#raphael oneshot

[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.

[bg3fan]

Keeping you warm

Raphael x tav drabble (not proofread)

It's finally nighttime, and everybody is asleep, so you sneak out of your tent and go down the nearest river to take a refreshing and hopefully calming bath.

The nightmares weren't going easy on you today either, even though you feel like you could pass out from the exhaustion in your bones.

Arrived at the river, you strip down your sleep wear and pin your hair up. Slowly, you dip your toes into the cold water, and it immediately gives you goosebumps.

But nonetheless, you grit your teeth and sit down in the water, admiring the full moon as you tilt your head back. Hugging your knees to your chest, hoping it'll warm you up a little.

You look so peaceful and truly beautiful under the shining moon as you are oblivious to the campion hiding between the woods across from you.

He only wanted to catch up with korilla about your adventures when he caught you sneaking out of your tent. Curious as he is, he stopped to see where you're headed to.

And right now he finds himself seated on a rock and admiring your shivering form and relaxed expression. The next thing he knew, you put your face in your hands and started weeping loudly. And the sounds break something inside his chest.

Oh, how much he'd like to comfort you and hold you, cradle you, tell you that he'll take care of the tadpole, the elder brain, and everything else that worries your pretty head.

But he needs you to do your part in his perfect plan so that he can gain the power to conquer the hells and then to make you his.

He knows that if he shows special interest, one behind a contract, that will make you more a target than you already are.

He understands how you're feeling, you're under constant stress and pressure you don't know whom you can trust, always looking behind your shoulder in fear for an ambush.

Poor mouse, he thinks, you're only a mortal after all.

Your weeping is unbearable, so the only thing he can do is at least warm the river for you so that you don't catch a cold.

And in wonder, you lift your face as you feel the water getting warmer and your nose catch a familiar scent of cherries and sulfur.

Thankfully, it did calm your nerves even if it was a little, the warmth soothing your aching muscles, allowing you to stretch your lags and lay back and close your puffy eyes.

The scent is too familiar, and you know who is near, but you're too tired to deal with him now, and weirdly, you feel protected with him near.

It's no secret that he keeps Korilla near you to keep track of you. But knowing that he's there watching you makes you forget the threat of being ambushed or attacked in this vulnerable moment.

And you're sure that Raphael stayed with you until you've gone back to your tent. Safe with the others.

[hotheadedhero]

Daft Pretty Boys

AN: I was going to try and get something Halloween-like out but it's been busy lately. Have some fluffy angst with Raph, instead :D

Raphael x Reader

Warning: kinda angsty, soft-hearted Raph ahead :)

When you blessed the turtles with your bright presence and inevitably befriended them, Raphael didn’t realise just how much of an emotional rollercoaster it would be. As a person, you are amazing. You always make a point to engage with him and his brothers, even for the small things. Other than April, they’ve never felt more welcomed by human company before. The thing is, if he were to put one fault on you, it’s your taste in men. 

You fall fast and hard, and it’s not because of their looks. It’s the ones who have this idea that they know they look good: the confidence they exude, sharp-witted flattery on the end of a hook that you can’t help biting into. You get caught, pulled in, they have their fun, and then you’re chucked back into sea awaiting the next juicy-looking cast of bait. One would think you’d be smart enough to not fall for the same routine tricks over and over again but here we are.

Each time you say, “He’s really sweet,” followed by a “This one is different,” but he never is. You’re always taking that chance, betting on the next guy being Mr Right, only for it to end in heartbreak, and every time Raph’s at your aid when you come crying to him. That isn’t said with any malice for you. He will always be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe broken pieces of these stupid shmucks if he just had five minutes alone with them.

You grasp so desperately to hope. Raph would commend you for your optimistic persistence if it didn’t break him to see you in tears. There’s only so much one heart can take. He doesn’t want you to become some calloused husk of your sweet self, too afraid to take another chance. He doesn’t want you to end up like him. Raphael knows he’s unloveable. Regardless of his appearance, he has a temper - one that he keeps as far away from you as he possibly can. His feelings for you never seem to pass despite how much he tries but he isn’t meant for love. That isn’t how this world works. You, on the other hand, should be cherished and he’ll beat the next sorry sucker who does any less than that.

How? How can someone be so foolish to drop you like these men have? He doesn’t get it. Were it him, he’d spend every waking moment appreciating you, letting it be known just how precious you are and how lucky he is to be the one to call you his. But he isn’t. The same daydream can play as many times as it likes, it’s never going to go in that direction. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.

You just deserve so much more than the cards you keep getting dealt. You’ve probably got to be the sweetest person he’s ever had the luxury of meeting. A little bubble-brained at times but that’s in part what makes you so cute. It’s also why you end up in and out of these short-lived relationships, he reckons. Much like now, for instance. It’s almost routine, weirdly systematic in a way, how you waddle into the lair glassy-eyed and red-faced wearing that grey sweater - the one he calls your breakup sweater - that’s two sizes too big for you. So much for the macho man with the green eyes. Making it to one month is a record, so there’s that at least.

Raphael doesn’t say anything, just holds a hand out whilst the other cradles the back of his neck. By now, he’s learnt that there’s nothing he can say. It’s better to wait on you until you manage to find your words. You slowly trudge towards him and smack your forehead into his chest. All he can do is stand there and stare at the top of your head whilst he battles the urge to pick you up and take you away from all this frivolous bullshit. His arm falls to his side as he watches you, and you just about say what he would expect you to.

“I really thought this one would be different,” you whimper quietly and the hiccup in your throat makes his chest burn. “He seemed so genuine.”

Raphael’s heart clenches. He wants to scream that he’s the one who’s genuine, that he’s the one who’s been here through every heartbreak, every tear. But instead, he swallows his words, feeling the weight of his own unspoken feelings pressing down on his chest.

He pats the top of your head, almost awkwardly, and sighs, “I know.”

A pained laugh muffles against his chest. “I’m the problem, aren’t I?” you ask rhetorically, playing it off as some joke at your own expense but it only angers him further.

“It’s not you,” Raph replies, a hint of a growl edging into his tone. “They’re the ones who don’t know what they’re missin’.”

“But there’s a common denominator here. It feels like it’s me.” You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Like, maybe if I was just different-”

“Stop right there,” he interjects, his brow furrowing. “You are not the problem. They are. Trust me on that.”

You always say the wrong things about yourself: the things he thinks about himself on a daily; if he was different. You are such an honest person and yet you lie so frequently when you talk about yourself. A nasty bi-product of those worthless scumbags treating you the way they do. You want to believe him on his word but you also can’t ignore the facts. It’s always the same song and dance. You stupidly cling to hope, searching for the silver lining that never seems to come, and end up in this sad mess of a person.

Raphael watches as you pull away, the warmth of his body replaced by the chill of reality. It’s painful to see you so vulnerable, so exposed. He wishes he could shake you out of this cycle, snap his fingers and make you see what’s right in front of you. But he can’t. All he can do is stand there, the silent sentinel, while you cry into the fabric of your sweater. The moment lingers, heavy and full of unsaid words. He wants to tell you that you deserve better, that you should never settle for the likes of those clowns who don’t recognize your worth. Yet, the words stick in his throat, tangled with his own fear of inadequacy.

He clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “Tell you what, let’s grab a couple sodas and a slice. Sit up top for a bit, yeah?”

You pull back slightly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know if I can eat right now, Raph.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need to get outta this gloom. Plus, I’m starving,” he responds with a half-hearted attempt at humor, but the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Finally, you yield. Begrudgingly, he might add, but food and the fresh night air is what you need right now, especially seeing as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment all day crying. He takes whatever pizza he had leftover - it’s only lasted because Mikey has luckily been out - along with a couple cans and leads you through the sewers. Whilst he’s essentially forcing you outside, he goes at your pace, never pushing you beyond that. Sure, it takes longer than it should but you get to a nice rooftop eventually, and before you know it, he’s already got you venting with a slice in your hand.

“And then he pulls out the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ shtick,” you say and Raph follows with a quiet “Of course, he does,” before you continue, “and I swear, I could’ve just slapped him.”

“You should have.”

You hum shortly against a bite of pizza and shrug. “Ah, the moment’s long gone, anyway.”

The two of you glance at each other with a small laugh before returning to the view ahead. This feels better. Much better. Once again, your knight in shell-y armour has helped you bounce back from your foreboding. If you had it your way earlier, you would have loved nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch some bad reality TV to cheer you up. Not where Raph is concerned. He’s soft-natured when you need that shoulder to cry on but knows when to crack out a bit of that tough love, too. You’re always thankful for that - him - and you hope he knows just how much of a difference he makes.

"Hey.” He nudges you with his elbow and you look up, noting the light smirk on his face, though the seriousness behind his eyes isn’t something to be ignored. “Next asshole that breaks your heart, you just point me in the right direction.”

"And be an active participant in murder? Not a chance," you laugh and playfully swat him, earning a low chortle. You think you know what he’s getting at and it’s sweet in weird kind of way. With a perma-smile now glued to your face, you rest your head on his arm and speak more gently, "Thanks, though."

He glances down at you and tempts the idea of stroking a hand over your head. His fingers clasp into a fist and he looks ahead again, taking a gentle breath before responding quietly, "Yeah... don't mention it."

[cambion-companion]

Master of the Mouse

Yes yes there is really filthy shameful smut ahead. Adding this to Tumblr so I can keep my masterlist comprehensive.

Raphael x f!reader x Haarlep

Word count: 3174

Crystal blue water cascaded in waterfalls from feminine statues that surrounded a familiar steaming pool.

You licked your lips, the warm water as inviting as the first time you’d stepped foot into Raphael’s boudoir.

“Back so soon?” Haarlep reclined upon a plush red chaise pushed up against the far wall. The incubus once again wore Raphael’s cambion visage.

Haarlep raised an unimpressed eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by your unexpected appearance. “We did have such a delicious time together.” He gave you a lazy smile. “Although your stamina is worse than Raphael’s, if you can believe it.” Haarlep sat up slightly, grinning at the internal conflict he sensed within you. “Did you come back for more of Haarlep? Seemingly the closest you can get to what you truly desire. Has my master remained distant? How preciously sad.”

Every word, spoken in that infuriatingly exaggerated lilt, hit every insecurity and frustration you’d been battling since your very first visit to Raphael’s House of Hope.

The demon rose with a knowing smirk, rolling his neck and stretching his wings wide. Your pupils dilated as they followed the languid movement, each action made purposefully sensual for your torment.

“I must admit, I am rather disappointed you didn’t follow through with retrieving that little contract of yours. It would’ve made for such a satisfying ending.” Haarlep took one step forward, pushing into your space, the heat rolling off his body already warming your clammy skin. “I may even be free now if it wasn’t for your…weakness.” He trailed a sharp finger down your cheek. “You’ve felt him, I assume? The heady rush in your pliable mortal body as Raphael took me in your form.”

You shivered, remembering.

“Speak, little trifling creature.” Haarlep caressed your neck, nails digging into your skin just enough to raise welts. “I wish to hear your voice. Raphael seems to appreciate when I speak using it.” His strong hand wrapped around your throat, resting gently against your collarbone with a dangerous promise.

“I…” You swallowed thickly, your hand closing around his wrist as he gave your neck a slight squeeze. “Yes, I’ve felt it. Multiple times.”

“It must rankle.” Haarlep laughed, his hand trailing down to your tattered disguise, cutting into the fabric of the dirty bodice. “He chooses not fuck you.”

Your eyes sparked fury and you pushed at his chest angrily, not budging the towering fiend an inch. “You’re just a cheap imitation. How does it feel to have been stripped of any free will and identity?”

You’d made a mistake. Taken one step too far. Only realizing your fatal error when his grip on your throat became suddenly tight as a vice, cutting off your air flow. You scrabbled futilely at Haarlep’s hand, your eyes widening in fear. The incubus’ face was a mask of dark intent, grim and deadly.

You released a jolt of magic, channeling lightning energy into the fiend. He twitched and gasped in pain, loosening his grasp enough for you to suck in several mouthfuls of air.

“The kitten does have teeth after all.” Haarlep sneered, tail lashing. “Be aware in this house we yank them out.”

You withdrew your radiant dagger, taking a defensive stance, drawing an amused laugh from the demon.

“My dear, you were foolish to return.” A new voice joined, the familiar cadence of Raphael. The cambion leaned casually against a marble column; arms folded over the chest of his human disguise. His keen brown eyes observed your standoff with raised brows. “Don’t damage my property.” He straightened and strode to you, addressing you and Haarlep. “Or I will be forced to take drastic measures.”

Raphael gave his incubus a sharp look over your shoulder. You felt the demon shrink back, temporarily cowed.

“Haarlep isn’t as magnanimous as I.” Raphael tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, taking a moment to consider you archly. “You truly have a death wish, my errant mouse.”

“You are impossible to reach.” You said, slightly breathless, the skin on the back of your neck prickling under Haarlep’s glare. “I need to speak to you.”

“Thus, you think it prudent to break into my home, in violation of our contract.” Raphael tucked his fingers beneath your chin and tilted his head at you. “The only reason you are not cinders beneath my feet at this very moment is because you chose to not pilfer my belongings.”

“Haarlep doesn’t count?” You asked, your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Haarlep never counts.” Raphael answered firmly. “I admit to being pleased by the little surprise you left for me.”

You flushed, though your eyes did not waver from his. “Something you’ve used plenty to your advantage.”

“Naturally!” Raphael chortled, a devious twist to his lips. “Just who do you think you are dealing with, my dear?” He leaned in close, his cheek brushing yours. The air around you grew thick with heated tension. “Surely, this isn’t you complaining?”

“Not exactly.” Your eyelashes tickled your cheeks as you turned your face just enough for your lips to graze the corner of Raphael’s mouth. “Though I certainly have no interest in being second to a demon.”

“Bold little thing.” Raphael withdrew just enough to have a clear view of your face. “I do so like it when my clients have some vim and vigor.”

Raphael took a step back, his eyes roving your body. “Such rags you wear. The better to not draw ire from the residents of my house?” He smiled knowingly at you. “Such a blight upon your body offends me. Remove them.”

He could’ve just snapped your clothes away, baring you in an instant, but it was clear Raphael wanted to savor having you in this position. You slowly began unbuttoning the front of your blouse, heat blossoming pink across your cheekbones as you stripped in front of both fiends.

“Your embarrassment is darling.” Raphael slid a hand across your side, resting it upon your hip. “However superfluous. I’ve seen and felt all of your flesh while my incubus has worn it.”

You gave the devil a measured look from beneath your lashes. “You’ve never yet touched me, however. Not truly.”

“Nor you, me.” Raphael seemed to be suppressing his amusement, cocking his head to the side with a gleam in his eyes. His visage shimmered, wreathed momentarily in hellfire as it grew and transformed into his cambion form. A slightly mocking smirk tugged his crimson lips. “I have it on good authority you prefer me like this. A quaint little quirk I find endlessly endearing, love.” Raphael took a measured step toward you, leaning down until your noses brushed. “Do as I say, to the letter, and you might still get out of this alive. Yes?”

You swallowed, reading the fine line between danger and desire you now tread.

You nodded, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “Yes.”

“Good.” Raphael gave your hip a final squeeze before guiding you towards the familiar bed. “Now, lay upon your back and do not move until I permit it.”

Your obedience was the only option you had left, Haarlep followed and sat at the corner of the mattress as you laid down. You shuffled back toward the headboard until only your feet hung over the edge. Haarlep leaned forward and began stroking along the length of your legs, teasing the inside of your thighs. The demon gave you a deviously discerning look as you shuddered in response to his attention.

You turned your head as Raphael approached the side of the bed, holding a glittering decanter filled with dark liquid. Notes of a rich whiskey wafted on a warm breeze to your nose and your muscles tensed, knowing where this was going.

“Hold still. Don’t twitch, little mouse.” Raphael’s hand pressed firm upon your shoulder, Haarlep moved to hold your ankles together in one hand. “This spirit is hellishly expensive. It would be unfortunate for you if a single drop was wasted.”

With a flourish, Raphael unstopped the glass bottle and tipped it slowly and with finesse. You felt the warm liquid filling your belly button, the drip of it splashing your skin as Raphael finished his pour.

“What a sinful delight you are turning out to be.” Raphael bent over your quivering form. His breath ghosted hot upon your chest. “Now hold perfectly still for me.”

You tried valiantly to remain still, a futile attempt, your skin shivering as his tongue circled each breast and threatened to bite at your pert nipples. You tensed slightly in mild trepidation.

“Good girl.” Raphael murmured and chuckled, knowing exactly the effect his praise had. His tongue moved slowly down from the valley of your chest to your navel. You felt his tongue swirl against your skin as he slurped the whiskey down. Raphael groaned with satisfaction and gave your waist a sharp bite before withdrawing, squeezing your thigh approvingly.

Hands gripped your waist; you weren’t sure if they belonged to Haarlep or Raphael. You were maneuvered like a doll onto all fours, the hands on your waist slid to your neck and hair as Haarlep positioned himself on the pillows beneath your torso, guiding your hands to support yourself on his lap.

You knelt over Haarlep, your fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, smoothing your thumbs over the various ridges marking his infernal nature. You glanced up at the demon wearing Raphael’s form, hellfire eyes gazing back down at you with a cocky grin.

“Now, pet. Enough words.” Raphael instructed, the bed dipping behind you and his warmth pressing against your rear. “Put that lush mouth of yours to better use.”

The tip of your tongue wetted your lips before you pressed a tentative kiss to the angry head of Haarlep’s member. Precum coated your mouth, the heat of it simmering and stinging your lips.

