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.
Soft(ish)!Raphael x fem!Tav x Haarlep
Raphael sets out the terms for his forgiveness. After all, it’s not nice to feel left out.
Or
Rapha
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.
I heard from a pair of bloomers waiting to be put out to dry that you were looking for fluffy bayverse raph prompts? Maybe something set at the farmhouse? Raph getting to wake up with the sun streaming through the window for once, cuddling close with his s/o, as soft and sweet as you want to make it please ❤️.
Final ask answered! I am such a sucker for soft romance... this was so nice to write. Also it's very funny that I'm giving off the vibe that I'd like to write for Bayverse Raph. Honestly, I love writing for him. He's my second favourite turtle next to Mikey.
I hope this is what you envisioned. Thank you for sending the prompt, these asks have been great for helping me to become a better writer.
Thanks to @sophiacloud28 for checking it over for me!
TW: A tiny bit spicy at the end with Raph getting a little handsy with his SO.
Raph x female reader, aged up characters of course.
Edited to add: one of my favourite Snow Patrol songs, which seemed to fit the scene quite well.
Golden Mornings
There was something so indescribably intimate about the mornings. Waking up slow, wrapped in his warm embrace. The soft, sleepy puffs of air on your neck. Deep, even motions of his chest, rising and falling with each breath. Strategically placed hands, and oh, those magnificent arms of his. Holding you like you were the most precious thing he owned. You were special to him in a way he couldn’t even express.
So, he showed you. Pressing tender kisses to your palms, knuckles, whatever he could reach really. Any expanse of skin was begging to have his mouth on it. Hugs from behind, especially when you were least expecting it. He didn’t care what you’re doing, you were not in his arms and that needed to be rectified. His arms belonged around you. He needed to feel the press of your body against his because it had just been too long since he felt it. He was addicted to you. Your scent, your softness, he loved it all.
He especially loved packing you up and taking you out for adventures on his bike. No responsibilities, no stress, just the two of you on the open road. He often liked taking you to the old, yet refurbished farmhouse. There was just something about that place that you couldn’t describe. It was many things that made this place special. The house itself, nestled in secluded acres of farmland and forestry. The feeling of being wrapped in the solitude of the sounds and smells of nature. Watching him walk around freely outdoors with no fear of anyone looking at him like he’s anything less than the incredible creature he is. Your unsung hero in red.
Oh, and waking up with him in this place. That was something else. Golden sunlight streaming in through tiny cracks in the blinds. His soft murmuring in your hair as you shift slightly and inhale deeply upon waking. Not yet… he wanted to stay in bed and hold you just a little longer. His arms tightening to keep you there, afraid to let you go. You’re quick to reassure him that you’re not going anywhere and feel his arms relax a little. He’s still somewhere between sleep and waking but coherent enough to press a soft kiss at the nape of your neck and slide his hand over your hip.
That’s when you felt rather than heard just how relaxed and content he really was. A sound reserved only for you. Soft, rumbling vibrations that radiated from his body to yours. Permeating your entire being. He only ever churred around you and it was both humbling and gratifying to know how safe and happy he felt to do it so freely. The rumbling alone could be enough to lull you back into the sweet embrace of sleep but you had other things on your mind.
You feel his grip tighten a little with the very purposeful push of your backside to his lower body. Oh, he was more awake now. The rumbling intensifies and you feel more soft kisses, spanning the expanse between your neck and shoulder. His hands, no longer still, began exploring the remainder of your uncovered skin. He didn’t like any barriers between his body and your own and made a point of removing them. Sometimes things got torn from you in heated moments of passion. Occasionally though, he removed things slowly like you were his own personal birthday present and he was taking his time unwrapping you. You weren’t sure which you preferred honestly. He could turn you into a puddle of need either way.
Currently, he was doing just that as his large hands smoothed their way across your body. The lazy beams of sunlight painting the walls only served to add warmth to the slow burn growing between the two of you. He can smell how much you want him. The sharp intake of breath and the squeeze of his hand on your hip was evidence enough. Your arousal was near impossible for him to resist, sweet, heady, and just you. If you were willing, he never hesitated in giving you exactly what you needed.
A plea from your lips has his hand travelling up to your breast for a squeeze and a gently brushing of his fingers across the peaks. A gasp escaped your lips, coupled with a now involuntary push of your hips. Then he growled, the sound sending an absolute rush of need straight to your core.
“Good way to wake up…” he husked; his voice rough with want.
“Best way to wake up…” was your quick, yet breathless reply.
He couldn’t agree more. He may not be great with words, but he was going to show you just how much he loved and appreciated you. Right at that moment, in that perfect golden morning. Just the two of you.
Pairing: Tav/Raphael
SPICE Rating: 4/5
Content Warnings: Sex, hurt/comfort, minor peril, injury detail, some medical treatment (non-sexual context), willpower bondage (mild)
Spoilers
Act 3 House of Hope, Steel Watch
Canon Compliance
Barely. There's an element of the canon in how the Steel Watch are dealt with, but that's about it.
Other Notes
This one might well end up moved into proper ATG continuity at a later date I'm just not sure when. I was inspired to write some soft Raphael so that's exactly what I did, imagining exactly the kind of scenario that might force the devil to show some care, because all nine hells know he's not doing that by choice.
Mood/Song
Firedancer by Poets of the Fall
"Sage advice or sensory overload
Whatever the pressure
However your pleasure holds you captive to the treasure
No matter how the earth reverberates
You're dancing with the greats
With the fools and their fates
For time, it never waits.
