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angelgoeslewd · 1 month

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only between us.

🔮 summary: finishing what you started in skirt with Raphael.

⚠️ warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, very graphic mentions PIV sex, lots of spicy horny thoughts and scenes, a bit of religious sacrilege, Raphael being both emotionally and sexually constipated, AFAB! Reader.

Raphael has been alive for more than a millennium.

he’s young, compared to Simeon and Michael, but older than humans can ever even imagine. but all these years....

all these decades and he’s never been quite so taken with someone as much as he is with you.

you captivate his worst imagination; you, a little, unassuming human, a pea in the scope of the layers of the universe — you are the one to drag him into the eternal torment of blasphemy. his lustful thoughts, his unangelic desires to touch you, constantly tossing him closer and closer to falling.

prayers, interrupted by You. the constant turning at night in his own sanctuary, bidding his hardened length to leave him, shaky hands eventually succumbing to sin, sweating as he spills over into his hand and getting all worked up again wondering if you would lick it off for him. is it really a sin to think about how he would worship your body? how he would spend hours between your thighs, nipping and licking and sucking, covering his chin in spit and your slick, making you cum on his tongue until you cry, until his locks are taken into your hands and you beg for him to stop. how can it be such, when it feels so good?

he can practically hear your snarky remark the next day, wondering how he could sneak into the Celestial Realm when he behaves like such a demon in bed. he doesn’t retort. gives you a pointed look, then drops it to your shaking thighs, that you can barely brush together, lest the evidence of your coupling distract you once more.

while you and him shared some sort of… connection, one he couldn't possibly attempt to understand, Raphael wasn’t a mind reader. there was no possible way to know how far your feelings for him extended, you never crossed any lines that came with a loving ‘friendship.’ and while he desperately wanted to ruin it, to create something different, something deeper and more meaningful, he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line.

every moment you were by his side was too precious. he didn’t have any earthly belongings, anything he needed was bestowed or earned… but you. you gave your time, your patience, your kindness to him so freely, even when he knew he crossed the lines of pleasantries. he was utterly taken aback that a human could be so giving. as any angel, he was always taught humans took and took until no more could be given, then they would turn and find more to take. that they ruin and destroy as they did to the Fallen Ones. but here you were. handing him a set of new pens that he had off-handedly mentioned he liked the grip on. and suddenly, he wanted to be selfish too.

if he could just have you, platonically or otherwise, it was worth every second of keeping it status quo.

the most torturous part of the whole arraignment, however, is that you don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him. you sit close to him, far too close, practically on his lap, teasing him with the slight distance, despite all his attempts to get you to actually do so, to play out his most shameful thoughts. you leave your scent on his arm, his shawl, his fucking papers.

he wants to burn them. he wants to bury his face in them and never forget your scent.

he tries so hard not to pay it any mind, but it is as close to home as he gets these days; his mind goes blank when he lifts it to his nose and smells you, vision blinding white in bliss and euphoria, your outline silhouetted every time he closes his eyes.

and those skirts. fucking hell, those short, perversion-inducing skirts. he’d damn them all to hell if he wasn’t currently living there already (physically and metaphorically). every time you wore one, Raphael lost his sense of reality. he’d live in a world of just you, him, and his bed. school and responsibilities be damned. they'd be less fucked than you would be. Raphael would keep you there, you’d have no reason to leave. he could conjure anything you needed with a snap of his fingers. the door to his room mysteriously vanishing from the Purgatory Hall, swallowed up by the void, along with your sweet, sinful moans. only he would hear how you would call for him, your pitiful cries for more of his touch. he would fuck you for every single time your skirt rode up and made him snap a pencil in his hand, your soaked little panties begging for him to push them aside and plunge deep in you. he would tell you to call his name when you came, make you forget about whoever else ever crossed your mind and replace it all with him.

the thought of you being such a little slut for anyone else made him crazy. he wanted to ruin everyone for you. he wanted to push his cum so deep in you that you could never even think of anyone but him doing so. how dare you swish your pleats like that? you even nearly made him break a pen in class once, when he watch you do a little twirl for Leviathan and Beelzebub. ink bubbled from the tip as you strutted back over like you didn’t just flirt with two demons in front of his face, asking with a pout if you could borrow his wrap because you were chilly.

