡ Y-you're g-gonna break m-me~♡” You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

The creature knew how to make you break, knew how to make those pretty eyes of yours glaze over and roll into the back of your skull until tears dripped down your cheeks. Knew how to make those soft little noises come from your lips as you were fucked dumb.

“I would never allow that, sweet dove~ What fun would I have if you were broken before our time was up~?” His tail loosened around your leg and slid up your body, the tip of it flicking and brushing against your skin, his eyes narrowing, “Besides, if you were to die, who would let me have my fill~? And then, who would make such delicious, delectable noises just for me, little dove~?”

You were unable to respond, his thrusts too much for your poor mind… Unable to feel the way his arms were now securely wrapped around you, keeping you close. How his tail curled protectively against your back, or the soft way his eyes gazed at you…

You were unable to see just how gentle and caring his expression was as he fucked you. How the way his mouth parted, the fangs that had previously torn through your flesh and left behind bloody, purple marks, now glistened with saliva as he whispered, cooed and moaned, sweet words just for you, his little dove… Yes you were, his little dove, the one who came to him and gave him your life and body.

His sweet, lovely, little dove.

Rᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ

Your face was pressed into his mattress, his clawed hand tangled in your tousled locks as his hips snap against you, each thrust eliciting a sharp gasp or moan from those pretty bruised lips of yours. He had his other large hand splayed across the small of your back, holding you in place. His ridged cock pushing the cum he dumped into you further until it takes up every inch of space, making you feel full and stuffed.

“R-Raphael~! Pleassse! W-wait!!” You whimper pathetically, voice cracking as he ruts harder against you.

He leans over you, his hot breath washing over your back, causing goosebumps to erupt over your heated skin, before he growls lowly, “You were clearly reveling in the moment just a moment ago; do not retreat into shyness now, my little bird.”

Little bird, or rather little songbird as he usually says… Was his most recent pet name for you simply because he enjoyed the way you sung his name like a songbird as your body convulsed with each orgasm he wrung out of you.

Raphael licked a long, slow stripe up your spine, chuckling as you shiver and squirmed beneath him, mewling softly, before he nuzzles your neck and whispers huskily in your ear, his voice deep and gravelly, his tone alone sending a rush of heat to your face, “You're mine, leaking my seed. Do you not yet comprehend? I aim to ensure that your womb is nourished on this day.”

Your lips fell open, your eyes widening and cheeks flushing as his words settled in the deepest parts of your mind. The very thought of being bred by this devil, of his warm seed taking root within your belly, it made your head dizzy, “I-I’m-I... I-I'm- m’your- y-yours~” You slur, tongue heavy as you speak, “S’good~ m’your property~”

Raphael chuckles and pulls away, only to flip you over onto your back and then grab your thighs and pull them up, his hands moving to hook them behind your knees, pressing them close to your chest, “Indeed, my lovely little songbird, you belong to me.”

His hand caresses your cheek, a thumb running across your lips, pulling the bottom one down, a string of saliva connecting the digit and your lip, “Your lips,” his nail bites into the supple flesh, dragging across, splitting it, and the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue, making him moan as he watches you lick it up, a dark, hungry look in his eye, “your tongue, ah such a pleasurable anatomy” he slips a digit onto your tongue, groaning as you swirl it around his thick finger, “your womb” his finger leaves your mouth with a wet plop and your saliva as it trails down between your breasts until he finds where your bodies are joined.

A small bulge present beneath your navel, and he presses his palm flat against it, making you arch your back as his cock throbs and twitches inside of you, “your soul…“ He grinds his hips, pushing his cock deeper and harder against that spot, making you squeal, the bulge growing more pronounced and causing your stomach to distend as the tip of his cock nudges against your cervix, “all of you belongs to me.”

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

prompt. loquacious devil gets his cake and eats it: telepathy during cunnilingus.

When he offered you a reward and you told him what you wanted, you didn't expect him to agree. So when he did, since you've been such a good little mouse after all, you couldn't contain your excitment, giddily scrambling onto the bed. The devil laughed at you, a little mean, observing you languidly.

"My, my. How eager you are to see me on my knees - metaphorically or not. Perhaps I should be concerned..."

"No," you said, aware of the line to tread around Raphael. He liked it when you begged, when you simpered, when you wanted him. He liked it when you were bold. He didn't like when you were audacious. When you dared to push above your station. "I just - your mouth on me...it's..."

"Oh?" An eyebrow raised on Raphael's handsome face, a sly smile spreading his pretty, thin lips. "Is it a fantasy of yours, pet? A naughty thought that has kept you warm at night when you're lonely in your bed?"

"Yes," you murmured. Fought not to combust with embarassment at the salacious way the devil smirked at you. He was delighted by this information, you knew. His tail swayed to and fro.

"Well," he purred, "far be it from me to deny you something you've longed for."

Like a huge red panther, Raphael crawled onto the bed after you. His feline smile never faded. His big wings flexed. His size dwarfed you. You watched him, your heart pounding with anticipation. Blood roared in your ears. You let your thighs fall open for the devil's broad frame, gasping in surprise when he clicked his fingers and your trousers and small-clothes disappeared. You stuffed your knuckles in your mouth and bit them. To have Raphael between your legs like this was as electric and arousing as you imagined, but in hindsight, potentially dangerous; a predatory gleam in his eye, sharp teeth so close to your softest, most vulnerable parts...he had less penchant for biting than his incubus, but you knew from experience the possibility definitely wasn't off the table. A testament to how doomed you were that the threat didn't frighten you.

(You had no idea.)

"What's this?" Raphael crooned. Tilted his head. Dragged one claw through the softness of your pubic curls to brush over your clit and between your mons. You took in a sharp breath, but Raphael simply pulled his finger away to show you it was coated in slick. He was deeply amused. "Wet already and I haven't even started yet...how utterly pathetic your desperation for me is. But fret not, my sweet, wanton little mouse. I can keep a secret."

Before you could say anything, he sucked his claw clean, humming as he did so. "Not bad. This won't be as much of a chore as I thought."

Raphael, squatting in the space between your knees, grabbed the meat of your thighs and widened their spread, stretching almost to the point of pain. You liked the discomfort. The threat of ten sharp points, ten cambion claws piercing your skin and drawing blood. The devil stared at your sex, so close each hot puff of his breath tingled, raising all the baby hairs on your arms and the back of your neck. He stared until you began to squirm.

"Raphael," you whispered.

The devil chuckled, a deep and throaty sound that, quite literally, went to your cunt. Without fanfare, his rough warm tongue lolled out and licked you from the base of your sex to the top of your clit in a single, harsh swipe. You whined, biting deep into your own knuckles. Your other hand longed to grip one of Raphael's mighty horns, but you knew that you weren't to touch him until he allowed it, so instead you twisted your fingers into the sheets beneath you. He squeezed your flesh in his big red hands tighter, claws scratching light welts. Again he licked, and again, and again, and again; hard, harder, sloppy, effortlessly rolling the meat of his tongue against your entrance, teased it with its separate forked tips, spreading your gooey slick around as he pleased. Your back arched, pushing your aching sex into his face. Encouraging him to enter you. Lick you inside and out.

"Yes, please please please..."

So greedy. I'm already rewarding you with my generous service, and yet you're still asking for more. Perhaps I've spoiled you too much.

You twitched. You heard the devil's voice clear as day, but his mouth was occupied. You opened your eyes (you didn't know when you had closed them) and glanced down. Though he was buried in your snatch, Raphael’s reptilian eyes, onyx and fire, were fixed on you. His gaze was searing. What a fucking sight. Your stomach dropped, and then it roiled with shock and desire. He was in your head, you realised. Sifting through your thoughts like sheets of paper, projecting his words directly into your consciousness. Of course he would find a way to keep talking despite having his mouth full of pussy.

Crass.

"It's...mmm, ahh, my mind..."

Wrong. You belong to me, don't forget. What's yours is mine.

That shouldn't have thrilled you as much as it did. You felt Raphael's amusement and satisfaction about that as though it were your own. Your body trembled, guts taut. He was sucking on your labia, flattening his tongue to rub on your slick flesh everywhere except where you wanted.

Suck my clit, you thought, please, I need you to suck my clit.

You couldn't control your thoughts, though, mind racing about how gorgeous, how handsome, how beautiful he looked all the time as though he'd been carved to life by hellish angels, how fucking incredible he was between your legs, how you could come just by watching him down there because he painted such an erotic portrait lapping at your pussy that you'd be masturbating to the memory for the rest of your life but it would never feel as good as it did now, oh please suck my clit...

Hells. It was a groan, gruff, a tad irritated, but you sensed the desire in him, the fire you were igniting in his blood as you stroked his ego. Your thoughts are so chaotic, so loud. I'm tempted to lobotomise you, my needy little pet, but then whose desperate, carnal fantasies about myself would I indulge in, if not yours?

Finally, at last, he took pity on you. Enveloped your swollen clit in the moist cavern of his mouth. Sucked hard. So hard his fangs scraped you. You squealed, you couldn't help it, your legs clamping around his head. He seemed to like that. His arousal, his true fiendish nature, began leaking into his projected thoughts.

So warm. So pliant. How good your sopping quim tastes. I can smell your sweet mortal blood pumping through your veins, you know. You would let me tear you open and drink straight from the still-beating source, wouldn't you? Yesss...such a good little creature you are...

You'd let him take you to pieces. You'd do it yourself if he asked. You rutted against his face, rolling your hips in desperate pursuit of the violent orgasm you could feel pulling at all the strings that made you a person. Strings held by this devil, the puppeteer of your ruin, and your salvation. You loved him. You adored him.

And now he knew. Shit.

This time you physically felt his dark, smug, infernal satisfaction like the scuttling legs of spiders across your brain. The cruel smile pulling his lips around your fat clit. How utterly you had ruined yourself. He had ruined you.

Oh, you poor thing. You can't keep a secret at all. He cooed to your very quivering soul. Slid his serpentine tongue up your entrance suddenly, a selfish invasion, groaning in dark delight when your insides clamped around it and you shrieked. Grabbed his horns reflexively. He let you, fragmented thoughts drifting by of you split on his cock and screaming as he writhed and rutted and emptied his balls, filled you and fucked you and bred you over and over and over. You were taking his tongue so well. You'd take everything else, too. So, so greedy. But that's alright. We're going to have such fun together...aren't we?

[lanafofana]

Temptation

Pairing: Raphael x Tav(f)

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: She won't sign another contract but she’s not opposed to a different kind of deal

Rating: Explicit [🔞MINORS DNI]

Warning: Porn! Filthy depraved devil porn! A little bit of hate sex (PnV with a little PVP), ( she throws hands twice)(but he's into it). Cunnilingus, because it wouldn't be a Lana fic if a tongue wasn't getting shoved in someone's [redacted]. A little bit of toxic relationship dynamics at play (devil gonna devil). SMUT SMUT SMUT

No beta, we die like pumpkin pie (listen, it's been a long night)

💖✨Kudos to @dr-demi-bee for the prompt✨💖

AO3 Link here for all who celebrate the time honored tradition of validating authors via kudos etc etc etc

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Raphael doesn't look surprised to see her anymore. Merely gives her a look when she finds him on the balcony of his Archive and snaps his fingers to conjure her a drink that appears in her hand before returning his attention back to the fiend giving him some kind of report in the guttural language of the infernal.

She slips away, perusing his collection of tomes from some kingdom long dead and sipping at her wine. It's too sweet, cherry rich and decadent but the alcohol burns pleasantly warm in her belly. Later, sprawled across a lavish settee, an open book in her lap, Tav is trying to untangle a web of mental snares that have put her in a melancholy mood of late when Raphael finds her.

He doesn't say anything for a long time but she can feel his gaze taking her in with more precision now that he can afford his full attention to the task. The predator, sizing up the prey. Her skin prickles.

She's returned to his house with more frequency of late and though he’s never brought it up she’s struck with the sudden anxiety that she is overstaying her welcome. Draining her glass of wine she swishes the liquid around her mouth while watching the crystal goblet refill in a blink. He's never asked why she’s decided to help herself to his company or tries to dissuade her attention when she comes calling. There's a mystery there she’s too afraid to pursue. She sighs and takes another drink.