(Crash the gates)
Firedancer, flame of life
(What remains)
Is a gamble, fall or fly
(Play your ace)
and remember there's a why
You should always question the answer."
-----
FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT
-----
The building had already begun to shake. Oil slicked the floor and broken machine parts made an obstacle course of their escape. Of course there had been not a second to spare to try and clear a sensible path, and several times curses were muttered as feet skidded in bloodied mess, boots desperate to find purchase on metal and stone to propel them as far away from the impending explosion as possible.
The Steel Watch were about to fall, the Gondians all but safe, save for one.
Tav stopped, putting her arm around the injured man to help get him to safety, but she had fallen behind. The others were still sprinting ahead as she summoned every bit of strength in her body to carry him and get them out.
The doors were wide open onto sunlit streets, where hundreds cowered in the shadow of brutal machines. Perhaps some could be saved, maybe they weren’t too late-
“KARLACH!” Tav yelled, using the last of her adrenaline to bodily hurl the injured gnome towards her, trusting the tiefling to catch him. Unfortunately, her boots were still coated in gore and lubricant. While the Gondian flew to apparent safety, Tav fell forwards, landing hard.
The next second, the bomb went off.
The ground shook and the Foundry went up in a huge explosion. The amount of incendiary within the building was more than enough to send the masonry flying. Tav’s ears rang, barely able to hear the sound of her friends crying out, her lovers reaching towards her with fear on their faces seeing it was already too late. She felt the door itself, half splintered but still heavy enough to break bone, crash into her hip. Wood pierced her skin, the impact shattering her thigh. White hot pain coursed through her entire body, more stone hitting her, the smell of burning and explosive and…sulphur?
She barely held on to the edge of her consciousness, vision blurry, as she saw something… someone , appear before her in a brief flash of light. Then everything went dark.
—
Raphael paced the room back and forth restlessly. Occasionally his hand raked through his usually perfect hair, other times it tapped against his chin in the brief moments he stopped walking.
No, not now. How utterly ridiculous a notion. Far too much planning-
His mind raced, emotions that were little understood fighting for dominance in his consciousness. “That vicious little shit.” He voiced his complaints aloud at last, earning a slight huff from his slightly-too-perfect mirror on the bed.
“I told you he would be trouble when you let him go,” Haarlep couldn’t resist pointing out the harsh truth, “but you insisted.”
“It was meant to play out perfectly. All he had to do was get the crown, then I could wrest it from his grimy little fingers, and the Hells would be MINE. There was no chance that I could steal it from the vault myself, bastard would’ve sensed me a mile away. But a former cobbler’s son bound in service? He’d pay no mind to that.” Raphael stopped. This wasn’t the issue at hand. “How is it that he built such ridiculous machines? And why did she feel the need to play hero?”
“Oh I think you well know the answer to that one, Archduke.” The insulting nickname stung far sharper this time, that same pawn that could have crowned himself King took the very title that Raphael coveted for so long. “You’ve said it yourself before. She’s unpredictable .”
“She’s a liability, Harlot.” Raphael shot back with a weaker venom. “How can something so fragile hold the key to everything we need- everything I need.” He corrected himself.
“Why don’t you stop your complaining and check on her already?” Haarlep sighed, tired of hearing the same conversation repeat on a loop. It had been hours already and the fool still had no clue why he fretted so much over a simple rodent.
“Fine.” The cambion huffed, smoothing down his hair and checking his reflection. The healing waters in his room could only do so much, they would not treat a more severe or lasting injury, and he had little trust in the ridiculous concoctions of mortal mages. It had taken an embarrassing amount of strings pulled and favours called, quite a few pawns he’d held in reserve were used up to make the arrangement so swiftly. But they were the best healer in the city, and he would have no less for his most important client.
—
Tav groaned. Despite all the potions and balms, having multiple chunks of wood and masonry pulled from your muscle was never going to be a pleasant experience. Every time she thought the pain might make her pass out, it kept her vividly conscious. The older elf passed her another small potion, keeping her constitution temporarily stronger to help the healing.
“Quite the predicament you ended up in, Little Mouse. Taking the cheese from within the trap and getting your tail caught? I thought you were smarter than that.” His words carried condescension, but the tone and the glimpse of the wrinkles on his brow spoke of concern, only lightly tinged with disappointment.
“Luckily, it seems the cat came to the rescue just in time.” She smiled, teasing a little, but genuinely grateful.
Gratitude, it seemed, was not something he knew how to handle. Not the sincere kind, anyway. Tav reasoned his discomfort must be because he was expecting something.
“There’s a price to pay for your help, isn’t there?” She shrugged. “No need to explain, I know how the world works, Raphael, especially with demons and deals. But if you want my eternal servitude, I’m afraid you should’ve left me to a quicker burial back there.”
“What?” He sounded genuinely taken aback, offended perhaps by the suggestion, or by the implication the moment he denied it. “If I wanted your servitude, the contract and pen would be in your hand already. No, that achieves nothing.”
He pulled up a chair taking a seat beside where she lay face down, devoid of most dignity as the cleric yanked another large chunk of mahogany from her rear. “FUCK could you at least warn me a little next time?”
The elf shrugged. “The pain would be no different either way. Kinder if you don’t know it’s coming, really.” They pulled another piece midway through the sentence as if to prove a point.