— you, lying on your back on the classroom table, your cunt dripping wet stains onto the white fabric you ‘borrowed’ —

he couldn’t hold your eyes after such a thought. he handed it over to you and left in a hurry for the bathroom.

he would shamefully finish himself there, leaning his head against the peeling paint of the stall, pounding his fist into the metal as he came into his hand, yet again, reminding Raphael of how absolutely fucked he was.

the fact that all these ugly, human emotions came to head simply because of an article of clothing pisses him off. can he not control his mind over such an insignificant little thing?! how is he fit to be Michael’s secondhand!? he could never live up to Celestial realm's expectations if this continued. and it would be found out. he knew it would. they always find out.

he had to train himself. he had to be a better angel for you. you couldn’t have such an impure, deviant partner. he had watched you rebuff such demons, time and time again. and he was acting no better than they were. maybe… maybe if he could expose himself to you in little amounts, those thoughts would leave him… wouldn’t they?

but you. you were all-consuming. a total and complete aphrodisiac to his senses. and you never seem to stop fucking wearing that stupid skirt. did you know what it did to him? were you doing this to test his resolve? his thoughts tainted every time you searched him out wearing that flimsy piece of fabric. Raphael knew he was much stronger than you. he could just rip it off you, hold you up as you bounced on his cock. it didn’t matter where you two were. but whenever he made a decision to make a move, he would get up, meet your innocent, lovely face, and crumble like the walls of Jericho. he couldn’t defile you in such a way. not in this state.

pitifully, his only savior was the gardens. losing himself in something else, something so pure it almost felt like it cleansed him of his sins. or perhaps it just reminded him too much of the Celestial realm, touting its overwhelming, overbearing expectations of perfection and innocence. but it worked. at least it worked.

most of the time.

it seemed today was his absolutely unluckiest day. he was hounded by temptation. of course today was a day you were wearing that damned skirt. the old wives' tale of keeping you awake at night by dreaming about you didn't seem to be true. and of course, last night had to be a night with a dream that was so utterly debauched that Raphael feared the Devildom was eating his angelic nature alive. it seemed like every time he turned, there you were. over his shoulder, trying to “help” him with his assignments, the length of your skirt so short that the bottom just barely reached the top of the desk, even with your frame not being very much taller, making him sweat internally, trying to keep his hands from twitching, from doing something rash and unbecoming, but oh — how desperately he wanted to run his hand up your thigh and see just what your choice of panties were this day.

he wouldn’t necessarily call what he was doing running away or avoiding you. it was simply… just not an adequate environment to work in. that’s it. yes, he just couldn’t get past the fog of thoughts all related to you and what exactly you would do under him, to focus on absolutely anything else. not even his silent prayers were enough to hound them off anymore, and he found himself doing less and less of that and more of what sort of penance to he would pay on his knees to your beautiful— Raphael.

he was just in class with you, and even so, that brief window of opportunity was enough to do him in. he couldn’t stop. his grip on the book clenched, wrinkling precious papers, all because of your hold on him. you, this human who randomly showed up and captured seven demon lords, his former brothers, mind you, and him, in this nefarious web of lust and love and, my god, did he just want it to be over.

he tried to slow his heart beat, looking upwards to the darken sky in desperation to find some sort of relief. was this a test of his own willpower? did Father plan for this to happen? was it just him? was he broken? Raphael was at a loss. How was he ever going to fix this? He couldn’t keep on like this; losing sleep over you, messing up the simplest of assignments because every time he looked down he was reminded of your smooth, sweet legs, peeking out from that skirt.

the crunch of grass is enough to snap him back to reality. he quickly tries to look busy, and exactly not like an angel in utter turmoil, hoping his furrowed brow and tensed shoulders would be enough to drive off whomever came across his little bubble of paradise.

