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Raphael had just crossed the shimmering barrier into the boudoir when he was yanked to the side and pinned with an arm across his chest. Fire leapt to his fingertips, honed by countless assassination attempts over the years, until he saw a familiar intense gaze looking down at him, hungry and filled with a carnal lust.
“You’re back,” Haarlep purred out, running a claw under his doublet. “In your favorite form, no less,” they laughed, the sharp point pressing lightly against his collarbone, a pinprick of pain on the delicate human skin that, despite his exhaustion, made Raphael shiver in anticipation.
“Haarlep,” he said, managing to keep his voice steady. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The incubus pouted, an unsettling expression on the face that they currently wore, before stepped forward and pressing their body flush against his. Through the layers of clothing and leather between them, he could feel Haarlep’s erect length against him. “Master has been gone for far too long. Playing with your little mouse and ignoring your poor servant.” A quick movement of their hand sent the white cloth fluttering to the ground.
“You would not understand the meaning of business even if it spat in your face.”
The weight against him shifted and said mouse appeared, the prickly little vampling, an unwilling leader of the band of adventurers with the unwanted cranial visitors that had captured Raphael’s attention so thoroughly.
“How did you get this form?” Raphael hissed, shoving them back. “Change back.”
Haarlep threw back their head and laughed, a sound unfamiliar to Raphael coming from Astarion’s mouth. “No, I think not. I do quite like this form. Very lean… so breakable.” They held their arms out, taking yet another step back to perform a slow turn. The leather straps of their favorite ensemble, if the series of leather straps could even be called that, framed muscles and scars in an admittedly arousing sight. “You could take him in this form, you know.” A pale hand ran down the front of their torso, slowly skating over the abs. As Haarlep hooked their fingers under the strap, Raphael caught a glimpse of what Astarion normally was hiding underneath all of the clothing he wore.
Arousal pooled in Raphael’s gut at the thought of having the elf on all fours beneath him, running his finger down those scars and offering yet another deal– be bound to him and in return, he would give Astarion the power to usurp his master. An Ascended Vampire as a pet would be a lovely addition to his menagerie. Stealing him right out from under his father, an added bonus.
The knowledge that Astarion would feel everything while Haarlep was in this form only served to stoke the flames even further. “You are playing with fire, Haarlep.”
Another shift, this time to the form of the arch-duchess, stalking closer to him. “I think not, Raphael.” Haarlep was ever only bold enough to use his name in this form. “I think I should like you on your knees. But first…” They reached up, firmly entangling their fingers in his hair and pulled him downwards into a deep kiss, taking advantage of his affronted gasp to snake their tongue into his mouth.
It was not a kiss of passion or emotion, Raphael knew, but an utilitarian move, as he felt his heart race faster, the low thrum of pleasure rushing through his veins from the incubus spittle working its way through his system. Haarlep drew back, making an exaggerated show of licking their lips, not dissimilar to a cat who had gotten the cream. “Delicious,” they laughed lowly, watching Raphael closely. He must have looked a mess, hair dishevelled from Haarlep’s grasp in his hair, face flushed in a pale imitation of the color of his true form. “On your knees,” they commanded.
Raphael wanted to gnash his teeth, lash out at Haarlep, remind him who was in charge here. He wanted to force Haarlep onto the bed, tie them there and leave them at his mercy. But they both knew that here, in the boudoir, Haarlep was the one with the upper hand. He did as they ordered, sinking to his knees, the marble of the floor hard underneath him. The discomfort was quickly forgotten, as Haarlep hoisted his leg over his shoulder, giving Raphael a front row seat to a cunt, the puffy lips glistening with evidence of their arousal.
This was familiar… almost instinctual, as Raphael leaned forward, flicking his tongue out to lap at Haarlep's clit. The incubus let out a small moan of approval, emboldening him to continue his ministrations, tilting his head to get a better angle to take the bundle of nerves between his lips and applying suction.
Haarlep yelped, and suddenly, Raphael was being yanked back by his hair. “Gentle, pet,” they scolded. “You must build up to it. Try again.”
Raphael should have felt ashamed, humiliated at being forced upon his knees by this spy sent by his father, to endure being spoken to in this manner. He looked up at Haarlep and spoke, injecting as much contempt into his voice as he could, “Is it not your job to pleasure me?”