Footsteps, steady and deliberately slow, approach. The predator, stalking their prey. Turning a page in the book she isn't reading Tav pretends his proximity doesn't send a bolt of heat and fear fizzling along her spine. In her peripheral he stops, a looming metaphor for the direction her choices are driving her to. A finger, warm and familiar, presses against the soft vulnerable space just past the jut of her chin and tilts her face to meet his.

“Have you come to bargain?” His dark eyes drink in her face, giving nothing away.

He already knows the answer to that question but she answers it anyway, deriving a weird sort of comfort from the repetitive nature of this exchange they've replayed so many times they might as well have memorized a script.

“No.”

His eyes narrow and she doesn't hear the snap but her wine glass and book both vanish. Standing involves significantly more motor skills than she presently possesses so, with a smirk, the devil offers her a courteous hand and hauls her up. Her breasts graze against the broad expanse of his chest before she gains her bearings and straightens. He doesn't let go of her hand.

“What then do you seek from the House of Hope?” His voice is mocking but his eyes are hungry. Tav knows the steps to this dance by heart but she’s hungry too. Famished.

Grasping the collar of his opulent coat she tugs him into her orbit, sliding a hand into his hair and pressing her lips to his. He tastes like hellfire and forbidden fruit.

The edges of her vision white out for a moment when he displaces them to his quarters, his infernal magic buzzes against her tongue pleasantly. Pressing close with nothing but fabric between them she shifts, a calculated movement to stoke the fire of his desire.

“Crawling and secret she constructs her own web, a trap for her prey, fallen into instead.” Raphael wedges his knees between her legs and, hands tight on her hips, bows her back to wrest control from her. Dizzy with drink and anxiety and lust Tav grinds against his thigh, seeking the friction that will at last unwind her mind.

“Needs work,” she critiques unnecessarily, breathless and smirking. He nips her bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh taunt in chastisement but it makes her lashes flutter, her clit throbbing against his thigh.

Huffing a laugh at his petulance she pulls away. Pulling her clothes loose and discarding them under his dark gaze while backing towards the bed. The backs of her knees hitting the edge of the mattress, she beckons and –after a moment– he follows, unbuttoning his doublet slowly.

“Go on then,” she teases, heedless of the black warning in his face, “Seduce me with your limerick.”

“A mouthwatering fruit, this human heart.” He sheds his jacket, the shirt too, preening under her appreciative stare. “Devastating, damned, and doomed from the start.”

She swallows, mouth dry as he approaches and comes to a stop close enough to feel the heat off his skin.

“Dazzling, delicious but,” he looks at her critically for a moment, “Not very rare, this cracking soul is fetid with,” Raphael leans in, to take in her scent deeply. Closing his eyes he murmurs lasciviously, breath hot against her ear, “Despair.”

She throbs with need.

Wrapping a hand around her throat he pauses only long enough to take her pulse, sneering at the staccato beat, before sliding his hand down her chest, to her breast. With both hands he gropes her roughly, squeezing and tugging at her nipples till they pucker, rosy and stiff. The expression on his face hasn't changed much, cold and disdainful but his eyes. She shivers under the blistering heat of them.

“Take what you came here for, creature.”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before her hands are on him pulling him close with a rough hand in his hair, yanking his head to the side, putting her teeth to his throat.

She bites him savagely, electric at the needy whine he tries to stifle unsuccessfully. She laves her tongue against the red teeth marks soothingly, hands on his shoulders. His hands have migrated too, palming the swell of her ass. When she runs the edge of her teeth down the column of his throat and licks the dip of his collar bone he smacks an asscheek, the crack sharp and loud in the otherwise quiet room.

In retaliation she sinks her teeth into his shoulder so hard he repeats the action on her other asscheek. She cries out, her inner walls slamming down on nothing.

“Tell me, my dear,” his voice, rough and deep, is commanding. Tav clenches her thighs together in response.

Nothing and no one comes for free in the House of Hope. Each visit to his bed, a transaction between her hunger for his body and his hunger for her pain. Their unspoken devil’s pact. She knows exactly what he wants and her stomach flips in trepidation.

Hands full of her ass he is not gentle when he pulls her against him, grinding her against the hard length of him through his trousers. She whimpers, drawing her nails across his shoulders and scoring livid marks into his skin. “Tell me,” he repeats, a furious snarl, as he shoves her to the bed.

“Then ask, you fucking monster,” she hisses, hitting the mattress with a soft ‘oof’ as the wind is briefly knocked from her lungs.

He follows her descent, aiming to cage her body with his but a spike of adrenaline has her scrambling out from under him. Awkwardly she heaves her way to the head of the bed but he’s faster – stronger– and he snatches her ankle in a fierce grip, dragging her back within range.

Wrapping himself around her, thick cock against her ass, bruising fingers holding her captive against his chest he chuckles. The sound chills her in the same way it sends another trickle of wet desire between her legs.

Close to her ear he breathes his full query at last. “What is the root of your despair?” Her stomach sinks down to her toes, the red flush of her desire doused cold.

What was your last wickedly depraved thought, he's asked her before. When did the thrill of bloodlust last blind you completely to sense; do you hate anyone more than you've hated yourself? She may have never signed another contract with him but somehow he’s found a way to drain her soul, piecemeal, all the same.

“Tell me,” he murmurs against her skin, parting her thighs to drag a finger along her slick wet slit.

The reason for the wine becomes clear to her in that moment. She’s never had inhibitions where sex is concerned. Has never considered it a trial to use her body and let it be used for its skill with a blade, on either side of the sheets.

But put enough wine down her throat and inevitably the secret hurts that haunt her begin to spill out from between her lips.

The devil growls at her hesitation, flipping her over and pinching a nipple between his teeth slightly too hard. Demanding her attention and supplication in all things.

“I–,” she gasps and leaves half moon indentations on his skin when he sticks his tongue in her belly button, swirling his tongue there lazily. “I’m sad, all the time,” she confesses in a rush like it will hurt less to say it fast. Her heart pounds. “I hide from my friends, from everyone, and suffer alone. I’ve always been alone, I’m pretty sure I'll always be alone because it’s–” her breath hitches on a strangled sob when he just barely presses his thumb to her clit and leaves it there, teasing. Torturing. She doesn't want him to ever stop. “I’m too much to be around. Too much unhappiness in one person to inflict on anyone else.”

“Self pity,” Raphael groans with relish and she bristles because of course he's right. “Never looked so lovely than on the utterly pathetic,” the words burn, as they're intended to. “Look at you, mourning yourself to the point of self destruction.”

Blood rushes to the surface of her skin, blooming red and hot across her throat and cheeks. Within her bosom she aches. Raphael hums with pleasure, as drunk on her internal agony as he is on her body.

Feeling flayed open she wails, hands scrabbling for purchase on his skin and in the rumpled bedding, when he sinks a finger fast –and hard–and deep in her dripping, aching cunt. She bites her lip and breathes through the discomfort of letting him see her. The despair and self pity on full display for his perusal. He feasts on her pain like a man deprived of fresh air, reveling in the cocktail of humiliation, fear, and miserably pathetic sorrow.

“Entrust me with your soul and you'll never be alone again, for as long as your pitiful soul flickers,” he vows, working a second digit in with the first. She’s so wet her lips squelch lewdly around his scissoring fingers to punctuate his words.

He means it too. It's far from the first –or the last– time he has promised an eternity to her. Her soul nestled within his grasp forever, damnation tempered with endless companionship. A demon’s version of love. Eternal ownership. The ache in her chest sharpens to a knife’s edge. Thrusting her hips against his hand, her breathing changes, getting deeper and faster as her orgasm inches tantalizingly closer.

Her legs are open but her heart's been closed so long the hinges squeak and grind in complaint at being disturbed. Maybe that's why his canny words rend instead of pierce, like they're claws mauling instead of hands gently stroking. Devils don't know kindness but there's a world of gentleness in the way he peels open her ribcage to curl up in her chest cavity with his insidious intent.

“Kiss me,” she begs. Begs, hoping it will be enough to stem the tide of his incendiary words. Words spoken with the intent to hurt, to disturb, to split the cobbled pieces of her being back into shattered fragments he can hold in his hands. To mold her, shaping her to his will. Without ceremony he crushes her with his mouth, his body, and his desire.

Raphael moves against her, heavy and too big, a threat and a promise that tastes like cherry wine and feels like coming home. The kiss, a miscalculation on her part, steals his voice but replaces wounding words with bruising force. Shoving his tongue into her mouth he seeks only to consume and she moans around the wet intrusion, curling a hand tightly into the hair at the nape of his neck until he hisses against her teeth.

She lets him continue only for so long before the hand she has locked in his hair tugs viscously and she gets a glimpse of his pupils blown wide before his eyes flutter closed. The Archduke Supreme would never admit to his proclivities in bed but he’s not the only one studying his prey during their encounters.

She maneuvers until he's beneath her, breath stuttering in his chest as his ardor intensifies with her forceful take over. The meticulous Archduke Supreme, Lord of the Nine Entire, Devil of False Hope, Cania’s Conquerer might have eaten her whole for the audacity of asking for control in the bedroom but when she takes it…

He groans, squirming and wanton, when she peels herself away from his lips to sink the fingers of one hand around his throat while the fingers of her other hand tug on the laces of his breeches.

“Tav,” he growls, the reverberation of his vocal chords against her hand shooting directly to the heat that burns in her core.

She pulls her hand from around his throat to pull back and strike him across the face. His hips surge up against her desperately. “Silence,” she warns, nimble fingers slipping his throbbing cock from its confines.

The fat head is wet, a glistening mess of his own precum. The smell makes her mouth water. Wrapping her hand around the shaft she pulls at him experimentally, running the calloused pad of her thumb across the leaking slit on top and along the thick vein beneath his glans until he whimpers. The sound makes her smile, the power of her unique position sending a rush of wet slick through the lips of her vulva, dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Moving the hand she just had wrapped around his erection to her own throbbing need she drinks in his expression while he watches her fuck herself on two fingers. She leans back to give him a better view while she circles her own clit, biting her lip and shifting her hips in time with the movements until she’s close, almost too close.

The devil never looks more beautiful than when he’s languishing untouched, desperate and needy and simmering with helpless fury.

“Open that pretty maw, creature,” she sneers, an echo of his earlier epithet.

Obediently his lips part and she leans forward, shoving her fingers into his mouth, pressing against the molten heat of his tongue.

“Suck.”

Tav's eyes flutter, nearly rolling to the back of her skull as the Duke follows her instruction, locking his lips around her slick coated fingers and sucking hard enough to tear her soul through her fingertips. She moans, positioning herself above his pelvis and undulating her hips to rub his delicious head through her slippery folds.

Inside his mouth his tongue swirls across the pads of her fingers and he echoed her moans; pleasing, pretty, broken little sounds that have her sinking onto his cock halfway in her excitement. He bucks, too sharp teeth grazing erotically against her fingers and she withdraws them to backhand him; whip fast and snapping his lust drunk face to the side. He gasps and she revels in the feeling of him jumping against the walls of her sex.

Pulling herself upright she arches her back, giving him a pretty view as she plays with her own breasts, running the tips of her fingers along the goose pimpled flesh of her abdomen.

“Like what you see, devil?” She taunts, sinking a little more around his girth. “Tell me, Archduke,” she smiles cruelly. “Tell me how much you want to fuck this sweet mortal cunt.” She twists her nipples and sinks a little lower on his cock, watching the expressions flit across his face faster than he probably even registers them. She smiles, all teeth. “Beg.”

“Please!” He doesn't even hesitate, voice gone tight. “Please, let me feel you sink that perfect tight cunt onto my cock.” He releases the most delicious open mouthed whine when she does, enveloping him completely. “Please!” He blurts, hands fisting in the bedding, muscles quivering with the restraint to keep from fucking into her.

The stretch is nothing short of divine. Her hips yearn to move, to rock against him, grinding his hips into the bed but she pauses, balancing on the precipice.

“Please, what?” She demands, relishing in the widening of his eyes, the way his mouth hangs open.

“Please,” his eyes close briefly and he swallows thickly, “Archduchess Supreme, My Lady Eternal.”

“Good boy,” she murmurs, warmth suffusing her entirely when he keens at the praise.

