#baldur's gate 3 raphael fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darlingdekarios · 5 months

Text

abandon all hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not in this form."

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

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

"This is suitable for the foyer."

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

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

"You prefer me this way."

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

Was he afraid of your answer?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then you will make them."

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

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

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

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

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"On one condition."

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

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

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

"And you talk about my theatrics."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Haarlep."

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

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

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, I need…"

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

"Do go on."

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

"Anything I'll give you?"

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

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

And all for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

980 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 6 months

Text

bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav

your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain

a/n: i am shouting out @angellayercake for screaming about this with me and for also having to deal with this:

this is my first raphael fic! i tried :) 2.1k words. smut! mdni! 18+ please. both tav and raphael make bad decisions! ao3 link.

Your muscles and bones ache as you toss and turn in bed, eyes squeezed shut while you try to force yourself to sleep but to no avail. The bed creaks as you shift, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Sleeping used to be easier before the tadpole, before your abduction and before you somehow became the hero of this story. Your eyes flicker across your companions, watching as they sleep, their chests rising and falling between soft breaths. You knew booking a room at Elfsong would be good for them, allowing them to sleep in actual beds for the first time during your adventure rather than bedrolls on the hard ground. You care for them, more than you’ve cared about anything before, putting their needs above yours. Perhaps that’s why you’ve taken on the role as the heroic leader.

But you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You’re exhausted from trying to go about this the right way when there is a slightly easier way to go about it.

The second those big, brown eyes fell upon you in the Devil’s Den he knew you were exhausted. You still went about the delicate dance of learning what he truly wanted from you and how you refuse to make a deal with a Devil. But deep down, you wanted to and he knew. The way his lips quirked into a slimy smirk as you left, your eyes met his and you gave him a knowing look. He would be expecting you to come back.

You just didn’t think you would be back so soon but you aren’t able to get your thoughts to quiet down. You need your plans in place to quiet your mind enough to rest. Gravel crunches beneath your boots as you make your way back to Sharess’ Caress, a cautious eye scanning the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You miss the days when you could walk these streets without worry, when signs of danger were few and far between.

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end once you reach the door to Devil’s Den, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since Raphael showed his smarmy face and performed his rehearsed speech to your group, you couldn’t help but be curious about him. A devil, a cambion to be more specific, coming to you with a deal was never even a possibility that crossed your mind before, let alone having multiple run-ins with him since you escaped the wreckage. There is always something far too tempting about him and his schemes.

I’ve grown fond of you, in my own way.

You think about the way those words rolled off of his tongue more than you would like to admit. An infernal creature fond of you. You can’t help but feel special. A quick thought blips to the front of your mind, a sudden worry that it’s too late at night for you to be disturbing him. You suck in a deep breath and shrug the thought away — you are his favorite client, after all. The door to his room clicks and you push open the door, revealing Raphael still perched at his desk almost as if he hasn’t moved since you left him earlier.

“Back so soon, mouse?” The devil tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You put on quite the performance earlier, I figured you would take a few nights to stew over it before you came crawling back.” His voice drops deliciously low as he curls his fingers underneath his chin, his eyes scanning your body. You feel warmth start to blossom in the pit of your stomach but you choose to brush the feeling off. It’s just like him to continue this little game of his when he knows full well what you are here for. You decide to play along.

“Where is the hammer, Raphael?” You ask, annoyance dripping from your town while you walk completely past him and into the bedroom. He trails after you curiously, watching as you start to go through the drawers of his bedside table. You know it’s not here but you must play along with him, wanting nothing more than to hold his attention. Raphael lingers behind you, peering over your shoulder with a bemused expression.

“It’s not here, my pet. You’ll receive it at the right time — if you accept my deal.” You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and your cheeks flush, your grip on the drawer tightening.

“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” You don’t dare turn around, almost afraid how close he is to you. One of his hands grabs you by the waist and you can’t help but give a startled mewl. He snaps his fingers and a contract appears in front of you, the infernal script too complicated for you to understand, and a quill floats beside it.

“You wound me.” Raphael purrs into your ear, savoring the position he has you in. The chase, the seduction is always his favorite part. “My deal is fair. We get what we both want. I promise you, my dear, I would never lie to you. You are my favorite client, after all.” His lips touch your earlobe and he can practically taste your desperation. He sucks in a sharp breath to compose himself while his hand on your waist drifts lower. Raphael has you right where he wants to and he’s relishing in having the hero of the sword coast in his grasp.