“Now is certainly not the time to act the part of a wilting flower.” Raphael murmured in your ear, his chest and hips pressing flush against you from behind. His words were laden and dripping with lust. “Pleasure me.”

You obeyed, taking the incubus into your mouth, the answering groan from both fiends reverberating through your own chest. Raphael began toying with you from behind, spreading your thighs further apart with one hand and circling your heat until he deemed you ready.

Raphael pushed his hard length into you, drawing a moan from deep within your throat, the sound choking around Haarlep as the demon guided you by the hair further down against him.

Your body began rocking beneath Raphael’s weight, he hissed against the nape of your neck, unable to reconcile the combined pleasure you and Haarlep were giving him.

“Enough.” Raphael’s hands gripped your hips possessively, partially holding you up as your thighs began to tremble. “Kiss her.” Raphael said, his voice lowered in pitch as he continued to thrust into you.

Haarlep obeyed, withdrawing his length from your throat only to take your lips in a scorching kiss, his hand beneath your chin. Haarlep’s long tongue delved into your mouth, your eyes rolled back in pleasure while Raphael fisted your hair from behind and tugged until your neck arched back for Haarlep’s hand to wrap around.

The incubus licked his spittle into your mouth, not releasing you until you swallowed. The effect was immediate. Fresh heat pooled in your belly. The fiends surrounding you laughed as your sounds of pleasure heightened in pitch, a buzzing molten sensation overtaking your limbs to the point of near collapse.

Raphael’s arms wrapped around your torso, grasping a breast non-gently as he lifted you and pulled your body back against his chest. “There you are.” He purred, licking the shell of your ear as you watched Haarlep begin stroking his cock still shining wet from your own saliva.

Raphael turned your head forcefully to him, licking his way across your jaw before his lips and tongue began tangling with your own. You gasped at the ferocity of his touch, your bodies rocking together, the friction building to a crescendo as the incubus spit coursed through your veins. Turning the edges of your vision white.

“So eager, a perfect jewel in the palm of my hand.” Raphael murmured, taking your bottom lip between his teeth until you whimpered. “My treasure, not yet. You still must be punished for interloping uninvited.”

Raphael withdrew completely from you, gesturing for Haarlep to follow suit. A strangled cry caught in your throat at the sudden absence of pleasure and warmth. You twisted around with surprising dexterity given your current state, glaring daggers at both fiends. You were able to tell which was Raphael by the especially amused smile on the smug bastard’s face.

“Ah, ah.” Raphael raised a finger to you, commanding you to sit back down upon his bed. His tail swished back and forth as a sly grin tilted his lips, showing off sharp white teeth.

You made your displeasure known by the petulant expression you gave him before settling back cross-legged, having no choice but to obey the devil’s every whim.

“Watch and squirm, little mouse.” Raphael kept his eyes on you even as Haarlep began biting and licking down Raphael’s body, deep red as a ripe cherry. “Keep your hands upon the sheets.”

Your gazes locked, your whole body flushing as the sounds of Haarlep pleasuring his master filled the room. You fidgeted, trying to gain some sense of friction, especially after Raphael closed his eyes and moaned low in his throat. “Be still, my dear.” His eyes opened to burn once again into you.

Haarlep continued moving between Raphael’s thighs, his wings stretching to either side as he knelt upon the luxurious rug. Raphael continued voicing his pleasure, to torment you more than anything it seemed.

After what seemed to you an eternity, the cambion pulled Haarlep by the hair away from his body. “Change.” He instructed tersely.

A glimmer of orange light surrounded Haarlep, the fiendish form shrinking into a smaller feminine shape. Your eyes widened as you saw your own visage blinking owlishly back at you, the second time you’d had such a disconcerting view.

The demon had the gall to blow you a small kiss, grinning as the blood drained from your face.

Raphael arched an amused brow as well. “Hands on the bedspread, pet.”

You felt the familiar tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The incubus in your form turned to face you and pushed their hips back against Raphael’s.

All three of you made a soft sound of pleasure.

Raphael didn’t bother to move.

He made Haarlep do all the work, the incubus riding back against his cock. All the while the cambion’s eyes remained fixed on you sitting meekly upon his bed, your aching fingers twisting in the silken sheets.

You bit into your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your blood. Your gaze became pleading, not able to look away from Raphael’s sharply angled face. His tail wrapped around Haarlep’s leg as he growled a command for them to move faster.

Haarlep bent forward, grasping the bedpost, the lewd sound of lovemaking teasing your ears and making your mouth water.

“Now, your turn to watch.” Raphael spoke, his teeth gritted from the effort it seemed to take him not to spend himself there and then. “Observe how I treat a playmate I actually desire.” He pushed Haarlep unceremoniously to the side and strode to you. His body pressed you back against the mattress as he crawled over you, his massive wings extending and falling either side of where you lay prone.

“Raphael.” You didn’t know what you intended to say, all thoughts silenced as his mouth found yours. All teeth and tongue, demanding a claim to you that no amount of magic could wash away.

He hungrily swallowed your moans and whimpers, his sharp nails digging into the flesh of your hip until beads of blood blossomed. Your hands touched and pressed against the thin flesh of his wings, his body shivering in response as he slowly began grinding down against your writhing hips.

Like the rest of his fiendish body, Raphael’s cock had ridges all along its girth. You experienced the dizzying stretch of your body accommodating his intrusion, the ridges catching and rubbing against your most erogenous parts. Your toes curled in response, your legs wrapping instinctively around Raphael’s torso. He answered with a growl as his sharp teeth found the base of your neck, marking you as his possession.

Hellfire surrounded your twisting bodies. It licked harmlessly against the sheets and your skin, framing the lurid scene in flickering light and shadow.

Pain and pleasure mixed with desire and fear.

Your fingers sought him, wrapping around his lower right horn. Raphael took your wrist and pinned the offending hand to the bed, giving your neck a reprimanding bite. “You are here to serve me.” He reminded you, his tongue soothing over where he’d broken skin. “Careful.”

You wanted to say something witty and stinging as a retort, but your mind was far too lust addled for such a feat.

You were his. He was not yours.

The igneous tension in your belly began seeping down into your legs. Your tired muscles tensed. You cried out your release against Raphael’s neck, clinging to the cambion as his body became the anchor to your own.

Raphael followed soon after, unable to withstand the way your body milked him. His seed burned into you as he slammed against your hips, each thrust drawing a cry of pained pleasure from your aching throat.

Raphael sat up slowly, observing the mess he’d made of you upon his own bed. He caressed a hand through your hair before digging his claws against your scalp, drawing from you a final mewl.

Looking conceited as ever, the devil stepped to the floor and rolled his shoulders, admiring his reflection in the standing mirror. “The wanton woman waltzed blithely to the devil’s den. With the sole aim to feel pleasure beyond mortal ken.”

Raphael grinned at you, self-assured and smug while you continued to desperately catch your breath, struggling to sit up. He tilted his head, gesturing lazily for Haarlep to approach from where the incubus had sat back against the chaise.

“Clean our guest.” With another wave of his hand, clothes reappeared upon Raphael’s form, his appearance collected and coiffed as though nothing untoward had occurred. “I have important business to attend to.” Raphael hesitated a moment, his glowing eyes looking you over then flicking to Haarlep as the incubus walked to where you still lay. “Keep her here. Our time together is not yet done. Oh, and Haarlep…” Raphael’s tone lowered to a menacing timbre. “Speak to Him about this little distraction and I will find out. I demand your silence, or I will personally strip that twisting tongue from your wretched mouth.”

Long fingers snapped and a shower of sparks enveloped Raphael, whisking him from the room and leaving you alone once again under the piercingly judgmental gaze of his incubus.

[xtreklx]

Bumpin' ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: a self-indulging one-shot I thought up for Raphie boy. thanks for reading!

__________

"Y/N, I'm boooooooored."

Michelangelo let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned to look at you. You were both strewn about the living room of the lair, him on the floor and you on the couch. This time was normally used for your weekly Mortal Kombat sesh, but Donatello had shut off the lair's power to make a repair, so the two of you were forced to find an alternative activity. Which sounded like a simple task, but had since proven the opposite.

You mimicked your friend's long-drawn out sigh with a smirk on your face. "Yeah, I bet Don decided on purpose to do this right now," you replied. "Not that I blame him, we do get pretty loud when we game." You were laying on the couch as you spoke, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone's home screen and hoping that an app or notification would give you some sort of inspiration.

You thought for a moment as Mikey continued his mock sighs, which were rising in both volume and drama, before turning to him with an idea. "Hey Mikey, do you use Spotify to listen to music?" He looked to you again before pulling out his phone. "Yeah, team Spotify all the way! Why?"

You sat up with a new invigoration. "We should create a blended playlist!" You exclaimed, opening the app on your phone. "We can compare our music tastes and see what we have in common, it'll be fun!" Mikey sat up from his spot on the floor and handed you his phone with the Spotify app open. "Hell yeah, girl! I'm always in the mood to bump some tunes! Lemme go get my speaker." And with that, he took off to his room.

You got to work with both of your phones in your hand. When he returned, you hit shuffle on your blended playlist and the music started flowing from the speaker. You moved to sit next to him on the floor.

"When I look at the playlist story, it says we have a 56% music match." "Okaaaaaaay, that's not too bad," Mikey replied. "Where do we match up, dudette?" You tapped the screen again, showing him. "Our number one match is Tyler the Creator. That makes sense, I listen to him a lot!" "No way, me too!" Mikey exclaimed. "He's definitely one of my fave artists."

The two of you began chatting away and singing along to songs as they came up, while unknowingly summoning a third party.

"Poor Don'll never get the quiet time he wants," Raphael spoke, shaking his head as he walked into the living room from the dojo. His gruff voice startled you from behind and your heart rate increased, as it often did around the short-tempered brother. You had had a crush on him for a few months now, but were far too intimidated and nervous to make a move, so it went unaddressed. The turtle in question strolled over and plopped down on the couch, looking down at you both on the floor. "What're you two idiots doing, anyway?"

"We're just bumpin' some tunes, bro!" Mikey called, shaking his head to the beat of the song playing. "We're comparing our music tastes!" You excitedly said. "And actually, we're using a very technical algorithm, so this is in the name of science! Donnie couldn't argue with that," you grinned up to the turtle in red. Raph rolled his eyes but let a small smirk grace his features in return. Dork.

"Alright dollface. Since it's so impressive, show me how it works."

You explained the process to him as Mikey continued to jam to the music playing from his speaker. Raph listened and examined the blended playlist you had created. "Hmm... Y/N, see what ours would look like," he pondered, reaching for his phone. Again, your heart sped up, but you breathed out an "O-okay" and took his phone from him. As you tapped the screen, you ignored Mikey wiggling his brows at you in your peripheral vision, knowing about your feelings toward his brother.

When you finished, you gasped slightly, and turned the screen to Raph. "We're at 84%!!!" you squealed, showing him where your favorite artists intertwined. You scrolled through the playlist to see a mix of heavy metal, grunge, classic rock, R&B and rap. Tyler the Creator was also listed as one of your top matching artists.

"No way," the brute scoffed, leaning towards you so that he could look over your shoulder at your blended playlist. You both pointed out which songs were your favorite and why, and also chatted about the favorite artists you had in common. Your nerves eased as you connected with him, your heart thrumming at the realization that he was being... kind of vulnerable with you. You were getting to see a part of Raph that he had never shown you before.

All of the sudden, the song changed to 'Dogtooth' by Tyler the Creator, and Mikey jumped up, hollering. You gasped with joy, and you both looked to each other with excitement. "I love this song!!!" You both yelled, and then: "JINX!" You laughed hard as Mikey ran from the living room, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs, 100% looking to annoy his other older brothers.

As your laughing ceased and you turned back to Raph, you took in a quick breath as you realized how close you two were leaning in before the outburst. You were still on the floor, but had scooted towards his spot on the couch until you were practically leaning on his lap. You could feel his warm breath brush your face, and he got an amused look on his face as he gazed at you.

Your eyes widened naturally with the proximity, and after a moment of silence and staring at each other, you opened your mouth you speak. But before you could, Raph began rapping along to the song playing from Mikey's speaker, a growing smirk on his face and a unique glint in his hazel eyes as he watched you.

"She could ride my face, I don't want nothin' in return. Except for some her time and all her love, that's my concern. I'm tryna buy my neighbor's house..."

The eye contact he was giving you in this moment could only be described one way: heavy. And your face turned beet red. The closeness, his gaze, his smirk, the words- it was all too much for your poor heart to take.

"R-raph, w-what are you doing?"

"I'm just bumpin' some tunes, dollface."

[littlefanficprincess]

Below The Surface

Tmnt 2012 x (Fem) reader

2k

Synopsis: The turtles reunite with a childhood friend.

(A/n): The timeline is changed a bit, they are let out to the surface for the first time but before April was kidnapped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moving to a new place is not something you can used to easily, especially a big city like New York. It wouldn't be surprising that parents would lose their child on the first day.

"Ow..." A small voice mumbles as a girl falls on her arms and legs, her shoes, socks and (skirt/shorts) were soaked by the sewer water.

The four years old had tripped into an uncovered manhole and fell in. Who would even leave open a manhole like that?

"You shouldn't have gone up there, what if master Splinter finds out?"

"It was only a peek, he won't know a thing"

"Wait, what was that noise?"

"It was coming from over there"

(Y/n) pushes herself off the ground, trying to shake the water out of her shoes. She squints her big (e/c) eyes when she sees four sillouettes heading her way. They were a bit shorter than her.

When they get close enough, the light escaping through the manhole illuminate their forms. Short humanoid green creatures black eyes, slight differences between them. They looked like they were straight out of an alien movie, but just with shells instead.

"What is that thing?" One with a bandaid on its cheek asks, disgust on its face."It looks like us, is that fur coming out of its head?" The tallest one observes.

"We shouldn't go near, it could be dangerous" The plain looking one warns the others.

"So cool!" The one with freckles smiles, didn't seem to be listening. He approaches the girl with curiosity "What are you?"

(Y/n) tilts her head as he leaned in closer. "I am a human, nice to meet you...turtles?"

"It can talk!" The bandaged turtle yells, pointing at her. They haven't seen any other species beside the rat that had cared for them since before they could even remember.

Then it was the tall turtle that began walking up to her. He stands behind her, pulling on her hair. He watches as her head would slightly tilt back as he pulled.

"Ow, that hurts" (Y/n) complains, pulling away from his grip. "It's not fur, it's hair"

"Hair...interesting" The tall turtle mumbles in amazement.Hesitation leaves the bandaged one's mind, deciding to join his brothers.

"Wait, Raph–" The plaine turtle calls out, but was ignored. First they break the 'no going to the surface' rule and now they are interacting with a 'you-man'.

'Raph' scowls, eyeing the human child. "Are all of you 'you-mans' this ugly?" He questions, poking at her cheek. "Why is it so squishy?"

The remaining turtle sighs as he realised he failed to get his brothers to listen to him. He follows after, standing next to the others. He judges aside Raph, looking straight into the girl's eyes. "Your eyes" he mentions.

His words catches the attention of the turtle with freckles. He leans over, looking at her eyes aswell. (Y/n) just saw two pair of black beady ones. "They're pretty! Like that big shiny rock master Splinter has"

"It's called a gemstone, Mikey" The turtle next to him corrects him.

"Gemstones, I like it!" Freckle throws his arms around (Y/n)'s shoulder, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Can we keep it, I will care for it real good!"

"I'm not a pet, you know" (Y/n) pouts, crossing her arms.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes"

"We can't, we have already been away for too long" Plaine argues.

"Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo?" They hear someone calls out.

In a flash, the turtles had dissapeared. (Y/n) looks around confused, wondering where they went. She looks back up the manhole opening, seeing a ladder on the wall below.

Not having much choice, she climbed up it. She snuck out of the alleyway, being met with the sunlight. She was soon found by her parents, her dads didn't believe her story about talking turtles. They wrote it off as it being her imagination.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━���

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

Then twelve years later, (Y/n) lays awake in her bed. Everytime she closed her eyes, she finds them open again. She gives up trying to sleep and gets out of bed.

She opens the door to her balcony and takes a seat on her balcony. She looks up at the sky, she would see stars if the air wasn't so polluted. She squints her eyes when she sees something on the roof of the building that was in the other side of the street.

(Y/n) gets up and leans on the railing, trying to get a good look. Were those...turtles? Each wearing a different colored badana, blue, purple, red and finally orange.

The shortest turtle stops in place, turning towards her. The two make eye contact, both not moving an inch. She hears one of the other turtles call out to him, so he runs off.

'Those guys were real this whole time. I'm not hallucinating, right? Are they ninja now? Would they remember me? Probably not'

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

(Y/n)'s eyes snap open when she hears knocking on her window. She pushes aside the curtain to see the shortest turtle hanging upside infront of her window.

She gets up from her bed and opens the door to her balcony. She watches as he lands on the balcony, a big smile on his face. She barely gets time to react as he pulls her into a tight hug.

"Gemstone! I thought I'd never see you again" He says, excitedly. Then letting go of her, bouncing up and down.

"You still remember me?" (Y/n) says surprised. She regonised as the turtle with freckles, his skin was more on the lime side compared to his brothers.

The turtles grabs her face, squishing her cheeks. "How could I forgot this cute face. Also I remember you by your eyes, so shiny like gemstones" He cooes.