“Raph? There you are.”

Of course. Of fucking course. Smite him now. There was no escaping this eternal hell of sin. The sound of your voice seems to inspire a sort of natural reaction from him, his legs already stretching to get up, book snapped shut and pressed tightly under his shoulder.

“Really? You’re going to try and avoid me again?”

You were always so blunt. Raphael can say without a doubt that he was utterly in love with that, and he felt no shame in admitting that, at least. But now… now it just embarrassed him. He knew, subconsciously, that he wasn’t doing right by you. What kind of friend just avoids another? So many questions he had, and not enough experience to answer them. He supposes that’s why he felt so pushed to run from them. Very much like he would do up above. he can’t even bring himself to turn and look at you when he answers.

“I… I’m not avoiding you.” he cringes. great, now he’s a bad friend AND a liar. What else could go wrong.

“bullshit.” that’s not what he wanted to hear. Raphael slowly turns to face you, he doesn’t want to meet your eyes, but when he finally spins around… they’re right there. you’re search his own for answers, for clues, and he worries for a moment that you might find what he hopes to bury.

“So what do you call leaving every time I come into a room, then?”

“Trying to maintain my dignity,” he breaths out, finding that he’s unable to fib when he’s meeting your beautiful face head on like this. it doesn’t even register in his brain that he’s said it. when it does all click together he’s panicked, wondering how to get out of this, how to leave, how to explain, but your face contorts and twists into something that breaks him further. confusion. hurt. anger. it’s so gorgeously human that if he wasn’t hopeless in love with you that he would spend all day in awe of it.

it’s that thought that finally fits.

the piece he’s been missing, this whole time.

the part of the cog that has his whole body relaxing in utter relief, exhausted with his charade.

he’s been in love with you, this entire time. this lust is just a facade for how much he wants for something he’s not supposed to have. he’s so hopelessly devoted to you that there’s nothing that could come close. he’s never felt this way about the celestial realm, all these years, and all this time he has with you, he’s been doing nothing but thinking about how he can realign himself with them, when it’s obvious that no matter what, he can never think the same after meeting you. no matter what they say about this, about humans. and he’s more than willing to follow this spiral to the end. regardless of what waits at the finish line. there is no other path, no way of redefining or fixing his dedication, for Raphael. because there is only you.

he blinks. you blink. and finally, he’s done running.

he sighs, surrendering himself to the execution of your friendship, and figures he might as well sit down as he ruins everything. the bench is hard and cold under him, and he barely feels it. his fingers shake almost undetectably as he meekly flips through the book that will forever mark the end of this. of you two.

“When… you wear stuff like this,” he admits, shyly, dog-earing a page back and forth, “It makes me feel. A certain way.”

the silence is impregnable. it’s heavy and thick like the celestial realm before rainfall. it’s murky and undecided and so painful that Raphael wonders if being cast out would hurt less than this. he doesn’t look up. he refuses to. he hates to admit that he might actually cry if he does.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I...” the tips of your shoes tap each other.

why are you apologizing? he wonders. it’s me. i’m the one that’s ruining everything.

you’re shaking, he realizes, you’re shaking and it’s all because of me.

“I’m… just gonna go.” his hand reaches for you before you can even move an inch. he doesn’t know what’s happening, or what will happen, but you’re here now, right? and… and you didn’t outright laugh at him or say no, so that should mean something positive. a newly found courage in him has him shaking his head.

“No, no… you’re already here. And it wasn’t right of me not to tell you. It wasn’t fair. You should know,” he says, which is absolutely true. he was a terrible friend for hiding this from you. he wonders if you hear him when he adds quietly, “And I miss you.” he wants you back. he wants you here, with him, by his side, even if he can’t have you in the way he wants, he wants to be selfish and a little human too.

you take a place next to him on the bench, your skirt splaying around your full thighs like a crown of temptation, the thorns that festered this whole mess. yet… Raphael’s head has never felt clearer. he is mesmerized solely by the fact you still choose to sit so close to him that he can feel the warmth of your skin through his clothes.