Planting her hands on his chest she wastes no more time, fucking herself on his thick cock; fast and hard and rough. Between her fingers she pinches his nipples, leaning forward to swallow his cries as she rides him to the brink. Between her thighs he cants his hips, mindlessly matching her thrust for thrust as his orgasm barrels within reach.

She slips a hand between their bodies, pinching her swollen clit and cries out his name and a litany of swearing as she crests her final peak. Her mind whites out, the walls of her cunt bearing down on his cock so tightly he spills into her with an inarticulate groan.

Their bliss reached, their movements stutter clumsily to a stop, chests heaving and breathless pants peppering the air with the soft sounds of post coital exhaustion.

Tav disengages from Raphael's body slowly, flushing at the rush of slippery fluid that leaks out of her. The devil looks at the mess between her legs, unabashed, a pleased smirk hovering in the corners of his mouth.

Running a finger through their combined spend, shivering on the cusp of overstimulation, she holds his gaze as she reaches up to paint his lips with it.

He doesn't even blink, licking the shine of his own seed from his lips and making a pleased noise, deep in his chest, that echoes in the throb of her empty cunt. Leaning into him, chest to chest, Tav chases the taste of them on his tongue with a redolent kiss, slow and tender. His hands drift along her sweat slick skin, raising goose bumps with each delicate graze of his nails.

Wrapping his arms around her Raphael flips them, startling a sound from her that he chases with teeth and an amused chuckle. Before she registers what he's doing the devil is wedged between her legs, pushing one of her legs wide, fingers sunk tightly into the plush thickness of her thigh while the fingers of his other hand part the puffy lips of her sex.

He stares, transfixed, for only a moment before he bends his head, slotting his lips against her wet, sticky heat. The predator devours the prey. The gluttonous wet sounds of him licking and suckling at her sex sends her brain rocketing away on a tidal wave of sensation. She grasps the back of his head in shock and a haze of overwhelming arousal.

“Raphael!” She cries out when he locks his lips around her clit and sucks. “Nnnggg– ahhh!!”

“Say my name again,” he growls, immediately spearing her with his tongue and twisting to lap at every drop of her slick heat. “Say it!”

“Ra– Raphael! Oh– nnngggahhh!!” If she is his Archduchess then he is her god and she cries out to him, exultantly. “Raphael! Yes! Yes! RAPH–”

He hums his pleasure and the vibration has her sinking both hands into his hair, pressing him closer– harder–

She flexes her hips, rocking against the sensation of his mouth taking her apart, heart slamming against her ribs as her mind spirals faster and faster and–

“RAPHAEL!” Tav’s mind flies apart as she screams her release, back bowed, thighs clenched tight around the Archduke’s ears.

She comes back into her body to the feeling of her fingers being disentangled from their iron grip on his hair. She releases him immediately, flexing her digits and collapsing against the bed as a wave of exhaustion slides over her.

“You,” she pants breathlessly, boneless and still buzzing for the high of her orgasm. “That was–

“Delicious,” he finishes for her with a sinful smile that does nothing to soothe the thunderous beating of her heart.

This time it is the devil who stretches himself over her body, skin against sweaty skin, and presses the taste of her arousal and his spend between their lips in a filthy kiss. When he pulls away Tav’s dazed expression pulls another smile to his face, this one different from the one he usually shows her. Her stomach clenches but in the next moment her face is split in a jaw cracking yawn and when she looks again he looks the same as he always does.

“Sleep, my dear,” he says in a tone that conveys he neither cares if she does or does not. With a snap of his finger he is dressed and polished once more. He drags his eyes down the length of her naked body with an appreciative leer. Another snap and he's gone in a flash of hellfire.

Tav forces her body to move though her limbs feel made of jelly. She crawls between the sheets, the luxurious material cold against her heated skin. Sweat on her scalp and elsewhere on her body sends a shiver down her spine. Cocooned, safe, and spent, she sleeps.

That's All Folks!

[pursuitseternal]

𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓼: 𝓖𝓵𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓷𝔂

Raphael x F!Reader x Haarlep |E| 2.1K

Summary: You fell for it, a taste of the Incubus’ blood. And now you hunger once point of insanity, chasing after the one thing for you to glut yourself on… and it smells good.

CW: Cum hunger, pussy spanking, Breeding no babies, sex pollen/incubus blood/fuck or die vibes, ABO vibes, scent kink, heat/forced heat, threesome, polycule, spit roast, mating press, throat fuck, facial

Prev ch |ao3 link| Raphael Masterlist

Full PursuitsEternal Masterlist

Mistake… huge… egregious sin. And now, your body is not your own. Your mouth drools, endless amounts of spit leak from your lips even as you try to swallow.

You shouldn’t have listened to that incubus. What were you thinking? His spit is meant to make you aroused and willing… So why are you shocked that when Haarlep dared you, pestered you… goaded you into a sample of their blood from a fresh cut mark on their finger….

It had been tingly and sweet and spicy and hot all in one drip.

Your body burns hotter than the walls of the House, and a pit forms in your stomach. A hunger unlike anything you had ever known. That’s why you stand now in the feasting hall, your hands grabbing for the constant supply of food on its tables. Buns… cheese… meats… you take bites of all of them, finding them like ash on your tongue.

You spit them each out, one after another. Clearly not what you crave.

Hand shaking, belly growling, you are starving for more. For something… you don’t know what. But maybe, your body does as it hums with infernal hunger. You let your feet pull you towards the boudoir. Your nose fills with his scent, your master. Closing your eyes, his scent pulls you to where he sits on the balcony, the winds of Avernus sweeping his hair to one side. Unphased by the heat, he sits, one knee over the other, a book in his hand. Undoubtedly researching something for his next client or current one…

But you barely open your eyes as you approach. You drop to your knees, sniffing like an animal, drool on your chin, as one shaking hand pulls his legs down and apart.

“Sweetling…” he croons, questioning and warning all in one moniker for you. But his voice barely registers through your need to eat…. Your nostrils flare harder and harder as you bury your face into his groin, hands on the hard planes of his hips.

“Mmmm,” you hum, your stomach rumbling audibly. Drool leaks from your mouth as you open it to kiss the lines of his flaccid cock. Spit dampens the expensive fabric of his pants, your tongue licking a long stripe up his now hardening length. Then it hits you—the first drip of precum that gathers in his piss slit.

That’s what you need. What you crave with reckless abandon.

“Master…” you moan before your mouth latches to his clothed cockhead to suck that tiny pearl of cum through the fabric.

“My eager little mouse, what has gotten into you today. You look positively possessed… If I didn’t know better…”

He trails off, hand flying through the air to grip your hair and yank your open mouth to his nose. He gives it a single long inhale. “My my, you’ve managed to let Haarlep give you a sample of their blood…” he trails his words off into a chuckle. “Did they dare you to do it, I wonder?”

You nod, whining to return your face back where his scent is strongest. So close and yet out of reach as your body burns for him to fuck you, feed you his cock, come inside you until your belly swells. You don’t care….

Raphael can almost read the details of your thoughts as those brown eyes stare into your sweating face. His lips turn in a predacious grin. “You reek, my little whore of a mouse. You just couldn’t resist, and now your pathetic mortal body is in heat for the one thing it craves.” Another rolling chuckle punctuates his degradation as he stands. Fist in your hair, he pulls you to his bed.

His hold on you keeps you tight beside him like a leash. That’s what it feels like… “Such a good pup… keeping at her master’s side, whining…like a bitch in heat,” he just rumbles his laughter louder as he snaps his fingers to magic your clothing away.

Not that it mattered. Your arousal, so plentiful, seeps down your thighs, and you hiss the moment your searing flesh meets the air. Even the hot breezes of the hells feel cool on your body compared to how you are burning alive.

“Haarlep!” he bellows into the House, summoning the Incubus the old fashioned way, his deep voice grating in his silken voice box as he shouts even louder a second time.

The Incubus comes, saunters more like, their red fleshed Cambion form smirking as they draw closer. “Oh… has the master spoiled our little game?” they laugh, crueler than Raphael’s chuckle. “Can’t say I’m surprised… it’s not like me to plan something that might be so fun for us all.” They flash their yellow and black eyes to the Master. “Not like me at all…”

Raphael growls. “You’ve overstepped here, Haarlep,” he warns, setting your body on the bed face down.

Even the silken sheet beneath you feels cool, a moment of respite until your flesh warms it up. Then you let out a sad, pathetic whimper. “Please, master,” you lift your head to see them both staring down at you. One warm skinned mortal face, furrowed in careful consideration, and one mirror image in Cambion form, their shit-eating grin only widening as your gaze drops to their waists… their hips… their cocks.

You lick your lips. “Please,” voice cracking, you make yourself continue. “I can’t bear it…”

“And you won’t have to, my sweetling,” Raphael smiles, a slightly wicked twist to his already smirking lips. “The Incubus will lend me a hand in fixing your problem.”

“Lend you a cock more likely,” Haarlep laughs. “My blood sure does work a number on you pathetic mortals. It’s so much fun to see… and even more fun to cure.”

“Haarlep!” the Master snaps, “lay her on her back and be nice about it.”

A breathy laugh sounds over you; hot, leathery, clawed hands gently grab your shoulder and roll you on your back. You groan, the feeling of touch on your flesh directly is enough to make your walls flutter and your cunt clench enough to let a little gush of arousal leak. Eyes flutter shut. Your mouth fills with spit as your stomach groans, both ends of your body needing to be filled.

Instantly.

The slightest touch of smooth fingers over the curls of your mound, and your thighs fall apart. You buck your hips, lifting them to slam them on the bed, earning you another laugh from his throat… and a firm hand between your thighs… to slap your pussy. The wet collision bounces off the stone walls.

You scream at the wave of pleasure-pain that tears through you. He winds up, giving your drenched and swollen lips another slap firmly over your folds.

“Such a naughty mouse,” he croons, gently soothing your pussy lips and slipping two fingers into your drenched folds. “You gullible slut, falling for the oldest trick in the proverbial book.”

His chastisement falls on your deaf ears. All you hear is your own rushing blood, your hissing breath and the wet, slick squelches his fingers make inside you cunt as he starts to finger fuck you in earnest. He pulls desperate broken sighs from your lips, your eyes close as you just chase the promise of relief at the literal tips of his fingers.

Your noises grow more and more wanton… until you feel the red hot bulge of a cockhead on your lips.

“Please, Master, she’s so fucking loud,” Haarlap grumbles, that whine in their voice nagging. “Let me help make up for my happy mistake.”

Raphael just grunts his consent, maybe he nods or waves his other hand, but you’re too lost to open your eyes. All you know next is the push of that thick, ridge cock into your panting mouth and desperately slick throat. Those ridges catch on your teeth as they slide in and pull out, your mouth filling with extra slickness from your throat.

“You’d better fuck her soon, Master,” Haarlep prods, joking as they thrust a little faster and deeper. “At this rate she’ll pass out before tasting either of us. And if that happens…” they laugh and growl at once, “who knows if she will survive her heat…”

Your eyes roll back, body bucking, mouth screaming as you feel his fingers disappear from your aching cunt.

Then you scream in relief around that heated Cambion cock down your throat as Raphael fills you. A single stroke inside and he’s fully seated. A single groan from his chest, and he’s fucking you with abandon. Your body shivers, pushed and pulled like a carnival squeezebox. Their thrusts sometimes slam into you at once. Other times they alternate. And you, their glorious instrument of pleasure.

All sense of time is lost in the pounding of both ends, the only thing that grounds your body once more is the way your throat-slimed mouth suddenly fills with cum… hot and almost spicy, those ridges dragging in your mouth as Haarlep shoves that cock deeper still. “Swallow pet,” they groan, “it’ll ease the pain… or will it?”

A growl from Raphael between your thighs, and they change their tune. But only after a petulant huff. “Swallow it and you’ll feel better… you’ll glut yourself on us tonight, and then you’ll feel better… and then you’ll learn not to drink my blood unless you want this same heat in your blood and ache in your cunt.”

“Haarlep! That’s enough playing with my food,” Raphael hisses at him, his voice scratching, those velvet tones husky and rough as he stills his fucking inside you.

Keening, you reach for Raphael’s skin, grabbing haphazardly for more of his body. That fire in your blood is barely muted by the cum in your belly, and you lick your lips for more. “Master… please, I beg… fuck me… fill me,” you whine, desperate and pathetic.