(Y/n) graps his three fingered hands, pulling them down, but not letting go. "You have a great memory. My name is (Y/n), nice to meet you"

"The name is Michelangelo" He steps back, pulling out a pair of nunchucks and spinning it around. "But most people call me Mikey" His eyes suddenly light up, getting an idea. "What if I bring you to lair, I can't wait to see their reactions"

Looking back into her room, the girl thinks. "My dads aren't home, so they won't notice... It couldn't hurt, right" She slightly shrugs her shoulders.

She watches as he turns around and hunges over. "Get on!" Hesitantly, (Y/n) does as he says and climbs onto his back. She grips tightly his shoulders as he holds her legs. She tries her best to not scream her head off as Mikey jumps off the balcony and onto the next roof.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

Quietly, Mikey leads (Y/n) into lair. She hides behind his shell as he shuffle towards his room. His brothers didn't pay too much attention to him. Leo was watching a tv show, Donnie was in his lab and Raph was reading something.

The turtles and his human friend sneak into the bedroom. (Y/n) tenses up when the foul smell of dirty clothes and moldy food hit her nose, it was definitely worse than the smell of the sewers.

"I'll be right back, gotta do something real quick. stay here" Mikey says, as if he was he talking to a dog. He slowly walks out and closes the door behind.

(Y/n) looks at the mess covering the bedroom. She folded the dirty underwear, questioning why he would even wear them.

Raphael eyes his brother as Mikey walks out of his room. He hears something coming from the room, sounding like things being moved. It couldn't be any of his brothers, meaning there was an intruder.

He gets up from the couch, pulling out one of his sai. He strolls over to Mikey's room, slowly opening the door. There he finds a girl, folding clothing. She didn't seem to have heard him. He puts the sai towards her. "What do you think you're doing here?" He questions her.

Flinching at the unfamiliar voice, (Y/n) realises she had been caught. She slightly turns her, looking who was standing behind her.

A turtle, a bit taller than Mikey. He wore a dark red bandana, which was a bit tattered. There was a small crack in the front of his shell, makes (Y/n) connect him with the turtle who had a bandaid on their cheek. Then she notices the weapon he had pointed her. "Um...I come on peace" She akwardly smiles.

-

Walking out of Mikey's room was Raph, pointing his weapon at a girl who was walking infront of him. "Look at what I found doing laundry in Mikey's garbage dump".

Leo looks away from the Tv, wondering what his brother was talking about. His face turn to surprise and then to fear "A human!?".

"Apparently Mikey got followed back here, not sure why you would good his underwear" Raph mutters, poking the girl's back with his sai.

The door lab opens, revealing Donnie. He pulls his goggles from his eyes, putting it on his forhead. "What is going on, I heard yelling" He looks at Lei, than Raph and then... "A human!?" He puts his hands over his mouth, realising that he could've alerted master Splinter.

"That's what I'm asking"

(Y/n) holds up her hands, trying to not get stabbed. "Listen, there is a good explanation for this"

A door slams open and Mikey comes running in. He stand between (Y/n) and his brothers, waving his arms. "Guys, guys, it's chill. It's just gemstone"

"Gemstone?" Donatello repeats, confused. He cautiously approaches.

"You mean the one we found in the sewers when we were little?" Leo asks, getting up himself. (Y/n) suspected him being the plain one and the tall one, being the tall one obviously.

Mikey crosses his arm, with a proud expression on his face. "The one and only" He brags, smiling.

Now being surrounded by the four turtles, (Y/n) realises how much they have grown. When she first met them, they were a bit smaller. But now they were almost towering over her.

Suddenly she feels a tug at her head, making her head tilt back. She realises it was one with the purple bandana, just like when they were little. "Ow, it's not fur..."

Donnie's eyes widen at her words. "...it's hair" He finishes the sentence. "Yeah, alright. It's her" He admits, feeling the texture of her hair.

"Anyways, my name is (Y/n). It's nice to meet you all again" (Y/n) introduces herself, fiddling with her sleeves.

The turtle with blue bandana places his hand on his chest. "I'm Leonardo, the one pulling your hair right now is Donatello and the angry looking one is Raphael, you already seem pretty familiar with Mikey"

"What is going on here?" Everyone seem to freeze when they hear master Splinter's voice. They turn to see him, looking stern at them.

"Sensei, I–" Leo tries to explain, but his defenses seem to melt away when he sees his father's gaze. Him and Raph step aside to reveal (Y/n).

"I let you go to the surface and you being back a human?" Master Splinter says, infuriated by his sons' decision.

Before any of the turtles could speak, (Y/n) steps forward. "Please, don't get angry at them, sir. It's not their fault. I had accidentally fallen into a manhole and wandered my way here, they were trying to get me out". The four brothers look surprised at her, not expecting her to lie for them.

The humanoid rat looks down at her, stroking his thin beard. "I must admit, taking the blame for them is quite honorable. But falling into the sewers is something you usually don't do twice".

"Twice? Wait, you knew?" Leonardo asks him.

"I have keen sense of smell and hearing, also you are pretty loud" Master Splinter explains, looking at (Y/n) once again. "Do you promise to keep our existence a secret from the rest of the world".

(Y/n) nods, looking up at him with a determined expression on her face"I won't tell a soul".

Master Splinter smiles, knowing that he could trust the girl. "Then you are welcome to reside here when you see as needed"

"Oh yeah!" Mikey cheer, pumping his fist. The other three couldn't help, but also be happy she gets to stay.

Their first human friend, reunited with them once again.

[ghostytoad]

hey so how do you think the rottmnt turtles would deal with the boys being busy and s/o comes up behind them and gives them a hug and then lets go and somehow they had snuck a xmas gift bag on their lap and s/o is gone from the room. Inside the gift bag is three things; Something they’ve been wanting for fun, something domestically useful and homemade cookies?

i'm gonna have to break this up into 4 parts again because it's a bit too long for tumblr's block limit agaiiin

* Season of Surprises *

ROTTMNT Boys receive an unexpected gift

Summary: The boys have been working themselves to the shell. Between patrols, kicking villanous butt, and general hero business, it leaves little time for their darling Reader. Fortunately, 'tis the season of gift-giving.

Oneshot for: Raphael

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff; Mild angst; Pre-established relationship || Words: 1k

Donnie | Leo | Mikey

Raph:

His fun gift: A giant turtle plush

His useful gift: Phone big enough to fit in his big hands

His cookies: Chocolate chunk cookies

It had been an entire week since Raphael had gotten any sleep and the low, unintelligable mumbling that rumbled in his chest made it obvious that he could really use the rest. His body, mind, and very spirit were aching for a peaceful night's sleep and Raph was determined to will himself into bed despite the aches that riddled his body threatening to topple him over. He had barely reached past his room's doorway before he collapsed forward with a thud and a delayed groan, his face colliding with the cold, hard floor.

'Well, this isn't any better-' he thought to himself and struggled to wriggle and worm his body across with floor, the dragging of his spikes leaving scratches and cracks on the unmoving concrete. He'd worry about the scuff in the morning For now, his bed was far too inviting for his overworked body to ignore and by god was he going to get some sleep tonight. The week prior had been nothing but back to back patrols, the brutal rate of which started taking a major toll on the titan's massive form. The long-neglected bruises, scratches, and scrapes dotting his body made his quest for a good night's sleep all the more pressing. He was only inches away from the foot of his bed when his trek was interrupted by the pattering of soft footsteps beside him.

"Mikey, I'm not carrying you back to your room." he deadpanned, flattening his raised torso back onto the floor hoping to discourage his playful little brother from jumping onto his back and demanding a piggyback ride. As the footsteps stopped right next to his face, Raph turned his head and looked up through squinted eyes. Instead of olive green legs standing beside him, he was met with what he recognized as his significant other's kneeling form next to his face, a wrapped box being held out toward him. Raph blinked slowly up at Y/N and reached a tenative arm up to accept the gift.

"Babe, hey!" his voice was deeper and much slower than he'd wanted it to be, "What's with the-"

As soon as the parcel left their hands, Y/N wordlessly smiled down at the snapping turtle mutant and started back out the door in a haste.

"Uh… Th-Thanks! Love ya too!" he'd called out after them, the last part sounding uncertain considering they'd left in a hurry without so much as a greeting. Did they hate him all of a sudden? Were they mad at him? Did they mean to leave him a present sooner? Did they think he was unattractive lying on the floor like that? Okay, maybe the last one was a bit of a stretch, but nothing was off-limits in Raph's overthinking mind. But they'd left a gift, surely they must still at least LIKE him?

The turtle had glanced at the box that sat in his large palm, sitting himself up to examine his partner's handiwork. Chuckling to himself, he admired how delicately the red foil wrapping paper had been folded, edges neat and free of crinkles. The golden lace bow that sat so beautifully on top could only have come from their careful and precise hand; if there were ever someone with a knack for gift wrapping, it was his beloved Y/N.

In a thoughtless swish and tear, he unwrapped the plain medium sized box that hid underneath. His attention was caught by the little sticky note taped to the side of the box, reading:

Merry Christmas, my Red Angel!

I know you've been working extra hard and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you and everything you do! Let me know how you like your new gifts!

Love, Y/N

PS. I named him Raph Jr.

"Raph Jr, huh?" he'd hummed while a cheeky, lovesick grin stretched across the boy's face and a dark blush colored his green cheeks. What did he ever do to deserve someone so wonderful and thoughful? How could he ever hope to repay them for such a kind gesture? His dreamy eyes read over the love note again and again, drinking in every sweet little word. All he could do was flail his hands and giggle like a little girl, fangirling quietly on the floor of his room not wanting to bring his brothers' attention to his silly little display. If they knew what a lovesick mess their big brother was and how easily Y/N could fluster him, the teasing would be merciless.

Lovingly, he eagerly dug in, tugging and pulling at the stubborn object packed tightly into the little box. After a few gentle and ineffective yanks, he gave a strong pull and forced the soft gift free of its tight enclosure, causing him to stumble onto his back in the process. The plush gift decompressed mid-air with an audible POOF and in a bounce, landed on top of the unsuspecting ninja.

"Wh-What the-?!" it took him a minute to focus his eyes on the large, green turtle plush that continued fluffing itself up to its full huggable capacity.

"Raph Jr…?" he snickered and sat himself up once again with the oversized stuffie letting out a squeak as he rested his elbows on its fleece shell.

"You can't sneak up on people like that!" Raph cooed in his baby voice, "Must've been a rough ride being stuffed into that itty bitty box, poor lil' guy. Don't you worry, wittle one, Papa Raph's gotcha now~"

Giving the plush a tight squeeze in his large arms, Raph let himself fall back onto the floor, nuzzling into the cozy warmth of the stuffed animal and slowly started to drift off. Falling deep asleep in a matter of seconds, he hadn't realized the cookies and even smaller box that still sat in the gift box. By far, the plush was more than enough for him now.

[suiana]

❝REPENTANCE❞

― yandere! priest x gn! reader

✎ warnings . . .

― slight nsfw, obsessiveness (?) etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

Raphael Lovell was a man of high morals.

a priest. he was a holy man, never indulging in desires, never giving into temptations. he was the pinnacle of holiness. what every church goer wanted to be.

that is, until he met you.

"can you leave? you shouldn't be here... How'd you even enter anyways?"

he'd ask every single time he saw you. though, it was only normal and to be expected for you were a demon. a demon who had taken a particular interest in the holy man who swore celibacy.

you found him amusing. how he'd never give into you no matter what you did, even if he obviously wanted you... It was alluring. still, you couldn't help but notice the way his pants would tighten, and how his cheeks would flush slightly at your every touch. and was he a virgin? how cute! no wonder he's so sensitive to your every touch!

you chuckle, flaunting your skimpily dressed body as you made your way towards the attractive priest. you couldn't help but notice the way he gulped, the way his eyes flickered away nervously as he tried to put up an annoyed front. you chuckled inwardly. even if he didn't want to admit it, he still fell for your charms. everyone did. you were a charming and beautiful demon after all. you prided yourself on that fact.

"...this is a holy place. please act decently. you are standing in front of the eyes of god."

he sighs out, backing away as he clutches his cross nervously. you smirked, chuckling slightly as you approached him. he always does this. always so cute... your heart simply can't handle it!

"but how am I to act decently when such an adorable thing is standing in front of me, hm?"

you ask, trailing your hand across his robes, finding the amount of clothes unnecessary. wasn't it better to be... naked? that was you'd be able to see everyone's bodies~ how beautiful and unique each and every one of them are! you never understood the need for lots of clothes. but maybe that's because you were a demon.

the priest shivered, gasping as his cheeks flushed a beautiful hue of pink. he stumbled over his words, eyes shaking as he tried to compose himself. oh sweet heavens above... you were such a beautiful demon... so beautiful that it made him want to sin.

dear old Raphael had never felt the touch of a woman, man or anyone for that matter before. his heart and mind was innocent, unknowing of the dangers that a beautiful person could bring about. so when he met you, the most gorgeous person, no, demon, he couldn't stop the way his pants would tighten nor the way his heart would speed up.

it all started as a silly little thing, with him wanting to send you back to hell. but he got attached. too attached. it was a mistake on his part. he should've sent you back the moment he saw you, but he fell for your tricks, getting deceived by your tears when he should've known better that they were nothing more than a way to gain sympathy from the empathetic priest.

you entered his life and ruined it like it was nothing.

before you, he had never thought of wanting to sin. not when he was such a holy priest! it was just wrong! how could he sin? but oh... after meeting you... what if he just gave into his temptations a little? it wouldn't be... so wrong of him now, would it? it's just a small taste of sin! everyone does it once in a while, no?

his mind knew better than to allow you to continue your devilish actions but his heart wanted more. his heart wanted all of you. he wanted to consume you whole, keep you all to himself. and it didn't help that you plagued his dreams all night.

you had taken over his life, and he allowed it. Raphael knew it was wrong. but it felt so damn good. you were a sin he couldn't get enough of. and he would be damned if he stopped now. after all, he can't let you go when you're practically all that he thinks about now, can he?

"foolish demon... you're tempting me in a church?"

he mumbles, glaring at you slightly but not pushing you away as he relishes in your touch. you hum in response to his question, looking up at him with half lidded eyes as you lick his cheek. you wanted to push him, see how far he'd go without breaking. lucky for you he was nearing his limit.

"don't do that... that's sinful."

he groans out, covering his eyes with one hand as his breath grows shaky. you merely giggled at his reaction, enjoying every little shudder and noise he made. it was cute.

you continued carrassing his covered body, nibbling his ear as his breath quickened ever so slightly. his hands made their way to your hips, gripping them harshly as he bites his lower lip to prevent any noises from spilling out. which made you super annoyed as you found his noises far too adorable to be kept away.

you clicked your tongue, nibbling on his neck before biting down lightly. and the priest gasped for air, nails digging into your hips as his eyes widened. he whimpers, eyes growing hazy with lust as he tries to hold himself back from committing any sinful acts. though that proved to be difficult as you continued to skillfully bite and suck on his previously unblemished neck.

"c'mon sin already... give into your desires or something..."

you mumble, smirking as your hands trailed down, fiddling with his belt as your thigh got poked by something hard. Raphael could only watch in lust and horror as his pants dropped to the floor and you cooed at the wet spot on his white boxers.

"hm... it looks like your body likes my touch."

you hummed, chuckling as you looked up at the dark haired male.

"st-stop... we can't- i-i am a priest! I can't do this!"

he whispers, frantically trying to put back his pants. however he stopped as he noticed your annoyed face. oh... oh no! were you annoyed? wait where are you going-?! no, no, no! look back at him! don't walk away!

he whimpers, his hand going for your wrist as he cries and begs for you to stay. to which you responded by saying...

"if you're not gonna fuck me I'm leaving. sorry raphy~"

...which was clearly a taunt that he fell for. Raphael couldn't help the way his heart raced, nor the way his body moved on its own to corner you against one of the walls of the church as he stared into your eyes with a desperate look. he was willing to do anything to make you stay, that much was clear as he muttered his next words.

"...then let me sin with you."

[tmntxthings]

一∑ Navigation・゜・。

【 a b o u t m e 】 — name: grace ｜age: 23 ｜pronouns: she/her sporadic fanfic writer ｜ tmnt enthusiast ｜ semi-editor ｜ hopeless romantic ｜ trying to do her best

Requests? ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ Open ☑️

—————————————————————————

♪ rules *･゜ﾟ↓

1.) This blog is for all tmnt characters/versions, so if you don’t see someone on my masterlist, it means I have yet to write/receive a request for them!

2.) If I have not done your request it could either be because I got super busy with real life, or I did not have enough inspiration/motivation. If you absolutely want me to write something specific pm me and we can talk it through

3.) I do not write nsfw content for underage characters.

4.) writing gender neutral has just become easiest for me but if you specify fem/male reader i can try!

【 l i n k s 】

☆ fic recommendations *･゜ﾟ

【 m a s t e r l i s t s 】 ↓

rottmnt — [full] includes headcanons/oneshots/series/drabbles for all the boys + some april & casey (last updated 2/27/24)

more rottmnt — each post is only allowed 100 links, the first masterlist is full so here is a second one! (last updated 11/14/24)

tmnt 2k12 — includes headcanons/oneshots for the boys (last updated 2/22/24)

—————————————————————————

【 f a n f a v o r i t e s 】

turtle taps >\\\\\<

(in which the turtle-y instincts kick in) fandom → rottmnt

love potion series <3

(in which the boys & their readers deal with the effects of a love potion) fandom → rottmnt

—————————————————————————

【 r e c e n t l y w r i t t e n 】

from the start

(in which leo tells you all about his newest crush but you’re not really listening) fandom → rottmnt

[dancingdonatello]

Hello, I hope your day was great!! If you are still taking requests then can I request a ROTTMNT(seperate) x gn!reader who is really good at fighting? Like the reader would beat villains pretty easily and occasionally trains with the turtles. Thank you<33

rottmnt x gn reader

Raph is absolutely obsessed with you. He will stop in the middle of a fight just to watch you take someone down. He has been broken out of this trance many times by getting punched in the face.