That seemed to take them by surprise, as they blinked down at him, before erupting into laughter, their head thrown back. With a snarl, Raphael shoved their leg off of his shoulder and made to stand, to be stopped by a hand on his head.
“Oh, Raphael.” If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Haarlep sounded almost fond . As it was, the words sounded more like a parent chiding their child, an infuriating prospect– he was the master of the House of Hope. “I see that’s how you would like to play.” Haarlep gave him an appraising look before the arch-duchess melted away to reveal Raphael himself but in a different form than the one he currently wore. “What sort of game does the master fancy today?”
Gritting his teeth, Raphael lunged upwards towards Haarlep, with hope that the element of surprise would give him the edge needed. Indeed, they were initially caught off guard, but the size difference between them allowed Haarlep to easily catch Raphael, hoisting him off the ground with a large hand at his throat.
Gasping for air, Raphael reached up, a fruitless attempt at loosening the grip, only for Haarlep to chuckle. “I've always wondered why you were so fond of this weak form, but…” With a few steps, Raphael found himself tossed onto the bed. “I think I'm beginning to understand the appeal.”
In his distraction, Haarlep took the opportunity to leap on top of him with a flap of their wings, straddling him. In this position, Raphael could feel the bulge of the incubus’ (or was it his own?) erection against his lower stomach. “Haarlep, you insolent–”
He was silenced by two large fingers pressing into his mouth– an almost uncomfortably warm intrusion. “Shh, shh, shh.”
Raphael could only glare up at him.
“You are aroused, are you not, master?” Haarlep’s other hand moved downwards, and in a flurry of quick hand movements, Raphael’s shirt was in tatters. The sudden feeling of air on his skin made him shiver, his nipples, already hard from arousal, firming up even further. “Your mouth protests, but your body is oh so honest.” A single claw traced a path from his neck down to his stomach, further ripping the cloth. “What a human reaction,” they mused, staring at Raphael’s chest, before pinching a nipple in between two fingers.
Raphael was not proud of the yelp that elicited, pleasurable pain heightened by incubus spittle coursing through his body. His teeth scraped against the fingers in his mouth, as he caught himself in time to not fully bite down.
“Hm,” Haarlep hummed in consideration, before slicing open Raphael’s trousers, freeing his erection. “How… delightful,” they chuckled, palming it lightly, giving it just enough friction to cause his hips to buck up, seeking for more. “I have noticed that you particularly enjoy this form when you desire a rougher coupling. I suggest that you start sucking.” Their tone of voice was casual, as if having a conversation about the war in Avernus or about the latest debtor passing through the doors of the House of Hope, rather than about his master’s sexual preferences. “It will be the only lubricant you get.”
The aphrodisiac had finally made its way through his entire system, the aching desire to be filled and, embarrassingly enough, fucked hard overtaking his brain. He gathered as much spit as he could in his mouth, difficult with the fingers in the way, as he began laving the digits, twirling his tongue around them.
“You’re so good.” Haarlep murmured as they finally ( finally! ) wrapped a hand around Raphael’s aching dick, stroking it slowly. “Look at how desperate you are, my poor master. Don’t worry, Haarlep is here to give you what you need.”
“Nngh!” The world blinked in and out of existence as Raphael’s eyes fluttered closed when Haarlep’s grip tightened and their rhythm sped up. His legs fell open. He needed more .
The incubus slid their fingers out, holding them up to their face to inspect the glistening skin. “Look at you, listening so well.”
Raphael watched through half lidded eyes, anticipation making his mouth water as he spread his legs further.
Haarlep brought their fingers down and suddenly, Raphael felt himself being spread and filled. Two fingers, from the feel of it.
The effects of Haarlep’s spit was not quite enough to fully eliminate the pain of the stretch, but he relished in it, rolling his hips subtly into the fingers, trying to maneuver them into hitting the spot within him that would bring him to new heights of pleasure. They chuckled. “You needy thing,” they murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Haarlep–” Raphael tried to growl out. It trailed off into a whine when Haarlep chose that moment to press their fingers against his prostate. His back arched off the bed, his own fingers, the nails dull and blunt in comparison to his cambion form's, grasping at silk bed sheets.
