#the scent of cinnamon

[tavyliasin]

The Scent of Cinnamon 4 - The Morning, The Tailor, and The Fit of the Glove

Raphael wakes up to the consequences of the deal he made the night before, and realises Haarlep has no clothes to wear save for his own which are somehow a poor fit on his copied body. A trip to Waterdeep sparks more conflict as the two fiends begin to find their places with each other, pushing each others boundaries. Haarlep also has to reckon with the consequences of their end of the bargain, with shadows of their past biting at their heels. 5,139 Words - AO3 Link Click Here

--- Summary: The pair head out to Waterdeep to a tailor who can make something for Haarlep to wear other than Raphael's old clothes that feel like a poor fit on the incubus' borrowed body. Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 0.5/5  Content Warnings: Mild Power Play, Mild Angst,

Spoilers Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance The mention of a certain mad mage should match up roughly to the time he was actively in Waterdeep. But even the official lore is inconsistent on that one so we're running Rule of Cool. Also, the perfume is the exact canon scent according to 2 pieces of in game lore (Yurgir saying Raphael smells of cherry, and a letter of Raphael's that carries the scent of Palmarosa and Black Pepper in his perfume) Other Notes This is really to explore the dynamics between the two as they get to know each other outside the boudoir...don't worry, they'll be back there soon enough.

Song Pairing Everything You Hate by Project Vela "Looks like the time has come to pull the plug on the weak Your independence gone, control is not what it seems It's time to rise up and take it into the streets The life support is cut, the transformation complete

My actions don't seem so clean You're out there pulling the strings Anything any cage that couldn't hold Has escaped and it's out of your control Everything you ever hoped that you could be Only exists in a fake reality

You and I are one and the same One reflection bound by different names Recognised that you have become everything you hate Everything you hate"

--- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT --- ---

The Morning, The Tailor, and The Fit of the Glove

Raphael stirred in his sleep, suddenly aware of an unfamiliar weight resting on his leg. It felt like his tail was draped over something too, yet there was nothing beneath when he tested moving it. The awareness of his own body began to spread through his consciousness, piece by piece. There were ghosts where aches might have been, even if pain had healed his muscles still felt the echoes of whatever it was he had-

Whoever it was. And that who was snoring quietly on the pillow beside him, their tail draped over his leg, their hand resting lightly on his waist. 

The previous day came rushing back as the last vestiges of a far more peaceful dream were banished from the cambion’s reeling mind. His eyes blinked open to see exactly what he was dreading: the imperfect mirror of his own face, a slight smile tugging at the corners of copied lips, but a different scent drifting on their warm breath.

Cinnamon. 

Ah. That was it. The incubus and their deal, the contract signed in ink and in lust, his body the very page that they had inscribed their presence upon. 

Raphael almost expected their eyelids to reveal the vivid emerald as they began to slowly open, but instead there was only the infernal fire burning around their pupils as they met his gaze.

“Mmm~ I could get used to this~” They purred, stretching their wings lazily behind them before pulling the sheets closer around them.

The cambion already felt his ire rising. He might have invited this…this…Harlot to his bed, but that did not give them the right to treat it like a luxury resort. He kicked his leg free of their tail and threw the covers off the pair of them as he forced his exhausted body out of the comfort and warmth of the night.

“Five more hours~” Haarlep pulled the sheets back over them, covering their face, but not before he caught the hint of a grin spreading across it.

“Petulant creature.” Raphael waved his hands in a swift motion, a few brief words tugging the threads of the Weave into ripping the covers from the incubus’ grip, tossing them out of reach on the floor. 

“Spoilsport.”  They groaned, brows furrowing and the fire in their eyes flashing dangerously as they scowled at him. “I am the one with the power in this room, by your own contract’s terms.” 

“And do you wish to spend your days in here completely nude?” Raphael was already pulling on the fresh clothes that had been set aside for him. A modest outfit, but one that nonetheless showed his figure. “Or will you concede that you need at least one outfit you feel comfortable in? My clothes will fit you, but I suspect they are not to your taste.”

“Clothing is hardly a necessity for my line of work~ Do you not like what you see, Archduke?” It seemed the incubus had no intention of ceasing their insulting nickname, a completely transparent attempt to rile him up. “Made to your very own specifications, no less! Aren’t you curious what it might feel like to-”

“No.” He snapped, turning away as he continued to fuss over the fastenings of his shirt, frustrated by his fingers refusing to obey him. He wasn’t ready to accept that the incubus was flustering him, even the shadow of that thought entering his mind was more infuriating than the sound of their voice. His voice. Not his voice… They were like an echo, distorted by the landscape it ricocheted from. Within every word, he could still hear-

—

“Let me help you, then.” Haarlep had grown tired of trying to cling to the comforts of silk sheets for now. Their lips just brushed the pointed tip of Raphael’s ear as they wound their arms around his waist to fix the fastenings he was having such trouble with. “There. Not that difficult, was it?~” The cambion shivered at their touch, stepping quickly away from where their naked body had pressed against his back, but their tail wound around his wrist to turn him back to face them. “Could you not-” 

“Wait.” They cut him off again, firm yet soft. His collar was crooked… The incubus carefully straightened the piece, pulling the ruffles into place and ensuring they were even. “The master of the house has appearances to keep up, does he not?” 

“Quite so.” Raphael clawed back his dignity with the reply, reaching forward to fix Haarlep’s hair, even though they both well knew that not a strand was out of place. “You will have to wear something for now. Wait here.” 

Haarlep watched as he strode confidently to an old armoire, searching through a variety of finery that was neatly pressed and stored within. It seemed most of the options were objectionable, until he pulled out a simple outfit in a near-black tone. It would have looked absurdly severe on the cambion himself, a poor match for the line of his jaw or the hint of apprehension in the expression above it. “It will do, for now.” 

“Beggars, Harlot, make for poor choosers.” He held it out at arm’s length, clearly trying to avoid the ire in the incubus’ gaze.

“The day I beg you for anything, all of Avernus will be colder than Cania.” Haarlep snatched the outfit from the cambion’s claws, quick to remind him in every moment of his place in this room, loathe to leave the one space they retained control. 

“Perhaps if you play your role well, you will have no need to do anything more than ask.” Raphael turned away, as if to give them privacy to put on their clothes. An absurd notion at this point, but nevertheless they began to dress as he continued. “We have our deal, there is no reason for us to be adversaries, you know.”

“Hmmm maybe so,” Haarlep wound their arms around his waist again, half dressed but their shirt still open, claws teasing at his hips as they held him close. “But it’s so much more fun to feel you squirm like this~” 

“Degenerate.”  Raphael’s tail swung around and whipped their thigh - hard enough to be felt, but not to hurt. He gasped. “Mmmm harder~” Haarlep moaned in his ear, relishing at the shiver they felt beneath their fingertips, drifting lower already. “You won’t even feel the pain, just the pleasure.”

—

The cambion shuddered. They were right, he felt a brief but clear rush of heat… “Absurd.” He lied.

“There’s the trick, Archduke,” Haarlep purred, the bitch dropping to an even more seductive tone. The imitation of his voice barely sounded familiar, the tone of their previous voice snaking through his senses far stronger while he couldn’t see them behind him. “It’s only arousing because your body likes it. The pleasure I feel is yours, in more ways than one. Don’t you want to try it out? Find the limits of your own debauchery-” 

“We are going to be late if you don’t stop this nonsense.” Another lie, though this one was more believable than the last. The tailor would wait as long as necessary, he had enough of a hold on them that they would not consider turning him away even if he marched them out of bed to sew a ballgown in the middle of the night. “Fine~ Have it your way.” Their touch left him immediately, his body suddenly colder for the lack of their warmth pressing against him. It took conscious effort to stop his tail from reaching out to find them. “Then tell me, if we are to rush to this appointment of yours… Will this suffice?” 