“Raphael—“ His name catches in your throat as his fingers slip inside your waistband. You shudder and your eyes flutter open and shut, your cheeks bright red as he continues lower. For Raphael, this is something that happens every so often with his business — having to sweeten the deal with a little bit of devilish delight, but this felt especially sweet. Raphael is corrupting you himself, in more ways than one. His fingers stroke along your opening, your folds already slick to his pleasant surprise.

“My, my.” He teases and you can feel him smile against your ear. “Seems that you are quite ready to accept my deal, little mouse. Take the quill.” His voice is a mere whisper now, his fingers teasing at your entrance. You hesitate for just a moment, putting on a small act of reluctance before following his command, the quill feeling impossibly light in your hand. Raphael hums his approval and presses one of his long fingers inside your dripping cunt. You dip your head back and lean into him, resting on his shoulder as your eyes close and lips part, an embarrassingly soft moan falling from them.

A rush of desire courses through Raphael, so strong that it nearly distracts him from the task at hand, a blush rising to his cheeks that unfortunately you can’t see. He gives a low growl, his mouth finding your neck and sucking on the delicate flesh while he starts to curl his finger inside of you. You gasp and drop your hand to grab his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve as he continues, your body writhing and your toes curling in your boots. Your body is impossibly hot, your mind thinking only about how sinfully good his finger feels, the dangers and worries of signing his contract far away now.

Raphael is lost in your taste. His tongue and lips drifting along your neck, planting wet kisses and sharp bites, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He slips another fingers inside, stretching you open with deft digits as he sinks them even deeper. You’re putty in his hands and you hate that it feels so right, that this is what you wanted, what you dreamt about after first laying eyes on him. Your knees start to buckle and the tension in your abdomen is almost at its breaking point, stuttering moans and huffs clawing their way from your throat. Raphael nearly forgets himself, so utterly wrapped up in your taste, your scent, but he’s able to catch himself before he takes it too far. He pulls his fingers from you and starts to stroke lightly at your fully drenched entrance.

“Sign the contract, my little mouse, and I’ll finish you off.” His voice is gravelly and you feel the words vibrate from his chest. You don’t hesitate this time, feverishly signing the contract as his fingers lazily circle your cunt. The second you’ve signed the contract ignites into flames and disappears, quill included. Raphael wastes no time, plunging his fingers back inside and thrusting them roughly. Your hips buck and your eyes squeeze shut, riding his fingers to the edge of the precipice. His teeth find your earlobe, grazing it before giving it a rough nibble that is enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your body trembles and convulses, breathing heavy as your vision blurs and it overtakes you.

Normally, Raphael would have slipped away from his mark, leaving them alone to bask in the delicious shame of making a deal with a devil. But he can’t leave you. His nose scrunches as his eyes meet your glassy ones, your cheeks an adorable shade of red and your lips shiny and pink. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not for you, not for anyone, but he can’t help but want you. Raphael hasn’t felt this kind of want in ages. His heart pounds in his chest, his gaze drifting to your lips. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t resist you.

Raphael’s lips crash against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You groan at the taste of him, cherries and musk, and you melt into the kiss. It’s fierce and possessive, his strong hands grabbing you again by the waist and clumsily pressing you back into the nearest wall. It’s like he can’t control himself which is alarming given how carefully he has crafted his image for hundreds of years just for you to tear it all away in a moment of weakness. He can’t stop himself though. His hands are groping you all over, drifting from your ass to your breasts, with one firm hand settling on your throat.

You can’t breathe and you’re sure Raphael has forgotten that you need to breathe. You manage to tear yourself away from the breathless kiss, air filling your lungs as he bites at your jaw, those caramel eyes never leaving yours. He uses his free hand to tug at your pants, ripping them in the process but he doesn’t care. He needs you. He needs nothing but you in this moment. You’re not used to how quickly he moves, suddenly finding your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you up against the wall with one hand, his hard cock already pressing against your slick entrance.

You brace yourself against the wall as he slams into you, his sharp nails digging into your ass and a deep moan rumbling from his chest. A scream leaves your lips, your hands pawing at his chest before curling into his doublet to hold on. He keeps the pace desperate, the mere strength of his thighs pounding into your ass enough to leave bruises. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and he whines, a sound you want more than anything to hear again. He captures your lips in a kiss again, his burning tongue dominating the kiss as he fills you so deeply, deeper than anyone has before. Your hands drift up his shoulders to settle around his neck, fingertips brushing the soft curls at the nape of his neck and you swear you hear him purr.