Haarlep hushed him softly, their other hand coming up to pin his lower stomach to the bed. “I've got you, Master,” he crooned. “Let this unworthy one take care of you, fill you up until you're dripping with my spend.” Their fingers twisted within Raphael, making him groan and twitch his hips helplessly at the onslaught. His entire body was heating up, matching the temperature of his other form. “Or perhaps… you would prefer for me to plug you up, so that it takes. Have a little one running around here. Lighten the place up.”
The idea should have made Raphael recoil in disgust, at the idea of fatherhood being in his future while the Crown of Karsus was so close in his grasp. And yet, he found that mental image of being kept filled stoked the fire in his lower belly even more. “You–” Another hard press to his prostate made him trail off into a moan.
“Me. That's all you need to focus on right now. Nothing about the crown this, crown that.” Another finger was pressed in alongside the others, making Raphael whine at the slightly painful stretch. “That's it, master. ”
With another hard press against his prostate, Raphael gasped and warm come hit him in the chin as he tumbled over the edge. The fingers disappeared and Raphael lay there, trembling from how suddenly his orgasm took him by surprise.
“Tsk tsk, still as easy as ever.” Shame flooded Raphael, but all he could do was look up at Haarlep. “But I do adore you like this. Pliant.” With a strength that Raphael couldn't even begin to hope to resist, Haarlep flipped him over. “Loose.” He felt Haarlep spread his lower cheeks, investigating his work, Raphael's hole fluttering slightly from how far he had been stretched alone with the fingers. The humiliation burned more than those hands. “So docile for me.”
Somehow, Raphael found the strength to turn his head and snarl out, “Are you going to fuck me or stand there uselessly spouting idiotic poetry?”
His insolence was rewarded with a harsh slap against his bottom, leaving it smarting. “Would you rather me make you sing instead?” Haarlep growled out, a stark contrast to the teasing tone from earlier, one hand coming up to entwine in Raphael’s hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at the intricately carved infernal marble of the headboard. “Let the entire house know how this one pleasures its master. Let them watch as I fuck you .” With that, something girthier than his fingers pressed at his hole, a pressure to make Raphael’s breath catch in anticipation.
Haarlep did not show any mercy, as he forced Raphael to accept their cock in an insistent press that made the master of the House of Hope shout into the pillow. Raphael was intimately aware that Haarlep’s cock in this form- in his cambion form, was much thicker than in his human form. It was almost too much- the delicate human body was not meant to be split open in this manner, to feel the heat of a cambion cock branding him from the inside. He swore that he could feel every ridge and vein.
If there was something that Raphael knew about mortals and humankind, it was that they were determined to do the impossible. And as Haarlep’s hips met his, he felt, for the first time in a very long time, mortal .
Maybe he should have found it quaint, that it took being speared open by the incubus that his father sent to spy on him to be able to relate to the souls that he made deals with with nary a second thought.
Briefly, he wondered how the little mouse would look under him taking his cock.
He was wrenched out of his thoughts, almost brutally, as Haarlep began to move, a practiced movement that wrung small noises out of him with each thrust. The room echoed, reflecting his shame back to him.
“That’s right, master.” Haarlep did not falter, even as he spoke. “You needed this, didn’t you?” A cruel laugh. “And I’m supposed to be the incubus in this room.”
He stopped abruptly, fully sheathed. Raphael could not be sure that this was not more humiliating than Haarlep’s earlier slap. Then, suddenly, the world shifted, and he found himself on top, impaled still.
“Turn around,” Haarlep ordered. “I want to see you.”
With a snarl, Raphael positioned his knees under him, ready to lift himself up and off of the cock. Suddenly, his thighs were being knocked further apart, forcing him to sink further down on Haarlep as he lost his balance.
“Keep my cock in you. I know you can.”
At this point, desperate need and heat was coursing through Raphael’s blood, making his entire body flare with heat, overwhelming and fiery, with the only balm being at least one orgasm at Haarlep’s hands. That was the incubus’ only saving grace from being incinerated right where he lay.
Gritting his teeth, Raphael slowly twisted and turned until he was facing Haarlep. With each movement, it felt like Haarlep was quite literally carving out a space within him, forcing his insides to adapt permanently to every ridge on the cock.