Raphael’s body crushes yours, hands bending your legs to buckle against your chest, all while he shoves the Incubus out of reach. “Stand there and watch, Haarlep, touch yourself if you wish, but you’ve been far too naughty to come again before I do.”

The devil’s mouth crushes your own, his tongue sliding inside to lick you clean of the Incubus’s seed. “Good mouse, loyal mouse… stupid mouse for falling for their tricks,” he praises and degrades you in one velvet toned breath. “Master will help you, feed your mouth and nether lips with the nourishment you require…”

Arms wrap around your shoulders, his searing breath in your left ear as he mounts you. His rhythm is fast and deep and persistent. Thrust after thrust he knocks against your cervix, pulling and pushing in your swollen channel.

But you cry for more… your mouth spills a series of pleas, needy and pitiful and submissively sweet as he fucks into your hungry belly and aching cunt.

Rutting, he claims you with his cock… with a snarl he bites into your shoulder, and he maims you with his teeth. Your body is pure flame, hellfire itself. Your hips rock with what little space he gives you, riding his thrusts. Your cunt soaks up every drop of precum that leaks, you can feel that pearly fluid soaking into the heat of your body.

Faster and rough, he grunts and plunges your depths. More leaking cum… more to cool your heat. Until… he stutters, hips slamming your ass and thighs as his breath hitches.

It shoots into you, flooding your womb, his cum painting your insides and sating your hunger. Each spurt cools that inferno, but only barely.

You pant, screaming as you come in time with his release. Pulsing as if swallowing themselves, your walls milk him, sucking his cum deep to your gut. He stills a moment, licking the blood from his bite off his lips. His cherry-red, bloody smile takes up your whole field of vision.

Then he sticks his thumb in your mouth, jarring it open. “Here, Haarlep, since you’ve been so diligent in taking care of yourself, you can at least let that load be useful,” Raphael growls, his words breaking into a deep and delighted laugh.

Hot, sticky cum covers your chin, most of it landing in your mouth that he keeps pried open. Your tongue laps at it, gathering it from your open lips, your face, even the Master’s thumb that controls you.

He lets go of your face, lips crushing yours as he kisses you, cum over everything it feels. Your mind thrums less than before… your hands wander over his smooth, bared back, your chest tickled by the patches of soft curls that decorate Raphael’s chest….

And yet, your stomach still growls. Hungry for more.

📸 were found on Pinterest. Dm if credit needed.

[ghostchems]

bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav (part two)

raphael lays some ground rules for your deal and extends an invitation.

author's note: read part one here. 2.3k words. 18+, mdni please. some bickering, some groping. thigh riding. ya know, the usual. ao3 link.

“What are you writing?” 

Raphael’s quill runs off the page, a thick line of black ink staining his desk. His nostrils flare and he quickly claps his journal shut, eyeing the incubus with sheer annoyance. He clenched his jaw before giving a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he tries to let the frustration roll off of him. The last thing he wants to do is give Haarlep any ammunition. 

“My recent business dealings.” Raphael answers curtly and in one fluid motion slips his journal off his desk into a drawer. His eyes flit up Haarlep’s body before settling at his eyes and scrunches his nose. “And where have you been?” He sets down his quill and leans back in his desk chair. 

“You know I like to get some air every so often.” Haarlep yawns as he slinks onto the nearby bed, laying down on his stomach with his head propped up in his hands. “Writing smut again, are we? I can smell a certain aroma from you.” His mouth curls into a sly smile, his pointed teeth poking out from his upper lip. Raphael’s gaze falls to the incubus, eyes narrowing as his lips purse. It’s difficult for him to get frustrated with Haarlep at this point — he’s grown used to his teasing after having him in his “employment” for so long but still this situation is delicate.

“Are you jealous, dear Haarlep?” Raphael’s voice drops to a low purr. He gets up from his padded armchair and saunters over to the bed only to sit beside the other. Haarlep rolls over so that he can face him, claws immediately starting to drift up along his doublet sleeve. 

“Not jealous.” The incubus huffs, his touch drawing closer to Raphael’s stomach. “It has been quite some time since a mortal got your loins in a twist, though. Seems more receptive than your other pet.” He flashes a brilliant smile while Raphael digs his nails into the palms of his own hands, giving a vicious growl — a warning. Haarlep merely scoffs in response but he does lower his head, gaze beginning to drift around the room. “If you’re going to have her over you should probably have one of your debtors clean up the place.”

“Bringing her here is not a part of my plan currently. Are you requesting something of me?” Raphael peers down at the other as he cocks a brow. Haarlep shrugs and stays quiet for a moment before giving a huff.

“I want to see what all this fuss is about.” 

Raphael considers him, his mind quickly running through a few scenarios. Why should he share? But there it is, an opportunity underneath all the show: a deal to be made.

“Perhaps I could make some changes, but what would be in it for me?”

***

You feel a violent hand over your mouth and your eyes shoot open as a gasp rips from your throat. Once your vision settles, you’re met with those caramel eyes leering over you, Raphael’s teeth-bared and gaze sharp.

“Outside. Now.” There is venom in his voice unlike that you’ve heard from him before. He disappears in a spark of ash before you’re able to say anything — and then you realize he’s cast silence on you anyway. You feel an angry growl rumble through your chest but it’s swallowed up by the time it reaches your lips, in some ways a blessing since you don’t want to wake your companions. As you get out of bed, Astarion stirs in the one in front of you, making soft snores and every so often small whimpers? Do vampires have dreams? Your mind wanders as you put on your evening robe to fight the chill of the air. One last scan over your companions and you’re out the door, heading downstairs of the tavern and out to the alleyway.

Raphael is waiting for you, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. You hate that the first thing you think of is how radiant he looks in the pale moonlight. The dim light makes his brown eyes sparkle and the gold details on his doublet shine. Memories of the deal you made and what happened after flood your mind, replacing your annoyance with a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. You open your mouth but only air tumbles out, making you clench your fists in frustration.

“No, no. You don’t get to speak yet, little mouse.” He stalks closer to you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Rumors have made their way back to me that a certain hero has been fraternizing with an infernal being.” Raphael grits his teeth as he leans in, his eyes boring into yours. “You couldn’t wait to tell your little companions, could you?” There is anger in his voice but underneath it you swear there is a hint of teasing. He awaits your response but then gives a dramatic ah! before snapping his fingers. 

“I didn’t tell them about our deal.” You’re finally able to snap back but your voice is hoarse from the silence. “Astarion noticed! He could smell you on me. Called me a freak — but not in a disgusted way, more like… he was impressed.” Too much information but the words spill out of you. Raphael’s face remains unchanged, his lips pressed into a straight line and his brows furrowed. “He’s bad at keeping secrets… but I wasn’t sure if you would care since you left me alone at Sharess’ Caress.” 

He exhales slowly through his nose and his face seems to relax, his jaw shifting back into place and his eyes softening. One of his hands reaches for yours, which is balled into a fist at your side. His fingers graze your fist, lightly trying to loosen it before he takes your hand. Raphael’s eyes stay fixed on you, his lips starting to quirk into a barely there smile. You try to keep a straight face but his warm fingers laced with your own makes an infuriating blush rise to your cheeks.

“Did I hurt your feelings, pet?” His voice drops dangerously low as he brings the back of your hand to his lips. You roll your eyes, amazed by his nerve. Did he think he could bat his lashes and you’d be wrapped around his finger? “Mmm… forgive me, for that. Please. It’s been an eternity since someone has affected me this way.” He murmurs, averting your gaze as you swear you see a flash of embarrassment cross his face. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden candor, having only seen it once before in him. 

“You shouldn’t have left.” You remain firm but your voice is a hum, your eyes tracing over his features. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought I would have gotten special treatment.” You wriggle your hand free from his grasp as you give him a sly grin, not about to let him off the hook that easily. Raphael’shead tilts as he regards you silently for a moment, as if your playfulness caught him off guard. His lips tug into a smile and you catch his gaze fall to your mouth, then back up to meet your eyes.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. As you know, I tend to keep my word.” He all but purrs, drifting in even closer to you. 

“Well, I’d like to get it in writing.” 

“You what?” Raphael’s charming facade immediately drops, scrunching his nose. You are delighted with the way he glared at you. “Let us discuss this later — we have more pressing matters. Your companions, I am certain they aren’t very supportive of you mingling with a devil such as myself.” He presses his hand to his chest, those caramel eyes sucking you in like they always do. 

“I wouldn’t say that they are thrilled about it.” You sigh and break your eye contact. “But it doesn’t seem like a reason for them to leave, at least for now… if this is something that will continue.” He uses one of his long fingers to gently turn your head back to his gaze. 

“I would rather that they didn’t know about us, sweetling.” Raphael sounds almost sweet as he seemingly takes in every detail of your face, his hand now cupping your cheek. “Them and the entirety of the Sword Coast, at least until the Elder Brain is defeated. We don’t want the general public to think our savior is taking orders from a devil, do we?” It’s something you haven’t thought about until now. You were never one to care for optics but he isn’t wrong. “I have an idea that will put your companion’s minds at ease and take some of the heat off of us.” 

You’re hardly paying attention to what he’s saying because of how close he is. You could easily kiss him right now. What would he do? You decide to find out. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you quickly push yourself onto your tippy toes to kiss him, nearly cutting him off. Raphael’s body freezes in surprise before his hand moves from your cheek to tangle with your hair, his tongue desperately pushing into your mouth. It’s like a switch went off in his brain. He’s grabbing you, tugging at your waist so your bodies are flush against each other.

You nearly fall into him as he takes a few steps back, your hands slipping to hold onto his shoulders. Tasting him again was almost just as overwhelming as the first time, the heat of his mouth making me crave him more and more, deepening the kiss. Raphael moves quickly, both his hands suddenly gripping your thighs to pull you down with him into a chair you’re sure didn’t exist a moment ago. He has you straddling his waist, strong hands making sure you stay in place. You finally manage to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, hazy eyes meeting his gaze.

“Go to the Devil’s Fee when you’re ready — my contact will grant you entrance to my House of Hope.” Raphael’s nose traces along your jaw, his lips brushing along your neck as he speaks. He teases at your neck with his teeth, inching lower and lower, while drifting his hands along your robe to grope your breast through the light fabric. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you eliminate the remaining space between you, melting into his touch. Raphael sucks on your collarbone as he opens your robe even further, fingers toying with your nipples through your shirt before pulling it down and exposing your breasts. You’re dizzy from it all, lost in him and his expert touches and that velvet voice, lips parting to give a soft whine. 

“The hammer will be in a safe in my boudoir — an easy heist for you and your companions.” His voice is ragged, breath heavy as his mouth moves down your chest to run his tongue along your sensitive flesh. Raphael dips his hands to cup your ass and guides you along his thigh. Even through the layers of fabric the friction is delicious, making your legs tremble more and more with each drag over his thigh. You forget that you’re outside where anyone could stumble by, moaning recklessly as his lips close around one of your nipples. He flicks his tongue against it, teeth nipping it only just enough to hurt before giving it a few rough sucks. 

Your fingers move to dig into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting your head back while his mouth works over your breasts with feverish need. A growl rumbles up from his chest, feeling it against yours as you start to grind against him without his help. It all feels so reckless. Raphael’s composure is completely gone, groaning against your chest as his tongue teasing your other nipple. Your eyes fall shut and you snap your hips harshly into his thigh, chasing your release. 

And as easily as he gave into you, he takes it all away.

Raphael grabs you by the chin and wrenches you down to look at him in the eyes. You’re shuddering in his grasp as his caramel gaze sharpens, fire in his eyes. The sudden shift in mood has your mind turned upside down and your body aching to be touched by him again. 

“This part is extremely important, pet, so listen closely.” He snarls, digging his nails into your cheeks. “Do not assist Hope while you are a guest. Is that understood?” Raphael yanks you so that his lips are hovering directly over yours. You quiver at his closeness and you nod before even trying to understand what he is asking of you. All you know is that you want him now. There’s a spark in his eyes once you agree and he lets go of you gently, his hands dropping to cover you up before, leaning back in the chair with a smug look on his face. “Go on — take what you need.” 