Raphael’s teeth, somehow sharper than before, sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you give a sharp yelp, your body jerking as the pain sears through you. His breath catches in his throat before giving a deep, rumbling snarl against your lips. One last thrust and he’s spilling himself deep inside you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your eyes are wide as you take in his face, his forehead glistening with sweat and a few loose strands of his usually perfect hair, his cheeks flushed red. His gaze meets yours, seeing your reaction and immediately disappearing, only to appear a second later in front of you and tidied up except for a hint of redness in his cheeks.

Meanwhile your lips and teeth are stained with blood, your hair is a mess and your pants are still around your ankles with the devil’s cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“A pleasure doing business with you, mouse. We shall keep this a special secret between us.” Raphael sounds almost angry with you, nearly growling between gritted teeth but there is something else that catches you off guard. His face – his words sound threatening but his face looks unsure, perhaps even worried?

Raphael leaves in a flash of fire.

part two

#raphael x tav #raphael x reader #bg3 raphael x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x tav #bg 3 fanfic #baldurs gate fanfic #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate raphael

618 notes · View notes

seraphimaa · 2 months

Text

Doll for a day

Soft(ish) Raphael x fem!Reader/Tav

Slight Haarlep x Fem!reader/Tav

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

PART 2 IS UP

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

“Haarlep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Master-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Little mouse?”

Well. Fuck.

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

267 notes · View notes

jeeaark · 3 months

Text

Tribute to MVP of this fight : Us. Back when the unpatched devourer was a beast.

Never found out what Raph's final form could do thanks to this lil guy. Was hoping Raph couldn't cast magic if he got his brain ate and boy, with luck on my side, did it do more than that. Poor devil guy just kinda stood there while the ghouls took their sweet time eviscerating him.

It was.... A very slow and painful death.

Everyone else just kinda awkwardly stood there and watched since the ghouls left no room to help, probably didn't like sharing their meal.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 us #raphael bg3 #greygold #bg3 fanart #bg3 comic #tw:violence #Us knows the last chapters Raphael's fanfic as well #I shall believe that theater fiend Raph has never said the word FUCK until proven otherwise #I love you Us and I'll miss your terrifying intellect devouring ways

289 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD

LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x

Summary: Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.”

Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him.

Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse.

Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began.

The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.

She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit.

Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion.

That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious.

“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”

Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.

“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.”

Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return.

“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”

“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.

“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.

“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?”

Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite.

“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”

Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den.

“So be it, if you insist.”

Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison.

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall.

Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas.

Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.

He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.

Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice.

Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last?

“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”

“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”

“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.

“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy.

“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.”

Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.

Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork.

“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”

“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”

“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.”

“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”

Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer.

“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”

“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”

Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow.

“One note though.” Tav whispered.

“Go on?”

“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”

Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.

Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright.

Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests.

“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party.

The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting.

“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him.

“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room.

“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.

Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion.

“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”

Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.

“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.

Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.

The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.

257 notes · View notes

reverieblondie · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Raphael, and Zevlor with shy gn s/o?

Of course! We can't forget those two! Hope you like it, it did these ones pretty quickly. Last bullet point is NSFW.

BG3 Men with shy gn s/o part 1

Raphael

When his eyes first saw you he couldn’t help but smirk, taking advantage of such a timid little mouse, it was just so easy… However, Raphael was pleasantly surprised when despite your shy demeanor you were surprisingly strong-willed. He always enjoyed a chase… Though you were a person of few words, you enjoyed his poetic ones. You could listen to him for hours practicing his veiled words and he would gladly perform for you. Who wouldn’t love being admired, even by a meek mouse?

Raphael relishes in watching you squirm and blush. All he seems to have to do is a smile or say a teasing pet name towards you. Loves the way your body heats up and shudders as he tempts you with honeyed words. You know you want to be his, how well he would treat his favorite pet. One way you have found to turn the tables and make him the speechless one for a change is to take the poetic words he spoke to you and twist them towards him. He loves a quick wit and the sound of his twisted words from your shy lips.

Careful, he claws and bites. If he’s got you where he wants his little mouse he will mark you at every opportunity. Hickies and bite marks litter your once pristine skin. Your back and sides are decorated with raised red lines from his long nails dragging over your body. You are his and he wants to make sure you and everyone else never forgets that. Once you're feeling bold enough you will try and persuade him to let you mark him. Normally he would refuse if anyone would suggest such a thing, but you are his favorite… He will smile at you as he slowly tilts his head to the side to expose his neck to you simply saying, “You can try, little mouse…”

A date with Raphael is surprisingly tame, thank goodness for your meek heart. A simple game of lance board is what he would suggest for the evening in his House of Hope. Loves to watch you take your time accessing your next move, biting back his smile as you fall into the trap he set. When you lose he says the loser now has to give the winner something, Don’t worry this time it’s not your soul. Raphael has something a tad sweeter in mind.