Raphael turned around to take a look at the incubus dressed in an outfit he had not considered wearing in decades. It was a little tight on them, and the shirt had been left half open to expose part of their chest in a way that had no right to be so tempting. Their tail was twitching impatiently, yet their wings spread behind them as they struck a swift pose and flashed him a grin. He turned away again, reluctant to look any longer in case their eyes alone drew him closer. Outside the room he would be in control again…at least on the surface. “Come.”

“Hah! I’m not that easy-” 

“You know precisely what I meant.” He stepped beyond the door and into the hallway, subconsciously standing a little taller and straighter as he wore the power of his title like a monarch’s cloak. “Hurry up.” 

—

Haarlep followed Raphael through the House until they arrived at a room with a shimmering portal, several short steps leading up to it. 

“An easier method of transportation, no point in wasting energy on magic when permanent spells can be cast.” The cambion waved dismissively towards the huge arch and the warped reality within it. 

“And where, precisely, does it lead?” Haarlep eyed it suspiciously, unwilling to play a game of ‘follow-the-leader’ without at least some idea of whether they would be treading the ice fields of Cania or the muddy streets of a Halfling village.  “Waterdeep.” Raphael replied simply, stepping forwards and stopping just short to beckon them to hurry. “I did not take you for one so hesitant.” “And I did not take you for someone to rely on mortals for your tailoring.” They didn’t bother to keep the disdain from their voice, although they did step obediently forwards all the same.

“One more thing,” the cambion turned to face them, a swift casting of a spell rendering them completely invisible. “You are not permitted to speak until we arrive.” 

Haarlep pursed their lips, hands forming some swift and unsavoury gestures to spell out their displeasure without any verbal component.

“I can see invisibility, Haarlep. Know your place.” Without further warning, Raphael transformed his body to his human guise - clothes shifting to fit the smaller frame - and walked through the portal.

—

The room was dusty and poorly kept, despite Raphael’s strict instructions - he made a note in the back of his mind to have stronger words with the diabolist maintaining his portal in what should have been the upper floors of a well kept mansion. Boxes were piled to the sides, half open and half labelled in scrawled handwriting. 

“That looks like the writing of a madman.” Haarlep’s shimmering form stood beside him, peering at one of the boxes. “Not entirely inaccurate,” Raphael ceded the point, but not without irritation. “You were, however, told explicitly to be silent.” 

“First, we have ‘arrived’, so you should be more specific if you mean another destination.” The whisper of their smirk was more audible through their tone than it was visible on their face as he felt a dull ache nagging at the back of his skull. “But that aside, this place is clearly uninhabited. There’s no risk of being discovered.”

“Must I train you in both manners and obedience?” He turned to face the warped space that concealed Haarlep’s insolent form from most onlookers. 

“Hardly necessary. Besides,” they stepped close, strong hands taking a grip of his jaw and moving his mouth with their words. “If you move those lips just right it will seem as if you’re the one talking, given how you have burdened me with your own voice.” 

Raphael swatted their hands away, fixing his hair and collar quickly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “If I must remind you to behave once more, you will live in that outfit for your first decade. Or perhaps you would rather never leave that room, if you are so hellbent on retaining your control? I do not have to cross the threshold, nor do I have to send anyone in to sate your needs unless I choose to.” 

—

Haarlep bristled. They knew that he had power and control, that both of their deals now bound them to him with all the fine print that came with it, but they had not considered that the young and overconfident fiend would…would… 

—

Raphael faltered. He could feel the tension, the change in their demeanour in an instant. They still stood behind him wearing his body, but it now seemed like a poorer fit on them than the clothing that groaned at the seams. Even their stature seemed to shrink back in that moment, the unseen shadow of their presence retreating.

An unusual sense scratched the back of his mind. Guilt? Unthinkable. And yet… 

“I am no tyrant, incubus. Stick to your word and I shall be true to mine. But no more words for now, not until I dispel the invisibility shrouding your form.” He began to lead the way, loathe to waste any more time. Halaster could be reprimanded later for leaving the portal in such a state. 

—

It took half an hour before they reached their destination. The sun was far too bright, the incubus cursing that invisible wings could do nothing to stop the wretched beams from searing their eyes. Haarlep kept quiet for the remainder of the journey, following carefully in step behind Raphael, wings and tail tucked in so they would not catch a passer-by unawares.

For his part, the cambion acted much as a human noble might. He strolled down the streets as if he owned them and all who walked through them. Every now and then, he stopped to greet someone, to slip a note into a hand, or to show his disdain or appreciation for the quality of goods on market stalls. 

But for their own part, Haarlep was an invisible shadow. They stalked behind him with heavy steps as if their own feet fit as poorly as the boots upon them. Every now and then, they stopped with him to adjust their shirt, to rub at their head from the weight of the horns above, or to swallow back the worry that he might decide to leave them locked up to starve after all. 

The bell of the shop rang with a disgustingly joyful tinkling, crinkling their nose into a grimace. Luckily, they were able to fix their expression into something more neutral as Raphael removed the invisibility spell that kept them hidden. 

“So,” the tiefling shopkeeper peered over her glasses, “this is what all the fuss is about?”

“Uphold your bargain and you will find your competitor out of business by the end of the tenday.” Raphael replied, before gesturing towards the incubus. “They require proper clothing. Should you supply something that meets their needs, you will have my repeat business.” 

“Surely someone in one of the hells would be a more appropriate choice to dress a devil such as yourself.” She shrugged, stepping around the counter nonetheless. Her outfit, Haarlep noted, was plain but well fitted. A measuring tape was draped around her shoulders, and numerous pins were strategically held in the apron of her dress along with a couple of pouches holding scissors and threads. 

“They are not me. Which is information that will not be leaving this room, unless you particularly relish the idea of centuries in the hells as a pathetic lemure.” His voice left no room for argument, a confidence that seemed a strong contrast to the whimpering and begging mess he had been at the end of the previous night. Haarlep watched closely. They had a role as a spy to uphold, after all. 

“They look exactly like you.” The tailor walked around Haarlep now, assessing them in a way that felt far too much like their first meeting with Raphael the day before. Their tail flicked behind them, still unused to the smooth tip in place of the arrowhead shape of their own body. Their body…which now seemed more like an outfit that had been zipped up into a neat little bag and stored away in a locked closet out of their reach. But he had the key. That’s all that mattered.

“You need new glasses, they look nothing like me.” Raphael’s absurd response snapped Haarlep back out of their thoughts. He transformed swiftly into his fiendish appearance, and gestured to the incubus as the tiefling looked back and forth between the two. “See? The ruse would only fool someone who lacks insight.” 

The tiefling seemed to agree to appease him as she began to take notes on the fittings in a small book from her pocket. Haarlep, on the other hand, was stuck on his words. They were a near perfect copy, they knew that. The deal they made was important, and they had made sure to memorise his body as carefully as he had theirs…though perhaps… His eyes met theirs for a moment, a light hint of a blush behind already crimson cambion cheeks. 

—

“You should undress.” The tailor stepped back and gestured to a partitioned area of the store, as Raphael pulled his gaze from the incubus’ blazing eyes. 

He was perplexed. How did she not see the obvious differences? This wasn’t a mirror before him - not quite. He swore he could see the green in the depths of their eyes, the curve of their jaw and shape of their ears a little sharper of an angle than his own. The way they moved was certainly no copy, either… That would need some work later, he decided. The sway of their hips was decidedly too seductive-

“You didn’t tell me what you want me to make for them.” The tiefling was eyeing him over the rim of her glasses. “There was all the rush to be available immediately, but as you are unsatisfied with them wearing your own clothes I assume it is to be something different. Something bespoke.” 