“I missed you too. It’s why I was so upset. I thought you were angry at me or I did something wrong-”

“Nothing like that,” he cuts you off before you even slightly doubt his intentions. he wants nothing more than to protect you, don’t you see? his mind will be the downfall of you both. but… it seems by doing so, he prevented nothing but your light. your company. your closeness. in trying to circumvent his prophecy, he ran head first into it. he will do better by you this time.

but still. it does nothing to chill or put an end to the loathsome heat inside of his heart for you. the book is a prop in this play, in this act where you both try and pretend there is nothing that hangs between you two. where Raphael pretends that he isn’t still enchanted by your youness and he tries not to glance too long at the skirt you wear and what could blossom underneath, how much he wants to experience it all. and this play is coming to an end… or, perhaps, to its climax?

“Raphael…?” your saccharine voice is all he needs to be push over the edge. he has enough willpower not to immediately toss the object in his hands (that, and fearing what Satan might do if there’s any damage to it) but shuts it nicely and looks up at you.

your breath catches. he’s close enough to hear it and he can’t imagine what you see, but he hopes it’s good. he hopes you like it. and honestly? he’s done hoping now. he wants to do something.

your breath fans his face, lingering warm tendrils on cheeks that heat them to a rosy pink — or perhaps, he’s blushing. who can tell, when you’re both this close to each other. your whisper is lost to only him and the gardens:

“We don’t have to do—”

“I want to.”

his lips catch yours before you can say anything else, he can faintly feel the book slip out from him, dropping to the dew wet ground as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in. you squeak, but let yourself be trapped against him. he loves the feeling of your arms pressed against his chest, the way your fingers fiddle with the delicate gold ornaments and colored fabrics. he wants to feel them on his skin, he wants to feel your nails dig into him as he brings you to orgasm, he wants the catch of your finger pads on his shoulders when he lifts you up and thrusts his cock into your pussy. he leans into you, and you catch the hint, leaning back into his grasp, letting him slowly lower you until you feel the hard rock under your back, his arm still cradling the small of your back, albeit a bit uncomfortably. it’s the he pulls back, tracing the wet curve of your lips, now dripping with spit, sloppily, gasping for air and he combs over your flushed face.

he’s so utterly fucked.

[Continuation . . . COMING SOON.]

#obey me #angelic songs #🍩 of obey me #obey me smut #obey me raphael #obey me swd #raphael x you #raphael x reader #raphael x mc #bitch went full frodo in this fic

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another-lost-mc · 10 months

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RAPHAEL x gn!Reader, 0.8k words, nsfw. Content warnings: Marking/hickies. Possessiveness if you squint. A/N: Inspired by The RAD Vampire Club! Devilgram story.

“This looks fantastic,” you told Raphael as you stretched out your arms in the costume he made for you. It fit you perfectly, and you were genuinely impressed by the craftsmanship of his work. You didn’t expect he would put so much care into an outfit you were only going to wear for one night.

You were surprised when he invited you to Purgatory Hall earlier that week to confirm your measurements. You offered your approximate measurements over the phone, but he insisted he wanted to verify the numbers himself.

“Is that really necessary? I don’t want to waste your time.”

“It’ll be a bigger waste of time if what I make for you doesn’t fit. Who took your measurements?”

“…I did?”

It was embarrassing to think about—the way you twisted in front of the mirror, jotting down your measurements for him and hoping the entire time that the tape wasn't too loose or crooked as you awkwardly measured yourself. You tried your best and hoped that whatever he made would fit, at least.

But then he sighed into the receiver, and you guessed he was imagining how you managed to achieve the numbers you gave him, too. “Come over after dinner and I’ll confirm your measurements myself.”

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom in Purgatory Hall, wearing only your undershirt and underwear, perched on a stepping stool he grabbed from the kitchen he shared with his dorm mates.

You expected him to take your measurements quickly in the sitting room, and maybe he planned on that, until you both realized Solomon was reading on the sofa. Raphael sensed your apprehension and led you straight past the sorcerer and into his room instead.