You snap your hips immediately, flinging your hands to grab for his shoulders again. Raphael can’t stop watching your face, the way your expression twists in pleasure with each thrust, the soft groans spilling from swollen lips, basking in how much you crave him. You stare into his eyes as you do as he says, taking what you need from him until it’s all too much. You give a choked sob, hip stuttering and fingers digging into his doublet as your orgasm rips through you. His arms swallow you in his embrace, pulling you tight against his chest to help guide you back down to Earth. 

“I’ll amend your contract to reflect the changes discussed this evening.” Raphael purrs into your hair, lightly brushing his fingertips along your back. “I also have something for you – perfume that should mask my scent even from those with heightened senses of smell.” You lift your head up. A present? For you? Strangely sweet for a devil, even if it was to help with sneaking around. 

“You’ll also add your promise to the amendment, right?” You ask sweetly, the picture of innocence. He dramatically rolls his eyes.

“If you insist.”

part three

[seraphimaa]

Doll for a day

Soft(ish) Raphael x fem!Reader/Tav

Slight Haarlep x Fem!reader/Tav

Raphael comes home unexpectedly while a certain somebody is playing with his toys. Tav thinks that playing dead is preferable to facing his wrath. Maybe, in hindsight, it was not her brightest idea.

PART 2 IS UP

Warnings: kind of of dubcon, confessions under false pretences, feelings (boo!😈)

“Haarlep.”

That stern, musical voice cuts like a knife through the washing pleasure she had been so lost in. Ice jolts down her spine and suddenly it feels like someone has turned on the lights. The body over her freezes much the same, buried to the hilt as she clenches down on him, muscles going taut.

She sees the spark of surprise and fear mould the face hanging over her. She guesses that though she worries for her general well-being and survival in the upcoming moments, Haarlep was no doubt reeling at the thought of being put on the naughty step. Nobody ever let him have any fun in this house. The little mouse had been so easy to catch. So desperate to see the eyes he wore look at her the ways that he had. ‘The master is away. He’ll be gone for so long. Aren’t you lonely, little mouse? He’s lonely too and he’s wanted you for so long. Please give yourself to him.’ He’d promised that it would be their little secret and she’d all but melted before him, climbing across the satin, trembling.

“What little pest has managed to crawl out of my walls and find its way into my boudoir?”

Haarlep had promised that he’d let her go long before Raphael was due to return. “don’t worry” he’d said, “give me your trust. You’re perfectly safe with me.” Gods, she was going to haunt him. What a little shit. She did know, however, that he is clearly as caught off guard as she is.

The sounds of Raphael’s polished shoes clack across the tiles near the entrance.

The timbre changes as he reaches the oak flooring and she feels like she could faint, like her mind is floating above her and watching the scene from some detached place. A sigh.

“My fine cormyrean sheets, Haarlep!” He sounds appalled. “Do you know how much they cost, you animal?”

The little demon spawn stays in place, back facing him but tail flicking in obvious unease.

“Thousands. I won’t bore you with exact figures, harlot, as you’ve never been particularly apt in finances…or general intellectual engagement. So, let me ask you again, what little pest have you caught and defiled now? Gods they’re absolutely saturated. You’ve torn them too!”

She could feel her breathing quicken as his rage seems to rapidly increase.

“Hup, hup, Haarlep. Go sulk in the corner. I’m sure you’ll just drown in remorse while I clean up this mess. I’ve had a busy day, you know, and now I have to throw away your leftovers and order new sheets, too. Can a man not relax in his own forsaken house? Is it too much to ask for?”

The is tap, tap, tapping his foot on the ground is motivated, no doubt, by the unavoidable headache that he’d be forced to soothe with a glass of vintage later.

Haarlep begins to lean backwards, his eyes glued to hers. He was curious, excited to see what she was going to do but she could see that he was also silently pleading with her to act very carefully, for both of their sakes. She feels herself flush in humiliation as she loses the physical and psychological shield of Haarlep between them and as much as she desperately wants to curl into a ball and hide, her limbs remain frozen in place, her body completely detached from her thought and command. This was more than she could handle.

The incubus detaches from her and the air catches in her throat as he pulls out completely from her clenching hole, swollen lips left empty and drooling. Another breath catches in the air, but it’s not her own. She wishes she could sink into the sheets and disappear. Part of her is half tempted to just roll off of the bed then under the frame, never to come out again. Nevertheless, she still does not move. Her eyes glue themselves to a small crack in the ceiling above her and her face is slack in shock. Her hair is wild and splayed around her, her legs spread from accommodating their recent guest, her dumb and vacant face flushed a scandalous shade of crimson.

From her peripheral, Haarlep tries to scamper off, tail between his legs, but he’s stopped by his master raising one hand at him, eyes still glued to the little mouse on his bed.

His other hand snatches towards her, latching to her chin and he glowers down his nose at her in his own shock. She refuses to shift her gaze, focussing hard in every detail of the splintered paint above. He jerks her head left and her vision spins then fills with the detailed threading on the edges of his doublet and the hatched material of his trouser legs. He jerks to the right and her visions swims again, filling with stained glass and hazy walls as her other cheek meets the bed. He stands over her like this for some time and she is thankful to be facing the opposite wall as her eyes well in fear. She’s unsure what he plans to do as he continues to ponder her, simmering.

“Haarlep.” She can hear the effort behind the barely collected tone.

“Please, tell me that I’m mistaken. Please, tell me that you didn’t actually suck the soul right out of my most valuable investment. Please,” his voice cracks slightly, “tell me you didn’t just ruin everything everything I had worked so hard for.”

“Master-“

Before the incubus can interject again, Raphael’s claws seize him and suddenly he’s careening. He’s marched blindly backwards under the cambion’s grip, as the rant continues.

“You had one job, not to get meddle. Not to ruin this one thing. I swear I shall send you back into the rotten abyss you crawled out of.”

Haarlep’s legs meet the balcony ledge and he stumbles and plummets over the edge with a yelp. Raphael does not wait to watch his descent and turns back into the room. Stopping again at the edge of the bed.

He stills and heaves a deep sigh, fingers coming to pinch at his brow. He looks again at the mindless doll, all to familiar I shape, on the bed. Her potential was supposed to be so much greater than this. She was the one who would bring him his crown. She could have been his chosen, but there was nothing left. Nothing but her prone form still draped open in mocking invite. He tries to ignore the ache. Tries not to imagine that the invite was for him, that she would have lay so sweet for his craven self.

She knows she should say, do, anything. She screams inside to just start apologising and take the consequences, because there is no avoiding the inevitable but after watching the fate of the incubus, she feels her voice disappear back down her throat and her limbs cement themselves to the silk below. He thinks her to be but a lifeless husk and that was about the only role she felt capable of playing in this moment. He approaches her again and she feels another wave of adrenaline wash over her as he stares down at her, this time his face seems almost defeated. Glum. His eyes search over her. He looks into her eyes. They’re glassy and fixed. They look scared. He doesn’t know what it is that washes over him at the image of her terrified and trapped under the copy of his form as her soul is leeched from her, but he knows that he doesn’t like it. Her cheeks remain rosy, a lurking evidence of her undoing. Her lips are parted in a little gasp. What noises had left them in this very room? Her face looked shocked and horrified, tinged with shame and the remnants of her recent euphoria. Her death mask. From her lips left quick puffs of air but the life that remained in her shell held no more value. His little mouse wasn’t in there anymore. Not in any way that mattered, or so he believes.

With another dramatic sigh, he sags to sit on the edge of the bed, back facing to her. He leans his arms into his knees and considers how to salvage this wagon crash. He could not afford to wallow in childish fantasies and feelings. They never did him any good. She had disappointed him, immensely. He knows not of why she’d come skittering to his house but she’d found her end here none the less. His house was not built to cater to her meek nature. It was done now. He can not stop thinking, however, about what had led her to sneak behind his back and play with his toys. He couldn’t stop that nagging voice in his head reminding him that regardless of her reason to poke around, she’d been distracted by the fiend wearing his visage. She’d been lured in by the promise of laying under him. She was so willing to give herself, and she’d done so with such reckless abandon that she’d let a lowly fool like Haarlep steal her soul. She’d come into his sanctuary and used him without permission. Was she really so desperate? Did she share his hunger?

A wicked thought crosses his mind. He would dispose of her, as was the right thing to do, for it brought him no honour to keep her this way. It was sacrilege. She was, however, right here. She was gone by all means, but her body was still warm and willing. There was nothing to stop him using the carcass of her form as she had used his. It was harmless. Nobody would ever even have to know. She’d be his little secret and then he’d finally rid himself of her once and for all. Rid himself of the hold she had on him.

The screaming in her head falls silent in horror as she feels the bed dip and weight of him straddle her hips. He kneels over her, eyes flicking around, trying not to meet hers. He feels like she is watching him from inside herself. It is almost like she is still there and it makes him feel an uncomfortable twinge of vulnerability.

He brings one claw up to her mouth, pressing it over the curve of her lips and lets it push past, pressing against the ridges of her teeth. He pulls her mouth open, slackening her jaw down as far as he could until it resists, then eases his clawed finger back inside. The tip of certain scratches along the walls of her mouth, over her tongue, and her eyes bulge as it dips down and slips into her throat. She knows that she should stop it right bloody now before it goes even further but a coward she certainly is and she can’t even perceive facing his wrath right now. Her mind continues to feel locked behind the safeguarding of shock and fear, not able to pilot her body to do anything helpful. Her hands twitch at her sides but it escapes his rapt attention in testing her mouth. His face twitches slightly as her throat contacts slightly around his appendage and she realises he is palming himself, his knuckles occasionally bumping her stomach as he works his freed cock.

He plays around with her like this until his fingers come back soaked and stringing with her saliva as it pools - there’s a lump in her throat and she can’t seem swallow.

He clambers up the bed, hanging over her to grasp the headboard, and the intricate detailing of his doubled fills her vision again. She sees him staring down at her from above her point of focus. She tries think about anything other than his face. She swears she must be dreaming, losing her grip on sanity, as her she feels something heavy and hot press it’s weight onto her tongue. He presses the crimson, tapered tip of his cock into her mouth, feeling the wet cavern widen even further to allow him to slide inside. He hears her breathing change as she sucks air through her nostrils and he hears her heart thrum rapid like a rabbits. He supposed there had to be a little life left in someone with such a fate to make them enjoyable, and enjoy you he will. He releases his breath in audible groan as your sloppy, drooling mouth encases him.

Moving his hands to either side of her face, he cradled her skull and began to pump his hips, the muscles of his thighs jerking and jumping with each jolt of pleasure. He lets her gurgle around him at his lazy pace. He is in no rush. He at least deserved some kind of consolation, did he not? Tears crave tracks down her cheeks as he continuously plugs her throat, his cock pulsing in warning.

All at once he is gone from her and she next feels her awareness creep back to her as his hands take hold of her, behind her knees, and her legs are pushed towards her shoulders to expose her fully to his gaze. She hears his ragged breathing as he takes her in. The bud of pink blooming between the soft fat rolls of her labia. He uses his thumbs to part the puffy lips and his cock jumps in anticipation. He drinks her in. A flush, swollen nub perched between a tiny, fluttering pink hole. She is still leaking from her previous partner. The sloppy puddle below her still blooms a dark hue on his sheets. He knows if he doesn’t take her now, he’ll talk himself out of it.

With one thrust, he asserts control of his racing thoughts and sinks to the hilt inside of her, feeling his cock bump and press up against the resistance of her womb. Any thoughts plaguing him are gone as his mind draws blank from the blinding pleasure. The numbing release of finally laying claim to her. He hears her hiccup a wail that fades into a mindless keen and her hands ball into the sheets. She feels like her soul really did just leave her body.

He almost finds himself thanking the gods in that moment, hearing the sweet noises she made. At least her body could still give him that. At least she, like Haarlep, could tell him oleander lies while he buries himself inside of her.

He chokes a moan, sucking in breath and releases it in a hissed growl as he draws his hips back, feeling every twitch of her cunt as he slides against the grip of slick walls. He drives forward again, forcing them both further up the bed. A hand at her leg yanks her back down before she can catch her bearings and he pulls her into him , connecting them again as deeply as he can get. She feels like she’s falling - dying maybe. The conscience and guilt that told her to do good and smart things were long gone, lost some time after he’d speared into her with reckless abandon. Any sense was gone. A new voice was seeping through the hormonal concoction she was swimming in. It told her that this was all that mattered. In this moment she was his and it felt better than she’d ever dreamed, when alone at night with her imagination. She can’t stop the rhythmic song of pleasure he pulls from her, the room full with her whines and cries joining his.