“What do you think?” Raphael looked down at her, for a moment forgetting to choose his words more carefully to keep the power balance strongly in his favour.

“Clothes have a purpose, Raphael. They must not only fit the wearer, but be appropriate for the role they must fill. One who is your copy, yet is not supposed to fill your usual role? I need more information than that.” She tapped her pen on her notebook, not bothering to turn around as Haarlep stepped out from behind the screen in only the loose silken underwear he’d given them. Even those seemed like a terrible match…

“Start from the undergarments. My outer clothes will suffice for any other needs for a time.” He gestured over to the incubus standing proudly, and almost entirely naked, in the middle of the shop. 

—

“Arms out.” The tiefling was clearly unperturbed by Haarlep’s almost naked form as they followed her instruction, mildly amused at the little stepladder she had to use to reach their shoulder. Raphael had taken a seat over to one side, watching closely but mostly leaving the woman to her work.

“If he told you to work from undergarments, why do you need the measure of my arms?” They couldn’t help but feel perplexed by her choice.

“It would be a shame to cover you up, what with all these muscles,” she cast a tentative glance at Raphael for a moment though he seemed not to care in the slightest, “but clothing doesn’t just cover. The right garments can enhance what you have instead.” 

Haarlep laughed, the first genuine moment of amusement all day breaking the tension that had been eating at the back of their mind. “I assure you, I do not need any of my anatomy to be enhanced.” They licked their lips seductively and glanced down. “I can prove it, if you like~” 

“Not here, Harlot.” Raphael snapped, earning their impudent tongue-out expression as a response. “Just…work with her. Find something you would be comfortable in.” 

Their expression changed just as quickly again, switching to one of quiet contemplation. Comfort? He hadn’t been concerned with their comfort before now. Even in his sleep, it had been a fight to keep enough of the sheets to cover themselves. The contract had been business, the deal itself pleasure, and all they shared since was…confusing was about the only way they could describe it.

“What would you like? Are there any materials or styles you prefer? Or is there a particular look you wish to emulate?” The tiefling had largely ignored their quips and offer, measuring their chest and waist easily, now wrapping the tape around their hips. 

“Leather has its appeal…” Haarlep considered the options, the purpose they would have in Raphael’s deals. “Something close fitting - cover as little as you can - and it must project power.” Their eyes flashed across to their Master, as he would call his role, who remained nonplussed…aside from the momentary flick of his tail betraying a hint of the thoughts behind his calm expression.

“Is that agreeable?” The tailor turned to Raphael herself now, looking for his approval as the one purchasing the garments.

“Whatever they want. I will reserve my judgement for when I see the look complete.” Even his voice was measured and calm. “Do you have everything you need?” 

“Yes, yes. That will do.” She finished measuring their inner leg with a quick and practised motion, avoiding any intimate contact much to Haarlep’s disappointment. They were wondering if the cambion might squirm in his seat if they let themselves get a little excited by the simple touch-

“Go and get dressed again. There is more to do.” Raphael distracted them from their amused thoughts. It was hard not to roll their eyes at his tone, but they held their reaction in check for now. 

Until they could be certain, until they had proof of what he was really going to be like… They didn’t want to test their luck. Though they were sated now - the deal had been more than an adequate feast - their body still remembered hunger. Their nerves recalled too easily how they could ache if left untouched, unfed. Their heart was far too familiar with the hurt of trying to get by with nothing but their name and a bare shred of hope that they were still pretty enough to secure a meal...

And now they didn’t even have that name, nor the body they cared for so carefully to ensure they wouldn’t starve.

The clothes they pulled on behind the screen once more felt as ill-fitting as their skin, laced with those same clashing scents that Raphael wore to cover the hint of the infernal that lingered around any who travelled in and out of the hells. 

At least that was something they might be able to change.

—

Raphael paid the tailor an advance for the materials, tracking in his mind exactly which pawns he would need to move to ensure the rest of that deal was upheld. Behind him, the incubus seemed just as uncomfortable as they had been in front of the portal, when he had snapped at them. 

He sighed and rubbed at the wrinkle forming at the bridge of his nose. He would need to be more careful with how he treated the spy. It didn’t matter much what Mephisto found out from them, but if he were to be so foolish as to allow himself to spend the night naked and vulnerable with them again… A shudder crept uninvited down his spine as he cast the invisibility upon them once more. That was dangerous. Foolish. If he were to die here in the streets of Faerun it would be little more than a painful inconvenience. He would simply reappear in Avernus.

But if he were to be slain in the hells? 

He pushed the thought from his mind, resolving himself to be more careful. Haarlep must know their place, but should not be backed into a corner. They were strong, cunning, and they were likely to learn more of his own weaknesses by living in his body. 

“Before we go,” they almost startled him, unseen hand on his shoulder and voice quiet near his ear, “I should like to stop at a perfumery.” 

“And why would that be?” Raphael hissed back, pausing with his hand on the door.

“Your fragrance… It isn’t quite right. There are too many scents in there battling for dominance. You should have something complex, but not overwhelming.” Haarlep didn’t sound insulting, despite the implications of their words. 

It took barely a moment to cast Sending, projecting his voice to their mind and allowing the reply to come back to him silently from their thoughts. Perhaps conversing might be acceptable like this, especially on his own terms as he would have to initiate each part. 

—

It took a while to find a place that Haarlep approved of. Raphael even seemed willing to indulge them in a little more casual conversation as they walked, the sendings passing back and forth. In truth, the first shop might have been truly atrocious but the second was more than acceptable. Yet here they were, at the door to the fifth.

“Please tell me this one is good enough for you. I have contracts to write and precious little time to waste on further frivolous ventures.” Somehow Raphael always seemed to use up every one of the 25 words the spell allowed, his voice echoing in their head. 

For a moment, Haarlep wondered if their reply would sound like they did now, the echo of Raphael’s own deep tones filtering into his mind like his own thoughts betraying him, or perhaps… “It seems like it will suffice. As long as nobody tries to spray you as soon as you walk through the door. Again.” 

They slipped through the door behind him as he entered the shop, careful not to allow the door to remain open for a suspicious amount of time. They kept their steps light and took a good look around the place. It might not have been as substantial as the third establishment, but they were fast running out of options.

“As you are so insistent that I require something different, I suggest you tell me what the ingredients might be, Harlot. Make it quick, though.”

“Pick up the bottles I point at and hold them so I can sniff them.” Haarlep replied quickly, already pointing to a few. 

“Can I help you?” The elderly shopkeeper was watching Raphael closely, and seemed anxious in his silence.

“If I bring you several of your scents, can you make something based on those?” Raphael gestured to the shelves as he asked, earning a smile from the man behind the desk as he continued. “I will, of course, pay you handsomely should your perfume meet my exacting standards.” The flicker of his eyes towards the incubus was for them alone this time, but the perfumier seemed to already be counting his profits. 

“Yes, yes! Go ahead, I have many years of experience, I’m sure I can mix just the thing for you!” 

Without the sending to reply to, Haarlep could only gesture invisibly as needed. Several bottles were pulled from shelves and opened with dramatically wide gestures to waft the scent closer to where they stood. 

It was difficult to decide, but there had to be a balance. The cherries suited him, and something strong would have to disguise the hints of the hells that carried on his clothes and skin after travelling between planes. Something spicy too, and the blend needed an allure that could draw in a wide range of potential clients.

And, naturally, it mustn’t clash with cinnamon. 