“Are you almost finished?” Raphael hissed a little too impatiently, brown eyes flicking across Tav’s face briefly again as she winced in pain. He should be used to people suffering, he was certainly good enough at arranging it, but there was something in the way his face twitched, as if his expressions were beginning to slip.
“Not much left. Only half a door in her, not a whole one, and the bones will need longer to set.” They gestured to the splint and bandages down Tav’s leg and on one of her wrists. “Only a few days, especially if you use everything you have at your disposal, but the bone still needs to knit together properly or her dreams of joining the circus will be completely gone.”
“The circus?” The cambion looked at her, perplexed.
“In my defence, those potions are really strong. And so is the pain. I was barely conscious.” She shrugged. “Besides, I used to enjoy Dribbles performing when I was young. Who didn’t?” She tried to push aside the memory of the clown’s dismembered body parts they kept finding in the city. That could wait.
“Little Mouse, you’re not a performer. Even if you do like to dance with danger for no reason.” He sighed, almost reaching out to her but stopping short, putting his hand instead on the edge of the table and standing up. “The damage shouldn’t be permanent. But you will be staying here for the duration of your recovery.”
“Excuse me?” She tried to raise herself up more on her arms to see his face where he stood above her, but shuddered as the pain pulled at the nerves in her shoulder.
“Stop trying so hard, Little Mouse, you are quite safe. I will not have any further harm come to my favourite client.” He gently pressed her shoulder back down, hand remaining there for far longer than either of them expected.
“Ah. There it is. Client. You still have use for me, that’s why you’re going so far for my sake.” She hadn’t expected anything more, but it stung nonetheless.
Raphael faltered, the warmth of his fingers still refusing to leave her. “You are not just any client, Mouse. I have told you before, I have no desire to turn you into just some pitiful debtor, nor do I wish to chain you to any contract beyond what I offered before.” He continued to justify his actions, denying his motivations to himself as much as to anyone else. “You and your friends are uniquely positioned to get what I want, and I can provide you with the means to keep your lovely face tentacle free.”
Lovely? She turned the word over in her mind. No, another trick to loosen her grip on her sanity and make her sign. She hadn’t decided yet...and they had time still. She was certain that if it came down to it, she could make that deal at the very last possible moment, if she had to. Although, that would give him a lot more power… Tav groaned. Why is nothing ever simple, and why do I have to be the one to decide all of this? And why is he still being so nice? It’s easier when it’s just unhinged sex, or the usual mind games, the back and forth of Cat and Mouse…
“Get some rest, Little Mouse. You will need it. Our foes will not wait forever.” The cambion’s hand caressed her hair gently, a move that surprised them both again. He withdrew, as if he had touched the very edge of a hot stove. Although, who had ever heard of a devil getting burned?
—
Haarlep smiled far too sweetly as the master of the house re-entered the room. “Well?”
“Well what?” Raphael snapped.
“Was she pleased to see you? Were you pleased to see your precious Little Mouse?” They smirked, tail swishing mischievously behind them.
“Shut up, Harlot.” He paused, glancing back at the door. “...She’s fine. Injured, but fine.” He glared back at the incubus, fire rising behind brown eyes. “And you are not to lay a single infernal finger on her without my approval.”
Haarlep stood, taking languid steps towards their conflicted master. “This room, the rules are mine.” Their voice was on the edge of a snarl, the hint of threat creeping in. “But as long as she does not enter, there will be no cause for you to worry about losing your favourite little toy to me.”
Raphael laughed. “Really? You think you are all she could desire? That sex alone is enough to satisfy a sharp mind and a sharper wit?”
The incubus glared back, the heat from their body rising to a palpable level even within Avernus. “And you assume that you are enough that she would turn down my offer? You shouldn’t be so greedy, Raphael, someone might get the impression that you actually care.”
“Don’t be absurd.” The cambion spat, ignoring even that his name had been spoken so easily.
Haarlep smirked. The test proved it. He was completely distracted, but that was also an insult in itself. “I’m not the one losing his cool over a wounded rodent.”
“I’ve lost nothing but time. She’s a tool, and a broken hammer can hardly forge my crown.” He lied, fooling nobody but himself, and even that deception was on shaky ground. “But time we shall have… If anyone in this house so much as-”
“Yes, yes, fire and brimstone, every dreadful torture you can think of~” They smirked again, clawed fingers gripping his chin as blazing eyes gave their challenge. “How about we work out some of that tension, Archduke, before you set something aflame.”
For a moment, Raphael faltered. Their breath hot against his lips, the enticing thought of everything they could do-
“No.” He pulled their hand away from his face, turning to walk away. “I have work to do. If that brat thinks he will get away with this…”
Haarlep watched him walk away, unsure whether the feeling stirring within them was frustration, jealousy, or perhaps they were simple impressed that their Rat was slowly taking everything she wanted so easily. They wondered if she even knew what she wanted, the kind of fire she was playing with… It didn’t matter. One way or another they would get what they wanted, too.
---
Tav rolled over, mumbling in her sleep again, hair clinging to the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. Unfortunately, the movement caught the splint on her leg in the sheets, pulling it at just the wrong angle and waking her with a hiss of pain. It took a moment to get her bearings again. These soft silks were a far cry from the rough blankets of the Elfsong, or the worn bedrolls they’d used camping rough across the Sword Coast. The heat and slight reddened hue of the surroundings reminded her where she was.
Avernus.
The House of Hope.
The pieces of reality slid back into place one by one, the puzzle making sense for the most part. Other than the image of Raphael’s human form, sat at a small desk to one side, shuffling through papers and marking them with a quill.