Haarlep, for as devastatingly good as he’d been, could not match the ferocity and intensity that fuelled the fiend above her now. His face was twisted in a snarl, his own mouth hanging slack and his eyes locked to the sight of himself splitting her apart. His moans and gasps begin to lower as his hips stutter in their pace. He buries his face into her neck, hips continuing to rock. He inhales deeply, drinking in her scent.

“You silly mouse.” His voice is strained. He sounds close. Underneath it though, she recognises that somber tone.

“I was so close to having you. You were supposed to be mine. I could have given you the world. I would have given you everything.”

He groans as his hips jerk again, his cock pressing something deep inside. It’s all to much and the bubble finally popped. She shudders under him with a wail as white heat floods her senses. He loses it at her sound and the clenching of her strangling at his length. He collapses onto his forearms at either side of her, letting her quivering pussy milk his seed from him.

“I can find another champion, but you, you had been special. I wanted it to be your hands that passed me the crown. I wanted it to be you I shared it all with.” He stays buried inside of as he softens. His voice is a whisper, as if telling a great secret to the empty room. His hand is petting through her hair absently.

She doesn’t know how long he remains, body pressed to hers. The adrenaline is wearing off and she feels like her spirit is slipping back into her aching, exhausted form. She wasn’t prepared to face any of it. She didn’t think she ever would be. How could she even begin to process current events. How the hells would she explain any of this to anyone, least of all him? The concoction of shame and humiliation began to take hold of her again and she starts to plan, fast. He would never forgive her for this. He’d hate her. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she stopped it? She knew the real answer. She hadn’t wanted it to stop, really. She’d take being bounced on his cock over the eternity of suffering he was bound to expose her to as soon as the curtain came up. She just wanted to stay like this forever. Maybe time would stand still, or maybe, she’d simply die from a random heart attack from all of this absurdity and stress. Yes, she decided all at once, she’ll just stay here like this. forever. She finds momentary comfort in her delusions, painting herself a happy future where she never faces the music and gets to stay under him like this, hearing his sweet words and bringing him pleasure for the rest of time. She would be his new toy. He’d treat her so well. It would all be so very nice.

The image is ripped from her as a voice she recognises all to well chimes from near the pool.

“Fear not, master. I have returned unharmed. I wish you’d stop doing that all the time, you know I have wings-“ his voice cuts to an scandalised gasp. “Oh my, and back just in time to play, too!” She can feel Raphael’s tail swish in agitation, but he doesn’t have the energy left to channel his rage. “What an interesting turn of events, I must say! I did so hope that you both would work it out peacefully.” The cambion above her hisses as the bed dips with Haarlep’s weight, he sheepishly prowls the edges of the bed, testing the waters with his grumpy master.

Gods, it’s actually Haarlep! She fills with relief that he’s alive.

“See I knew you’d calm right down once you realised that I didn’t touch your mouse’s precious soul. I played so nicely with her. See, aren’t we all glad it was just a big, innocent misunderstanding?” His tail is wagging happily on the air.

She’s is going to kill him. That little shit. She is going to down him in the pool and throw him back over the balcony rails herself.

“Let me join, master, please! I’ll be so quiet that you won’t even notice me there. Think how good it’ll feel to bury yourself in two of those little holes at the same time!”

She doesn’t dare move, not even brave enough to take a breath as the body above hers stiffens then jerks backwards. Her eyes stay on the ceiling. Stay still. Stay still. Stay still. It’s deafeningly silent.

His voice hisses through the air, threatening and full of disbelief.

“Little mouse?”

Well. Fuck.

I guess you could read this and view the protagonist as morally grey but I raise you, as the ringleader of this circus, that I am also just stupid and the “if I don’t move it can’t see me” tactic is my favourite every uncomfortable social situation, so there’s also that. This was more of a practice. I’m trying to oil ye ol rusty smut skills. I hope I managed to make the characters somewhat recognisable even if it’s kinda goofy.

[bitethedevil]

More Than Our Fathers (Raphael x Demigod!Reader): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six

Read this on AO3

Summary: It was in the years after the Fall of Netheril that fate decided to push the two of you together: the daughter of the God of Divination and the son of the Archdevil of the Eighth. An unlikely pair, but you learned throughout the years that you had more in common than you thought: you were both driven by ambition and you both longed to become more than what your fathers made you.

Word count: 4,968

(Notes: Note that the Reader is named. Her (your) name is Sibylla. I just need to name my characters, I can't even explain it. It literally just means 'Prophetess', if that helps. There is a lot of lore in this one and you can see me explain more in depth on AO3 if you care about it. I'm so excited for this one. For once, I've actually got everything planned instead of my usual 'fuck it we ball' attitude to fics. This chapter is essentially the backstory of their relationship. The majority of the plot will take place from the time of the BG3 canon events. We just have to speed through 1600 years of backstory before that lol)

You were the daughter of a mortal woman and the god Savras. Your father had many titles: Savras the All-Seeing, the Lord of Divination, He of the Third Eye. Once a mortal wizard with an exceptional talent for the art of divination, Savras ascended and became the god of wizards.

You were blessed to have been old enough to remember your father’s greatness and cursed to live long enough to see his fall.

Savras the All-Seeing had been challenged by the powerful mortal wizard, Azuth, and lost. Azuth rose to power as your father fell. It is said that he lost on purpose because he saw something in his visions that was yet to happen. It was a decision that many of his faithful worshippers said demonstrated the wisdom and insight of their god. Wisdom and insight, they called it…You called it docility and wasted potential.

Azuth imprisoned your father in a magical artifact that would later be known as the Scepter of Savras, in the hopes that he could harness Savras’ powers and use them for himself. The scepter disappeared before Azuth’s plan could come to fruition. More than a thousand years after the imprisonment of Savras, the scepter was found and Azuth agreed to release him if he swore a pledge of fealty to him. Savras accepted.

Unfortunately, the scepter displaced itself immediately after Savras’s release, taking with it the majority of his divine powers. Once again, the Scepter of Savras had disappeared and it continues to be lost, constantly moving, with only a chosen of Savras or someone with a touch of the divine being able to wield it. Someone like you.

After his fall, Savras went from being the god of wizards, to the god of divination. He became little more than Mystra and Azuth’s lapdog. A mere shadow of his former glory. You had never been close with your father, but his downfall made him a disappointment to you. After he fell, you felt ashamed to be related to someone as foolish as him. He had wasted his potential.

A potential that you would happily exploit yourself, should you ever get your hands on the Scepter of Savras and claim your father’s old powers…

You were born with an innate gift for divination magic. It made you a sorcerer by technicality, though you would eventually study and become a powerful wizard as well, following in your father’s footsteps. Sorcerers were widely looked down upon by the wizards that made up for most of the population of the city you were born in, though you had been a special case because your father was still the god of wizards at the time.  

Your powers allowed you glimpses into the future. Your visions were quite random, though they became clearer with age, and you had found a way to strengthen them: by physical touch. When touching another person’s skin, you were able to look at the threads of fate and time that bound them: their past, their present, their future. You only needed to know what to look for.

You were born in the kingdom of Halruaa. It was the same place your father had once lived before he ascended and became a god. It was a land of magic in the southern part of Faerûn. The magocracy of Halruaa had once been created by Archwizards who had foreseen the fall of Netheril and fled the empire.

You yourself had been born a few hundred years after Netheril’s Fall, but you vividly remembered the stories of Karsus’s Folly that were told to you by some of the old Netherese refugees. It was because of one of those survivors that your own threads of fate were to be bound to Raphael’s.

It was about 250 years after Karsus’s Folly and some hundred years before your father would fall to Azuth in battle. You were at the very beginning of your immortal life. Your mother had died when you were just a child. A 500-year-old wizard by the name Melesmer had taken you in and he became like a grandfather to you. You looked up to him, listened to his endless reminiscing about Netheril and clung to every piece of wisdom he bestowed upon you.

Melesmer was most likely the last person alive to give first-person accounts of the old empire at that point, but he was also at the end of his time. Old age was starting to eat at him despite the magic that had slowed his aging. When you were only twenty, you had seen him die peacefully in his bed in one of your visions. You knew you only had a year or two left with him, but you did not have the heart to tell him that.

Melesmer spoke Halruaan like you, but the more his old age started to eat at his memory, the more he started rambling to himself in Netherese. Sometimes it seemed as if he had completely forgotten everything around him and found himself back in Netheril. You had learned just enough of the Netherese language to understand what he was saying over and over again:

“They are screaming and crying…” he would mumble in Netherese while his eyes looked empty. “The children. They are under the rubble. Our children…”

You had one day come home from the market and you heard the sounds of talking coming from inside the house. There was nothing odd about that in itself. You were used to young apprentice wizards visiting Melesmer every now and again. They would often be seeking out the old wizard’s wisdom or wanting to listen to the stories he told of the old empire.

What made you stop in your tracks, was the fact that they were speaking in the common tongue. Melesmer never managed to adopt the same skepticism towards foreigners that was commonplace for the born and bred Halruaans who feared that outsiders would come and steal their magical secrets.

You put down what you had in your hands to go and see who this foreigner was that was visiting.

You entered the room and the man in front of Melesmer looked up at you briefly. The man looked young, around twenty like yourself. He had brown hair, brown eyes and was dressed in expensive Halruaan silks, no doubt in an attempt to fit in with the local customs. The young man gave you a brief polite smile before turning his attention back on Melesmer.

There was something odd about the stranger and you felt it immediately. You put your hand on Melesmer’s shoulder, to interrupt his talking and ask him about his guest.

“Grandfather,” You greeted in Halruaan and then nodded to the stranger. “Who is this man that you are talking to?”

“Sibylla, dearest,” Melesmer answered in Halruaan. “This man has travelled far to hear about the fall of Netheril and Netherese magic.”

“Raphael,” Melesmer said in the common tongue, addressing the stranger. “This is my ward, my pride, Sibylla. She is the greatest seer in Halruaa there have been since her father became a god and left the city all those years ago.”

“Grandfather,” You said sternly, warning him not to speak any more of it in front of this stranger.

“Is that so?” Raphael asked. His eyes had lit up by what Melesmer had said, and his smile widened. He got to his feet and walked closer to you.

“I swear it,” Melesmer said, the old man’s voice full of pride and his soft features turned into a bright smile.

“What an honor,” Raphael said and took your hand. “It’s not every day that one meets the daughter of a god.”

Raphael looked you in the eyes and placed a kiss on your hand.

You took the opportunity of the touch to figure out who he was and what he wanted.

When Raphael touched you, a vision flashed behind your eyes, and you saw what he really was. You withdrew your hand from him immediately, as if you had been burned.

“Leave,” you hissed at him. Magic was crackling around your fingertips in warning.

Raphael smirked at your realization.

“Grandfather, this man is a devil. This vermin is taking you for an old fool,” you said to Melesmer while not taking your eyes of Raphael for a second. “He is a son of Mephistopheles himself.”

By his reaction, Raphael seemed to at least know the Halruaan word for ‘devil’, and his smug expression faltered slightly at hearing his father’s name. Melesmer blinked in confusion and looked at Raphael.

“It is quite rude to talk over one’s guests. Especially in another language. My Halruaan is rather unpracticed these days, so I will simply assume that whatever you said was a compliment,” Raphael said smoothly with a tight-lipped smile and narrowed eyes. “I am not here to harm anyone…I am merely seeking information.”

“You’re seeking the Crown of Karsus,” you said to him.

Raphael looked genuinely taken aback for a second, but quickly returned to his smug self.

“I am…” he said.

“Your father has it in his vault where it will stay for at least a thousand years more,” you said coldly. “You’ve got more than what you came for, cambion. Leave.”

He looked at the ground as if in thought for a moment and a flash of fury washed over his face, though you got the sense that his anger was not pointed at you. His fists clenched and his eye twitched slightly before he looked up at you one last time.

That look sent another vision through you, this time manifested through a feeling: familiarity. This would not be the last time you saw him.