All of this was relayed to the perfumier who made notes with impressive speed for a man of his years, selecting and rejecting several of the bottles himself. Eventually he seemed ready to mix a selection of oils into a glass flask, balancing it out with the base and blending the scents carefully. 

“Palmarosa, black pepper, cherry…” 

“The contents matter less than the result. May I?” Raphael took the bottle that was handed over, waving it dramatically through the air once more. “Ahh, interesting.” He looked over to Haarlep, finally allowing a Sending. It was not lost on them how he controlled even their private communication for now… “Well? I have no objections to this one. Quite to the contrary, it seems very fitting. I may concede that you both have adequate taste.” 

“Finally,” they began, unable to hide their frustration at being left to mime for so long. “It’s close, but it needs one more thing. Not much, but it needs some cinnamon. If I am to play your role, that is…”

“Agreed. There must be as few loose ends as possible. Our scents should match as closely as our appearance, voice…” This time he didn’t use the limit of the spell’s words. He seemed momentarily torn and distracted before he stopped pretending to sniff the bottle and handed it back to the man waiting expectantly at the counter. “A little cinnamon, and that will suffice.” 

“Of course!” The perfumier seemed delighted by the suggestion. “Warmth and spice, to balance out the bitter and cold edge, an unusual blend but it should work quite nicely, quite nicely indeed!” 

—

Several very long minutes later, the pair were back out on the street with a small bag in hand and an order left with the Perfumier to prepare a much larger batch along with some infused soaps and candles. 

The journey back to the portal was somewhat swifter and than before, but at least the time of day meant the sun was now more of a pleasant warmth than a blinding presence above. Raphael kept a swift pace, though with his human guise his stride was somewhat shorter than the incubus’ who had a far more relaxed stroll behind him.

The mansion holding the portal was just as empty as it had been before, and Raphael made a mental note to contact Blackcloak soon. The mage might have been driven mad in the past, but he was still powerful, useful, if he remembered to hold up his end of certain contracts. The cambion shuddered… Halaster had once come far too close to binding him into service. That would not stand. Neither would he allow-

Haarlep tapped his shoulder. A quick gesture and mime a reminder that they were following his instruction not to speak out loud. 

Raphael dismissed the invisibility and turned to face the incubus. They were quiet a moment longer, expression unreadable as they awaited his instruction. “The day appears to have passed us by far faster than intended.” He broke the silence first, the insignificant statement preferable to the uncomfortable stagnation of the air hanging heavily around them as if still carrying the echoes of earlier words spoken in haste. “Well, time does fly, so they say.” Haarlep shrugged, a hint of mischief tugging at their lips once more. “I always favoured the night, anyway.” 

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- --- A little more angst and plot for our dear incubus, but the night is theirs and that's where the next chapter will lead.

Keep Reading the Next Chapter Here!

[fearlesslytale]

[2neaky]

࿔*･⟡⋆｡˚⊹ 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞♡ ۫࿔. ࿐

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖦹 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 |-> dirty talk, c୨ৎck warming, p in v p୨ৎnetration, ୨ৎdging, denied ୨ৎrgasm, cl୨ৎt rubbing, m୨ৎsturbation, d୨ৎm/s୨ৎb dynamics, teasing, descriptive language, oc/nameless characters (“he” & “she” prns only used) abrupt ending (if I ever feel up to it, I’ll add a real ending)

It keeps him entranced, watching her climb over his lap and settles on his thighs softly. 

Like a butterfly coming to rest on its flower; She’s open for him.

“Look so pretty,” he mumbles, dazed. Not a full second passes before he presses his mouth to her cushiony bottom lip.

In the kiss, her lips spread into a smile and a giggle slips through.

“Thank you.” 

A velvety hum leaves him as he licks at her, coaxing her tongue out. He sucks on it.

She tastes like the finest dessert.

His warm, big hands rub down her bare back, pressing her closer to him. 

Her breath skips as her stiff nipples graze his hot chest. She can feel the energy thrumming throughout his body.

His hands bear down, pressing deeper into the slopes of her waist and the curves of hips. They come around to the meatiest part of her body—her ass. Fingers spread to pull at and sink into dimpled, loose fat.

She mewls.

“Perfect,” he whispers against her lips as he pulls apart her bubbly cheeks. 

He sits up straighter, just to peer over her shoulder and down at her little holes. 

“Look at that.”

Her asshole winks back at him and her pussy clenches repeatedly, from the tension. He spots the slimy, deep pinkness hidden between fat, puffy lips.

One hand lets go of a cheek, only to smack it. Before his hand settles against the skin, he tightly grips the fat.

Her breath hitches. “Fuck,” she whispers, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth.

A soft chuckle leaves him, amused as he jiggles her cheek.

She’s too sweet, hiding her face deep in his neck. Always been so easy to embarrass, getting all shy whenever they’re intimate—it’s cute.

Above all, she always waits patiently for what he’s to do next.

Such a good girl.

It’s true, she is. But … how much of one is she?

How long can he push her until she breaks bad? What would be her last straw?

He desperately wants to know.

“Are you a good girl?”

The question’s got her pulling her head out of his neck. Big brown eyes stare back at him for a split second. Then, she’s nodding, curls flopping along with the movement. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The barest hint of a whine in her voice makes his dick twitch. Unintentionally, the tip barely taps her naked lips.

She tries to stifle her excitement, keeping her hips still to stop from bearing down on him.

Just like he thought—a good girl.

“Want you to show me.” 

His eyes bounce around her face, studying her features—seeing the way her eyes widen just a smidge and her lips part by less than an inch.

“Show me how patient you could be.”

His voice rasps with the excitement of his thoughts.

“How?”

She’s already wet, but that she keeps quiet about. He’ll find out soon enough.

“Lean up,” he whispers.

Bruised knees sink into the mattress on either side of his hips. Body raised high, her boobs hang in his face. Heavy and full. 

He’s tempted to stick his tongue out and swipe it against one of her large, dark brown nipples.

One hand hooked on her hip, he takes his dick in hand.

Her body tingles with excitement. She’s too eager to take him. Because she loves taking his dick. It doesn’t matter to her how debauched it sounds.

All the right spots he knows how to hit, and just at the perfect time. He didn’t need much time to learn her body.

Whether that’s from experience with other women, she doesn’t like to think about. It makes her a tad bit green with envy.

However, it’s easy to forget all of that when he’s balls deep in her. Filling her tummy so nicely, stretching her cunt wide open and pushing her body’s bounds.

He drives her crazy, turns her brain to mush.

Sometimes, she’s finds herself having to keep from shouting out how badly she wants him to finish in her. The only thing keeping her from doing so is the possibility that he might deny her that dream.

She’s knocked from her daze as the heavy crown of his dick knocks against her clit. He feels around for her opening, rubbing and prodding between her lips.

He knows where to put it—finds it with ease every time. If he really wanted to, he’d slip right in. But, more than anything, he just loves to tease—that she knows. 

So, she keeps her whining and complaints to herself, just thankful that he’s touching her.

“Mmh … so warm.”

His tip throbs, circling her hardened clit. He holds himself so that it slips perfectly against the slit of his crown. 

“O-oh,” she whimpers softly. 

Her strong thighs flex as she tries to keep still for him.

His breathing heavies as he continues to rub himself against her. There’s the swooping feeling in his lower stomach.

“Oh … fuck,” he whispers.

Precum beads out of the thick head, immediately wiped against her clit. He spreads it gracelessly over her lips, glossing them up.

Short acrylics sink into the skin of his shoulders as she grips tighter. Her jaw clenches, even.

He teases at her entrance, dipping into her honey pot and getting his head just a bit messy.  

“So creamy,” he groans quietly. 