Strange, she thought as she peered over at him, surely this isn’t his usual office?
“Good morning, Little Mouse.” Raphael didn’t even look up, simply adjusting the small glasses balanced on his nose as he continued to mark and sign the parchment. “Rest well?”
“I…about as well as possible, I guess.” Tav rubbed the remnants of sleep from dry eyes, feeling her parched lips on the verge of splitting.
“There’s water next to you.” Again, without so much as a glance in her direction, but he seemed to know exactly what she needed.
“Thanks, Raphael.” She reached over and filled the glass from the condensation-coated jug, the slight clink of ice promising a more refreshing drink than expected. She wondered for a moment how often the ice was being remade for her benefit, but chose to pay it no mind. Questioning these comforts might lead them to end, after all.
“Gratitude, is it now?” Finally, he looked up over the rims of his glasses. “Not looking the gift horse in the mouth?”
“Well you made it clear last time, I know where I stand- Where I lay.” She corrected herself, allowing herself a slight smile as she took another sip of cold water. “Anything interesting?” She nodded at the stack of papers.
“Only boring contracts, Mouse, there is still so much to do.” He moved from one to the next, frowning and rubbing his brow. “If you really wish to be bored back to sleep, I can read them to you.”
“Why don’t you take a break? I’ve slept enough for one day, I think.” Tav moved herself carefully over to the side, smoothing down the covers to make a seat.
“I suppose I could indulge you for a moment, if you insist.” He laid his glasses on the stack of papers, sauntering across the room with the scent of his usual perfumes arriving a few steps ahead.
Warm, sweet, spiced… Tav quietly savoured the strange and familiar comfort that it brought, as he sat beside her, reaching towards her still bandaged arm. “It’s doing better.” She reassured him, but he gave her a pointed look instead.
“I will be the judge of that, Little Mouse.” He took hold of her wrist, but removed the dressing with a surprising amount of gentle care. “Better indeed. Move it.”
The command was simple, and hardly unexpected, but it was delivered with a cold bedside manner that stung. “Ah!” She winced as she flexed the joint. “Fuck…”
“Don’t be absurd, you mustn’t shy away from such a small pain.” Despite his words, he wrapped his hands around the joint, applying a little soft heat from his palms and rubbing soothingly. “You think that any of your foes will let you falter? Keep it moving. The bones are set, but you mustn’t lose motion or strength.”
“Well I’m not fighting right now…” She grumbled, but gradually moved it further, pushing the limits of the motion as the warmth of his hands sank deeper into the bones. She began to feel a hint of a different heat from his touch, from how close he was… She bit it back. Not the time, don’t even think of how he’s next to you in bed while you’re only wearing a nightgown.
—
Raphael held longer than was necessary, eyes lingering on the scars that were still fresh along her forearm. “Another potion. It will do no harm, and speed your recovery further. Then we will check on your leg.” His bedside manner still lacked the soft care of an experienced nurse, but by the standards of a fiend it was positively overbearing with affection. He grimaced internally. He was slipping. But no, it was all a part of the manipulation, to ensure his knight - no, his pawn - continued to play her role well.
The consideration of how a pawn can become a Queen should it reach the other side of the board completely escaped his notice too.
“This one.” He handed Tav the glass bottle, pulling out the stopper to save her the hassle of using her wrist.
“It isn’t poisonous then?” Her voice was playful, but she barely even took a moment to sniff or examine the potion before drinking it in one go. “Well, if it is, then it’s the nicest flavour of poison I’ve had in a while.”
“Do you make it a habit to drink toxic substances?” His eyebrow raised, but he relaxed more as he saw the relief wash over her face with the effects of the brew.
“Only the fun ones.” She laughed now, the soft music strange to his ears, but not distasteful. Perhaps he might like to hear more-
No. Focus. He chided himself. What foolish thoughts… “I wouldn’t recommend it, Little Mouse, you are not immortal.” Yet, his subconscious whispered, even as his conscious mind threatened to silence the thought for good. “Now. Your leg. The splint can likely come off now.” Business was easier, he decided, though he hadn’t entirely thought it through.
“Right… Well I suppose you’ve seen everything before.” Despite her bravado, a light blush began to appear on Tav’s cheeks as she lifted back the covers and moved to sit atop them. The nightdress reached to just below her knees, though the splint on her leg went from her shin to the middle of her thigh.
Raphael swallowed, his mouth feeling excessively dry. He cursed Haarlep under his breath, swearing the bitch must be up to something with the way he felt as he pushed the fabric up to reveal her still-healing wounds. “I will apply some pressure, you must tell me immediately if there is any pain. If the healer has not done proper duties, I shall have them flayed.”
—
“That’s a bit excessive.” She frowned a little, but didn’t really judge him. Expecting a fiend to be kind was more than foolish, his very nature would not allow it. And yet…
Tav winced, the bandage holding the splints in place unwinding slowly. She felt the warmth of his fingers every time they touched her skin, trying in vain not to think about how low he was, how close to her body, how they were already on a bed…
“Fuck-” She bit her lip, the pressure on the side of her knee still too much.
“Then you will still be unable to bear weight…” Raphael idly rubbed his chin in thought. “A balm, perhaps? Something more direct. Wait here.”
Tav watched as he stood and left the room, a swiftness in his step as he went. Is he always in such a hurry? Her pondering was disrupted by a fresh shot of agony as she tried to bend her leg. Right, right…probably better that he’s quicker. I won’t complain.