Raphael’s intense focus while he worked was nerve-wracking enough—you didn’t want to worry about Solomon leering at your half-naked body.

Raphael worked quietly but quickly, drawing the tape measure across your limbs and around your torso. He was respectful, not touching you more than necessary, and you didn't notice his eyes roaming freely over so much exposed skin. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with him in such an intimate position, but there was nothing intimate about this. He was professional about it, and you tried to be too.

He scratched out numbers on the sheet of paper he brought with him—the one with the original dimensions you gave him—and he corrected all of them. He snickered under his breath when he came across one you had measured very poorly.

“Hey, I tried my best!”

He smiled when you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. “You did, but I want you to look your best even if it’s for a silly party. Let me finish this for you and you can be on your way.”

When Raphael met you at the venue to prepare for the festivities, he handed you a zipped-up clothing bag. You put on the outfit excitedly and stepped out of the dressing room for his approval. He gave you an approving once-over, visibly pleased by how you looked in the costume he tailored specially for you. You were delighted—it was comfortable enough to move around in freely, but fitted enough to be flattering on your body.

He stepped closer to you and after a moment of scrutiny, he pulled a loose thread off your shoulder. “You look like a respectable vampire now. Your unsuspecting victims won't stand a chance.”

You admired yourself in the full-length mirror when he walked away and started tidying his supplies. “Are you coming to the party too?”

His reflection in the mirror shook its head. “I’m not sure I understand the appeal of blood-sucking, even if it's only pretend.”

“I’d let you try, if you're curious,” you joked, looking over your outfit one more time as you smoothed down the front of your jacket.

Your eyes shot back up when you felt something—someone—at your back. Raphael had moved behind you suddenly, and his bright eyes caught your gaze in the mirror. He pushed down the collar of your shirt—gently, so he didn't ruin the lace trim—and bent his head.

His hair tickled the side of your face when his lips brushed against the side of your neck. He hummed when you gasped, and he pushed down a little firmer with his mouth and sucked. He was careful enough so that it didn’t hurt, but there was no mistaking the hint of teeth that scraped your skin before he lifted his head and stepped back again.

“Perhaps I’ll see you the party after all,” he murmured, licking his lips as he turned away. He was out the door, closing it behind him with a decisive click before you could even respond.

You were frozen in place, overwhelmed by the tingling sensation radiating from your neck and the erratic heartbeat hammering in your chest. You leaned forward and stared at your reflection in the mirror. There was an unmistakable mark on your neck now, blooming purple just above your collar where everyone else would see it.

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devildom-moss · 3 months

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!!! OPEN REQUESTS YEAHH!! Okay so because I'm an absolute bitch for religious guilt - could I request Raphael having to tap out during his first time having sex with MC? Like he thought he was ready but it very quickly becomes apparent that He Is Not.

Eons later, but I hope you will like this one anon. I had fun with it once I really got into it. Please excuse if the end feels a little abrupt though. There is a little bit of hand stuff, and I really tried to work in that religious guilt as best as I could. Enjoy~ also what? I'm giving it a title??

Absolution

(Raphael x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (no sex, heavy petting, check-ins, heavy religious guilt, stopping after foreplay, revoked consent)

Word Count: +2,300

Raphael’s restraint was a great creature he had crafted beautifully with something mythic to its strength. Even in his merciless rain of spears, he had always held himself back. That was, in his mind, one of his virtues: a holy skill he had mastered more artfully than most. He was not void of temptation, but Raphael practiced a strict divine denial.

Yet now that you were finally alone in his room, Raphael struggled to suppress his need. He had so seldom wanted the touch of another angel – let alone from someone as forbidden as a human. But with you, the feeling that spread through his body was stronger than “want.” It ached and burned. Perhaps, Raphael figured, that was what he deserved for the intensity of his lust and the depth of his longing; it was all so sinful, the way his mind traced the outline of your body hundreds of times before his fingertips ever dared to, so perhaps he had earned this painful, convoluted desire.