Even though he has witnessed you take down many enemies, he still worries about you. He can’t help but hover around you during a fight.

He loves to train with you though. Sometimes he holds you a little longer and a little bit too much like a hug to where you get suspicious though.

Leonardo loves to train with you. He uses it as a way to show off how good his moves are. However if you win during a spar, he gets a little pouty.

Throws you into battle and definitely uses you to pull off some flashier moves. He uses you as bait most of the time since you look a little more defenseless compared to a ninja turtle.

Claims all your fighting moves as ‘his’ though. Just punch him and he’ll stop.

Donatello definitely uses you as a guard if he has to hack into something. He prefers your face over his brothers’ so he usually drags you around on smaller missions / fights.

He doesn’t really train with you though. But sometimes he’ll throw wrenches and screws at you to see if you’re aware of your surroundings enough to dodge.

Michelangelo loves fighting with you. He doesn’t have to worry about you since you’re so good so he has a lot of fun with you.

He also loves to train with you. The only way to get him to train is if you’re also training that day. He will immediately partner up with you and claim you as his official training partner.

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

NSFW Grind On Me

18+ content - Minors DNI

Bayverse Raph One-Shot

Listen to buy u a drank by t-pain to set the mood haha

all turts are in their 30s, mentions alcohol

It was game night at the lair, which had turned into having a few drinks and some fun, clumsy dancing with your four mutant turtle friends. You loved how easy it was to let go and have a good time with them, enjoying the slow buzz of the alcohol thrumming through your body as you twirled around to Mikey's favorite playlist.

The guys were feeling the buzz too, and as each new song would come on a different turtle would grab you by the hand and steal you for a dance. The smile plastered on your face was permanent as you swayed and laughed with Leo and Donnie, who were both more interested in singing along to the tracks than dancing.

Mikey was thoroughly enjoying your squeals when it was his turn, flipping you around and twirling you like he was on Dancing With The Stars to a chorus of "oohs" and "ahhs" from his brothers. Mike was such a great dancer, you were almost sad when his song had ended, but you were also sweating like crazy and needed a break. He let you up from the dip over his knee, and you patted him on the shoulder with a smile.

As you sauntered back to the game table and took another drink of your tequila pineapple, you grinned to yourself as Mikey bragged to Leo and Donnie about your moves. You were a great dancer, and you knew it.

As the next track came on, a familiar sound came over the stereo. You loved this song.

"Hey."

You turned around and were face to face with an oh-so familiar wall of green muscle and red accents. Raph smirked down at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and nodded slowly back at him, and let him lead you back to where he had been standing near the impromptu "dance floor". The song had kicked into full gear now, and as the lyrics played over the speakers he twirled you into his chest, his leg coming to rest in-between yours and his hand resting low on your hips.

I know the club close at three What's the chances of you rollin' with me? Back to the crib, show you how I live Let's get drunk, forget what we did

Your skin was buzzing with excitement as you danced together, deliciously close. Raph was surprisingly light on his feet, moving you around the dance floor swiftly but keeping you close to him all the while. As the song went on he spun you out with a flick of his wrist, but brought you back in so your back was to his plastron, his hands catching you at your hips.

Let's get gone, walk it out Just like that, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout We gon' have fun, you gon' see On that Patrón you should get like me

You could feel his hips gently grind against you in time to the beat, sending shivers up your spine. You ground back against him, leaning back into his plastron and rubbing your ass into him. His breath hitched at the contact.

We in the bed like, ooh, ooh, ooh We in the bed like, ooh, ooh, ooh

You reached a hand up as the music enraptured the two of you, grazing over the skin of his neck and twisting your fingers in his mask tails. Raph released his grip of your hips and let his hands roam over your body as if burning it to his memory.

As he continued his sinful grind to the beat, he lifted your other arm up to his neck and lightly scrubbed his lips over the skin of your bicep as he huskily sang along.

I'm checking your body language, I love the conversation And when you lick your lips I get a tingling sensation Now were both 'bout tipsy, you say you in the mood All I need is 'bout a hour, better yet maybe two

You could feel the heat settling in your core as you felt his breath on your skin, the way his luscious lips grazed the delicate spot on your arm had a breathy whine escaping your lungs before you could think twice about it. He smiled into your arm, and turned his head to graze the shell of your ear with his pout as he continued singing quietly along, just for you.

We in the bed like, ooh, ooh, ooh We in the bed like, ooh, ooh, whoa

You bit your lip to keep from mewling in front of his brothers. You couldn't believe this was finally happening, after years of pining for Raphael he was finally making a move. And holy shit, was this a move.

As you kept swaying your hips together, trying to not melt into a complete puddle on the dance floor, Raph let his canine scrape over your ear and you lost all semblance of composure.

A sudden, needy moan tumbled from your lips, and Raphael tensed behind you. You closed your eyes in embarrassment, sure that his brothers had heard you. But before you could think about anything else, Raph stepped in front of you, taking your face in his hands.

He leaned in, hesitant now, and gently kissed you, placing the sweetest of kisses on your rosy pout. His lips were softer than you had imagined, but still firm enough to be addictive. As he pulled away you licked your lips, eyes pleading him for more. He watched your tongue swipe over your bottom lip, and you saw your own hunger reflected back at you. He cleared his throat nervously.

"My room?"

"Yes please."

With a smirk, he nodded at you and lifted you up into his arms, your legs straddling his core and his hands under your ass as he carried you off.

The turtles looked at each other as Raph's bedroom door closed shut.

"Well it's about time, am I right guys?!" Mikey joked, putting his hand up for a high-three from his brothers. A chorus of groans were covered by the next song coming over the speakers.

[seraphimaa]

Baptised and Born Anew

Raphael x Tav/Reader Haarlep is there too! But nobody ever lets him have any fun

Tav has committed the ultimate sin in Raphael’s eyes. She has betrayed his trust. He will do what he needs to forgive her.

Warnings: gore, eye gore, torture, non con, this is gross, death, resurrection, sadism, sucky sucky, Raphael does love you in his own demented way if that makes it better, far too much religious symbolism and in all the worst ways, authors religious trauma is showing, DDDNE

She couldn’t breathe. She was sinking. Perhaps she was willing to let go then. God above, everything ached. Memories fleeted at the edges of her mind. The Hammer. Hope. Raphael. Was this death? It was actually kind of peaceful. She was so close to Him now, so close to His sweet salvation. She felt number than she had a moment ago. Was this His mercy? Was it His hand reaching for her from above?

Something snatched her hair and the momentary peace is shattered as she was wrenched, spluttering above the surface.

“YOU RAT!”

She was a room, wet and shivering. In a pool? Raphael’s pool. In his house. She was there. And that’s where he was too. Tav had seen anger in many forms, seen the rage of many men at their end, but this…This was ineffable. His face was twisted past what she imagined it could be. He stood waist deep in the water, panting and seething and whatever he roared next was muffled as he plunged her back below the surface, hard. She would have been unconscious after her head clattered against the tiling, if it weren’t for the constant, cool healing seeping into the pores of her skin. After what felt like an eternity, he wrenched her up again. Her nose was twisted at an angle and she had a few less teeth than she should have. She barely had time to gasp a breath before he sent her under.

She didn’t know how long he kept at it. He’d set a furious pace, slamming her head under and out of the water again and again. Between the furious splashing and her own choking and gasping she could hear that he was hadn’t stopped his passionate sermon.

Up.

“HOW DARE-“

Under.

Up.

“AFTER EVERYTH-“

Under.

Up.

“WISH TOU WERE DEA-“

Under.

Up.

“DEGENERATE REPROBA-“

Under.

Up.

“YOUR PURGATORY-“

Under.

Up.

“FOREVERMORE-“

Under.

The thought that this was how she would go - lungs bursting, and the inertia oh his movements she tipped her into insanity and she emptied her stomach of its bile. The hand left her head and she pushed off of the bottom of the pool and surged for the lip, scrambling onto the marble. She rolled into her back, panting and delirious. Maybe if she ran for the balcony she could end it quickly. She would take the grace of purgatory, anything but this. She steeled herself, ready to take this one last shot at mercy and snapped her eyes open only to shriek in horror.

Raphael’s face was but an inch from hers, wearing an insidious, by playful, smile. It was sinister and the sudden 180 had her head spinning.She wished she could have sunk down and be swallowed by the floor helping to trap her.

“Oh. hello again, little mouse.” The purring cadence let her answer her first question. “It seems you’ve been all but caught in a pair of very big bad claws. How very sad.” He could at least pretend to look sincere, tail wagging with excitement and beady eyes glowing with mischief in the dark. “You have managed to make the master unusually…irate. I think now would be a good time to remind you that I made you such a generous offer before. One, I believe, you may soon regret declining. Was it worth it, mouse? Was your faith worth all that pleasure you denied yourself? Wounded yourself with? I could smell your suffering.” But if this was Haarlep, there’s where was…

She shrieked again as Haarlep was yanked away and her view was replaced by Raphael’s dark visage. The shadows and wrinkles cast his face demonically in the soft glow. He’d stripped off his soggy clothes and she could see every muscle in his body was pulled taught and quivering, like a tight strung bow - he was ready to snap. He tackled her as she lunged to the open fluttering curtains and threw himself on top, shuffling his knees until all she could see was him. A clawed hard snatched for her face, gouging deep into her cheek as she threw her head wildly to either side, braying in terror. He wrestled her with ease and pried her jaw open so wide that her bones creaked in protest.

“I’m warning you right now, you vile beast. If you bite me, I’ll remove your remaining teeth one by one.” All at once her mouth was filled with his fat member, the shock of it almost flipping her tongue backwards. Even soft, it filled her throat and blocked off her air. Little ridges and texturing scraped at her mouth as he forced it into her gasping mouth.

He let out a puff as he began to harden.

“You know what you are, Tav?” She doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything.

“You are a Judas.”

She gagged as his cock kept growing inside of her. She really did regret it. Every movement from the incubus would have been designed to bring her pleasure and disarm any uncertainty, filling her with the sweet lies of love and worship. This was not that. This was penance. He was going to make this as unpleasant as he could, she knew it. Her throat burned raw as he thrust deep and methodical into her, his cock slippery with the drooling blood that filled her mouth and puddled the floor.

“A Brutus.”

Her eyes blinked back to the balcony and she shuddered prone as she met glowing cat irises in the dark, to her side. Haarlep was bent to the floor, ass up and tail flickering. He looked agitated.

“Master, can I come play too?” His whining was ignored by the fiend. “Master, please? I helped you catch this one.” Raphael sneered even deeper and pinched fingers over her nostrils, causing her to thrash like a fish under his weight as he bottomed out in her wrenched, vile mouth. “If I can’t join can I at least hold her for you, master? I’m hungry.” The cambion hissed and took a moment to collect himself, less even more of his toys end up broken tonight.

“Harlot. If I hear one more sound from you before this night is through, I swear I will personally drag you down to the deepest layers of the Abyss and shove you back under whatever cursed rock you sprouted legs and crawled up from under. Am I making myself perfectly clear.” By the time his focus returned to the cretin, she had turned blue, eyes streaming and snot smeared down her chin.

Vile. Disgusting.

He let go of her airway and rose to his feet. A few kicks and he had rolled her back into the crystalline water.

“You, Tav, my dear. You are a little fucking ephialtes.” She’s pulled up and hard against his naked body, as he crouched over her like a predator. “The snake that collapses the empire.” He hissed like a snake into her ear.

“I tried to be so kind. I tried to give you everything but, you, my sweet, are so cruel. A beast of burden who can only reach salvation through a God of the same nature. If my generosity won’t cure you of your moral folly perhaps my cruelty will be more convincing.”

He’s pushed her down to kneel in the water, kneeling with her like a holy man.

“I will cleave your soul from body until I have purified it of your putrid sin. As many times as it takes. I have to forgive you, Tav. I must. By my hand your eyes will see anew. You mind will be reformed. You will come back to me pure. You will step into my kingdom in a state befitting my forgiveness. By my unholy baptism, you will be reborn.”

His cock bobbed in front of her trembling lips and he wrapped his claws around her head and drove his hips forward. She filled her lungs as quickly as she could, but it stuttered in her chest then left in her a shriek as it veered up and sank deep into the socket of her eye. He hissed as the pupil popped and squelched around his tip. The girl stiffened like a cadaver under him, her face hung slack at the mercy of shock. He took advantage of her dissociative compliance and thrust deeper into the resisting flesh, feeling the delicate bone of her socket snap and pop to accommodate him.

With each determined thrust, he carved a sheath for himself into the alien flesh of her brain. The temple that housed her, defiled and smited. His phallus carving away the spoiled meat that festered deep in her liar’s chair. She babbled and slurred incoherently under him, almost like a prayer. When he bludgeoned his way into the bone cradle at the seat of her skull, she jerked once then slackened in his grip. Not slowing his pace, he leaned and dunked her fully into the water, watching it bloom like cherry wine. It rushed to fill the sunken gape, and with each thrust of his hips, more of the water, healing and holy, took hold and grew her anew around him. He cock became sheathed in new flesh, pure and untouched. He ruined that too. He wasn’t done yet. Her lips moved in murmur against his watery thighs, tickling the flesh. He cared not for her gurgling and ranting.

It burned. It seared, then she didn’t felt anything at all - other than cold. She was freezing. She blinked around the room, her one working eye capturing only blurred smears of red and blue and then, all it once it snapped to black. She wasn’t sure is she was howling and keening like a dog or if her ears were just ringing. The dull thud thud thud of her heart was the only thing she could understand in the chaos.

The water bathing her soaked the edges of the incomprehensible agony enough for her to experience it fully. She kept repeating the only words she could find.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

She doesn’t know why or for who. Everything was ringing, and bells, and electricity, and ice and strange grunting animals then nothing. All at once like the rush of a cataclysmic orgasm, everything stops and nothing had ever felt so good. This was her rapture.

He shuddered, grunting as he emptied himself deep into the cavern of her skull. He dropped her into the pool and collapsed back with a mighty splash. He sucked in breaths like he was drowning with her, bobbing face down in that murky drink too. Her curls danced and swam around her, circling her christened skull like a halo. Lumps of her pale heathen flesh bobbed like petals. His sacrament was complete.

“Are you finished? Can I have a turn now? You didn’t even use the good holes.” With a snap of his fingers, the harlot was banished.

He waded through the water towards her, much like he had before. His face, however, was filled this time with nothing but rapt reverence. She would awaken soon and he wanted to be ready.

His queen, most sacred, willing to live and die for her sins - for him. She will live again in his kingdom come. With her holy spirit she will bring life to son, just as she had brought life to father before. Never to stray from his path. His holiest of vessels.

A/N: you did it! Yippee! I honestly can’t apologise enough for this degenerate filth but maybe you’re just as fucked as me if you made it this far lol. I want to write a long fic but thought I’d test my hand at some short snippets of scenes I envision in it. Idk what it is about Raphael that sets my religious trauma snarling and feral.

Almost entirely inspired by the lyrics to Raphael by CocoRosie.

“Raphael you know just how

To take me in the swimming pool

Like a child being baptised.

Beneath the starry skies

Drowning in your watery thighs

Don’t speak I can hear you.

Don’t speak I can hear you.”

[moxfirefly]

Please please please with a cherry on top! I am in NEED of a thigh fuck with Raph xFemReader. I’ve had this scene stuck in my head of Raph and his girl making out and she’s finally had enough of him pushing her away when she’s about to bust so she straddles him on the lair couch. They’ve only made out with some semi-heavy petting before he pulls away and gets all “tough” and tries to change the subject. She’s a needy woman and she needs some attention and validation or at least an explanation as to why he’s so hesitant. She doesn’t get it because she’s been after him forever & now that she has him she’s not about to let him go. This could be completely filthy ❤️‍🔥 I just need my big boy to come undone (pun intended) No pressure but I just love your writing & have been going through and rereading all of your amazing stories! — Much love, Phera

Ngl this has been festering my noggin for a while because I’ve been in a big Raph mood lately. I hope you don’t mind but this is a combination of something I’ve been working on with like a portion of your request into it but I think you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Raphael always found the word “obsessed” to be a tad too exaggerated.

Whenever Donnie said he was obsessed with some new tech thing, or Mikey was obsessed with a new song, or even Leo was obsessed with some new form of meditation.

Obsessed sounded too big of an adjective to explain it.

Raph didn’t consider himself obsessed with his workouts or even knitting. He liked them sure, maybe even loved them because they brought some semblance of balance to an already complicated brain. But obsessed felt too outrageous of a word.

That all went to hell the second his eyes had landed on yours. Because suddenly the word began to ring out loudly in his brain in blood red caution style letters. Something chemically switched in his brain the very moment you had spoken. He felt sweaty, clammy and downright sick to his stomach.

How many hours in the day could somebody think about another person?

He felt like his ass was going numb from sitting on the bench thing long contemplating this situation. He’d only done one rep of his bench presses when he had to sit up and breathe and quiet his mind.

You were April’s friend, her latest and most stable roommate and somehow the idea of mutants in the sewers had been easier to swallow than he could ever hope for in human reactions.

He felt pathetic, a little dirty but overall weightless whenever you were near by. You’d stepped in several times to help whenever April simply couldn’t. You’d come down with groceries, hand me downs and all sorts of necessities simply because you wanted to help. Raph wasn’t some inconsiderate chump though, he was thankful, he’d (somehow) engaged in his fair share of small talk with you.