And yet…the space next to her felt like a cold void, now the cambion’s weight was not pressing a divot into the mattress. Only a lingering hint of his scent remained, and the slight heat upon the sheets. A sigh escaped her, there was a quiet need lingering in the back of her mind, compounded by the sudden longing from being left alone.
She wondered if she might ever understand him. His intentions, his motivations… Every time she thought she knew what he was doing, what he wanted, everything changed again.
Haarlep clearly wasn’t helping either. She wondered if they might be around, if perhaps they would be willing to keep her company when Raphael became inevitably busy once more. If anyone knew what was going through the devil’s mind, it would be them.
Her hand rested on the remnants of the warmth where he had been sat, eyes not leaving the door until it opened again.
—
Raphael’s feet carried him swiftly down hallways until he reached the cupboards he needed. It was pointless to waste energy on teleporting himself, but still he felt the need to hurry. If the incubus had tainted the potion… He would return to resolve that little problem before it could go further. He blinked away the image of her blushing body dressed in dark satin laying on the bed, and checked the labels of each jar carefully. The waters of the bathing pool could help, but if her leg could not take her weight… Carrying her was not an option, she deserved her dignit-
He deserved his dignity to not have to act like a servant to her whims.
His brow creased with frustration. Thoughts like unwelcome guests finding themselves swiftly evicted, yet returning through a back door before he could turn the key in the lock. This is all the harlot again, he reasoned, they have poisoned her and continue to toy with me without permission. He grumbled, turning quickly on his heel to go back to the room where she was waiting, laying on the bed-
I’m going to make them regret this.
—
Meanwhile, in the boudoir, a completely serene Haarlep was reclined on the bed simply reading a book. They turned the page, wondering what adventures the struggling heroes might find in the next paragraphs. They had absolutely no intention of interfering with whatever nonsense Raphael was engaging in, nor of playing with their favourite toy until she was healed. They knew better than that, they could be patient. Besides, they considered their complete lack of engagement to be a fitting punishment for the scorn of being turned down by their “Master”.
Ridiculous thought, that he would brush aside the advances of an incubus, refuse the touch that could have him whining in pleasure for hours on end.
No matter. They turned the next page, stubbornly ignoring the tell-tale footsteps in the corridor passing by their door without so much as a “hello”. They’ll both be back, in time. They hummed a little tune to themselves, pointedly rejecting any further thoughts of the room down the hallway.
---
The heavy door swung open swiftly on creaking hinges, closing just as quickly behind Raphael as he moved towards the bed.
She was laying where he left her, cheeks flush, lips slightly parted, hair still in disarray from sleep. Even the gown remained pushed up to her upper thigh, revealing her legs, the remnants of technicolour bruising beneath her pale skin.
Tav was an invitation like this, one he was loathe to accept for now…but clearly she could not be left unsated. Incubus saliva could be unbearable without a resolution to that painful arousal. It might even slow her recovery, which he would not allow.
The cambion approached the bedside, already removing the lid from the salve’s jar. He sat lower down beside her, body turned to face her. “Your permission, Mouse, I would like to hear it.”
“O-oh.” She stuttered for a moment, the tips of her pointed ears beginning to match the redness in her cheeks. “Of course. Do what you need to do, I trust you.”
His brow furrowed at those last three words. Of course that’s what he wanted, her trust, he was not in a habit of lying least of all to his favourite client. But hearing it? That was different. “Should you wish me to stop, you need only say the word. You understand?”
—
It was Tav’s turn to frown now. What was there to understand? It was a simple healing balm, nothing she hadn’t used before. She could easily apply it herself, but she was also loathe to argue with Raphael when he looked this serious. What she was not hearing, however, was the undercurrent to his words. She didn’t see the way his eyes travelled her body, gauging her reaction as he began to massage the balm over her wounds.
Not a drop of incubus saliva had passed her lips, by potion or otherwise, so she was blissfully oblivious to the cambion’s present concerns. Though, decidedly, the feel of his hands moving further up her leg had a very similar effect.
Feeling the soothing effects of the salve sinking in to her wounds brought a soft sigh from within her, the deeper massage of tender fingers colouring the sound with the hint of a moan. Seeing his eyes flash with a momentary flame was certainly not helping.
It would be hard to deny her own desire either, the thoughts that had passed through her mind in the few minutes he had been gone… Of course, some of those were remarkably close to the sight of brown hair descending towards her thighs-
—
Raphael could feel her melting beneath his hands, and his clothing felt tighter by the moment. He imagined the ghost of Haarlep’s fingers, gripping, teasing… He cursed their name under his breath, completely unaware that this was all entirely in his own mind. As was the concern that the potion had been tainted, though it was quite obvious that Tav was feeling as aroused as him.
Her skin tinted pink, warming more as he allowed his hands to wander, lowered his head towards her shin, lifted her leg and kissed below her knee. “Does it hurt here?”
She had gasped, but the noise was not one of discomfort, as she quickly confirmed. “N- no, it’s fine.”
Next he lifted her leg slowly, kissing around and under the joint now, right where her thigh began. “Here?”
Her head laid back on the pillows. “No pain…”
“Good, Little Mouse. Then let me continue, if I may?”
“Please-” Her voice was little more than a gasp, the heat rising from her body in a way that he could feel as he moved further up.