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked him nervously – careful not to get your hopes too high. Scanning the room, you could tell he had cleaned since Simeon’s last lament about the state of Raphael’s and Solomon’s living conditions. There were still sewing supplies in odd corners with random scraps, bobbins, and assorted tools adorning nearly every surface, excluding a chair and his bed. You had hoped that focusing on his room would distract you from a delusional desire: that Raphael had dragged you into his room to finally fuck you. Or, at least, it would have been delusional had he not been staring at you in a way that sent shivers up your spine as your eyes landed on his soft face.

“You’re so enticing.” Raphael’s words hung in the air. His hands reached for you, barely grazing the skin on your forearms as he dragged his fingertips down to your wrist and traced over your hands. In Raphael’s cautious mind, you were molded perfectly, and if he touched you with the force of his desire, he might change your shape forever. He knew an angel should never interfere with the lives of humans. Certainly then, that meant he could never touch your body in the lecherous ways he wanted to.

It seemed he was blind to his own allure, even as you were drawn into him by his pure blue eyes. You tried to make it chaste when you kissed him, smothering the wanton black hole in the pit of your stomach that threatened to consume you both. The sudden warmth of your body spread through Raphael. Even the sunlight that kissed his skin in the Celestial Realm could not compare.

His cheeks burned, and he felt that he might combust and be cast from the heavens for indulging in the simple pleasure of your body. Yet he pushed and pulled for more, dragging you towards his bed as his lips continued to move against yours in a heated frenzy. You toppled over him with the wanting grace of a human, pressing his shoulders deeper into the mattress as you tried to steady yourself.

“I��m sorry. I didn’t expect you to pull me into your bed so suddenly,” you laughed sheepishly to distract from your racing pulse. Raphael rarely kissed you like that – like he wanted you more than words could ever say. It flustered you in the way that one who does not voice their desires might be fazed when handed exactly what they silently hoped for – a combination of embarrassment, surprise, and delight.

“I don’t mind.” He was as serious as ever despite the faint pink flush on his cheeks. Perhaps that made you all the more hopeful. Raphael stared up at you with an equal desire. “Keep going.”

Following his request, you slid your hands from his shoulders, down his arms, and took hold of his hands, intertwining your fingers and pinning him on either side of his head. He let you take the lead, leaning down to capture his lips in another desperate kiss.

In a way, Raphael believed that if he let you take control, he could take less accountability for his lust. He was simply following your movements, bending to your desire. You could reshape him however you pleased if it meant he could have you. Maybe it would be okay for you to touch him. Maybe he could be forgiven if you used him.

You kissed down his neck, your breath tickling his skin. As much as you riled him up, Raphael restrained his voice and stayed quiet – save the sharp inhale when you bit him and the trembling of his breath afterwards.

“Are you okay?” you asked, pulling away before you had the opportunity to properly mark him. His willful silence – that awful habit of subduing himself – left you wondering if he was enjoying the feeling of your lips on his skin.

“I’m alright.” Raphael smiled up at you softly, panting slightly. “It feels nice. Your mouth is so warm.”

His admission sounded sweet and compliant – as if his silence was due to a lust-filled daze that had engulfed him. He looked so cute with that glazed over sheen in his eyes. “Can I touch you more?”

“I think –” Raphael started, “I’d like that.”

You let go of one of his hands to slide your fingers up his exposed abdomen, sneaking them just under the hem of his top. He shuddered at your touch. A faint blush rose on his cheeks, and he stared up at you, eyes hazy and lidded and more overcome with pleasure than before.

Beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, your middle finger danced gently over his heart before you dipped down to kiss him again. Raphael melted against you, kissing back greedily. He could barely taste you with his dulled tongue, and yet he craved more. Even your subtle flavor burned in his mouth, but it wasn’t enough for him. The sheets crumpled in his free hand from growing frustration. Would a weaker angel have caved in and touched you? Would a stronger one resist you harder – never finding themselves in this position under you? Would they have felt the pull less like that of a black hole? Perhaps like a star? Perhaps you would not even be a heavenly body. Perhaps to a stronger angel, you were nothing, with no pull of your own.