And sure your eyes had lit up with him.

Sure there were moments he wanted to do a double take because he swore your eyes had lingered on him.

Pesky pesky pesky ‘ifs’.

Quite often the sensation of your eyes lingering on him had taken him to places he hardly entertained. He didn’t want to place you in that box, that ‘potential’ box where he wondered what a normal life could feel like. He much less wanted to stuff you in the other box.

The one where when he slept and saw nothing but your eyes and mouth and hands all over him. The one where when he woke up and felt like a fever was burning him in the very pits of hell, all because he swore he heard you moan out for him. How many ruined sheets carried your name. How many showers he’s tried to burn you off of him only to simply get off to the idea of your skin against his own.

God he was obsessed wasn’t he?

The hypocrisy alone wouldn’t mortify him.

What would kill him is if you suddenly developed mind reading powers and saw one third of his thoughts on you.

From the fruity gushy romantic ones.

To the filthy debauched images he painted daily ones.

He felt sick again.

Sicker the second you walked in the shorts you wore when summer was approaching.

You had a scar on your knee cap he wanted to taste. He saw how skin spread when you sat down, the plushness, the softest of chubbiness that had him thinking how divine it would be to wake up to those thighs crushing his face. A tremble in his hand urged him to lay a palm on your thigh, just to touch, just to get a taste of human flesh against his calloused scales. Raph wanted nothing more than to feel you sit on his lap and ask him if he could be a good boy for you and-

“Yo bro if you ain’t taking a plate I’m eating it” When had Mikey gotten in front him and why was food being shoved into his face?

Oh, right, you brought dinner tonight.

He had mumbled a grunt of an apology and had poured the rest of his energy into eating.

Unbeknownst to him, you had felt that shift that could only be described as the earth shaking. Raphael wasn’t necessarily subtle, sure he’s gotten away with it a few times but there’s no way he expected you to not notice his eyes burning a hole through your thigh as you sat next to him.

And who said you couldn’t be a little cruel in your endeavors of letting him get the fucking hint that you wanted him too?

So when you had finished eating and Casey and Donnie had started up one of their heated debates, you had placed a hand on his knee to push yourself up from the couch.

You had dug just a little bit of nail.

You had let your palm slide on your way up.

If Raph could implode he would’ve.

If he could set himself on fire he would’ve lit a match by now.

That had messed him up for days. He had rutted against his pillow three nights in a row and none of it had been enough to silence the voice, the itch of his skin.

All it had done was open his eyes a little wider, to watch you like a damn hawk.

And he began to notice things. Notice the little games you played with him.

From the way you crossed your legs when his green eyes landed on you. To the way your smile felt just mischievous enough to let him know he had been had.

You knew.

God, could you read his thoughts?

He had been tasked one evening to walk you to the exit of the Lair. It wasn’t too late, but work and deadlines were impeding you from torturing him longer this evening. He had quietly gotten you to the latter that led closest to your place.

“Ya let us know when ya make it home safe” Came that gruff voice of his, that almost constipated pit nesting in his stomach. Just before your hands could grip the ladder, you had gripped the length of the white cloth that adorned his shorts. You twirled the fabric, gentle twists and a knowing smile that made him hold his breath.

“And you let me know the next time you’re thinking of me at night. I think we’re past this little game.” You didn’t give him a second to recover let alone form a coherent sentence before you were up the ladder and gone.

Raphael looked up, the beam of light as the cover was opened to allow you out into the buzzing city. It felt too much of a spotlight highlighting his desires. You watched him down below, the shadows hiding just enough but not the stunned hungry look. If he were a religious man, he could say that you looked like a god, above him all knowing and with the power to turn him into ash.

And how he wanted to fall to his knees and pray in between your legs.

He hadn’t slept that night.

He had watched the ceiling of his and Mikey’s shared room and contemplated your words. He turned them over and over, examined every vowel and consonant. He tasted the sounds in his mouth. Your haughty smile as the wind blew a few strands of hair.

He lasted a week.

Seven days of self loathing.

A hundred and sixty eight hours of working up the courage.

Ten thousand and eighty minutes of wanting to even the playing field.

So on that last day, last hour, last minute, he had snuck out after patrol and a shower and headed to your apartment. He had climbed up the fire escape with every intention of telling you how evil you were for making him so obsessed.

His simply texted,

‘Window.’

His tried to mask a neutral face as you pulled back the curtains and found him crouched there.

The second you smiled though…

He had lost.

You lifted the window open and rested your hands on the windowsill.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of me?” Your words stabbed him, and he loved it.

He wanted to snarl, wanted to show you that this was stupid of you to even consider. So when he moved forward, brought his face close to yours, you didn’t flinch.

“Don’t be such a coward and show me what kept you up this late?” Your warm breath caressed his scarred lips.

Raph blinked, taken aback on how easily you had taken hold of him. When your hand reached up, knuckles caressing his jaw before they rested on the lip of his plastron, he closed the distance with an innocent kiss. A pressing of lips that froze him against your mouth. He felt that hand run up his neck, a scratch of your nails bringing some life back to him as your lips moved against his own.

Just as his mouth began to catch up, to lose itself against the wetness of your tongue you had backed up into the room and beckoned him inside the living room.

And like a trained pet he slid inside and felt smaller than he had ever imagined he could.

And god, he loved it.

He let you lead him to the couch, watched obsessively as you straddled his lap and kissed him with every intention of devouring all the secrets he possessed inside of him. He can’t and won’t be able to forget the sensation of your hands grabbing his own and letting them hover over your chest.

“Do you want me? Do you want to keep doing this?” You had asked cautiously, adamant in letting him know this could stop the second he felt it needed to. It took every power in him to not yell out a resounding and firm ‘yes’.

“Good, that’s a good boy” And fuck his dick twitched and almost came undone right then and there. He felt his hands cup your breast, the soft tender flesh from above your sleep shirt, just as you rolled your hips against his painfully hard erection.

Between the kisses he groaned out a desire.

“Wanna feel more of ya, can I?” He whispered it against the corner of your mouth as desperate as he ever could.

Your reply came in the simple gesture of lifting your shirt and your reward came in the form of hungry eyes and lips finding your breasts.

He was gutted, how could something this beautiful also be perfect and soft and right now against his lips?

Raph felt your hand on the back of his head and the quiet little yelp as he bit down gently on your nipple almost be his second undoing of the night. He kissed the perked bud, wrapped his tongue around it and savored the texture, the taste, the way that with each suction you grew needier and wetter.

He could feel you so perfectly through the fabric of your underwear just gush against his clothed crotch. His hands held your waist as he devoured your other breast and delighted ‘ha!’ escaped your lips when he his bit down just a little harder than before. Raph’s eyes looked up, the flush pink of your neck, the sweat starting to form.

The two of you still needed to be quiet, you weren’t alone after all.

And this was simply still a taste of things to come.

“I want you, so fucking bad, but not here, not like this” You kissed it up his neck, felt those big hands grip your rear. His eyes held confusion and a stupor that could only mean he was drunk off of this.

“We’re gonna be a little creative and very very quiet” Your hands rested on his shoulders, to which allowed yourself the luxury of a good firm squeeze to the muscle. God he was a fucking sight to behold.

With a remorseful push you got up on wobbly legs and slid your underwear down and off. He had followed the path, mesmerized and hungry. Just to tease, just to be the cruel god you could be, you rubbed along your folds, gathered slick and offered up to his willing and devout lips. He sucked greedily, loved the way you slowly pulled out the digits from his mouth.

Next to his spot you climbed on the couch and rested against the backrest and urged him closer. “Y/n I um, I’m too big-“ And he wanted to cringe at the admission that there was no way this could happen like this without some lube and patience.

“Thighs, use my thighs Raphie” That stupid name sounded like salvation when spoken in your voice. Nervously but ever so in need he settled behind you, pushed his shorts past his hips and saw the mess he had become due to you, much like he did on nights.

His hands ran up the globes of your cheeks and found your waist. He slid himself between the thighs he had dreamt off for far too long and just as he hoped, they felt better than he could ever imagine. “Oh-fuck…” Was his breathless response to the first slide, your thighs locked up as tight as they could be. The move allowed his cock to perfectly slide along your core, rub against your clit and you tighten your lips in a muffled moan.

The next thrust wasn’t as gentle, as slow. But enough to have his navel slap against your rear in that all to familiar lewd slap he often heard in ‘videos.’

He fell slightly forward, massive arms wrapped around your stomach and lips at the top of your head. “God, Y/n, fucking wanted this” He grunted against the crown of your head. “Me too baby, me too” You braced yourself better, if he was like this…

The thought alone made your toes curl as he began to thrust, building a rhythm that had the two of you on the brink of screwing up and moaning louder than allowed. A hand clasped down on your breast as the couch began to protest with the force of his movements.

“Come on Raphie, just like you dreamt of, do just like you’ve always wanted to” You turned your head, did your best to catch a glimpse of his debauched features as he thrusted faster, that squelching sound combined with your moans making him lose control.

“Shit-I’m gonna…” He buried his face against the back of your neck.

“Do it, do it for me, make a mess” Your own undoing so close you could taste it.

It’s a gut punch, it’s like a bomb going off in his chest and stomach all at once. It’s the hardest he has ever cum, and he’s clutching you and not a pillow for once. He can feel it mix in with your own release, feel it drip down against your thighs and shot against the couch. He feels you slap against him as you ride your own wave whilst biting down on your forearm.

He feels dizzy, tired and drained.

He feels you against him. Sticky and sweaty and panting.

He feels so fucking obsessed.

He feels so fucking obsessed.

[masonmontz]

Amo sua escrita. Queria pedir um hot do Piquerez onde ele e uma mulher que ele ama foram fazer um favor pra alguém e ficam presos na estrada porque está chovendo muito e vão tem que parar pra dormir no motel. Ela não quer se entregar pra ele por ele ser festeiro, puteiro etc, mas ele real gosta dela. Tudo começa a desenrolar e então ele faz oral nela, ela é mt inexperiente e tb virgem mas resolve deixar se entregar pra ele. Se puder fazer o pós sexo tb🥹 realiza meu sonho autora

NOTAS: quatro dias pra escrever isso tudo, socorro!!! é um pedido especial e espero que a pessoa que pediu goste (mesmo eu tendo feito algumas alterações do pedido), assim como vocês xx

avisos: desenvolvimento + hot

PARTE 2

— Eu me sinto mal quando não posso te ajudar — você fala enquanto coloca as mãos no ombro de Joaquin, que apenas dá um sorriso triste e dá de ombros. — Sinto muito pelo jogo. 

— Está tudo bien — ele fala, mas você sabe que por dentro ele está se sentindo péssimo. Nem todos os dias são bons e infelizmente, dessa vez, ele perdeu um pênalti, sendo motivo de diversos xingamentos nas redes sociais do time. Mesmo falando diversas vezes para ignorar os comentários nas publicações, você sabia que de tempos em tempos ele abria algo para ler o que a torcida estava falando dele e ele se sentia extremamente culpado pela derrota do dia anterior. 

— O time jogou mal, Pique, não é culpa sua — Gomez fala e você concorda, sentando novamente ao lado de Joaquin. 

Gomez convidou para um churrasco mais íntimo na casa dele a noite e você foi, sabendo que Joaquin provavelmente também iria. Você acabou virando amiga de Jazmin há algum tempo quando começou a frequentar a mesma academia que ela e, aos poucos, você foi se tornando importante para ela a ponto de começar a participar de alguns eventos, automaticamente, isso te fez conhecer alguns dos jogadores. 

Entre Veiga, Flaco, Luan, Mayke e Piquerez, sem dúvidas o último foi o que você mais se aproximou e criou uma verdadeira amizade durante esse um pouco mais de um ano de contato, entretanto, você sempre notou que ele tinha segundas intenções, mas também sempre deixou claro que não haveria nada além da amizade entre vocês dois. 

Joaquin, por outro lado, encontrou em você a amizade que ele precisava, ainda mais por se sentir sozinho na maioria dos dias. Quando sentia falta da família e dos amigos do Uruguai, ele corria para você, em quem ele encontrou um ombro que ajudava ele em momentos difíceis, mas também apenas alguém que ele confiava e sabia que podia contar para qualquer coisa. 

— Você precisa parar de se culpar tanto assim — você fala, aceitando o bombom que Pia entrega e deixando um beijo na bochecha dela, que logo em seguida corre novamente para o quarto. — Você mais do que ninguém sabe que o time tem dias bons e ruins, não deixa isso te consumir por dentro. 

Joaquin poderia demonstrar várias coisas para os outros, mas para você ele não conseguia esconder nada do que realmente era. A maioria das pessoas via ele como brincalhão, baladeiro, mulherengo e desapegado tanto das obrigações do time quanto das pessoas. Talvez ele realmente era baladeiro e mulherengo, porém, Joaquin também era carinhoso, atencioso e mais do que nunca, preocupado com cada passo que dava em relação ao time, ao seu desempenho, as obrigações, apenas não demonstrava isso para muitas pessoas, mas você teve a sorte de ser a pessoa a quem ele depositou a confiança e já conhecia muito dele. 

— Papa no fez gol — Lucca fala enquanto ergue os braços para o pai, querendo colo. Gustavo pega ele e apesar de tudo, dá risada do que o filho fala. 

— É, papa no fez gol para você — ele responde, fazendo cócegas na barriga do filho, que apenas ri, logo sendo colocado no chão de novo. 

— Acho que está na minha hora — você diz enquanto levanta da cadeira, sendo seguida por Joaquin, que também avisa que vai para casa. Vocês dois se despedem de Jazmin e Gustavo, agradecendo pela janta e logo em seguida saindo pela porta, andando em direção ao elevador. 

— Eu te levo — Joaquin fala assim que nota você abrir o aplicativo do Uber, bisbilhotando seu celular por cima dos ombros. 

— Não precisa — você responde, mesmo sabendo que ele vai fazer de tudo para te convencer a aceitar a carona. — Logo um Uber chega. 

— S/N, não vou te deixar sozinha por aí essa hora — ele responde. Joaquin precisa apenas descer dois andares até estar em casa, ao contrário de você, que precisa de uma viagem de carro de pelo menos quinze minutos até estar no aconchego do seu apartamento. 

— Não tenho como recusar, não é? 

— Não mesmo.

Poucos minutos depois você já está dentro do carro dele enquanto ele dirigia devagar pela cidade, já tendo decorado o caminho até o seu apartamento de tantas vezes que te levou para casa após alguma mini festa de alguém do time ou após uma noite de balada com ele e outros amigos que vocês tinham em comum, pois sempre preferia ir de Uber e tomar ao menos um drink ao invés de beber e dirigir. 

— Você ainda vai viajar com nós, né? — Joaquin pergunta. 

— Acho que sim, Jaz ficou de me avisar se a viagem vai dar certo. 

— Claro que vai, todo o pessoal já confirmou. 

— Eu sei, Joaquin, mas me sinto uma intrusa no meio de todos vocês — você fala. — Eu não sou parte do time.

— Você é minha amiga e amiga de várias pessoas, todos te querem lá. 

— Vou pensar.

Joaquin dá um sorriso de canto e você não consegue segurar o próprio sorriso, sabendo que mesmo se tivesse dúvidas sobre a viagem que eles estavam programando para os dias de folga, ele ou Jazmin acabariam te convencendo a ir. Até Pia ou Lucca conseguiriam te convencer de participar dos dois dias de folga. Por sorte, você também tinha um trabalho flexível o suficiente para se ausentar durante a semana.

Assim que ele estaciona na frente do seu prédio, após longos minutos conversando sobre assuntos aleatórios no carro, você recolhe sua bolsa para poder sair do carro. 

— S/N, você pode ir comigo para a viagem, se quiser — ele fala e você consegue notar perfeitamente o tom envergonhado dele. — Eu sou o único que vou sozinho e você não precisa ir dirigindo.

— A Jazmin me chamou para ir com ela, mas acho que aceito a sua carona — Você responde. — De qualquer forma, meu carro ainda está na mecânica. Você vai na segunda a tarde?

— Eu pensei em ir à noite, tenho una entrevista segunda a tarde. 

— Ah, tudo bem — você responde. — Melhor assim, tenho algumas coisas pendentes no escritório também. Obrigada pela carona, Joaquin. 

Você coloca a mão no trinco da porta do carro e abre, mas sente o braço de Joaquin sobre sua mão e fecha a porta novamente. 

— S/N, na verdade eu queria te falar uma coisa — ele fala e coça a nuca, como se não soubesse o que dizer. 

— Pode falar — você incentiva, olhando para ele e guardando o celular na bolsa.

Joaquin suspira e desvia o olhar para o volante, mas em seguida volta a te encarar. 

— Ah, você sabe — ele começa, — eu gosto de você e queria saber se você quer sair comigo algun dia.

— Joaquin, nós já conversamos sobre isso — você fala, sabendo que é um tópico que ele sempre volta desde que se conheceram. 

— Eu sei, S/N, mas você já terminou há mais de um ano e eu sei que você também gosta de mim. 

Joaquin não está errado. Você suspira, sem saber como responder. Não é mentira que você acha ele bonito e com toda certeza ficaria com ele caso ele não fosse quem ele é. E é isso que você sabe que chateia ele. 

O momento que vocês se conheceram talvez não foi o ideal. Você se mudou de apartamento e mudou todo o restante da sua vida, o ciclo de amizades, academia ou supermercado apenas para esquecer absolutamente tudo sobre seu ex. 