It was becoming more difficult to hold back. The cambion could almost taste her on the air already, the heady scent of arousal mingling with her usual perfume and the thicker scent of the salve that still lingered on his hands. He laid her leg back down on the sheets, moving now on to his hands and knees after a quick gesture transported his boots over to the side of the room. But he could not afford to be greedy, rough… He must protect his asset. A means to an end.
A very attractive means, dark hair splayed across the pillows, breasts straining the fabric just slightly as her breath quickened, deepened, chest rising and falling with increasing anticipation…
—
Tav felt the silk slip easily across her skin, shivering slightly though not from any chill. Raphael was…not how she remembered. The times they’d been together before now were hot, feverish, filled with a sense of desperate urgency that made pulse soar and her head light. This…was almost a different man. Though at the same time, not at all.
The same chestnut hair neatly swept back, the same scents of cherry, black pepper, palmarosa…a strong and spiced mix that didn’t lack sweetness. The same intense look in his eyes, as if a fire burned silently behind his pupils even in this human form.
The cambion was being careful. That was obvious. And a part of her wished he wouldn’t, that instead of sliding her nightdress up slowly, heated fingers brushing lightly against her skin, that he would rip it from her, or burn it up with a wave of magic from his hands. Most of all, she simply, silently, desperately pleaded for him not to stop.
He did not.
Wordlessly he curled a finger around her underwear, the smallest flame burning away the seam so the garment could be removed without needing to pass sore joints and bruised muscles.
Soft eyes looked up at her again, a question in a single raised brow, one she answered with a simple motion to pull her nightdress further up her body to reveal her waist fully. Raphael smiled, looking pleased with her response, before dipping his head lower to kiss along her stomach, lips pressing on her soft body with delicate affection.
Tav bit down on her lip as those same hands began to tease her. This was a different game to him, she realised, as he merely stroked his fingertips with the lightest pressure. It might have felt ticklish, but it built the heat and tension within her, muscles tightening in anticipation.
—
Raphael could feel her arousal easily. His fingers already slick and hot, her body shivering beneath his lips as he continued to kiss softly along her waist. Maybe he might’ve preferred her quivering with fear beneath him, perhaps a shot of liquor in her naval, savouring the mixture of terror and arousal he could raise within her… But she was not scared. Neither was she courageous.
She was simply accepting of his touch, inviting more with the sweet little moans from her lips, telling him without words that she wanted more, needed more, by pressing her body towards him every time he tried to move away.
“So greedy, Little Mouse, and I thought you were supposed to be recovering your strength?” He raised his eyebrow, peering up once more at her face and trying to work out exactly what it was he was seeing. Prey? A pawn? …a lover? Ha! Ridiculous. But she plays the part well… So if it is theatre she wants, then the show must go on.
“I have enough strength-” she replied, or at least tried to when her voice was cut short with a gasp. Raphael smiled, it had only taken a single finger to steal her words from that pretty little throat. The second brought a prettier sound, barely a syllable drawn out in a prolonged moan.
“You were saying?” His smile widened. Had it always been so easy to bring out the desire in her? Or was this just the potion, and Haarlep’s influence… His ego bristled. It wasn’t Haarlep here now, curling fingers inside her, feeling her muscles tighten and quiver every time his lips pressed to her body. This was no incubus sweetening the noise lingering in the air with slow thrusts in and out, the mere mimicry of what he could offer later…
“Please-” She gasped above him, the sound of desperation only adding to his own arousal. “Please, more…”
Turning the offer down was unthinkable. It might’ve been better had she begged for something else, but his own lust was thrumming through the pulse in his eardrums, and he had his pride of course. What kind of devil couldn’t even satisfy one mere mortal? Naturally, it would always be harder to satisfy Haarlep, the bitch was practically made for sex and pleasure, but Tav…her body was easier to manipulate, seeing her melt into his hands was simple. Besides, wasn’t her first encounter with Haarlep in the hopes it was him all along?...
—
Tav hadn’t expected to be doted on, far less to have the devil himself kissing soft lines along the ridge of her hip towards where his fingers were already working her into a frenzy. She bit her lip, trying in vain to steady her breath, but already losing herself to the sensations before his tongue flickered across her nerves.
“Fuck-” She hissed out a single word as her head pressed back into the pillows, gripping the sheets as he increased the intensity of his motions.
His tongue moved in the shape of infernal runes, drawing out a false contract of her pleasure, pulling every sane thought from her head and replacing it with a white hot rush that coursed through her veins. As she tipped over the edge of pleasure’s precipice, her moan was tainted by a cry of pain as her shaking body twisted her still-healing joints.
The cambion’s free hand moved to hold her still as he continued to draw out the stimulation, dragging out the afterglow relentlessly, though ensuring the warmth on his palm was soothing the pain.
By the time she was able to breathe more evenly, she realised he had simply sat back, caressing her leg once more, adding a little more balm over the worst parts. He was even still fully dressed, making her feel all the more exposed.
“Aren’t you too warm?” She asked, already realising how ridiculous the question was as it floated out into the air between them. She cursed her orgasm-fogged mind for the betrayal.
“Have you truly forgotten where you are, Mouse? Who you are addressing?” He shifted a little, kneeling upright above her. “I only look like a human when I wish to, you are well aware of my true nature.”
The brief scent of burning sulphur flashed in the air with the infernal fire that swirled around him for a split second, revealing a larger body, red skin, a crown of horns rising above his head almost as high as the wings that splayed out behind him. He remained, as he was before, fully dressed in his silks. His tail twitched in irritation, tapping on the sheets.