A slow tsk will leave him as you start to shyly bounce and grind on his lap. You instantly still when you feel him swat your ass. A low groan leaves him as your walls tense around his cock buried deeply within you. The winner decided he wanted his cock warmed while he reviewed some contracts. Be patient little mouse he will deal with you soon…

Zevlor

Being a person of a similar nature, you two would instantly have a connection. Nothing but a perfect gentleman when you first met him, thanking you for helping his people and the grove with a bow of his head and a shy smile to match your own. You two will just be drawn to each other, often finding that you two have wandered into proximity of one another, getting closer and closer as the days go on. Sure you two have your differences but you can just understand each other so deeply and can provide the other with what they need so perfectly. It's like the match between you two was destined by the gods.

Zevlor would never intend to make you flustered on purpose but he seems to do it quite often by accident. The main cause of your red cheeks would be when you are telling him a story, rambling through your words as he listens to you intently. Then before you know it, his large hand is brushing strains of your hair away from your face. Before you know it every time your hair is slightly messy in his presence he is fixing it for you with a smile and a hum. To get him to glow red like you are currently, you will ask to run your fingers through his hair, he might just explode at your suggestion alone. As he pulls his tie from his hair he will lean towards you averting his eyes bashfully.

Expect to get a fresh bouquet of wildflowers every morning when he comes back from patrol. Zevlor is a huge acts of service guy, if you need help with something, it doesn't matter how small he is more than willing to help. Need help changing the bed linens? He is right there on the other side helping pull them down. Does laundry need to be hung on the line? Allow him to do it for you. Low on firewood? He will spend the rest of the afternoon chopping wood for tonight's fire. Maybe he will take off his shirt for you to sneak a glimpse or two.

You and Zevlor are not fans of busy or loud places so your dates are usually very quiet. However on some nights when you two have extra energy from the day you two will have an impromptu sparring match. Zevlor would teach you moves he learned from his time with the hellriders. If you're not well versed with a weapon he will come behind you and show you how to properly hold it. While you're wrapped around his warm arms you will have a moment of bravery and kiss his cheek. You will both be blushing by the end of the match.

When you and Zevlor get intimate he always takes his time with you. Despite his shy nature, he has experience and he knows how important it is to make sure that your partner is prepped. His favorite way to prep you? Man has a full-on oral fixation, he is addicted to your taste and will spend as much time as he needs lapping his experienced tongue on you. Zevlor won't even think about putting in his straining length in you till you have cummed at least once, and if you must know…he always swallows. One should never be wasteful.

262 notes · View notes

glorious-void · 6 months

Text

Some more BG3 fanart of the ship I've taken to calling Hellspawn 😈❤️ inspired by the incredible fic Palmarosa by @not-poignant

372 notes · View notes

reallyhatethiswebsite · 2 months

Text

girl dad Raphael ends my life

He's not unaware of the intense gaze on him. He's ignoring it until his little admirer decides what she wants to say. She's patient, he'll give her that, but in the end she's a child and he has lived for nearly two millenia. He will outlast her. He will -

"You are staring, daughter."

Or not. His blasted curiosity gets the better of him. He has folded his hand in this silent game. He has been bested by this beast of his own creation, and from the way she giggles, she knows it.

"Yes I am, father," she admits, brazen as a bull.

"Would you care to tell me why?"

The creature's mother, lounging on a chaise across the room, hides a smile behind the pages of the novel she's reading. Clearly she finds this amusing. Later, he swears, he will show her something he finds amusing.

"Well, I was just thinking..." says the child, resting her chin on her hands. It still shocks him how small they are. Even fully spread, her fingers don't cover the span of his own palms. Looking at her hands stirs his protective instincts, fatherly instincts he didn't believe he possessed until she came crashing into his life. "Your horns are really nice and pretty but I think they would look even nicer if I put some gems and ribbons on them."

His wife disguises her laughter as a cough. Wretch. He raises a brow at his daughter, otherwise keeping his face neutral as possible.

"My horns are pretty, you say?"

She nods emphatically, kicking her feet. "Yep! They're so big and spirally and spikey. I hope mine look like that when I grow up."