Shallowly, he pushes his dick just past her opening and strokes softly. The sound of her body tempts him. Soft squishes whisper to him, telling him to push deeper.

He almost listens.

Letting go of himself, his dick slips from between her. A thin string of her essence barely stretches before it breaks, disconnecting them.

As stiff as his dick is, it bobs weakly before standing in its erect position. Looking down between them, he notes how a sticky glaze covers his tip.

“So patient for me.” His hand at her hip slides to the crux of her ass cheek, rubbing it gently.

“M-mhm.”

She nods weakly, prompting the gentle sway of her boobs in his face. He wants to put his mouth on them bad.

“Mmh—c-can I … sit?”

He can imagine the cute wrinkle between her brows as she wonders just how much longer he’ll be.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He lightly smacks her ass. “Sit on your dick.”

She makes haste, grabbing him at the base and angling him just right. A moan of equal parts relief and arousal leave her as she slowly sinks down.

He only grunts as he steadily fills her up. It always feels so good going in her, like her pussy is a perfect home for his dick. 

Broken whimpers float from her as that slight burn comes with his dick bullying its way into her walls. 

The feel of it is one thing, but the sight gets him like no other: how her hole is pulled taut around him, trying to accommodate his size. Her body has no other choice but to take him.

He can fucking break her.

The thought makes him twitch inside, pulling a soft mewl out of her.

Minutes pass before she’s able get all ten inches of him in. In his lap her body quivers, ass cheeks clenching as she tries to relax around him.

“Always squeezing me so good,” he mumbles, burying his face into her neck as he rubs on her ass and back.

“M’so full,” she moans.

The soothing motions of his hands come to a halt as his arms encircle her small waist tight. They bear down and lock around her. If she wanted to move, she can’t.

Kisses are flowered across her neck and chest. She smells so sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon rolls.

“Such a good girl … so good to me—”

A weak, half-thrust on his part makes her whimper. She grips the undersides of his biceps.

“Love stuffing you like this … filling you with all this dick,” he rasps.

She clenches around him. He resists thrusting up into her again. However, he’s sure she can feel him pulsing inside of her.

Her back barely arches, pushing her breasts up higher into his face. The wide, dark areolas fit her so perfectly, he’s obsessed.

Without a word or even so much as a second thought, he takes one of her stiff nipples into his mouth. His eyes fall closed as he indulges himself.

His tongue laves at it, toying with the sensitive bud. She bears down on him, pussy gripping him so tight it almost makes his head spin.

She tries to lift her hips, but can’t budge. “Uh—babe … wanna move.”

He releases her nipple. It shines with spit and stands at attention. “Hol’on.” He didn’t even make eye contact with her, too focused on her chest. 

Eager to give the other side just as much attention, he takes her into his mouth again. But he doesn’t leave the first bud idle. 

He unwraps an arm from her waist, just to toy with it. With a feather light touch, he rubs the pad of his thumb against the wet skin.

He moans around her nipple, too content with sucking on her while her walls massage his dick. It slowly pushes him towards his own climax.

“Baby—“ she whimpers.

His thumb circles it. He releases her from his mouth again, leaving her chest free.

“Pretty ass nipples. Love that shit.”

He gropes her with both hands, thumbs flicking and pressing on her nipples like they were buttons.

“Please,” she exhales, trying to keep the cry out of her voice. Her hands snake up from his arms and shoulders to scratch at the nape of his neck.

“Please what?”

“Move—I wanna move.”

“Thought you wanted to show me how patient you was?”

Her face falls.

“Hm? What happened to that?” His brows pull together, creating a soft wrinkle between them. “Thought you was a good girl?”

She keeps quiet, unsure of what to say.

“Hm?” He delivers a quick smack to her ass, making her back straighten. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she inhales. “Yes, I-I am.”

“So be patient.”

She swallows, breath shuddering.

Carefully, he shifts to sit on his knees. She tries to keep quiet as the movement teases her. It gives her a taste of what she’s used to—his dick mixing her guts.

“Lay back.”

Slowly, she lays back until she’s against the mattress. Her lower body slopes upward, still on his lap, dick still plugging her up.

Her breasts pool on her chest, the fat spreading in a way that only arouses him further.

She’s perfect like this.

He stares down at her with eyes blown full of lust. It almost makes him regret doing all of this.

“Touch yourself.”

Hesitantly, she reaches downward. She feels around, finding the point at which they connect. She runs her fingers over her stretched lips before skating them over her clit.

She weakly jolts.

“C’mon,” he grunts, shifting on his knees.

Her eyes blink slowly, brain lagging as she tries to focus on his commands. Shyly, she begins a circle over her sensitive pearl. Round and round her fingers go, caressing it.

Every couple of seconds her pussy clamps down on him. But the more she rubs, the smaller the time in between each clench gets.

Her fingers pick up the pace, slipping and sliding too fast to even do full circles. Her chest bounces faster and faster with each hurried breath. Her eyes begin to roll back.

“Mmh … mmmh—“

She licks her lips, eyes falling closed. One of her knees lift below his arm as her toes press into the mattress.

“Fuck … fuck.”

Her voice is tiny and gentle, like a whisper in the wind. Hand movements grow sloppier as her pussy chokes around his dick.

“Stop.”

Her hand stutters before coming to a slow stop. Those big, brown eyes flutter open. There’s a hint of a frown on her lips.

“Spread yourself.”

Weak fingers further pull her lips apart. It doesn’t change his view of her, seeing as he’s already stretching her to capacity. But, he does gain more access to her clit.

His balls tighten.

“Got this pussy wide open.” He reaches forward to rub at the small pearl.

Her legs twitch as they try to close around him. To ensure they don’t, his other hand keeps one leg down as he rubs lazy circles against her. 

“Shit, you so pretty like this. Don’t even need me to fuck you … just gotta sit on my dick.”

“F-fuck—“

Her eyes almost cross before they fall closed again.

“Keep it warm.”

“Baby.” Her brows pull together as her mouth opens.

It’s a warning.

“Hold it.” Pursing his lips, he leans forward and spits right on her clit. He rubs it in before it slides down to his dick. “Hold that nut.”

She whimpers, her held down leg pushing against his hand. And her body only tightens around him.

“I can’t—“

Holding his breath, he quickly, but carefully, pulls out.

“Augh, fuck—“

His dick weakly twitches as he grips the base tightly. Precum only drips from the tip as he successfully halts his climax, landing right on her pussy. It slides through her folds, getting lost in her.

He’s a mess, his dick covered in her creamy frosting. However, all of this has come without the relief of a release—on both ends.

When he looks up, he finds devastation written all over her face. 

“Why’d you stop?”

“Gotta be patient.”

Staring up at him, her eyes say everything her mouth doesn’t. They had gone from being big and pleading, to glaring.

She didn’t have any more patience left in her.

[cupiidzbow]

ignore how , fucking gay this is gonna sound I know russ smells good as fuckkkkkkkkkk

[kkolg]

I love this AU a little too much

Cinnamon Scent AU by @ayloverlove now owned by @noridoorman

[premamelody]

i am OBSESSED with this au been waiting all week to be able to draw this

cinnamon scent au by @ayloverlove

[adder24]

"I'm on the scent of Murder like a bloodhound" 6x12-The Golden Hammer

Not seen this made into a gifset my end (Could be wrong) So I went ahead and made it. Loved this scene from that episode...Those looked like genuine reactions to me!