—
“Whatever shall we do with you? You seem to have lost your mind entirely.” Raphael smiled sweetly, a complete façade as he took up his role as the saviour to relieve his poor little prey of the problem that Haarlep had created. “Would you feel more comfortable if I were less dressed, Little Mouse?”
Her eyes widened just slightly, stoking his ego. “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable? Those look…tight…” Her eyes drifted down, his clothes tightened further as it wasn’t just his ego expanding.
His wings stretched up further, the pride swelling in his chest. “What kind of host would I be to deny my guest a proper view?” The magic worked in a matter of moments, layers of finery dissolving like smoke, reappearing neatly folded on a chair near his boots.
The cambion felt every part the saviour he intended to be, even as he loomed over her like a predator about to swoop down upon his prey. His fiendish form was larger, taller, and more intimidating… He often chose to remain in human shape around mortals, lulling them in to a false sense of security before revealing his more devilish nature for dramatic effect. There was nothing he loved more than feeling the swell of fear within a mortal heart when he grew above them, surrounded by hellfire.
But there was no such trepidation from his Little Mouse… He could almost see why Haarlep called her Rat, now, the way her eyes took in all of his form, her body carefully moving to make more space for him. Bold. Too bold, perhaps.
It was an invitation. The part of the gentleman saviour was one of pageantry, of etiquette, so the dance must continue now that he was dressed the part. Although…
A wave of his hand and her nightdress was upon the same chair as his own clothes. An observer who wasn’t clouded by lust or shielded from the view by large red wings might recognise the subconscious choice to put their clothes together to be entirely too intimate for a devil and his client, but the two upon the bed had no such awareness now.
—
Raphael’s body cast a looming shadow over Tav, the light filtering through the thinner skin over his wings in a way that made the almost look as if they were glowing. His eyes were aflame, the full blaze within them clear and glowing as they swept across her body. She shivered involuntarily as he lowered towards her, hands finding purchase either side of her shoulders.
“What do you long for, Little Mouse? Tell me.” His lips were close to her ear now, his voice sending shivers down her spine, stomach tying itself in swift knots from the feel of his body so close to hers yet not touching.
“I didn’t think you to be so slow in taking what you wanted, Raphael.” A little more of her boldness was returning, the itch to rile him up, to push him into acting how she wanted…but he wasn’t taking the bait.
“Now, now, what kind of hero would I be to break you before you’ve even healed? No, that would not do at all. Do not think me a brute purely because of the actions of an unruly incubus, they will be punished for their indiscretion in due course.” Somewhere in another room, a red tail twitched with irritation it didn’t understand the cause of, while clawed hands turned the page of their book.
Tav didn’t understand either, why he was bringing up Haarlep when they were alone. “I remember,” she whispered into his ear, “the first time you visited me. In what I thought was just a dream… You danced like a prince.”
“And you, Mouse, spoke with no such grace or respect for one you would crown with such a title.” The choice of words was very deliberate, alluding to a contract yet to be agreed upon.
“You’re right…Prince doesn’t quite suit you.” She reached up to caress his horns, her other hand running along the top edge of his wing, watching the lines in his face soften unexpectedly at the care. “You already have a crown, a cloak, and a great deal of power. It’s…impressive.” She brought down the hand that had been running over the ridges of his horns, instead tracing along his jaw to bring his lips to hers.
“Flattery, Little Mouse, might get you somewhere, but I still want my real crown.” His voice was quieter, softer, lips a hair’s breadth away almost tickling her as he spoke.
“Later…we can discuss that later.” She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him in to a deep and passionate kiss. She didn’t want to think about contracts, or crowns, or tadpoles in her head. All she wanted was to feel , and there was no better way to lose yourself in sensation than to pull a fiend into your bed.
—
Tav had once again thrown the proud demon off his balance, making moves on the board with rules he had never considered. The game was not his to outmanoeuvre her if she continued to nudge the table. He should really lay down the rules properly, enforce them, remind her who had the upper hand…but the taste of her lips…the feel of her tongue trying to devour her own essence that lingered on his own…
Now he was in his fiendish form her body seemed even smaller, softer. She didn’t lack strength of course, even now as one of his hands traversed the length of her arm from the shoulder down to her delicate wrist, the lines of well honed muscles lay just beneath pale skin. His wings spread above her even as he avoided the deeper bruising, guiding her hands above her head. It was like a shield, a protective canopy, she was beneath him and only him. He would fill her vision, fill her mind, fill her-
“I will not hold you here,” he pressed a light kiss to her wrist before guiding it back above her head, laying her hands together, “it’s too soon, and healers are expensive for complex injuries. So you will have to obey me instead. You say I have power? Then prove it, show how much power I have over you, and keep your hands right there.”
He looked down, expecting to see her eyes defiance glaring back at him, but instead they were half closed, lips parted, breathing just two words. “Yes, Raphael.”
Simple. It’s what he demanded of her, it’s what he wanted to hear, but hearing it? That hit a different chord. His tail shivered behind him, the feeling foreign but arousing. Did he want her to fight? Would he prefer it? Or was this deep trust unnerving again?... She knows she is mine, he reasoned, it’s about time, too.
Leaving her arms unbound above her head, he moved his hand back down her body - his other arm still supporting his body easily, holding himself above her where she could see him but not yet feel him. He guided her thigh up a little, shifting lower as the greed within him rose. The need to have her, to feel her, to take her…
—
Raphael’s teasing had built the lust in her body to a fever pitch. Tav could feel her body burning with longing, desperate for him to finally make his move. And yet, he remained slow, gentle. Caring , in such a way as a devil could be if he so wished.