He bites his forked tongue to stem the flow of pride and happiness he experiences. Despite his verbose inclinations, his knowledge of a hundred languages both young and old, he can't describe what it's like to be given such free and unconditional love like that; true to his nature, he hoards it greedily, adding to the ever-growing list in the recesses of his rotten soul of the terrible things he would do to keep this child safe and happy. He is the apple of her eye, and he will raze the Hells themselves to stay that way. Of course, she doesn't need to know any of this, not yet, so instead he fixes her with a placid look and says:

"So, what do we do when we have a theory?"

"Test it!" She shrieks, delighted, and hops off her seat to run to her room and grab her things.

"No running in the house!" He barks after her. There shan't be a repeat of the great statue-collapsing-incident, thank you very much. Tav's expression when she looks at him warms the coals of desire in his belly. He leans back in his seat and preens. When his daughter returns, her arms full of jewellery and ribbons (of course he spoils her; no child of his will want for anything) he lets her - just this once, mind - sit on his desk, obediently lowering his head so she can decorate his crown of horns as she sees fit.

Her theory, in his opinion, is proven correct: he looks fantastic.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #fanfic #kid fic #cringe

231 notes · View notes

space-blue · 4 months

Text

BG3 Fic Feb, comic edition, day 10:

A hard kiss before battle...

I didn't even know about Raphael's ascended form until after I first finished the game. It is glorious and I will be sure to experience it in my Durge game. Anyway, Nia wasn't into Raphael much, but she would have gotten new sympathy for him, I think, if she understood how desperate he is to hide his true appearance. His personality SUCKS, mind you, but he deserves a kiss and to be told the monster fuckers over on tumblr would adore him.

No wings for my sanity's sake.

Kawai version for my freaky mutuals below the cut

Maybe after the challenge is done I might try and colour it. Maybe!

#BG3FicFeb #tav #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 comic #my art #bg3 fanfic prompt #baldur's gate 3 #raphael #bg3 raphael #ascended raphael #raphael the cambion #not so cambion after all #kiss #raphael/tav

226 notes · View notes

mrfancyfoot · 2 months

Text

Raphael x Evie (f!OC) | Fic Rating: E/Varied | Chapter 1 on AO3

Photic sneeze reflex (or autosomal dominant compelling helio-ophthalmic outburst, "ACHOO" syndrome): A condition characterized by successive sneezing induced by bright light.

Raphael's devil transformation makes poor Evie sneezy, plus a reminder of how they met.

Chapter 10: Just a Light Reaction “Oh, humans and their silly-” *gestures vaguely*

Ch. Rating: T / SFW Ch. Word Count: 307 Ch. Tags: POV Evie; Humor; Drabble Ch. Warnings: Slight (General) Humiliation

Read under the cut or on AO3-

With the bright flash of light of his transformation, Evie found herself doubled over in a violent fit of sneezing.

She heard Raphael walk to his desk and pull out his chair to sit. “In all my years of dealing with mortals, I can safely say you have the honor of being the first to have such a-…reaction.” She didn’t need to be able to see Raphael to know the judgmentally amused expression he assuredly wore. “Fear, cowering…apathy, varying degrees of anger. A dwarf pissed himself last ten-day - not uncommon. Sneezing, though, that is new.”

“Oh, dear fox, we are beginning to match with the shade you’ve turned!” he teased. “This reminds me of when we first met. And here I thought it had merely been the occasion!”

She’d rather not be reminded.

Though she frequently saw him in both his devil and human forms, Raphael hadn’t transformed in front of her again since that first time.

Evie further hid her face in mortification.

He’d come waltzing into the camp, started reciting poetry, and she panicked as he introduced himself, promptly informing him, “Sorry, sir, but we’re full on bards.” Things were a bit tense at the time and she had literally just come from separating Volo and Wyll, who had threatened to skewer the bard for his gods-awful playing. Not one of her best moments.

And then the devil whisked her away, and she nearly brained herself on a dining table chair from sneezing after the first time he transformed in front of her.

“It’s the liiight,” she whined out from behind her knees in explanation, now half buried sideways in the armchair as her face throbbed and lungs burned but the sneezing had finally stopped. And then she hiccoughed.

The devil was laughing.

He could never say he hadn’t been warned of her oddities.

❤️ Thank-you for reading! ❤️

#baldur's gate 3 raphael #bg3 Raphael #Raphael x OC #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 raphael fanfic #Plots & Prosody #mrfancyfoot

3 notes · View notes

cambion-companion · 5 months

Text

Wearing His Shirt

Was literally about to go to sleep and was stomped by the idea of Tav wearing only Raphael's shirt, sleepily coming out of the Boudoir to bother him while he drafts a contract.