Você estava em um relacionamento longo, noiva e com tudo milimetricamente planejado até descobrir uma traição que com certeza te fez entrar no pior momento de toda sua vida. Além de se sentir decepcionada, você ainda começou a se sentir insuficiente em todas as categorias da sua vida. 

E infelizmente, Joaquin ainda é um jogador de futebol. 

E você sabe desde que o conheceu pela primeira vez que ele tem sim interesse e nunca escondeu nem de você e nem dos amigos, mas ele também não deixou em momento algum a vida de balada e cheia de mulheres, mulheres essas que são modelos ou blogueiras e muito, muito mais bonitas que você. 

— Dame una chance — ele fala, se aproximando, enquanto coloca uma mecha do seu cabelo atrás da orelha. Você vira a cabeça, mas Joaquin puxa e se aproxima, colando os lábios no seu. 

No primeiro momento você não reage, sem saber o que fazer pela surpresa. Joaquin coloca a mão no seu rosto, segurando virado para ele, então ele inicia um beijo intenso e que te faz suspirar. 

— Acho melhor não — você diz ainda de olhos fechados, afastando os seus lábios dele e sentindo o seu próprio corpo te trair ao não conseguir se afastar completamente. Joaquin percebe e te puxa mais uma vez, dessa vez levando a mão ao seu rosto para segurar você e a outra ele leva até a sua cintura, deixando leves carinhos com os dedos, mesmo por cima da blusa. 

Apesar de retribuir o beijo, seu cérebro ainda te trai e você não consegue deixar de pensar em todo o tempo que deu diversos tocos nele, apenas pelo medo de passar algo parecido com o que seu ex fez para você. 

Joaquin, ainda te segurando, deixa alguns selinhos sobre seus lábios e logo distribui em direção ao seu pescoço, te fazendo suspirar ao sentir os lábios macios trilhando um caminho por ali. 

— Joaquin, não — você coloca a mão no peito dele, empurrando ele. Dessa vez ele se afasta e olha para você. — Não posso fazer isso. 

— Por que você acha tão errado querer ficar comigo? — ele pergunta, encostando a cabeça no banco. 

Você não responde de início, apenas se ajeita no banco e olha para a sua frente, notando uma pequena movimentação na rua. 

— Você é novo, está no auge da sua carreira e eu tenho certeza que não sou a pessoa que você procura agora — você começa a falar e ele abre os olhos para te encarar. — Além do mais, eu não levo a mesma vida que você. Eu gosto de festa também, mas uma vez ou outra, não toda semana, mas principalmente… 

Você nega com a cabeça e desiste de falar, porém Joaquin ergue as sobrancelhas, querendo entender em qual ponto você estava querendo chegar. 

— Principalmente o que? 

— Eu não quero ser só mais uma mulher que caiu no seu charme e no dia seguinte é jogada para escanteio como se não fosse nada. 

Joaquin abaixa o olhar, como se não discordasse do que você acabou de falar. Talvez ele mesmo saiba a fama que tem, apesar de não ser tudo o que a mídia fala e você conhecer muito mais da personalidade dele. 

Ele não é uma pessoa ruim, nem de longe, mas por enquanto a vida de balada funciona muito mais pra ele do que um relacionamento sério. E sabendo da fama que diversos jogadores têm, a última coisa que você quer é acordar um dia com a notícia de ter sido trocada por outra. 

— Eu sei que a minha fama não é a melhor — ele fala, coçando a garganta, — mas você sabe que não seria só mais uma. 

— Acho melhor nós deixarmos as coisas como estão. 

— Tudo bem, se você prefere assim — ele dá de ombros, como se não se importasse. 

— Obrigada pela carona, Joaco — você fala e dá um sorriso para ele, que retribui, mesmo que pequeno. — Posso ir com você ainda para a viagem, né? 

— Lógico. 

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

— Demorei? — você pergunta assim que vê Joaquin encostado no carro te esperando. Ele mandou uma mensagem poucos minutos atrás avisando que havia chegado, você rapidamente pegou suas coisas e avisou que estava descendo. 

— Não, acabei de chegar — ele responde, pegando a sua mala e colocando no porta-malas da BMW.  Assim que ele fecha, olha para você e você não consegue evitar um sorriso. — Tudo bien? 

Você se aproxima, cumprimentando ele com um beijo na bochecha e notando que ele está com uma roupa mais confortável, sem deixar de estar bonito. Não que ele ficasse feio de alguma forma. Ele usa uma bermuda solta e uma camisa básica que provavelmente custa o preço de um celular, além de tênis nos pés. 

— Tudo bem — você responde. — Apenas um pouco cansada por causa do trabalho. 

Joaquin concorda e vai até a porta do carro, abrindo para você, como sempre costuma fazer. Você dá um sorriso ao passar ao lado dele, sentando logo em seguida, observando ele fechar a porta e andar rapidamente até o lado do motorista. 

— Acho que vai chover — ele fala assim que liga o carro, notando que um relâmpago atravessa o céu. 

— Ótimo — você suspira. — Quando eu consigo me afastar do trabalho e aproveitar dois dias, o universo manda chuva. 

Joaquin apenas dá risada do seu drama, engatando outro assunto com você. Sempre foi assim, é fácil manter um assunto com ele já que ele sempre parece interessado no que você tem a dizer, ou então sempre acrescenta algo do próprio ponto de vista. 

Não é segredo para ninguém que vocês dois se deram bem de cara, inclusive foi algo que Jazmin comentou com você dias após conhecê-lo pela primeira vez. Ainda, Jazmin e Gustavo não fingem que às vezes tentam bancar os casamenteiros, mas a sua relutância em relação a ele sempre falou mais alto. 

A viagem dura cerca de uma hora e meia e Jazmin encaminha uma mensagem avisando que todos eles já estão lá, estão apenas esperando vocês dois. 

Como Joaquin tinha falado, a chuva não demora a cair com menos de vinte minutos de viagem, fazendo ele desacelerar um pouco o carro, já que os pingos grossos atrapalhavam a visão. 

— Será que devemos parar um pouco? — você pergunta, sem conseguir enxergar dois metros a sua frente. 

— Vamos ver se tem alguma coisa mais pra frente, deve ser perigoso parar o carro no meio do nada. 

— Certo, mas vai devagar — você fala se inclinando no banco, tentando enxergar algo além da água, mas nem o limpador do carro consegue dar conta de tirar. 

— Eu já estou indo devagar — ele retruca e você olha para ele, revirando os olhos. — Mais devagar que isso o carro para. 

O GPS do celular mostra que logo em frente há um posto de gasolina, então Joaquin dirige cautelosamente até lá. Assim como vocês dois, outros diversos carros estão parados esperando uma trégua na chuva para continuar, mas não há sinal de que diminuirá tão cedo. Ele estaciona o carro e desliga, empurrando o banco para trás e esticando as pernas.

— Ainda temos mais uma hora de viagem — você fala. — Espero que a chuva diminua. 

Infelizmente, a chuva só parece aumentar e o vento forte do lado de fora faz barulho, bem como os trovões que não param por um minuto. 

— Eu estou com fome — Joaquin fala, tentando olhar para a loja de conveniência do posto pelo vidro do carro. — Você quer algo? 

— Você vai sair nessa chuva? — você pergunta, sabendo que provavelmente ele vai levar um banho. 

— Não é longe — ele responde, se preparando para sair do carro. — Tranca a porta quando eu sair. 

Joaquin abre a porta e corre até a pequena loja enquanto você observa ele do carro. Já estão há dez minutos parados e a viagem que era para durar apenas uma hora e meia, provavelmente levará muito mais. 

Ele volta pouco tempo depois com uma sacola em mãos, correndo mais uma vez para o carro. 

— Caíram algumas árvores no meio da estrada, não sabem quando alguém vai chegar para tirar. 

— Você está falando sério? — você pergunta, sabendo que a chance de ele estar brincando é mínima. 

Ele concorda com a cabeça, te entregando a sacola com algumas coisas que ele comprou. Salgadinho, chocolate e um salgado de frango, além de uma coca. 

— Por isso tem tanto carro aqui parado — ele fala, dando uma mordida no próprio lanche. 

— Que ótimo, passar a noite no carro — você diz, se jogando contra o estofado do carro mais uma vez. 

— Na verdade, o atendente disse que voltando um pouco tem uma pousada, algo assim, se precisar. 

Você não responde. A chuva não para de cair e para ajudar não tem como passar pela estrada por causa das árvores que caíram com o vento, seria um milagre chegar ao destino hoje. 

— O que você acha? — você pergunta para ele. 

— Não vamos conseguir chegar hoje, e eu não quero passar a noite dentro do carro. 

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

Você tenta sem sucesso não fazer careta ao ver o estado do quarto. Joaquin, atrás de você, não está muito diferente. 

— Isso aqui não vale nem cinquenta reais, quem dirá trezentos reais por uma noite — você reclama, jogando a mala no canto do quarto. 

— Tem uma cama, pelo menos — ele responde. Joaquin deixa a mala ao lado da sua e encara o quarto, indo até a janela em seguida para fechar a cortina. 

Após vocês terminarem de comer, voltaram um pouco do caminho para encontrar a pousada que comentaram com ele no posto de combustível. Não foi difícil encontrá-la, já que o letreiro era grande, mesmo com a chuva. 

A forte tempestade fez diversas pessoas pararem para passar a noite e com vocês não foi diferente, entretanto, a pousada pequena já estava praticamente cheia e só havia um quarto restante. Joaquin se ofereceu para dormir no carro, mas ele foi cavalheiro de pagar o valor total da estadia e você não podia deixar ele dormir no carro por mais de oito horas. 

É só colocar um travesseiro entre vocês. 

O lençol da cama parece horrível, a televisão antiga não deve pegar um canal e você está com medo de abrir o pequeno armário no canto do quarto. Não teria como piorar, certo? 

— Você se importa se eu tomar banho primeiro? — você pergunta, dando uma boa olhada no banheiro antes de declarar que estava tudo certo. Joaquin concorda e senta na beirada da cama, mexendo no celular. 

Joaquin já enviou mensagem aos amigos avisando que não teria como vocês dois chegarem hoje, recebendo alguns emojis tristes, exceto de Gomez, que mandou um emoji com olhar de canto que você não pode deixar de rir quando viu. 

Perto das dez horas da noite vocês estão lado a lado assistindo o jornal, a única coisa que funcionou na televisão precária do quarto. E o travesseiro entre vocês dois, deixando uma distância segura.

Joaquin parece tão exausto quanto você, que percebe que às vezes ele fecha os olhos e abre em seguida, como se estivesse lutando contra o sono. Apesar de ser estranho dormir com ele, você se sente mais confortável ao saber que ele está ao seu lado, pois seria muito pior estar em um quarto acabado igual esse sozinha. 

Aos poucos, você se permite relaxar na cama e deixa o celular de lado, puxando o lençol fino e se cobrindo, vendo que Joaquin se endireita na cama do próprio lado. Apesar de ser uma cama de casal, é minúscula, e o travesseiro que você colocou entre vocês ocupa muito espaço, deixando vocês dois em cada beirada e prestes a cair. 

Joaquin da boa noite e se vira de costas, você responde rapidamente e faz o mesmo que ele, o único som entre vocês é o da chuva torrencial que ainda cai do lado de fora, mas faz você cair no sono rapidamente. 

Um trovão alto te faz acordar assustada, se levantando na cama e olhando ao redor. Joaquin acorda com o seu pulo e você olha para ele, tentando voltar à realidade e lembrar do motivo de ele estar ali. Você percebe que o travesseiro entre vocês foi jogado longe e Joaquin está mais perto que o normal, que o aceitável. 

Na verdade, um braço dele está sobre o seu abdômen, como se estivesse abraçando durante o sono. 

— O que foi? — ele pergunta com a voz rouca. 

— O trovão me assustou — você responde, se jogando no colchão mole mais uma vez. Joaquin concorda apenas com um aceno de cabeça e suspira, se aconchegando mais em você. 

Você cogita tirar o braço dele de cima da sua barriga, mas não há nada de errado no gesto, então ignora, tentando pegar no sono mais uma vez. Outro trovão estridente faz as janelas do quarto tremerem e você leva mais um susto, porém, dessa vez, Joaquin aperta o braço dele sobre seu corpo, como uma maneira de tranquilizá-la. 

Você não é a maior fã de tempestades, então depois do segundo susto, você fica em alerta. Joaquin parece notar e inicia leves carinhos no seu braço com a mão. Por estar com sono, não impede ele, porém o que vem a seguir foge um pouco do seu controle. 

Ele se aproxima de você, colando o corpo dele na lateral do seu e colocando o rosto na curva do seu pescoço, te fazendo ficar paralisada ao sentir os lábios dele na sua pele. Você engole seco quando sente ele te apertar mais contra o próprio corpo, colocando a mão que estava sobre a sua barriga na cintura, apertando. 

— Joaquin — você mal consegue falar e ouve apenas um “shhhh” saindo dos lábios dele. Você sente seu coração disparar, sem saber o que fazer com o corpo quente dele tão próximo ao seu. 

Ele deixa um beijo leve no lóbulo da sua orelha, respirando perto e fazendo você se arrepiar com a sensação. 

— Você nunca ficou tão perto de mim assim — ele sussurra no seu ouvido, passando a mão pela lateral do seu corpo, arrastando os dedos lentamente até suas coxas com o shorts curto do pijama. — Dá me só um beijo. 

Você vira um pouco o rosto para o outro lado, tentando reunir forças para afastar ele, mas isso só dá mais espaço para ele atacar o seu pescoço. Ele leva a mão que estava na sua cintura até a lateral do seu rosto, impedindo você de afastar o rosto da boca dele. 

— Acho melhor não — você fala, mais uma vez tentando se afastar dele e ficar longe dos perigos que ele representa, mas sua voz foi tão incerta sobre o que estava pedindo que ele deve ter percebido a hesitação para pedir para ele se afastar. 

— Sólo un beso — ele diz uma última vez, puxando seu rosto em direção ao dele e você não consegue mais evitar, permitindo que ele cole os próprios lábios no seu. 

Joaquin se ergue um pouco do colchão e fica apoiado em um braço enquanto com o outro ainda segura seu rosto. Você permite ele te beijar, um beijo completamente do que vocês trocaram no carro dele, mas igualmente bom. 

Você suspira entre o beijo quando ele leva a mão novamente até sua perna, passando a mão levemente pela coxa e arrastando lentamente para cima, porém, dessa vez, ele leva a mão por dentro da sua blusa do pijama, apertando a pele enquanto fica cada vez mais em cima de você, sem soltar o peso. 

Inconscientemente, você leva a mão até os cabelos dele, puxando ele em sua direção enquanto aprofunda ainda mais o beijo. Ele parece gostar, pois você sente ele dar um leve sorriso entre o beijo antes de se erguer e se encaixar entre as suas pernas. 

Beijar Joaquin Piquerez entrou pro topo de suas coisas favoritas e é apenas o segundo beijo que vocês trocam. 

Você não consegue evitar de passar a mão pelo pescoço e estender os carinhos para as costas dele, ainda coberta pela blusa que ele usou para dormir. Ele interrompe o beijo e você continua de olhos fechados, aproveitando a sensação das mãos dele sobre seu corpo, mas logo sente ele beijar seu pescoço, pressionando o quadril contra você. 

Um suspiro alto que escapa pelos seus lábios parece incentivar ele, que pressiona a própria ereção contra você, sem se afastar dessa vez, fazendo você sentir exatamente o que ele tem para te dar. 

Ele puxa a barra da blusa do seu pijama para cima e coloca um braço sobre as suas costas para você erguer um pouco o tronco, permitindo ele tirar a peça. 

— Linda — ele fala, te admirando enquanto percorre o olhar sobre seus peitos. Ele mesmo tira a própria camiseta e volta a te beijar, você sente o calor do peitoral dele contra você e isso parece virar uma chavinha no seu interior, então você se ergue um pouco na cama para alcançar os lábios dele melhor e de forma mais quente. 

Joaquin leva uma mão até o seu peito, apertando e massageando, te fazendo soltar um gemido baixo entre o beijo. Sem perceber, você coloca as pernas ao redor da cintura dele, deixando ele colado em você enquanto passa a unha pelas costas dele, arranhando levemente. Ele se contorce ao sentir arrepio e você sorri, sabendo que ele gostou, então repete, sentindo ele esfregar o quadril contra a sua virilha incansáveis vezes. 

Ele afasta o rosto do seu e desce os lábios até seu peito, colocando na boca enquanto brinca com os dedos no outro, beliscando ou apertando, mas tudo o que você faz é fechar os olhos e aproveitar a sensação de finalmente ter ele ali. Joaquin também brinca com a boca, mordiscando e chupando a pele, provavelmente fazendo de propósito para deixar marcas ali, mas você não poderia se importar menos. 

— Você é muito linda — ele diz, erguendo a cabeça e te olhando. Você abre os olhos e encara ele, ficando envergonhada por estar tão exposta a ele, mas quando ele percebe, não deixa você criar ideias na cabeça. Ele tira suas pernas da cintura dele, afastando o quadril poucos centímetros do seu e leva uma mão até sua virilha, acariciando por cima do tecido e observando cada mínima reação sua ao toque dele. 

Você morde os lábios e suspira ao sentir o toque dos dedos dele e, por alguns segundos, tudo some da sua mente e a única coisa que você pensa é nele. Ser tocada por ele, beijada, admirada. Ele mais uma vez volta para o seu pescoço enquanto afasta o shorts do pijama apenas para o lado, deixando os dedos dele te acariciando por cima da calcinha, exatamente no ponto onde você mais queria. O toque te faz gemer e ele leva como incentivo, pois continua acariciando seu clitóris por cima do tecido, dessa vez você não consegue evitar e abre mais as próprias pernas, querendo que ele te toque mais. 