@profwonderbearthementalista @reeselivesforeverinmyheart @wildwildtarget @tmsource @nicolacoughlanbigod @graciehart @loops911 @untilthe12ofnever @myfriendtheurbanlegend @the-boneyard-rider @kathnaris @superrrfan @autumn0689 @someonesaidcake @hollyferone @whereyourtreasureis @margaretintherain @jisbonlover

[sentient-carrot]

Honestly in such awe of nature, like cinnamon is just bark we eat?? There's a tree that has bark that tastes good and can be helpful for the tummy?? Wow

[oolhan]

this is a bit embarassing to admit and its niche but I HAD to share this okay. All this time I thought the entirety of the thg fandom just universally agreed (headcanon) that katniss' scents are along the smells of pines and wood and smoke. That makes sense. And then Peeta always has cinnamon and dill to him. This combination is present in almost all fic I've read so I assumed it's purely headcanon and I was curious why out of all scents a baker can smell, why dill? why cinnamon???

and then.

oh my god.

cinnamon and dill IS CANONICALLY Peeta's faint scents! it's shortly mentioned in mockingjay and I just discovered it in my re-read now. Katniss smelt faint scents of cinnamon and dill in her dream when she's missing her peeta.

I can't believe this I'm pushing myself down the stairs.

[newwavesylviaplath]

yeah okay but is she more fleetwood mac misty day lavender candles dancing around in my room to all of lust for life wearing a shawl and a flowy white dress long wild curly hair crystal charm bracelets cut outs of stevie nicks on the wall than me?

[tavyliasin]

Scent of Cinnamon 7 - The Dress, The Duck, And The Cambion's Patience

Still unwilling to sleep with Haarlep directly so soon after their deal, Raphael needs to find another way to sate their appetite - and perhaps more importantly to prevent the incubus from the far more dangerous condition of boredom. Fortunately, he has just the client in mind - a poor mortal wretch named Eida - and a contract she's more than willing to sign.

4,025 Words

AO3 Link Click Here or Tumblr Masterlist for SoC Here

Summary: Raphael has a deal to make and the contract requires a little help from Haarlep to satisfy the client's wishes... Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep and Haarlep/Original Female Character SPICE Rating: 3/5  Content Warnings: Aphrodisiacs (mild), Cambion-typical manipulation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Fingering,Light Angst

Spoilers: Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance: No canon beyond Haarlep's deals. Other Notes: Hells, it has been a while since I last worked on this series, but it has never been far from my mind or my heart~ I adore the pairing and we have so much further to go with it, yet life - and a few deadlines - kept me from progressing for a while. I also want to give my heartfelt thanks once again to my beta reader https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_me_thy_lyre for helping polish it up, catch a few errors, and being so willing to chat through things in the comments with me as we polished up a few bits of dust from the draft. Please consider checking out some of her wonderful pieces~

Song Pairing Pure Morning by Placebo "A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend with weed is better, A friend with breasts and all the rest, A friend who's dressed in leather. A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend who'll tease is better, Our thoughts compress which makes us blessed And makes for stormy weather." - - Full chapter below the cut! - -

The Dress, The Duck, and The Cambion's Patience

Several tendays passed by in a blur. Time held different meaning to those who lived for millennia, yet there was still little in the form of entertainment for the incubus who lounged upon silken sheets in their new outfit. The leather harness covered little of their body, fitted so precisely to every curve and muscle that it felt almost like a part of their own skin. Chains and spikes added a harsher edge to the look, cool metal the perfect accent to stiff leather and crimson skin. The tailor had clearly earned her position and the renown that came with it. Despite the request being for undergarments, she had clearly designed the outfit with no intention for anything to be worn over it.

Haarlep had checked it over in the mirror a dozen times, finding the overall effect to be quite acceptable for now. Perhaps something could be added or changed later, or in further iterations of the clothing given that leather was not as long-lived as a fiend, particularly in the heat of the hells.

They turned the page of the book that they had barely been reading, the author droning on about mundane interactions for far too long in a tome that promised more enticing content. Were all mortals so dull as to require this much build up? Haarlep sighed and continued on with all the enthusiasm of someone folding laundry. 

—

Raphael knew it wouldn’t be enough for long, that keeping his distance would be entirely impossible when the hunger of the incubus reached its peak. Boredom, too, seemed to be just as dangerous as appetite when Haarlep was involved. No, he could not sate them forever with the same games they had played that night. It wasn’t enough for them to watch each other whilst they teased the pleasure from his mirrored nerves, and he wasn’t ready to lay with them directly…not yet… 

Rubbing the wrinkles forming on his brow, Raphael stepped into the portal, appearing in the run down home of his latest potential acquisition, contract already in hand. The work of a mere hour should be enough on this one, and he saw the way she looked at him…

“You’ll find the terms to be quite satisfactory,” he laid out the page on the table that was just as worn out as the clothes the half elf had clearly been repairing for a decade already, “within a tenday you’ll have all you wish for, and more.” 

“Really? Everything? Even…” The woman’s blush deepened on her cheeks as she lost her words, already looking at the parchment glowing with infernal runes. She couldn’t read it, of course, but it didn’t matter. All she needed to do was sign.

“Everything,” Raphael leaned in closer, allowing the new perfume to fill her senses, delighted at how her breath visibly quickened, “and more.” 

The shiver that passed through her was almost palpable, the seductive growl in the edge of the fiends voice hitting its mark with ease. It was almost disappointing how little of a challenge there was in this… “How can I ever thank you?” 

“Your signature is all the thanks I need,”  Raphael smiled as she took the quill between shaking fingers, “and, of course, you would not think to stray from the terms of our deal now, would you, Little Duck?” 

“N…no, of course not! I would never!” The ink dried on the page with the last flourish sealing their agreement.

Raphael rolled up the parchment the moment it was complete, a swift motion sending it directly to safe storage back in the House. Another spell brought forth a paper package tied with a deep crimson ribbon – a gesture that was perhaps unnecessary, but given her current attire… “I suggest you wear something more appropriate for the evening, I believe this will fit you quite well.” 

—

The boudoir was warm as always, yet the woman standing in a perfectly fitted – and quite stunningly revealing – dark blue gown was shivering. The dark coils of her hair fell past her shoulders, a single gold comb ornament holding it back from one side of her face, leaving slender fingers to nervously push more of the curls behind her pointed ear on the other side. Despite the flawless tailoring of the garment, it didn’t seem to fit her yet. Not that it would matter soon.

“Well, Little Duck, are you to stand there all night? Or did you wish to claim the prize you earned?” Haarlep kept to the nickname that Raphael had chosen for the woman. It was an ill fit for the half elf, but keeping diminutive pet terms was a simple way to be clear about who held the power. 

“I…you’re not what I expected, Raphael…” She faltered, hesitated. The taste of her curiosity was barely an appetiser, but she was a dish that could be seasoned if they were careful. “I thought your invitation was to dine, at least—” 

“Then feast your eyes upon everything you wished for!” Haarlep rose from the bed where they had been reclining, stretching out their wings in a display of power, relishing how her eyes drifted across their exposed form. “You see, there is more than one way to devour, more than one taste that could pass your lips~” 

The visitor took a half step back, tripping on the train of her dress – clearly unused to the trappings of finery. She gasped, but before she could hit the floor, Haarlep was there. They caught her in their arms easily, holding her low in a dancer’s dip rather than helping her to stand upright.

“Be careful, Little Duck, you have not yet grown used to your new plumage~” Haarlep gently stroked a few stray hairs away from her eyes, bringing their lips within reach of hers, savouring how her breath caught in her throat. “Would you like me to help you with that? It would be such a shame to ruin your new dress so soon, after all.” 

—

Raphael remained in the room that would become his archives, brow furrowed as he went over the plans. Security for his most prized possessions would be a key factor, but he should also ensure that contracts, spells, and all manner of tomes that might be of use would be kept perfectly organised. A desk against that wall, yes. A cabinet here, some shelves over there, a few more tables for when the need would arise to bring more debtors in to work for h—

A whisper of feeling crossed his lips. A shadow of a caress across his cheek. His hair felt slender fingers running through it until the echo of touch reached the nape of his neck.