Raphael x reader (cause I cannot for the life of me write 3rd person) | Drabble

You rolled onto your back, tangled amidst silken sheets upon Raphael's bed. The cambion with whom you'd shared the night was no longer curled beside you. Your skin was still dewed from the heat of his home, the raging fireplaces did nothing to ease the discomfort.

You got up, the marble floor offering a cool touch against your bare feet as you padded towards the doors. Blearily rubbing your eyes, you stooped on your way and picked up a garment which slid easily over your head and gave you a modicum of modesty. A luxurious cotton shirt acting as a tunic upon your body, filling your awakening senses with the musk of your devil.

"Raphael?" You called quietly, the halls outside his protected room still gave you the creeps. You made your way as stealthily as possible towards the light behind the door of his study.

The smell of old parchment hit your nostrils as you eased your way inside and saw Raphael working away at his desk, the clink of metal and glass as he dipped a quill into ink. Raphael marked your entry and raised his hellfire eyes, a brow quirking as he took in your appearance.

"Your own apparel no longer suffices, I take it." Raphael took off his scholarly spectacles, an accessory more affectation than necessity. He leaned back in his seat and reached out to you, a wordless command for you to approach.

You moved into reach and yelped softly as his large hand grasped the front of the shirt you wore and tugged you sharply. You braced your hands against the expanse of Raphael's chest, unsure if you saw disapproval or desire burning in his infernal eyes.

"That is my shirt, sweetling." Raphael rubbed the fabric between finger and thumb, admiring how it fell to the top of your thighs. His tail snaked round your leg, and you jerked at the unexpected sensation.

"You were hardly using it." You protested, gasping when you felt his tail squeeze in response. "It was dark...I wasn't paying attention."

"I hardly am so spiteful as to begrudge you." Raphael took your face in his hand pressing his thumb to your lips, quelling your speech. "Quite the contrary, I could get used to a vision such as this. You are mine, after all." He grinned and kept holding your face firmly as his tail slowly coiled higher. "Brace yourself on the table, pet. You served me a sweet distraction I intend on taking full advantage of."

#hmm a mention of that tail doing things #raphael x reader #suggestive #raphael bg3 #fanfic #drabble #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 x reader

714 notes · View notes

denimaww · 18 days

Text

"Shh, you infernal idiot."

I commissioned @cherriesandsulphur for gifs of these angsty little guys making out, and I am beyond ecstatic at how they came out, so go check their blog out!!

These accompany my fanfiction Contractum ad Solis et Carnis on AO3, of which I just released chapter six!

115 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 5 months

Text

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

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

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

“What are you writing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you insist.”

part three

365 notes · View notes

red-dead-sakharine · 5 months

Text

Tickles - Part 5

Raphael x Tav, RaphaelPOV, soft!raphael, gn!tav, fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship, relatable fumbling, conflicted!cambion, trans affirming*

mood music

*I found worshiping in vague terms somewhat unsatisfying, so I wrote three versions for the chest part: Female, Male, Transmasc. Pick your preferred color for that part, then proceed to the normal text :)

Enjoy!

They lay there for a while. His mouse on top of him, stroking his hair, holding his hand, smiling at him. He smiled back. If time would freeze in this moment, he would not mind. He felt good and happy, being blanketed by his mouse's warm body on top of him. They occasionally lifted their head to kiss his nose - kiss his lips - as if there was a supernatural pull they couldn't resist. He loved it. He loved to see his mouse so happy. Happy with him. He wanted more. More touching. More happiness.

He began to lift his body, and his mouse slid off him, looking at him searchingly. He sought the base of their shirt, slid his hands underneath and paused. Looked at them. Asking permission with his eyes, like they had done. They beamed at him. He pulled their shirt off, dropped it gently off the bed, then looked at them. Beamed back at them. His mouse, so vulnerable with him without fright. Only adoration. He explored their body, moved his hands over their torso, up their sides. He remembered how Tav kissed him, so he did the same. He wasn't sure how much pressure to apply. Worried his kisses were too wet. He looked at their face, and they smiled. But he didn't see the look in their eyes that he figured he himself must've had. He carried on, determined to reciprocate what they had done. He licked around their bellybutton. There was no change in response. He frowned. He was doing it wrong. Tav's licks sent his mind into the fugue plane. He didn't seem to be doing the same to them. He resorted to kissing again. He knew how to kiss - he hoped. His hands roamed clumsily over their body, down their thighs. Whenever he looked up they were smiling with their eyes closed, but nothing more. Some sort of magical component to all this was still hidden from him. He felt a little frustrated and disappointed. He wanted to make them feel like they did him!