“Thank you…” Raphael grumbled and then snapped his fingers. He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers.

You would not see each other again for another couple of hundred years, but ever since that day the devil was keeping an eye on you.

You changed a lot as you grew older. After your father’s fall, you completely discarded his teachings and dogma. You were not supposed to use your sight to further the goals of others or to meddle with fate, and you were also supposed to only ever tell the truth of your visions. You threw it all away and started your new life, cutting the already fragile and barely-there bond to Savras.

You had long since left Halruaa behind. Your services became well sought after and your reputation as a powerful seeress quickly spread throughout Faerûn. Your reputation often proceeded you whenever you arrived in a new city, and you rarely ever had to seek out your clients yourself.

You whispered in the ears of dukes, emperors, and kings, ensuring their rise or their downfall, depending on how you felt about them and how they could further your goals or fill your gold purse. It came with enormous power. A few whispers in the right ears could mean the rise to power for one person, while hiding parts of the truth could make another walk carelessly into their own doom.

Even though you were a savior to some and a villain to others, it never changed how many wanted your help. Your luck was that dead clients usually could not complain about your services and if anyone dared to question how your earlier clients met their demise, you would simply tell them that they did not heed your warnings.

You quickly became well-known and your recognizable features, that spread both awe as well as fear amongst the smallfolk, worked to your advantage. You had the silver hair and ghostly pale eyes of your father.

The widespread myth about you went that your ghostly appearance was caused by you looking into the future and seeing something that terrified you so much that your eyes and hair lost their color. What you had ‘seen’ varied depending on the region you were in, you noticed. Some say you had seen your own death, some the end of the world, while others had a whole third wilder theory. You never had it in you to tell them you were simply born that way.

It pleased you to no longer be known as Sibylla, the daughter of Savras. You were simply Sibylla the Seeress, now. Your own person and removed from your father, who you hoped would be forgotten to time eventually.

It was in the then young city of Athkatla in Amn, that you would run into Raphael again, a few hundred years after your first meeting. Your client in the city was amongst one of the city’s most powerful men. A rich merchant by the name of Bernard Barth.

Barth was an old and greedy man who had grown paranoid in his last days. He was certain that the younger rising star amongst the city tradesmen, Garrick Mordell, was out to steal his place amongst the nobility of the city.

Barth was an excruciatingly frustrating client. He was a loud, opinionated, and stubborn man. His son, who would one day take over his father’s business, was even worse. They were the perfect image of the overindulgent upper class. It was so clear that they had never had to struggle a day in their life, and it irked you, but the Barth family’s generous payment for your services were more than enough to sway you to stay.

You were sitting in Barth’s opulent office, and the two of you were waiting for someone. You had seen who would be joining you in your visions: a middle-aged dark-haired stranger. You did not think much of it before the man entered the room.

You immediately recognized that there was something about him. He dressed like all the other upper-class citizens of Amn, but you could have sworn that he looked familiar. As if you had seen him somewhere else, though you could not quite put your finger on it and no visions sprang to your mind.

“Raphael,” Barth lazily mumbled in greeting. “You’re late.”

“Saer Barth,” the man greeted with a bow and a smile. “My deepest apologies.”

That voice and that name. You had definitely met this man before, but where? You would have to touch him to learn more about him.

You rose from your chair and held out a hand to him.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before,” you said with a smile. “Sibylla.”

“Raphael. A pleasure to meet you,” Raphael said with a smile and shook your hand.

Your brow furrowed slightly when no visions came to your mind at the touch. You looked down and noticed that he was wearing gloves. You kept smiling politely but your eyes narrowed at him. He looked at your expression with a teasing smile, before sitting down and turning his attention to Barth.

You were barely listening to what Barth was rambling about. He wanted Raphael’s help for getting rid of his competitor, though you could not figure out how exactly. All you learned were that Raphael seemed like a man who had good connections. Besides that, it sounded like Barth’s usual paranoid speeches about Lord Mordell’s rise, so you tuned him out.

You were much more interested in who this man was. He seemed so familiar and yet it escaped you who he could be. Your eyes kept drifting to Raphael as you tried to place his face in your mind. At some point he caught you looking. He looked back at you with a knowing smirk, which only made you even more frustrated.

He knew who you were, there was no doubt about it, you thought. Now you had to figure out who he was. If only you could somehow touch him, if only for a brief moment.

“That’s the short of it,” Barth grunted after rambling for about an hour. “We will reconvene tomorrow and see if you can come up with a solution. Leave me.”

Barth waved the both of you away with his usual rude and entitled manner that you had grown so accustomed to. You both left the room, and you walked slightly faster to catch up with Raphael.

“Saer,” you called to him. “A moment of your time, please.”

Raphael turned around and faced you with a smile.

“Yes?”

You got a chance to study his face a bit closer, but it still did not ring any bells. There was just an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” you said. It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Have we?” Raphael asked with a mock innocent expression. “I am quite certain that I would recall if I had met someone like you before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. A look in his eyes told you that he was playing with you.  

“Yes, we have,” you said. “Who are you?”

His smile widened.

You got frustrated and reached out to grab him, trying to pull his gloves off or get your fingers under his coat.

“My! Aren’t you eager?” Raphael laughed and raised his arms so that you could not reach them. “I did notice how you were stealing glances at me in there. I’m afraid I’m not interested, dear.”

You reached out to touch his face instead, but he dodged it.

“We know each other!” you said stubbornly and pointed at his face.

He laughed at your frustration.

“So insistent,” Raphael said and pulled off his glove.

He held his hand out to you, and you took it. A vision passed your mind’s eye. Your eyes widened in recognition. Then your brow furrowed, and you looked him up and down.

“A pleasure to see you again,” he said smoothly.

“You got…old?” you said with a slight sneer. “You looked younger when we last met. I thought your sort didn’t age.”

“I look more matured, not old and we do not. My appearance is by choice,” Raphael explained.

“Why would anyone choose to look old?” you asked. “Eternal youth is one of the few upsides of immortality.”

“I do not look…” Raphael closed his eyes and sighed, before changing the subject. “You are taking all this in stride it seems. I would have expected more hostility from you once you remembered me. Not at all that fiery young girl I remember meeting all those centuries ago, it seems.”

“Things changed,” you said with a shrug. “I’m just trying to make a living. Same as you, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he said with a smile before changing the subject. “I heard about what happened to your dear father. The great All-Seeing robbed of his place in the Heavens and trapped in a stick that no one seems to be able to locate. What a shame.”

“A scepter, not a ‘stick’,” you said. “What’s it to you?”

“I merely wanted to offer my deepest condolences,” Raphael said with a smile that showed the complete opposite meaning of his words. “I do wonder if this is the reason for this little rebellious streak of yours. I hear all sorts of surprising things about you these days, little goddess. Recently, I’ve heard rumors about a certain powerful noble in the city of Illusk whose family met a quite brutal death when a horde of orcs had invaded the city district that he ruled over…”

Your pale eyes narrowed at him. You knew exactly what he was talking about, but he should not be able to know about that.

“So?” you asked with slight shrug and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb, dear,” Raphael purred. “He was a client of yours, was he not?”

“He was,” you said. “And?”

“One has to wonder why you neglected warning him about this. I also find it such an odd coincidence that the High Captain of the city seemed so well-prepared for the assault, though he did not spring to action before after the horde had marched through your client’s district. The High Captain who, coincidentally of course, was also known to be very outspoken about his low opinion of your client.”

“Yes,” you said with another shrug, smiling. “What an odd coincidence.”

“Isn’t it just?” Raphael said with feigned wonder.

You looked him up and down. You had to at least be impressed by the fact that he had managed to do his research so well.

“I told the High Captain, and he offered me a small fortune if I did not warn my client of the assault,” you admitted. “As I said…I’m just trying to make a living…”

Raphael chuckled.

“My dear, you would put some devils to shame,” he said. “I wonder what old Savras would think if he knew what his daughter were up to.”

“Couldn’t care less,” you said coldly and avoided the subject. “Are you spying on me or something?”

“’Spying’ is such a cynical term. I’m keeping an eye on you, yes,” Raphael said. “You seem like a useful person to know. Not to mention, I find you deeply fascinating. Especially now that you are no longer clinging to the boring and rigid dogma of your father.”

It irked you that he kept mentioning Savras. Especially when his own relationship with his father seemed to be at least as messy as your own, from what you saw when you touched him.

“You keep bringing up my father,” you said with annoyance and defensiveness. “Should we talk about yours instead? I saw plenty of interesting things to talk about when I touched you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Raphael said with a hint of annoyance, though still smiling.

“I thought not,” you said with a smile. “What are you doing here? Out for old Barth’s soul?”

“Did your little visions fail to reveal my intentions to you?” Raphael asked.

“What I saw was a mess of contradictions, which suggests that you are undecided on the matter, so no,” you said and looked him up and down. “All I really care about is if you intend to kill my current employer.”

Raphael smiled.

“Would you be opposed to it if I was?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow at that. There might be an opportunity here, you thought.

“In principle, no. Let the old bastard rot in the Hells for my sake,” you answered coldly in a lowered voice in case anyone was eavesdropping. “Though the old bastard in question is still paying me a ridiculous amount of money, so what do you have to offer in return if I let you?”

Raphael’s smile widened.

“Perhaps, you and I are not so different after all,” Raphael said in a lowered voice as well. “You help me procure the soul of both old and young Barth, and I will give you all of the gold that Lord Mordell has offered me in exchange for their demise.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the revelation. Perhaps Barth had not been as overly paranoid as you had thought. Mordell really was out to get him it seemed. Though Raphael must have been instrumental to his plans because you had not seen any threats of Barth’s demise in your visions yet.

“How much gold are we talking?” you asked.

“Fifteen thousand,” Raphael answered casually.

Your jaw almost fell to the floor. That was twice the amount you had managed to squeeze out of Barth during all your time with him. At the time, it was enough gold to buy a house or two.

“And you would just hand that over to me?” you asked in disbelief. “I find that very difficult to believe.”

“I’m a devil, dear. Gold is of little use to me. The economy of the Hells runs on souls…” Raphael explained.

You studied him for a moment. You were interested in the idea, but you had to make sure that you were not letting him somehow rope you into a deal. You would also have to be sure that this would not be traced back to you.

“I will encourage them to sign your deal. You will pay me half before their death and the rest after. I don’t care how you mean to kill them, but make sure it’s not too messy and it can’t be traced back to me. You will also leave their wives and children alive…gods know they’ve suffered enough by having to deal with those two idiots…And I am also not signing anything.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael said with a smile. “Fine. We have an agreement.”

As soon as you received the vision of your client’s demise, you left the city. You were staying in an inn, well on your way to Esmeltaran when Raphael popped up out of nowhere. You jumped at his sudden presence. He snapped his fingers and a bag of gold appeared on the nightstand. He looked around your room before seating himself in an armchair.

“Not quite living accommodations befitting a demigoddess, I would say,” Raphael said while looking around at the shabby room of the inn you were staying in.

“I don’t like staying in one place too long,” you said. “You’ve handed me the payment...”

“I have,” he said with a smile and snapped a bottle of Amnian dessert wine and two glasses into existence.

“So…” you said and made a shooing motion with your hands. “Go. Leave.”

“Is that any way to treat a business partner?” Raphael asked and feigned offense. “Where are your manners?”

Raphael smiled at you and held out a glass of wine. You looked him up and down and reluctantly took it.

“To us,” he said and clinked glasses with you.

You were looking at him with a deadpan expression.

“You are getting off on this, aren’t you?” you asked. “The fact that you managed to strike a deal with a demigod. That’s why you keep talking about it, isn’t it?”

“Perish the thought,” Raphael said and sipped his wine. “Can I not simply be thrilled about managing to strengthen the bond between myself and an incredibly useful acquaintance?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped the wine.

“This is a one-time thing,” you said. “And I would really appreciate if you stopped spying on me.”

“You are making it very difficult for me to do so when you are so fascinating to spy on,” he said. “I don’t see why we should not do this again. I think you would find it quite useful to have friends in low places with the direction you are currently headed in, dear. We could be good for each other.”

“I can see how my moral compass is a bit all over the place at the moment, but that does not mean I want to work with you, cambion,” you said and sipped your wine.