So, it begins… He tapped his fingers on the desk at the realisation. The debtor playing the role of a butler – or something akin to that, at least – had led the newest client to the boudoir. He summoned her contract to his hand, unfurling it upon the desk. Eida, a name akin to a breed of waterfowl. “Little Duck” might not have been particularly imaginative, but it seemed as good a name as any to keep her in line, to remind her how he was taking her from a stagnant pond to a manor’s perfectly kept lake. Her ambitions were simple: leave her life of being poor and destitute, marry rich, live a quiet and pampered life. But she had desired more than that—

His skin prickled again. There was contact with a tail that wasn’t even present as he sat in his human guise, a shudder along the edge of intangible wings.

Raphael reminded himself of the other contract that remained in the Boudoir’s safe, the one place it could not be touched by the incubus. This was their agreement, a mutually beneficial decision to— 

He shifted in his seat. It might be some time before he could sit comfortably.

—

“Bold, Little Duck~” Haarlep laughed as the now mostly naked half elf let her fingers drift lower down their body, “do you wish to prove your loyalty to me? Do you swear to serve me?” 

“Yes, Raphael,”  she whispered, dropping to her knees the moment they pointed at the ground, “I swear it, I swear by every letter in our contract.” 

Haarlep grinned, winding their fingers into the curls of her hair to guide her lips to the leather at the lower point of their harness. “Go ahead, show me.” 

Eida’s tongue ran along the shape of their length, barely tangible through the thick material, but her eagerness – those sweet and nimble hands finding a grip on the straps of the harness to hold herself closer, soft moans already betraying her lust – that was enough to arouse them. No doubt Raphael himself was already feeling this, a thought that was far more interesting than a simple waterfowl. 

Distance was a factor in the incubus’ power, yet Raphael chose to remain within the House. That in itself was a fascinating decision – did he want to feel this? To experience this client servicing his needs without having to look upon her directly? Such a waste, they thought, gazing down at soft eyes that looked up for approval, she looks good on her knees.

—

Raphael shifted in his seat again. A quick cantrip had already made short work of the first loss of control that stained his underclothes, and he was glad of the brief reprieve – Haarlep was apparently returning the favour, if the feeling of pressure on his tongue was anything to go by. At least this allowed time to sort through a few more plans, take some measurements, pen some letters to ensure his pawns would move as they needed them. Eida was just one more piece on the board, but she would be an important one. Securing her marriage to a minor noble, using her cunning and charm to raise that noble’s status and influence, then should it be needed Haarlep could pose as the now high ranking lady of the city. They had to take her form first, of course, but judging by the change in sensation that was not going to be a problem. 

Frustrated, Raphael stood from the desk, leaving the chair on its back where it fell as his body transformed in a swirl of flames. Large crimson wings stretched and shuddered behind him as his tail swished and slapped at the floor with his impatience. Staying here was a mistake. Haarlep warned him – the closer he was, the more he would feel it, but hubris had kept him in the House in an effort to grow accustomed to the sensations more swiftly. His pace carried him quickly towards the secondary bedroom that had become his own after trading away the Boudoir to Haarlep, tail still lashing at the stone as he stumbled several times along the way, clothes chafing at the building heat within his body. 

—

It was challenging to hold back. Haarlep dug their claws into their own thigh to remind themselves – do not take all of her, do not let the Little Duck sink entirely into pleasure’s depths. She had a use yet.

“Pledge your body to me, swear it, and I will give you every pleasure your body yearns for~” They granted her one more kiss, the aphrodisiac enough to entice her, raise her desire to become the perfect cocktail, one to be sipped carefully. “I…I swear…please—” 

Haarlep grinned, wings spreading out behind them, tail flicking back and forth as they finally stopped teasing and thrust fully inside with one swift and merciless motion. 

Eida screamed, pleasure overwhelming her in a single moment, lust echoing from the walls as she called out the wrong name. “Raphael!” 

Haarlep bristled at the name, but bit their lip, held their tongue. They were playing their part well enough, the master of the House would pay for the insult one way or another…and eventually they would need to grow accustomed to this part of the game, the act of wearing his face and body. They would’ve been concerned about the half elf noticing their change in expression, but her eyes had long since rolled back and closed as waves of bliss took over.

She was…not the most exciting lover, but a different flavour was at least adding some variety at last. They continued to ride the tides of her pleasure, memorising every inch of her body inside and out, relishing how she responded to the slightest change in motion with sweet gasps and tensing muscles. Her form might even be fun to toy with, though whether Raphael would grant that was another matter entirely. 

—

The cambion gripped the sheets in his claws, tail wrapped around his aching length in a vain attempt to stem the sensations from the other room. He heard the pleasured cries echoing down the hall, just as much as he felt the woman’s other response in a ghosted grip, squeezing and tensing. He found his other hand reaching for the oil, drifting lower – if he had to endure this, he might as well feel satisfied. 

Sharp teeth worried at his lower lip as his inexperienced touch fumbled to find the ways he wanted to be touched, the ways he needed to be filled. Sweat clung to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut as he writhed upon the silks desperate to find relief from the slowly building pressure.

Raphael’s jaw clenched tightly, air sucked in through a hissed breath, cursing Haarlep’s name for making this so infuriatingly difficult. 

The contract might have changed the incubus more drastically, but its formation had clearly done something to him as well. Unthinkable, that such a creature would make him so desperately needy that his own clumsy fingers were already trying to find the centre of his desire. They made it seem far too easy… 

—

The encounter would have to end soon – it was becoming more challenging not to devour the woman’s entire desires like a glutton – but there was another taste in the air. A lust that did not belong to the gasping and moaning woman whose eyes could not stay open as pleasure itself consumed her. 

Haarlep’s gaze drifted to the door, wondering if the cambion would be so foolish as to walk right in during the middle of the act. Now that might make this interesting…yet no footsteps graced the halls, and it was time to end the game with their toy. 

Careful hands traced along Eida’s heated body, laying her down on the sheets where her chest still heaved with the effort of breathing. “Shhh Little Duck, you have proven yourself to be most wonderful~” Haarlep’s lies were sweeter than honey trickling into her ear as they brushed the errant curls clinging to the sweat on her face.

“Did I—” she began, trying to find what was left of her mind to form a single question, “did I do—”

“You played your part perfectly – rest now, you have earned it,” they laid a cool sheet over her body, bringing with it the permission to sleep. Haarlep should be more careful, this was almost too far…but they had what they wanted, what they needed – a new body to toy with. Yet it was another body that was drawing their attention, the scent of Raphael’s arousal drifting in the air like steam from a freshly cooked meal, beckoning them to discover the source. 

—

Raphael’s eyes were closed tightly, brows knit together in concentration, focus on a singular goal. It had slipped his notice that the ghosted double sensation had disappeared, so when he felt a claw against his cheek he was more than a little startled.

“Poor thing,” Haarlep crooned, soothing him quickly despite the strength with which their hand pressed his shoulder down to the bed to prevent him from rising, “and it was such a simple affair with that one too, to have you so riled up—”

“Silence, Harlot, you forget yourself,” he hissed through gritted teeth, anger flaring despite several of his fingers that had yet to leave their lustful work below, “this is not the Boudoir, you have no power here.” 