He moved up and bent down to trail kisses across their collarbone. Down each breast. He gently cupped them with his hands, massaging them. A quiet moan. His face lit up with delight. He caused that! He felt proud. He payed taxes to their nipples. Gently sucked them, licked them, kissed them, just like they had done. They writhed under his touch, leaning back, eyes closed, mouth open. They enjoyed it. He felt accomplished! He gave the breasts more attention. Licked a nipple. They shuddered. He felt like a king.

He moved to the chest, remembering Tav's ministrations. He ran his nose through their chest hair, then looked up to check. Their smile was bigger. He looked back down, assaulted their nipples with gentle kindness. Kissed them, sucked them. A moan. His face lit up with delight. He caused that! He felt proud. He went back to it, trailed kissed from one nipple to the other, like they had done. Ran a gentle hand through the fluff in between. Licked the other nipple. They shuddered. He felt like a king.

He moved up and trailed kisses along their collarbone. His hands roaming their chest. Finding the scars. Tav stilled. He ran his fingers along the marked skin. Followed it with kisses. They relaxed, sighed. He smiled. His hands kept caressing their chest, while he payed taxes to their nipples. Kissing them. Sucking them. They moaned. His face lit up with delight. He caused that! He felt proud. More kisses, from one side to the other. He gave the other nipple a lick. They shuddered. He felt like a king.

He remembered the other things they'd done, and gently nudged them. Imitating them, he put his face close to their ear and whispered, "Turn around." They complied. He grinned. He ran his hands down their back. He felt clumsy. He didn't know where to go, what exactly to do, but he did his best. He liked the feel of their skin, so he focused on that. Made it as much his pleasure as theirs. Was this the secret? Did he finally figure it out? He enjoyed running his hands over their sides, so he did. He followed their spine with kisses like Tav had done. Kissed their shoulder blades. Kissed their neck. He remembered the other things and moved up, kissing their temple. A bright smile grew on their face. He felt accomplished. He kissed the base of their skull. Something primal in him wanted to devour the mouse. He restrained himself to not bite them. This was not the time for biting. He remembered their sucking though, so he did that. Sucked the soft flesh between their shoulders. They gasped. He felt proud.

He moved down, tugged at their pants. An unspoken question. They lifted their body slightly. An answer. He pulled the pants down. Looked at their backside. He smiled. It was like a delicious cake. He kissed it. They shivered. He was beginning to get the hang of it. He gently cupped their cheeks with his hands. He felt too small. He wanted to grab it all. He ditched the human guise. Tav lifted their head, glanced back, smiled, laid back down. He beamed in adoration at the back of their head. They accepted him no matter his form. He's never felt this comfortable before. He went back to thanking them. Cupping their butt cheeks with both hands. Yes. Better. He was large enough now to take in most of the soft flesh. He bent down to kiss the base of their spine. They sighed. He preened. They couldn't see his wings unfold, as he bent down to trail kisses up their spine again. Holding onto their butt with his big hands. Squeezing it. An amused sound came from the mouse. He looked up. They were smiling, eyes closed. He was confused, but decided this was good. He continued. Ran his hands up their back. More kisses. He tried a lick. They snickered. He frowned. Not the reaction he wanted. He was still doing something wrong! Frustration.

He gently turned them around again like a big spit roast. They looked at him. Beamed at him. Okay, good. He beamed back. His tail wrapped around their ankle. They looked excited. Oh? Okay. He caressed their belly with his hands, and slowly dragged his tail up their leg. They shivered under him. Excited. He grinned at them. Proud. Mischievous. His little mortal enjoyed his truest self - it filled him with joy and a warm comfortable fuzzy feeling.

He ran his claws gently up their sides. They flinched, coiling up like a spring and giggled. He looked at them with wrinkled brow. Question-marks in his eyes. They relaxed again and smiled, "That tickled." they explained. "Oh?" his mind went dark places, "Did it now?" He did it again. They snickered again, their elbows shot down to their sides, trying to protect the vulnerable zone. "Oh no..." he grabbed their arms - firm enough but gently, moved them out of the way effortlessly. Pinned them to the bed with his wings. "I figure you still owe me..." he growled playfully.

"Oh, no! Please no!"