“You keep calling me that, as if it is meant as a slight. I am what I am…Although I do much prefer the term ‘devil’,” Raphael said. “I have long since raised above the station of a simple cambion.”

“I’m sure you prefer that, but it doesn’t make you any less of a cambion,” you said. “You are a half-mortal, like me, and there is no running from it. You are no more a devil than I am a god.”

“What a depressing way to view things,” Raphael mused and swirled the wine in his glass. “We are what our father’s made us, are we not? It is their blood that ensures that we are still alive, where had we been mortals, we would be long dead. It is their blood and the powers granted through it that has gotten us here. It is evident to anyone that there is nothing mortal about us, and yet you cling to the notion. Do you really think that we cannot be the same as our fathers, if not one day more than them, simply because we were once carried in mortal wombs?”

What he had said struck a chord, but you were never going to admit that to him.

“Thank you for the wine…and the philosophy lesson,” you said in a stern tone. “You should go.”

Raphael smiled at your urgency to get rid of him.

“I am sure you will warm up to me eventually,” he said. “We have an eternity to get to know each other, after all.”

His persistence was starting to truly infuriate you. You were not going to be business partners, or even acquaintances, with a fiend. You had heard all the stories about the vermin of the Lower Planes, and you did not want to be associated with them. It was beneath you.

“No,” you quickly said and emptied your wineglass before putting it on the table. Your eyes turned threatening. “You will leave me alone after this, do you understand? I am not interested.”

He chuckled at your growing hostility.

“Or what?” he asked with a smile. “Will you smite me, little goddess? I am at least a couple of thousand years your senior, do you really think you could take me?”

Raphael walked closer to you until he was right in front of your face. He was still wearing his smug smile.

Your eyes had turned thunderous at the blatant provocation, and magic was crackling over the skin of your hands in warning. Raphael looked down at your hands, without moving his head.

“Should we find out?” you asked with a tight smile.

His eyes drifted from your hands and back to your face. He was still smiling as his eyes went from the smile on your lips to your pale eyes. You saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. He lifted his hand, ready to snap.

“We will see each other again, Sibylla,” he said in a low voice and then snapped.

He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers. 

[cambion-companion]

I'm thinking for my next chapter I'm going to roll ability checks for the protagonist. It could go great or it could go really wrong.

[reverieblondie]

What about Raphael monologuing and/or being his smug self only to be surprised by "his" little mouse interrupting him by grabbing the collar of his clothing and dragging the cambion in to a searing kiss before she says something like 'You talk too much' or 'I got the gist, thank you' and gracefully striding off before he can even think to react? (your choice if Tav does this when it's just her and Raphael or if she pulls this stunt in front of a group of her companions who would likely be left there stunned for a few moments as well)

I took forever to get this done but I did your request with a bit of a twist I hope you enjoy!

Warning: last step is NSFW! MDNI! 18+ only!

How to shut a devil up in 5 easy ways

If you had to describe Raphael, you would say he is dangerous, mysterious, and admittedly very pleasing to the eye… the only problem? Raphael doesn't know how to shut up… is it a bard thing or a devil thing to have the inability to shut up? Personally, you wouldn't mind listening to him talk all night; he has a magnificent voice… But you're busy; you can't always sacrifice your time to entertain him. Though he doesn't always get the hint, so you will have to get creative… 

Be honest, 

It's been… What 30 minutes? 30 long minutes of you and your party standing outside of the abandoned village's gate listening (without interruptions, mind you) to Raphael go on and on about some cryptic warnings and strange tales. Honestly, you stopped paying attention ages ago when you had to tell Lae'zel via tadpole that, no, she can't cut his throat. Hells, even Gale is getting impatient, and he's as long-winded as they come. Everyone was over it, so putting on the leader pants, you go to silence the chatty cambion… of course, it didn't work when you, being a person of few words, tried the subtle approach and he was still trying to make his poetic points. Then your patience snaps. "Alright, we get it! Could you shut up already?!" Raphael goes silent from your burst of bluntness; it was rude and coarse… but he couldn't help how it made the slight smirk tug at the corner of his lips, something you immediately noticed. "Well, what kind of decorum is that? I try to give you sage words of wisdom, and this is my thanks, mouse?" he tsked his lips with a smile, his eyes lightening up at your annoyance… You roll your eyes, pushing past him with your party in tow. "Fuck off…" is all you utter before hearing a smooth laugh and a rushing flame. Seems like honesty worked.

2. Catching him by surprise, 

You are completely exhausted; your head and body scream and ache as you try to stretch your worn-out muscles. All your other companions have gone to rest for the night, something you are egar to do but the viscera and sweat that cling to you are too uncomfortable to ignore. So, gathering your things, you head down to the river for a cleansing soak to finally relax. However, as you head to your destination, a familiar figure leaning against a tree catches your attention and makes you roll your eyes... Raphael... "Well, mouse, you look completely worn down, not your usual bright eye look. You look miserable in fact." his voice purs as he walks beside you. With a sigh you continue on with him in tow mocking you. You don't need to look up to see that he's smirking at your annoyance. "I wouldn't say miserable, just not to be tested." you snip back, but Raphael only chuckles further, "I guess I should be careful when teasing you then..." He can tease you... but not with his words; you would want him to tease you with his hands... With his body... No, you can't be thinking like that for the annoying devil. Raphael starts his usual long-winded speeches, but not being in the mood, you ignore him. Finally getting to the river bank, you begin to undo your shirt, and as the fabric hits the ground and you undo your underclothes, that is when you hear silence? Turning, you See Raphael looking a bit surprised, and that just fuels you more. Stripped down you finally step into the water keeping your eye contact with him, he's finally quite and you can't help but feel smug. "Want to finish your rambling in the river with me?" You ask with a broad smile, perhaps showing off your assets just a bit to taunt him some more. Raphael thinks for a moment, his eyes drinking you in before responding, "Sorry, mouse, but I am afraid I have lost my train of thought... Another time, though..." With a snap, he's gone, leaving you to soak in silence. It's a bittersweet victory.

3. Interrupt Nicely 

You're in the middle of a celebration, one step closer to the city and another successful job of saving those you've become close to. Everyone in Last Light has been drinking, and you are feeling tipsy as you continue to drink more from the goblet filled with dry wine. Then you hear a familiar voice, "You're looking quite flushed, mouse... Careful not to indulge too much; your journey is far from over." Even drunk, you can tell who it is without looking, but you do (he's too pretty not too). Turning, you meet his smirk with a broad smile; warm and giggly, you can't help but feel unintimidated by him in this drunken haze. "If it isn't my stalker. Come to try and trick me out of my soul again?" Amused Raphael sits next to you, "I wouldn't dare try and take it from you in this state; it would be far too easy..." You giggle, leaning in close to him, taking a second to bask in his warmth and the curves and lines of his face before placing a finger to his lips, shushing him. "Shh, stop flirting with me, or I will think you're falling for me, devil." Raphael chuckles as he moves your hand and kisses your knuckles and your wrist. "Don't get cocky, mouse... That's what gets you mortals in trouble..." You lean in closer, resting your head on his chest, "Fine, fine, I won't be cocky; that's a better look on you anyways..." Raphael just lets you lean on him as he softly plays with your hair. He would never say it... but you might be right…

4. Interrupt Rudely 

He helped you... Why would a cambion like him have helped you? Of course, you knew his interest in your soul and aid in getting the crown, but you had been clear that you were not taking his deal... yet here he was, burning the wretch you were fighting to a crisp before they got the upper hand on you; he said he could be a savior of sorts, but this should be against his nature... As everyone is tending to their wounds, you are listening to him monologuing in, of course, the most flowery language. You start to wonder if this is always how he talks... Surely not; he must crack sometimes... Everyone has a weakness. Looking at his distinguished face, listening to his rich voice, you realize that he has a weakness for you—a weakness that has slowly grown on you as well. So, in a moment of impulse or maybe just wanting to shut him up yet again, you grab him by the collar, causing him to look down at you confused as you drag him closer and press your lips to his. It takes Raphael a moment to realize what's even happening before he's leaning into you, running his fingers through your hair. Then, when you slip your tongue through his lips to lick against his searing tongue, he groans, pulling you closer to his body as he takes in your taste (finally). After a few moments letting the passion overtake you both, you push him away. You look up at the shocked cambion, who seems to be at a loss for words. Smirking, you pat his cheek, "You talk too much." and though part of you wants to walk him back to your tent, you say goodnight and walk away. Raphael watches as you go to your tent, leaving him gawking at you. Meanwhile your companions watch with mouths agape at the scene that has just played out. "What the fuck is going on?" Karlach says while Gale stares unblinking, "I don't have the faintest clue..." Raphael eventually leaves, amused and eager to see you again. 

5. Keeping his mouth busy

This has to be the best one out of all your ideas to shut Raphael up. His dark wavey hair is held in a tight fist, as your back arches from the intense feeling of his tongue licking slowly against your folds, before swirling on your clit, it's utter bliss. His tongue was constantly being used before, but now having it licking against your wet sex is much better employment for his mouth. When you first met the half-devil, you had to admit you found him quite a fearsome sight but later he just turned into a reoccurring annoyance. Now here you are, your talkative cambion lapping and diving his hot tongue into your cunt as your thighs shake, almost as if he was tamed. Raphael looks up at you with his brown eyes practically black as he swirls then nips at your clit, making you moan his name like a song. He will always agree to eat you out for hours, his thick fingers stretching you out as he licks down your arousal as long as you're singing his name like a prayer. "Rapheal... ah! Gods!" Raphael breaks away from your cunt, smirking down at you, "Gods? Mouse, no gods can help you now that you're within my cl-" Before he can finish, you're pulling his mouth back down with a whine. Raphael smiles, flicking his tongue over you again in quick licks, making you keen, "My mouse...So demanding..." he whispers into your pussy, his hot breath making you tremble and quiver against his thick fingers. You can't hold back any longer, grinding your hips against his face, whining for him, "Please just shut up and let me cum!" Raphael has to hold back his laugh as he takes out his fingers and fucks you with his tongue; you can shut him up anyway you want as long as, in the end, you let him devour you.

[scuttlingcrab]

What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD

LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x

Summary: Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.” 

Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him. 

Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse. 

Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began. 

The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.

She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit. 

Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion. 

That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious. 

“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”

Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.

“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.” 

Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return. 

“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”

“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.

“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.

“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?” 

Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite. 

“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”

Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den. 

“So be it, if you insist.” 

Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison. 

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall. 

Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas. 

Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.

He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.

Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice. 

Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last? 

“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”

“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”

“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.  

“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy. 

“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.” 

Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.

Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork. 

“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”  

“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”

“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.” 

“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”

Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer. 

“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”

“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”

Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow. 

“One note though.” Tav whispered. 

“Go on?” 

“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”

Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.

Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright. 

Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests. 

“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party. 

The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting. 

“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him. 

“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room. 

“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.

Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion. 

“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”

Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.

“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.

Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.

The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.

[trappedinafantasy37]

We did it guys! Minthara is in the top 100 most mentioned video game characters on Tumblr, sitting comfortably at rank 55!

With Astarion at rank 1 (cause of course), Gale at 5, Shadowheart at 6, Karlach at 8, Lae'zel at 9, Wyll at 12, Halsin at 16, Tav at 19, Gortash at 47, and The Dark Urge at 67. Baldur's Gate 3 is also the most talked about video game on this platform, as well as the 6th most talked about thing on all of Tumblr!

I wish Minthara was higher, but you know what, I'm happy she's on there at all! It is also interesting that she ranks higher than Durge and that Durge is that low on the list. It's also pretty interesting that there is such a discrepancy between Durge and Gortash as Durgetash is also the 67th most talked about ship on the platform. It is quite an achievement that our favorite drow is even on that list at all.

It is all just making me think back to some of the more dejecting AO3 statistics with Minthara almost being a blip, practically a statistical outlier in some ways. Even some insignificant side characters got more attention and adoration than her, or had numbers that would compare to her. But Tumblr is a much bigger platform than AO3, containing a much wider array of topics (including fanfics). So for Baldur's Gate 3 and Minthara to stand out that much is really saying something! Reading these statistics on Tumblr does go to show that one platform does not represent the entire fandom and that AO3 is only a piece of the picture.