“And here I was thinking to help my poor Master find a little relief~” Haarlep made a dramatic show of looking utterly offended as they stood up and began to turn away. “Well, I shall return to my abode then, and leave you to—”

“Wait.” A weak voice for what should have been a strong command, Raphael could almost see their smirk spreading across the mirror of his lips despite the incubus still facing away from him. “I demand that you…you…” 

“That I what, Archduke?” The title added to the insult as so often it did, yet the cambion’s frayed nerves prevented him from further rebuking the incubus. “That I lay with you? That I show you far greater pleasures than the mortal that yet sleeps in your bed – quite thoroughly convinced that you took her yourself, I might add – and give you everything you keep denying yourself?” 

“No,” he shook his head, though almost regretted the decision as a flash of the deal’s formation crossed his mind, “not…entirely. Just your hands will suffice.” 

—

Haarlep licked their lips and considered the offer – they didn’t need to feed on him, this would be a mere dessert, a small mint after a meal in mortal terms. Perhaps it might warm him to the idea of more in the days that followed… Either way, doing the devil a favour would mean a debt owed for a later date. That was priceless. 

“Very well,” they made another dramatic show of sighing as they finally turned around, tail swishing lazily through the air behind them, “that should be more than enough to bring you a little relief to your problem.” 

Raphael was frowning again, small wrinkles forming where his brow met the bridge of his nose. “The problem, as well you know, is you and your deal—” 

“Our deal, lest you forget that part.” Haarlep climbed onto the bed again, picking up the oil and slicking both hands thoroughly. “The details of which you were well aware of when we both signed. If you’d rather, I could use my own form, or that of another, for your clients—” “No.” Raphael snapped, even as he withdrew his fingers from his quivering hole. “I will simply have to grow accustomed to the particulars…” 

“Then I suggest you make more arrangements to that effect. That,” they began to slide a single claw inside him, breathing in the taste of his lust as he arched into the simple touch, “will make this much easier for you.” 

The cambion bit his lip a moment, taking a grip of the silk sheets in balled fists as Haarlep began to ease him open to their ministrations. He seemed almost lost in his thoughts for a minute, before voicing them aloud. “Have you had an arrangement like this before?” 

Haarlep might have been offended at the casual conversation whilst teasing the cambion’s body, but the question was at least one that entertained them. “One where I take the form of my Master and plunge my fingers deep within his body?” 

A snarl began to form on Raphael’s face at the blunt terms, yet the expression was driven quickly back by a curl of fingers finding their target. Almost too easy…

“No, I can’t say that I have,” they continued, as their other hand took hold of his length, grip sliding from base to tip as they talked as casually as one might over drinks with an acquaintance. “I have, naturally, taken the forms of others and allowed them to share the pleasures of the connection between us, but never to pose as them entirely.”

—

Raphael struggled to keep his focus as he listened to Haarlep’s reply, and the lines carefully unspoken between their words. He had never given much thought to the particulars of incubi and their kind, yet that had also never been necessary. Even as they brought him carefully to a climax that frayed the edges of his consciousness, their tail winding around his wrist almost supportively as he sought something to ground him, the thoughts persisted.

The incubus gave little away, working quietly now to clean them both with a hot scented cloth – a pool might need to be added to this room, too, if this were to become a common occurrence. Their tail remained on his arm, a soft pressure, a welcome warmth as he allowed himself room for more quiet contemplation through pleasure’s sweet afterglow.

Sex was clearly different for Haarlep, more akin to food and necessity than simple pleasure for pleasure’s sake alone, nor was it a piece on the Lanceboard table or chip to trade for a contract. To satisfy them – in any sense of the word – would be no easy task. Their presence as they lay next to him on the bed, sated, it seemed, for now, he found himself appreciating their weight beside him. A notion he swiftly dismissed as one brought about by the aftermath of the climax and nothing more, yet he did nothing to ask them to leave.

—

The silence was comfortable for a while, though the questions had been an unexpected needle to Haarlep’s memories. Mephistopheles may have stripped them of name and identity, but their recollections were entirely intact. 

“Why did you agree to it?” They finally broke the stillness of the air with a question of their own, turning their head to observe the cambion’s reaction as he remained seemingly transfixed by some particularly interesting point on the ceiling. “This part of the deal hardly seems to be your preference.” 

Raphael’s free hand pushed the loose strands of hair back from his forehead as he replied. “Only a fool ignores a potential advantage when it strolls into his home.” 

“An advantage?” Haarlep laughed, taking mock offence at the suggestion. “And here I thought we were partners in a favourable deal~”

“An advantageous alliance then,” Raphael was clearly carefully avoiding acknowledging a partnership, “for as long as you prove yourself to be useful.” 

Another needle from his words, but this time to their pride. The prick stung, and they released his wrist, withdrawing their tail from his grasp. “I should say the same of you,” they turned away, wings curling around their body as if to shield themselves from any further spikes from his lips, “lest you forget my other contract and all it promised.” 

—

Raphael sighed. They were right, he should be more careful how he treated them - careless words could sign a warrant for his head from his own infernal father. He glanced down at his now empty hand, no crimson tail within his fingers, nothing but a chasm of space in the mere few inches between the two. 

“Haarlep,” he began, noting how their wings twitched at the use of the name he had given instead of the insulting rhyme he most often used now, “you have my word, you will find my contract far more rewarding than anything that arrogant bastard could ever offer. Selling you so cheaply was his mistake, and one I will not be repeating.” 

Silence followed, but it mattered little. There was no need to reply, all that was required was patience – something that was common amongst devils like himself with millennia of lifespan to allow plans to come to fruition. This was just one more brick in the foundation. 

Rather than trying to shuffle beneath the covers, a swift spell brought a fresh sheet to cover them both as Raphael decided that there was little point fighting the fatigue spreading through every fibre of his being. The debtor would attend to the guest asleep in the boudoir later, shuffling her back where she belonged so she could play her part in time. Just another brick. 

It wasn’t until morning, however, that Raphael noticed the tail wrapped around his leg – though in truth it was a little less obvious than the horns resting against his head as the incubus had curled up against him, wings around them like a cloak.

- - ENDING NOTES - - The next chapter is coming soon! Already halfway written as we dive into what lays behind a certain incubus' closed eyelids in the time that passes for "night" in Avernus~ and of course Raphael can only avoid sleeping with them fully for so long...

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! It's winter again which means my annual search for lotion I am not allergic to is back on (aka my hands are dry and I want to find better lotion lol) Currently, I use Aveeno, the one with oats I can never remember the name of. I am not allergic to it but it's not super effective for me, so I'm once again looking for a different lotion option - I am allergic to coconut, macadamia nut, almond, and cinnamon (and vinegar but I doubt that would be in lotion) - I am not allergic to but my asthma is triggered by mint, any menthol-adjacent anything, cedar, sandalwood...basically any "wood" smells or fake musk smells, and most essential oils. Also fake "sweet" smells - I can usually handle citrus scents better than other scents in things like lotions and soaps without wheezing, but any strong enough scent can be an issue

If you happen to have a lotion, especially a hand lotion, that you think would work for me please let me know! I know it's a long shot but I thought it was worth asking

[hanzajesthanza]

they should make little regis-shaped uhhhh things you put in your car to make it smell good. like instead of a pine tree there is a little regis paper doll

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I think the pervasiveness of sandalwood as a thing dudes smell like in fics is so funny. How do you all know what that smells like and that a dude would smell like it. I couldn't pick that scent out of a lineup

[instinestant]

caramel macchiato & cinnamon scent! ⸺ a flag for misceverses of any dynamic & species with a caramel macchiato & cinnamon scent!

symbols from here (link) & here (link)!

for anon!

tagging; @radiomogai, @omiag-esp, @omegarchive, & @miscearchival!

[kkolg]

them

I literally can’t with this au THEY ARE MY EVERYTHING 😭‼️‼️

She’s teaching him how to draw hehehe