This was no time for mercy. He started assaulting their sides with pokes and teasing strokes. They laughed and writhed under him. He grinned darkly, tickled more. They kept wriggling, giggling and laughing. "Stahp! Stahahahahap!" pleads for mercy in between laughs. He had none. He continued. They had tortured him with this for an agonizingly long time, so he felt justified in doing the same. He kept poking them. His wings held them. They tried to throw him off. His tail wrapped around their legs, holding their ankles together. They could do nothing but suffer. More tickles. More laughter. "Please, please stop! Have-" more violent laughter, "-have mercy! I... I can't breathe!" He slowed down. Gave them a moment of reprieve. They caught their breath, still wriggling in his unrelenting grasp, "I ... I figure I deserved that." they admitted, still an involuntary grin on their face. Good. He gave their side one last poke, listened to the wheezing snicker, then bent down to kiss them on the lips, relaxed his tail, lifted his wings. Their hands found his horns. Held him prisoner in the kiss. He allowed it. When they eventually let go and he broke the kiss, he looked at them with an impish grin, "I do love it when you beg."

There was a pause. Their smile faded a bit, and they searched his face.

He meant it playfully. He didn't want his mouse to beg outside of this setting. He loved how headstrong they were. Their unbreakable spirit was what had drawn him to them in the first place. He had scared them again, he realized. He frowned, "I meant to tease." he explained, and their expression relaxed a little. "Would you be this concerned about that statement, were I just a human?" he couldn't shush himself before the question had escaped him. His nature loomed over him like a giant vulture, ready to peck the happiness away, and drag him back into the bog of minauros to drown him. He looked away, scrunching up his face. He thought they accepted him, but he was still just a devil to them. A danger. A looming threat, underneath it all.

A hand found his cheek, turning his face back to the mouse beneath him. "Yes," they said and he looked at them with confusion and surprise. "We've not exactly plotted out any boundaries. I'd be cautious with anyone at this stage." they explained, with no deceit or judgement in their voice. His face must've been a mix of emotions, for they cupped it in their hands and looked at him with affection. "No pain or injury ...unless agreed upon beforehand. Does that work for you?" they looked at him, unafraid. Just asking.

His ears were ringing. He took one of Tav's wrists, gently plucked their hand off his face and placed a kiss on their palm, then nodded slightly, "I would never harm you." he stated. His words felt clumsy, but they came from his heart. His brain wasn't doing much right now, besides sabotaging his mind with foolish thoughts.

They looked at him and smiled. He looked back, glad he was wrong, but the doubt still gnawing at the back of his mind. Tav looked at him searchingly for a while. Then suddenly there was a spark in their eyes, as if someone had lit a torch. They pulled him into a hug and whispered in his ear, "I trust you." A pause. Then, "You're perfect just the way your are, and I wouldn't have you any other way."

He wrapped his arms around Tav and pulled them up into a sitting position to hug them closer. He used it to hide his face, as he felt his eyes fill with unbidden tears. He had never realized - or admitted to himself - how much he had longed for someone - anyone - to say those words. To accept him the way he was. Half a devil, half a man. Not enough for one world, too much for the other. Disliked and feared for his nature in both. But his mouse... his little mouse... it saw him. It liked him. And it didn't judge.

He could feel his silent tears roll down his face and hoped they wouldn't land on Tav's naked shoulders, but he knew they did. A hand moved up to stroke his hair gently and calming. The other held him tighter. He hoped they wouldn't say anything. He had never been this vulnerable and he didn't trust himself not to lash out in defense. But his mouse was smart. Emotionally a lot smarter than himself. They didn't say anything. They just held him and loved him and supported him, while his protection was flayed away and his deepest insecurity and longing laid bare.

After some time, they did speak; and for a moment he worried they might say the wrong thing. Stab him, while his defense was broken. But they didn't. They whispered in his ear, their tone utterly serious: "And if anyone says otherwise, I'll rip out their eyeballs and make 'em eat them." He chortled and held them tighter. He loved them.

In this moment, his mouse was everything to him. He needed them. He would keep them safe and guard them, like a dragon does its hoard.

He pictured his mouse sitting on a pile of violently dismembered corpses of every devil who had ever mocked him, and he smiled in dark delight. This was a fantasy he could get behind.

He found his joy again - pulled out of the abyss by a heroic little mouse. His tears ebbed away and made way for a mischievous smile. "I could give you a list." he joked. Tav chuckled.

They both held each other tight.

Expelled the shadows with their light.

👉 Part 6

193 notes · View notes