She realised he was different on his own, without Haarlep baiting him, pushing him. She bit her lip as he began to enter her, slowly, taking his time. Her breath left her in a slow exhale, feeling the stretch and heat building with every deliciously agonising second, the ridges adding friction to the equation, the sum total being a deeply satisfying feeling of being completely filled.
Tav wanted to speak, to spur him on to move, to reach down and pull his body closer…but that command echoed in her ears. His blazing eyes, the way his horns and wings loomed above her - there was a power there. It hadn’t all been mindless ego-stroking.
She groaned with the sensation as he pulled back slowly, ridges catching on muscles that strained to pull him in, her voice only raising louder as he thrust back into her. The pace he kept, it was maddening…the intensity of every motion, the way he moved his hips and watched her every reaction. If he didn’t care for her pleasure, it would be simple to thrust in and out at his own pace until he was done, but he was more than just attentive.
Every single movement was lighting her on fire from the inside. The sound of the cambion’s own deep and seductive voice escaping as he felt her tightening, pulsing-
It was getting harder and harder to keep her arms where he put them. She wanted to touch him, to feel his body above her instead of just watching… She imagined an invisible force holding her, focused more on the gathering rush building deeper inside as he began to let his avarice take over.
—
Raphael felt every wave of her pleasure, and had long since forgotten to realise that Haarlep had not done a single thing to influence him. Everything he felt was entirely from within this room, from within her . Another time he might have preferred more, to go further, to tease her and draw it out, to mix in some pain and power-
She had enough pain, and watching her face flush pink and wanting, hearing her gasps and moans from undiluted pleasure… It was a wine he was willing to sip today. She was allowing him power, giving herself over to him completely, and everything he drew from her was his alone.
He tried to hold back a little, but the feeling of her around him was intoxicating. The scent of her skin, the way she bit her lip, the tightening as he hit just the right places-
His voice caught between a moan and a growl as the rush overtook him. The cambion pulsed inside her, continuing to thrust as her own climax had her crying out into the otherwise quiet room. Perhaps the incubus even heard them now, and the thought of the Harlot being jealous sweetened the waves of aftershock as he rode them out with her, relishing the ragged gasps as her mind and body were filled only with what he gave her.
Tav was shaking as he finally withdrew. Her hair even more of a mess beneath her head, and her hands still exactly where he told her to keep them. “Good, Little Mouse, good~” his voice rumbled through his chest with a pleased purr, “you may move now, when you are ready.”
She relaxed her arms a little, her uninjured hand moving a single stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes and tucking it gently behind his horns. “Why are you really taking such care of me?”
“I told you before,” he sighed, wondering how she still did not understand. “You are my favourite client, my path to what I need…” He paused. That wasn’t all. “And in my own way, I enjoy our time together.”
—
Tav blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, and the blindly logical part of her brain quickly rationalised the honesty away. Ah, enjoyed, as in pleasure. The sex is good. That makes sense.
Her body still felt a weak and limp as he moved from above her, wrapping the silk sheets around her naked body and lifting her up in his arms, holding her close against his chest as if she were a bride about to be carried across the threshold.
“Raphael?” She peered up into his fiery eyes, confused again.
“We must get you clean, Mouse, and I will not have sullied eyes gaze upon you. Until you are able to walk on your own, I will indulge you…but I expect you to try after you have bathed in the healing pool.” He was trying to sound stern, but it came across as a better bedside manner than the expensive healer he had hired.
—
Haarlep looked up over the top of their novel, raising an eyebrow at the master of the house carrying his charge into the room wrapped in sullied sheets, whilst the devil himself remained completely naked.
“Finally, you’ve decided to come and play-” they began, but were quickly cut off.
“No, you’ve done quite enough for one day Harlot. She needs to recover, and I shall accept no more interference from you. I suggest you sit quietly and contemplate the punishment you have earned.” His voice was stern, dripping with venom, but quiet. Tav was already half asleep, exhausted already.
Haarlep took the hint and kept their reply barely above a whisper. “What I’ve done? I haven’t done a single thing, Archduke , in fact I had considered the very fact that I’ve kept entirely to myself as my punishment to you for denying me.” They gave him an even more pointed look, sitting back and going back to their book. “But it hardly seems like you even need me, you have your prize, now leave me to my story. They’re just getting to the good bit.”
Raphael paused. He stood dumbfounded, completely at a loss for words. If there had been no tainted potion, no influence on his own body-
It would take days for the effects of those realisations to truly sink in, longer than it took Tav to fully recover. He didn’t even notice the longing when she waved goodbye and stepped through the portal back to the material realm…
Avernus felt colder than it should, the halls of the House of Hope suddenly larger and emptier than they had been before.
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ENDING NOTES
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This one will fit very nicely into the ATG storyline I just need to work out where, either that or it'll hint towards a potential alternate ending path instead. Either way I very much enjoy toying with a softer side to Raphael, exploring his reluctance and denial in greater depth, along with the ways that both Haarlep and Tav can push him out of his comfort zone.
@soft-raphael !!! best url in the world!!!! i just??? man i love raphael so much he’s so good can u believe it??? anyway!!! you are so awesome! you are so lovely and so kind and good and just!!! all around really great and amazing. you’re great to talk to and a good friend and i love your whole blog. also your writing is so good omg ur just! so awesome and talented all around