Você procura pelos lábios dele, virando a cabeça na direção dele e ele volta a beijar seu lábios. Joaquin, porém, leva as mãos até o cós do shorts fino de pijama e começa a tirar ele mesmo, porém, você para o beijo antes que ele possa tirar.

— Joaquin — você chama ele, com uma mão no peito dele, mas sem empurrá-lo. 

— Você não quer fazer isso? — ele pergunta baixo, friccionando a própria ereção na sua virilha enquanto deixa mais alguns beijos entre seu rosto e pescoço. — Você tem um gosto tão bom.

— É que.. hã.. faz tempo que eu.. erm…— você começa a falar, se envergonhando e pausando a frase, mas ele te incentiva a continuar. — Nunca fiquei com outro cara além do meu ex. 

— Sério? — ele pergunta, arregalando os olhos, surpreso, mas sem te soltar. — Ninguém? 

— Eu conheci alguns caras nesse tempo solteira, mas nunca chegou a tanto — você admite. — Acho que tenho medo de não saber o que fazer com alguém diferente. 

Você esperava que ele se afastasse e esquecesse a ideia de ficar com você, mas ele apenas dá um sorriso em sua direção e te beija mais uma vez, tão gentil e amoroso quanto antes, porém com mais precisão. 

— Não precisa ter medo, eu tenho certeza que vou gostar de tudo o que você quiser me dar — ele responde, puxando seu shorts para baixo juntamente com a calcinha que você usava. Ele se afasta apenas para tirar o tecido e jogar em algum canto do quarto e logo deslizando o olhar dele por todo seu corpo, te fazendo arrepiar ao notar a luxúria e desejo nos olhos dele. 

Para não te deixar desconfortável, Joaquin também tira toda a roupa que usa e você, pela primeira vez, consegue admirar o corpo de um jogador de futebol bem na sua frente. Outro trovão faz as janelas tremerem e você mais uma vez leva um pequeno susto, mas dessa vez apenas dá risada enquanto Joaquin se abaixa novamente. 

Você permanece deitada de costas no colchão, mas dessa vez ele não volta a te beijar, apenas desliza a mão até a própria ereção, fazendo movimentos leves e não desviando o olhar de você em nenhum momento. Ao observar a cena, a sua vontade é de chorar ao admirar ele ali na sua frente, mas logo sua mente volta a lugar nenhum quando ele se abaixa e distribui beijos que iniciam no seu peito, passando pela barriga ao mesmo tempo que as mãos dele acariciam suas coxas. 

— Eu sonhei tanto com isso — ele fala assim que fica frente a frente com o meio das suas pernas e você não consegue fazer nada além de dar risada e ansiar pelo toque dele. — Tão molhada pra mim. 

— Por favor — você pede, não aguentando mais um segundo sem sentir ele em algum lugar do seu corpo. 

Ele apenas dá um sorriso malicioso e deixa mais alguns beijos na sua virilha, mas em seguida, leva os dedos de uma mão até sua abertura, passando a língua por toda a extensão pela primeira vez. A sensação te faz gemer alto, sem lembrar que há outros diversos hóspedes pelo corredor da pousada, provavelmente dormindo nesse momento. 

Ele leva as mãos até suas pernas, abrindo elas mais ainda para que ele possa te lamber, exatamente como ele sonhou por meses. Joaquin passa a língua algumas vezes entre suas dobras e você se contorce na cama, erguendo as costas e gemendo mais uma vez quando ele estimula seu clitóris com a língua. 

É vergonhoso falar que Joaquin, em menos de dois minutos, mostrou que seu ex não sabia de forma alguma como agradar uma mulher com sexo oral. Talvez ele também fosse o motivo de você evitar que ele te chupasse todas as vezes, pois não gostava tanto da maneira como ele fazia. 

Mas isso não tem nem comparação com o que você recebia. 

— Essa boceta tem gosto de mel — ele fala e deixa um leve sopro na sua entrada, te arrepiando quando entra em contato com o molhado da saliva dele e da sua própria excitação. Ele volta a te chupar, alternando entre a velocidade dos movimentos, sentindo você cada vez mais se contorcer sobre a boca dele. 

— Joaquin — você geme, levando as próprias mãos até seus peitos, brincando com seu mamilo em busca de um alívio maior do que a sensação prazerosa que ele te proporciona com a boca e a língua. — Isso é tão bom. 

— Olha pra você — ele fala quando ergue a cabeça do meio das suas pernas, — tão molhada e tão bonita enquanto eu te chupo. 

As palavras sujas que ele solta te levam a outro nível de prazer, algo que você nunca experimentou e nunca imaginou que também gosta. 

Ele leva dois dedos até sua entrada e penetra, sem tirar a língua que continua te estimulando. Um choramingo desesperado sai da sua garganta e Joaquin parece gostar, pois solta um gemido enquanto está com a boca ocupada na sua boceta. Ele começa a te foder com os dedos e inconscientemente, seu quadril ganha vida própria contra ele. Você não consegue controlar os movimentos desesperados em busca de alívio na direção da boca dele, querendo mais que tudo que ele te faça gozar. 

Palavras incompreendidas saem de seus lábios quando a sensação quente do orgasmo se forma dentro de você, ainda mais por sentir que Joaquin está em cada parte do seu corpo. Dedos, boca, o olhar dele sobre você… 

— Goza na minha boca — ele fala. — Quero ver você gozar. 

— Ah meu Deus — você geme, rebolando contra o rosto dele cada vez mais rápido e mais desesperada. — Ah meu Deus. 

Ele acelera os movimentos com a língua e enfia os dedos mais rápidos dentro de você, então em segundos, você se desfaz na boca dele, apertando seu próprio peito enquanto sente a sensação do orgasmo dentro de você. Você consegue sentir suas paredes internas apertarem os dedos dele enquanto goza, ainda gemendo o nome dele. 

— Esse é o melhor gosto que eu já senti — ele fala, deixando uma última lambida e erguendo a cabeça. Você consegue ver os rastros da sua umidade contra a barba dele e mesmo tendo acabado de gozar, você tem certeza que isso te deixa excitada novamente. — Dá me un beijo, sente teu gosto. 

Você não consegue falar nada, ele apenas sobe até você novamente e coloca a mão atrás do seu pescoço, erguendo sua cabeça e te puxando para um beijo faminto. Você sente o seu próprio gosto na língua dele, gemendo contra a boca dele ao sentir a língua dele deslizando contra a sua. 

— Posso te foder? — ele pergunta, levando uma mão até o próprio pau e passando contra a sua boceta úmida, te fazendo gemer ao passar a ponta do membro dele contra o seu clitóris, que ainda estava sensível. — Por favor, quero tanto isso. 

— Sim — você fala, abrindo mais as pernas para receber ele. Você abaixa o olhar para observar os corpos de vocês dois próximos, mordendo os lábios ao notar que ele está completamente duro, quase pingando contra você. Você leva uma das mãos até o pau dele, segurando e masturbando ele rapidamente enquanto ele afunda a boca no seu peito mais uma vez, mordendo seu mamilo e puxando, fazendo você fechar os olhos e perceber que já está completamente pronta para receber ele. 

Você leva uma perna ao redor da cintura dele, aproximando o corpo dele do seu e direcionando com a sua mão o pau dele para dentro de você. Ele solta seu peito e fecha os olhos, então você nota que ele tenta se conter quando finalmente, desliza tudo para dentro de você. Vocês dois soltam gemidos com a sensação prazerosa, porém ele ainda não se move, querendo que você se ajuste perfeitamente a ele. 

— Tão apertada — ele fala, mordendo os lábios enquanto segura o próprio peso do corpo com os braços, sem soltar o corpo em cima de você. — Isso é tão bom. 

Como ele não se mexe, você puxa a cintura dele com a perna, incentivando ele a se movimentar dentro de você. Ele geme e finalmente começa a te foder da maneira que ele sempre quis. Joaquin não faz movimentos rápidos de início, mas aumenta aos poucos, sentindo você se apertar contra ele, sabendo que dessa maneira não duraria muito, não depois de te ver gozar na boca dele. 

— Porra, que gostoso — ele geme mais uma vez e levanta o próprio tronco, sem deixar de te foder rapidamente. Ele tira sua perna da cintura dele e ergue, colocando uma das suas pernas sobre o ombro dele, querendo te sentir mais fundo e para poder te foder mais rápido. 

Sem conseguir evitar, você fecha os olhos, pois tinha certeza que nunca tinha sentido uma sensação tão boa em toda sua vida, sabendo que gemidos desesperados e palavras desconexas saiam pelos seus lábios. 

Ele parece tão fora de si quanto você, pois acelera os movimentos ainda mais, fazendo a cama velha fazer barulho pelos movimentos desesperados. Você abre os olhos assustada, ele nem sequer percebeu e leva os dedos até o seu clitóris, querendo fazer você gozar mais uma vez. 

— A cama — você fala, mas sem querer que ele pare os movimentos, — está fazendo barulho. 

— Foda-se — ele fala e você revira os olhos ao sentir os dedos dele te estimulando mais uma vez. — Eu quero que você goze no meu pau agora. 

— Sim, — você fala agarrando o lençol ao seu lado, deixando a ponta de seus dedos brancas ao apertar o tecido — mais rápido, por favor. 

— Meu pau encaixa tão bem em você — ele diz, aumentando os movimentos conforme você pediu. 

A cama começa a bater na parede e sem dúvidas vai acordar quem está dormindo no quarto ao lado, mas você nem consegue se importar com isso quando sente o orgasmo se aproximando mais uma vez. 

Joaquin abaixa a sua perna e você enrola elas na cintura dele mais uma vez, sentindo que ele leva uma das próprias mãos até a sua mão esticada sobre o lençol, entrelaçando seus dedos no dele. Ele aperta sua mão, sendo carinhoso ao mesmo tempo que te fode como você nunca foi antes. 

— Eu vou gozar — ele fala, deixando uma lambida no seu pescoço e a outra mão livre ele leva do outro lado do pescoço para apertar levemente. Você pega a sua mão livre e coloca por cima da dele, levando até a frente do seu pescoço e apertando a sua mão sobre a dele, indicando para ele te enforcar levemente. — Ah, dios.

— Pode gozar — você fala, sabendo que provavelmente teria um orgasmo ao mesmo tempo que ele. Ele aperta seu pescoço e solta sua mão, fazendo movimentos descontrolados enquanto solta suspiros e gemidos, seguidos de alguns palavrões. 

Não demora muito e você mais uma vez sente seu estômago se contrair, gemendo contra a boca dele quando goza pela segunda vez. Joaquin, ao sentir você se contrair ao redor dele, não consegue evitar, gozando também enquanto faz alguns movimentos atrapalhados pela sensação do orgasmo atravessar o corpo dele. 

Aos poucos ele para os movimentos, gemendo contra o seu pescoço quando termina de gozar e você sente cada parte dele pulsando dentro de você. Você fecha os olhos quando ele cai sobre o seu corpo, com o rosto na curva do seu pescoço, relaxando aos poucos junto com ele. Você tira as pernas ao redor da cintura dele e deixa elas caírem sobre o colchão, trêmulas por causa do orgasmo. 

Você vira o rosto em direção a janela quando uma claridade invade o quarto rapidamente, então ouve a chuva caindo e não parece ter diminuído desde que vocês chegaram ali. Um trovão mais uma vez é ouvido e você sente Joaquin respirar silenciosamente contra você, achando que ele tinha dormido, mas quando você cutuca o braço dele, ele ergue a cabeça e te encara, sorrindo preguiçosamente. 

— Isso foi muito bom — ele fala, com a voz arrastada. Ele se levanta e sai de dentro de você, te deixando com a sensação de vazio, mas ele volta e deixa um beijo lento nos seus lábios, te arrancando suspiros. — Vou te limpar. 

Ele se levanta e anda até o banheiro, voltando com um pouco de papel e passando entre suas pernas, tirando o que havia ficado ali, indo até o banheiro e voltando logo em seguida. Ele deita ao seu lado e te puxa contra ele, colocando um braço embaixo da sua cabeça, te fazendo ficar deitada contra o peito dele. Você quase suspira quando ele deixa um beijo nos seus cabelos, um carinho que você há muito tempo não tinha com ninguém. 

— Está pronta para me dar una chance? — ele pergunta enquanto passa os dedos pelas suas costas. 

Você solta uma risada baixa e não responde de início, pensando em todas as possibilidades, mas não querendo prometer nada a ele. 

— Eu posso pensar no seu caso — você responde, fazendo desenhos invisíveis no peito nu dele. — Vamos ver como as coisas se desenrolam. 

Você não quer pensar no futuro, nas coisas que podem acontecer ao namorar com ele. Nada disso passa pela sua cabeça enquanto você aproveita a sensação de estar deitada ali com ele, sentindo o sono se aproximar enquanto a chuva se faz presente do lado de fora.

— Eu posso lidar com isso.

[cambion-companion]

could I request for you to write an scenario in which Raphael does not die to Tav nor their party, but in an other similarly humiliating circumstances, and Tav when learning about this desperately goes to save Raphael from his father by bargaining with Mephistopheles? (hilariously in a very sad way, I assume this, is the only moment that Mephistopheles would ever "value" Raphael's life, but then again that is devils for you) and Raphael's confusion at the whole thing, someone taking a terrible bargain to save him, just… because they… like him…??? (bonus points, if Tav still has a crown to willingly give Raphael XD)

It's beat up Raphael hours huh? (also Korilla will be fine)

Hi there love. This turned from a drabble into a oneshot haha

Have fun running to Cania to pick up your wayfaring devil!

Raphael x reader (gn)

Korilla had come to you.

Broker and bruised, battered and bloody. Her long curly hair matted with mud and dried viscous.

“Help him.”  Her first words, rasped from a throat raw from screams.

“Korilla!”  You caught her weight as her knees buckled, lowering her gently to the ground.  The Dwarven woman wasn’t your friend by any means, but she had been your ally.  “Who needs my help?”  You couldn’t fathom who she might be referring to.

Surely it wasn’t Raphael. It couldn’t possibly be the enigmatic, self-assured cambion.

Korilla’s answering rasp dispelled any doubt. “My master.”

A fog of shock settled over your mind, your hands loosening around Korilla’s shaking form.  She whispered the truth into your ear, her bruised lips trailing her blood onto your clammy skin. With fading voice Korilla told of the attack, Raphael’s demise and his imminent doom.

“Portal. Diabolist.  Cania.”  Korilla’s breaths grew short as she fought valiantly once more against the oncoming black.

“Hold on, Korilla.  You’re going to be okay.”

“Save him.” She said again, her eyes slowly glossing over as the life left her broken body.

You cursed.  The warlock’s last actions had been to find you in a desperate hope you’d help Raphael before he was consumed by his father.  His father who just so happened to be an archdevil. Mephistopheles.

“Little shit could’ve mentioned that.”  You grimaced, lowering Korilla’s body to rest upon the cold earth.

You stood, pinching the bridge of your nose as your thoughts whirled and clashed. Not only had the attackers killed Raphael, but they had also looted his house, stealing the Orphic hammer and the only hope you’d had of defeating the Elder Brain.

“Damn it.”  You returned to your companions with the news. “Looks like we’re taking a rescue party to hell.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress?”  Astarion asked, tilting his head as his red eyes flickered over your blood-flecked form.

“Raphael.”

The plan was to use as much stealth as possible. The vaults of Mephisto had been broken into not long ago, according to Raphael, so it was possible.  A direct confrontation with the archdevil himself was out of the question.  

The diabolist in Baldur’s Gate took some convincing, but in the end you were able to push enough gold across the counter to seal the deal.  

“Very well.  Though I warn you, you’ll not return alive or with your souls intact.”

“Yes, yes.”  You waved the woman off, her visage reminding you of Korilla. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.”  Your eyes scanned the musky shop. Do you have anything that will locate a specific fiend?”

With a Locate Creature spell scroll ready in your bag you watched as the diabolist created for you a portal. Ice crystals immediately crusted on the edge of the black abyss, the wind coming from the portal nearly freezing your shoes to the floor.

“Quickly, and remember the disguises!”  She ushered you and your party through, the frigid darkness enveloping you with a grim finality.

Through cold halls you’d snuck, invisible fingers cold as death scraping along your back and through your hair as you passed beneath torches of blue flame.

Time lost all meaning here.  Your eyes began to play tricks on you. The only thing keeping your mind focused was the spell lighting the edge of your vision with a warm glow, growing brighter as you hurried to where Raphael was being held.

An age, or an hour had passed.

The wrought iron door, so cold to the touch it burned, swung noiselessly inward, admitting you to an octagonal shaped room. On the far wall you saw him, his form dark, chained by one wrist to the wall.

“Raphael.”  You hissed, unexplainable relief flooding your frozen veins when his head moved in response.  

Your companions waited by the open doorway, keeping watch from the shadows.  You snuck as quickly as you could to where Raphael was restrained. His glowing eyes looking down upon you with consternation before recognition slowly dawned across his sharp features.

You held up a hand, silencing him as he opened his mouth. Movement could be heard from outside the prison room. You were running out of time.

“Can you get us out of here if I free you?”  You hissed, still keenly aware of the nature of the devil.

Raphael nodded, his tail moving to and fro in agitation.  Something about his vitality seemed to be missing, you had never imagined seeing him in such a state.  It was unsettling.

The matter of removing the singular shackle proved to be more challenging than you’d thought.  Astarion’s lockpicking skills proved futile.