“Good boy.” One of the warm hands took Raphael’s erection, enveloping it. “Look at you,” Haarlep breathed out, slowly stroking the human cock, the foreskin sliding up and down. “So delicate in this state.”
Raphael shut his eyes, focusing on controlling his breathing, determined not to let Haarlep know how much he was enjoying this. Although by the way that his inner muscles were clenching around their length, he suspected that Haarlep knew.
The difference in the size of their bodies was highlighted as Haarlep grasped his waist and began forcibly moving Raphael’s body, easily, as if he was merely a doll meant for Haarlep’s use. The thought should not have turned him on as much as it did.
But with each brutal thrust at the exact angle to brush the spot deep within him that made him seize up and let out a moan, all thoughts of power plays and games flew from his mind, to be replaced by an undying need to cant his hips in the same rhythm Haarlep had established, to chase the feelings of fullness and ecstasy. He fell forward, his entire body now flush against Haarlep’s. His hands landed on either side of the incubus’ head, fisting in the sheet.
Haarlep let out a laugh, derisive and condescending, before they snapped their hips upwards in a motion where Raphael could feel everything . If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that Haarlep’s dick was in his throat, he was so full. As it was, he suspected that if he looked down, he might see the head of that dick– a reflection of his own– poking through his lower stomach. For his own dignity, he kept his eyes shut.
He knew that Haarlep knew his body better than anybody else in existence, that the incubus was the only one whom he allowed to see him in such a vulnerable state. And despite the knowledge that they were sent there to spy on him, to distract him by his father, somehow, he trusted Haarlep.
At this point, Raphael knew he was fighting a losing battle and that regardless of his anger, he would always give in. How could he not?
His entire body relaxed into Haarlep’s.
“That’s it, master ,” the incubus praised. It shouldn’t have been good. Raphael was better than that. He was the son of Mephistophales, the master of the House of Hope, and yet, none of that mattered here, in his bed atop of the cambion form of himself. “Let this one serve you.”
Haarlep’s thrusts were measured, designed in a way that only a devil who thrived off of sexual pleasure could attain. “H-Haarlep…” Raphael murmured out.
“Shh shh shh,” Haarlep shushed him, one clawed hand coming up to pet at his hair in a gesture more intimate than anything else they had previously done. “You did so well.”
Raphael remained silent, only burying his face into the crook of Haarlep’s neck, letting himself get lost in the pleasure of getting fucked. His cock bobbed in between their bodies, leaving smears of precum as it tapped against their lower stomachs.
With each slide against his prostate, he found himself growing closer and closer to the precipice, but he knew it would be difficult to find completion without external stimulation. Something about the movement of his muscles must have clued Haarlep in, as they snuck a hand downwards and began to stroke him. “That’s it, master. Show me how much you can’t live without this. You’ll have overthrown your father and you’ll still want nothing more than to ride my cock. Desecrate his throne by squirming on my lap while the entire court watches. While Mephistophales watches.”
Those words were enough to send Raphael over the edge, as he gasped and stiffened, ropes of white cum painting Haarlep’s chest, almost immediately drying from the heat of their skin.
He trembled through the aftershocks of his orgasm, almost over sensitive as Haarlep growled deep in his chest, his hands gripping Raphael’s hips tightly and burying themself as deep as physically possible within Raphael’s body.
It was too much, the feeling of Haarlep’s cock swelling within him, the warmth of his seed spilling inside him. There was so much; as an incubus, that was the one thing Haarlep could not change about his physiology. It just kept going, flooding Raphael’s guts, until there was too much and he could feel it leaking out around Haarlep.
If he were capable, he was sure he would have been well and truly impregnated in that moment, a call back to Haarlep’s previous words.
“Hells,” Haarlep cursed, as they released their hold on Raphael. “Had I known that was what would send you over the edge…”
The moment of borderline tenderness over, Raphael yanked himself up and off Haarlep, ignoring the flood of seed spilling down his thighs. “Never do that again,” he snapped out. “Do you hear me?”
Haarlep’s mocking laughter in response told him all he needed to know.
And if Raphael were truly honest with himself, he would know that this little game of theirs would continue, but it was a game that he was willing to concede a little in.