“It’s a magical seal.”  Raphael breathed, his voice low yet sharp with anger born of desperation. “Now’s not the time to play the fool.”

You gave him a severe look which he matched right back at you, his eyes sparking flame.

You raised a hand to the ice-covered metal, about to dispel the magic surrounding the lock. “You owe me a favor.  A big one.  I don’t know yet what I will ask of you, but you will deliver. Understood?”

Raphael’s gaze scorched you for a moment, it was clear he was furious with his current predicament. But he had no choice, and both of you knew it.

He nodded curtly.

You cast your spell.

Raphael’s wrist broke free with the sharp sound of metal splintering. His hand closed tight around your arm, the dungeons of Mephisto melted away as you and your companions were yanked unceremoniously back to the material plane.

At least, your companions were.  Deposited non-gently upon the hard ground of your camp.

Raphael kept hold of you.  Taking you back to the foyer of his house. The house which still lay in semi ruin from its previous sacking.

He was angry.  Each step he took crackled fire and promise of swift vengeance.

“Raphael…”  You said hesitantly, following him down into the dining hall.  “Raphael, Korilla-”

“Is dead.”  Under the glow of firelight, you could properly see the state he was in. You winced when he turned to face you. “I know. Though not as dead as those who dared pillage my home, the fools.”

“Do you know who?”  You remained wary as you watched him conjure an armchair and sink down into it.

Raphael ignored your question, he issued orders in the abrasive Infernal tongue, seemingly into thin air.  His fingers clicked and a spark of flame licked around them.  Unseen servants began bustling around, clearing the debris and wreckage.  Setting the House of Hope back in order.

Raphael leveled his gaze upon you.  His expression was not unkind, it was calculating.  He had underestimated you and overestimated himself.  Not a mistake he’d make again.

“Why?”  No flowery words, no ado.

“I still need the hammer.”  You had the response prepared, having known the question was coming.

“You could have hunted down the thieves without my help.”  Raphael narrowed his hellfire eyes. “Why come to my aid?”

“Korilla asked me to.  It was her dying wish.”  You fidgeted under his piercing presence. “Besides, you’re a useful ally.  I still need your help to save the world.”

Raphael arched a brow, unconvinced. “Half-truths are still considered lies, dear.  But there are matters I must attend to.”  He stood, restless.  

“Will your father come for you again once he realizes you’re gone.”  The question came before you could stop yourself.

“Concerned for me?”  Raphael appraised you, a knowing tilt to his head. “No.  He will not.”

You didn’t argue, Raphael was clearly on edge, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You rubbed circles against your aching temple. “Well, seems we have some thieves to track down.  A hammer to retrieve.”

Raphael looked as though he was biting back a sharp retort.  He chewed on his words, looking you over. “Yes.”  He growled, infernal fire flickering off his form. “You may watch as I peel their souls from the writhing mortal flesh.”

In an unexpected move, Raphael strode to you and took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath hot on your still chilled skin. “You may even assist me, if you so desire.”  He straightened.

That was as close to a “thank you” as you were going to get.

You set your jaw grimly. “When do we start?”

[koolades-world]

for the secret santa with @obeymeholidayexchange, i wrote something for Pen! (you can find them over at twitter and insta at PensAerts :)) i also uploaded it to ao3, which you can find here!

sorry this is after christmas! i intended to have it to you on christmas but i thought i lost everything thanks to an issue with the program i use to write. no clue what happened but basically everything recent just vanished. it eventually fixed itself, but by that point, i'd already restarted so i had two half finished pieces. i decided to combine them and just have it be longer. tried my best to get it to flow! i decided to go with the prompt of purgatory hall members decorate the common room together! really hope you enjoy <3

December First

While the sun never rose in the Devildom, Luke rose out of bed at what was presumably the crack on dawn on the first of December without an alarm. His internal alarm knew that the time had finally come. Without being so silent, he dashed around his room, getting ready for the day. Once he was changed, he flung open the doors to his closet, searching for one box in particular. Usually, he'd ask for help getting it down, but he didn't have time for that today. Not when he had Christmas cheer to spread.

So, he carefully moved the chair from his desk, and placed it near the shelf that held his special Christmas box. He had to stand on his tippy toes, but he was eventually able to reach the box. Luke placed it on his bed, and opened it with glee. He was so excited, that he didn't bother to return the chair to its proper place. The first thing he did was don the cute reindeer headband he'd dug out. He made sure each of the bells attached worked by ringing each one individually. He also tested the lights, and ran through each setting. The second thing he did was gather three more festive headbands for his housemates. If they weren't awake, they would be soon. They had a lot of work to do, after all!

He hurried off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He was in so much of a rush, in fact, that he had forgotten to take off his headband, and almost combed it in his haste. Once he was done there, he scurried down the stairs.

Good, he thought. He was the first one awake. That meant his plan would be much easier to execute. He knew his housemates were much less enthusiastic about decorating for Christmas as soon as December rolled around. He'd actually been ready weeks ago, but Simeon had asked him to refrain. This was one of the few times they openly disagreed. Simeon thought Christmas ought to be just for December, while Luke wanted Christmas to start as soon as Halloween was over.

Luke had always been very enthusiastic about celebrating birthdays. At least a month before someone's birthday rolled around, Luke was already planning exactly how to make their special day perfect. If you took a step back, Christmas was a birthday! So, really, he was just doing as he normally would. It just happened to be the birthday of his boss' son that he didn't personally know, nor would any of the presents or decorations be for him. A little odd, but he tried not to think about that too hard. He just wanted to enjoy the holiday.

The first step of his plan involved making a festive breakfast. How could you be in the true Christmas spirit without a hot chocolate? He dragged his little stool, which Barbatos had bought for him so he could reach the kitchen appliances, over to the stove so he could start preparing an entire pot. He expected all three of his housemates to partake, so he needed enough to share with everyone.

As he was pouring the milk into the pot, he heard a heavy sigh behind him. Luke jumped and slowly spun around with a guilty grin on his face. His headband jingled as he moved, making him feel like a little clown. He was greeted with a very exasperated looking Simeon. "Hello." Luke waved as if he wasn't standing over the stove at about six in the morning in a reindeer headband.

"Good morning, Luke." Simeon smiled knowingly. He didn't ask what Luke had been up to, but they both knew that the other knew what was happening.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" Luke weakly offered.

"Are you already preparing for the holidays?" Simeon already knew what his answer would be.

"Yes…" Luke hung his head, as if he had been caught doing something he knew was wrong.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Instead of giving whatever answer Luke had been expected, Simeon offered his assistance. When Luke's eyes sparkled, he couldn't help but let any stern facade that might have reminded slip away.

"Thank you!" Luke threw his arms around his mentor. With a chuckle, Simeon squeezed him back. "For breakfast, I was thinking confetti pancakes, but with festive sprinkles." Luke reached as far as he could to try and reach a canister of sprinkles that was sitting out on the counter. Simeon grabbed them for him, and read the packaging.

"Extra festive holiday sprinkles?" Simeon questioned.

"Is there something wrong with them?" Luke narrowed his eyes, feeling a little insecure about his choice.

"No, no. They're very adorable. Just what makes them 'extra' festive, though?" Simeon made sure to quickly dispel the younger angel's obvious worries.

"Oh. I'm not really sure." Luke furrowed his eyebrows. The pair bounced ideas off each other as to what made the sprinkles extra festive as they made breakfast. The pancakes turned out well, besides the fact that for whatever reason, the color from the snowflake sprinkles leeched out. Luke said it looked almost like snow had fallen on their breakfast, and Simeon much preferred to look at it that way over mulling over why that had happened.

However, by the time everything was ready, their other two housemates weren't awake yet. The idea of starting to eat without them made him feel guilty. He'd started making the breakfast with the intention of sharing it as a surprise. It was less of a surprise, considering Simeon had helped, but at the very least, it could still be a surprise for the other two.

"Should we go wake them up?" Luke asked. Each plate was set out, and the pancakes were set out on the table.

"Go see if they're awake." Simeon stepped back into the kitchen, waving the younger angel away.

"You don't want to come with me?" Luke gathered his remaining festive headbands. After a little debating, he decided to give the candy cane headband to Simeon. Candy canes were his favorite, after all. Simeon took it from him without a second thought, and put it on.

"I'm certain you and Mc are the only two that can safely interrupt Raphael's beauty rest." Simeon chuckled nervously. "Besides, I know Solomon will ask for bacon. Do you know if we have any?"

Luke wasn't sure if what Simeon was saying was true, but went along with it anyways. "I think we do." After that, Luke ventured off up the stairs in search of their other housemates. To his shock, he ran into Solomon in the hallway as he was exiting the bathroom.

"Good morning, Luke!" He exclaimed. In his arms was a damp towel, and a couple toiletries.

"Good morning! I was looking for you. Simeon and I made breakfast!" Luke looked between the two remaining headbands, and passed Solomon the one that resembled a Christmas tree.

"These are cute. You don't mind that my hair is still wet, do you?" Solomon paused before putting it on.

"I don't." With Luke's affirmation, he snapped the headband on.

"Thank you. I'll be down shortly then. I have to attend to something I was working on first." Solomon seemed eager to escape the conversation in order to get back to his room. Luke was left alone in the hall, wondering what could've been so important that he wouldn't rush to festivities. He could hear the door snap shut.

With a shrug, he continued down the hall the Raphael's room. He'd never been worried about waking him up in the past, but Simeon's aversion to doing so made him rethink his choice.

No, what was he thinking? Raphael needed to know about the festivities he had planned for the day, and he needed to know now. He gently knocked, and waited to hear back. When he heard no response, he knocked harder. "Raphael?" He pushed open the door slightly. He was astonished again to find that he wasn't in his room. His bed was neatly made, meaning that he likely wasn't there anymore.

What could he be doing at this time of day? Maybe he was out training? That seemed the most likely. But, he needed to find him to be sure. He started his search outside, but that turned up nothing. Besides, Luke would've seen him exit the house. Raphael must've stayed inside, then. He peeked into every room in search of him, and followed every noise in hope it would give him any clues. After about ten minutes, Luke felt as if he'd checked everywhere.

Luke sat down in the hallway with a huff. He felt his stomach rumble mid-thought. He wasn't sure where Raphael could've gone, but he needed to figure out fast. Otherwise, his stomach might start eating itself like he heard Solomon mention one time. This thought clouded his mind, but he still wracked his brain for any ideas. As he was doing just that, he heard the ceiling above him creak loudly, and a cloud of dust rained down onto him. Luke let out a loud sneeze, and moved out of the way, just in case it happened again.

The only possible origin of that could've come from the attic. The thought of going into the attic made him shudder. It was so dark and dusty up there, and it felt like something was looming in each dark corner. Behind him, one of the attic doors swung open, and the ladder fell down with a bang. Luke almost jumped out of his skin, and he promptly ducked behind the nearest hall table. He peaked his head from behind the table, observing to see if anything might happen.

There must've been a reason it opened as suddenly as it did. In his waiting with baited breath, he realized he hadn't checked up there yet. There was no reason to, right? The last thing he wanted was to check in the creepiest place known to angels. Who knows what could be up there?

But then he remembered the reason he had been looking in the first place. What if Raphael needed his help? What if something had dragged him up there, and he needed Luke's help? With the stakes in mind, he sucked in a deep breath and started up the ladder.

After he pulled himself up the final rung, he felt consumed by the darkness. "Hello?" He carefully stepped forward, and turned the lights on his headband back on. It wasn't much, but Luke needed all the help he could get. Behind him, he heard the shuffling of boxes. He whirled around, searching for the source of the sound. It was too dark to see exactly where it had come from, though.

"If someone is there, come on out." He bravely squared his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. A terrifying figure came out from behind a large stack of boxes. It was large, and was shaped like a spike. Various other spikes protruded all over. Luke couldn't even begin to imagine what that thing was. The Devildom was full of odd and dangerous creatures, but he'd never seen anything like this one.

He immediately froze. He hadn't expected anything to actually be there, or for his demands to be respected. He silently said his goodbyes to everyone he loved, and braced for whatever was about to happen. He took a step backwards, and nearly tumbled back down to the previous floor. The last thing he expected, however, was for this figure to reach out and snag him by the front of his shirt. He was yanked back up and towards the mystery figure.

"Luke. What are you doing up here?" Raphael asked, dusting him off gently.

"What are YOU doing up here? I thought I was about to die." He let out a deep breath, clutching his chest.

"I'm setting up the Christmas tree." After looking closer, Luke realized the spiky thing he'd been carrying was the pieces of their tree. "I figured you'd want the help, so I got a head start." He tossed the pieces down the opening on the floor, letting them clatter to the ground. The sentiment warmed Luke's heart, despite the fact that he'd given him a heart attack in the process

"I thought you were a monster." Luke admitted shyly. Raphael didn't respond, but Luke knew he was amused. "Oh, right! Simeon and I made breakfast. I was looking for you to tell you." He felt stupid for forgetting the entire point of his mission.

"Let's head down then. The rest of the decoration can wait until after" Raphael descended the ladder. Luke went down after him, and although he made it down safely, Raphael seemed ready to catch him again if needed. In return, Luke helped him carry the parts of the tree down the stairs and together, they staked out a spot to put it. Before they headed back to the dining room, Luke threw his arms around Raphael's middle.

"Thank you." Luke then put the last headband on Raphael's head, which was gingerbread themed, with a little help from Raph himself.

"For what?" After realizing that Luke wasn't going to be letting go, he hugged him back, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"For being in the Christmas spirit, of course! And saving me, too." Luke was grateful for him, and he felt like he didn't say it enough. "In general, too. You're always there for me!" Raphael seemed like he was at a loss for words, and when Luke looked up, he was silently smiling down at him. With one more tight squeeze, Luke let go.

"Breakfast has been getting cold for forever now! Let's go eat so we can put this together." Luke began to tug Raphael back towards the kitchen, where hopefully the others were waiting. Raphael followed without resistance.

Once they finally arrived at the kitchen, it felt like hours had passed. Simeon and Solomon were in the kitchen, like he'd hoped. The distinct, biting smell of coffee filled the air, cutting through every other scent with ease. Simeon was enjoying the homemade hot chocolate, while it seemed as if Solomon had made himself a coffee. When Luke finally came back with Raphael in tow, they could all enjoy breakfast together. Luke recounted the story, mouth half-full of pancake the entire time. He was glad everyone was so receptive to Luke brining Christmas to the Hall as soon as possible.

As soon as he was finished eating (which was at record speed), Luke popped out of his chair, washed his dishes, and moved his legs as fast as they would go to the living room. He and Raphael had decided the tree would look best in the corner of the living room. That way, they could enjoy it every time they sat there as opposed to putting it somewhere like the foyer. He did what he could until someone taller came to help him out. With the help of Solomon, they assembled the tree, and plugged it in. The lights glimmered a pale blue. While Luke liked it, he decided the tree needed much more color.

Again, with Solomon as an assistant, he headed back up to the attic. Together, they dug around before realizing Raphael had already done that for them. All the Christmas related box, labeled or not, had been sorted into a pile in the center of the attic. However, finding the boxes was only half the work. To get it out of the attic, Luke was able to kick back and relax as Solomon used magic to transport them back to the living room. Once they were there, they were able to sort through them. Once they found the garland, tinsel, and ornaments, the fun was able to begin.

Luke decided they'd be putting up extra lights on the tree first. Working as a team, they wound the tree up with lights. The process was repeated with a couple strings of tinsel in different colors, because they couldn't find anything that matched. Since Luke wanted to save the tree topper for last, they then worked to put all the ornaments up. Spacing them out proved hard for Luke and Solomon, while Raphael and Simeon watched on in amusement. It felt like no matter where they tried to put them, there was always something else too close. When Simeon helped upon Luke's insistence, he was able to place them perfectly every time.

Finally, it came time to place the star on top. While magic could be used, Solomon insisted Luke do it. Solomon said it was hard to ignore the grin that appeared on his face every time the star was mentioned. After Raphael placed him on his shoulders, Simeon passed Luke the star. He gently placed it where it belonged.

"How'd I do?" Luke asked as he was placed back onto the ground, barely keeping his excitement from creeping into his voice.

"It looks great. You did a superb job!" Solomon gave him a thumbs up. Raphael nodded in agreement.

"Yay!" Luke did a little jump for joy.

"Do we want to take a short break before we get to decorating the rest of the common room?" Simeon took a seat on the sofa, looking more winded than it seemed like he wanted to admit.

"This is the perfect time to tell you about our plans for the rest of the day!" Luke jumped at the chance to let them in on what he was doing. He'd made it with the intention with doing it alone but, he knew they'd help no matter what. It would be easy for onlookers to tell just how much the elder housemates cared for the younger one. It was clearly one big, happy family.

"We're listening." Solomon took a seat. Simeon looked at Luke like a proud father might at his son during a big moment.

"Before I do, I'd like to thank you guys!" Without further explanation, he caught all three of them in a hug. Solomon and Raphael seemed stunned, but Simeon was quicker to reciprocate. "I love you guys." Luke muttered.

"We love you too, Luke." Simeon was laughing, but Luke knew he meant it.

He'd never thought coming to the Devildom would mean so much love. But, going was easily the best choice Luke had made. He would've never met Beelzebub, Barbatos, Mc, or Solomon, nor would his bond with Simeon or Raphael grown that much tighter. Christmas was a time to spread the love, and he intended to make sure each demon, angel, or human close to him knew, starting with the three most important to him.

"I know it's only December first, but Merry Christmas you guys!"

"Merry Christmas Luke."