As you brushed your thumb over his nipple and deepened the kiss, you earned a low groan – as if Raphael was shocked by the sudden pleasure. No one had dared tease this celestial body before you. He would never allow it.

When you pulled back, he was panting and flushed in an erotic daze unfitting for an angel. Your name left him in a whine, “MC. More.”

His free hand slid up your neck, and he pulled you back to him, crashing his lips against yours. As waves hit the shore in a growing storm, the pleasure washed over him and threatened to pull him under. He grew more desperate and eager. He had already laid his hand upon your body. It would be a shame to stop.

You pulled the occasional whimper from his chest between heavy panting and the sound of your fervent kissing. When Raphael broke the kiss, you refused to take the time to catch your breath and, instead, dipped down to kiss up his sternum, pushing his top up as you did. He moaned softly under every brushstroke of your lips.

Somehow, your wariness had not left, ran hiding at the prospect of having such a beautiful, deadly creature in your grasp. You knew you’d never gotten this far with him before. You wanted to tread lightly, but your caution only tormented Raphael. He wanted you to take him before he could think about it – before the guilt could consume him faster than the pleasure.

“Take your shirt off,” he demanded. “I want to see you.”

You let go of him, counting the scarce seconds it took to discard the shirt, tossing it – unintentionally – in a heap of its fabric relatives. It took six seconds before your hand was re-laced with his. Raphael followed where your hands connected, up your arm, and over your chest. He admired every inch like you were a saintly statue, suddenly immovably beautiful. No matter how he touched your body, you were incorruptible.

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, sounding like some benevolent saint, in Raphael’s ear. Your hand slid down his chest to the bulge in his pants. He had been so focused on the feeling of your touch – every burn caused by those beloved fingertips – that he had hardly noticed how much you affected him until you brought him to attention. Raphael keened when you caressed him, overcome by the intensity, the sharp pleasure – a lament for his own innocence. It was the loudest declaration you had received from him, and it was a mess of anxious rapture. You stopped in surprise. “Are you alright? We can stop if –”

“No. Don’t,” Raphael cut you off. His eyes were damp with unshed tears. “I can take it. Please?”

To whom he was begging, he did not know. Was it to you, whose affection had ensnared him in sin? Was it to his maker, to allow him this simple ecstasy – to reward his centuries of faithful resolve? Was it to himself – one last plea for the return of his restraint? Was it to his weakness, to overcome his fear and bless him with one sacred union?

“If you want to stop,” you bit your hope back to reassure him, “just say the word.”

“Touch me. I want it,” he insisted – still half to himself.

With the sweet, needy look on his face, you didn’t need much convincing. You undid his pants and released his aching cock. Raphael shut his eyes tight, unable to bare the tenderness in your eyes as you stroked him slowly. He had never felt pleasure like this before. The room spun and seemed to dissolve into the ether.

“I’m going to use my mouth now, okay?” you warned him, kissing down his pelvis.

“Wait!” Raphael’s eyes shot open, and he squeezed your hand desperately. “Don’t. I’ll. . . I can’t.”

You sat up quickly and watched as he covered his eyes with his arm, coveting a place to hide his shame – somewhere no one could find it. He hoped to hide where he would not be marked by your touch nor stained with your scent. Or better yet, he wanted these acts to not debase him so. Raphael felt dirty and impure – a disgrace of a seraph that, he expected, would unfurl tainted wings had he dared to test his own sanctity. I’m an angel, he reassured himself, I couldn’t spill into their mouth like some depraved creature. One could touch a perfectly sculpted statue and it would remain, but to paint it – even with angelic fluid – would be an affront to your creator. And suddenly, he worried, What would Michael think?

It was clear that he wasn’t ready. You got off him, but when you tried to remove your hand from his, he tightened his grip and refused to let go. Confused about how much distance would comfort him, you rolled over on your back next to Raphael and inched closer without ever touching him – except through the single point of contact he had clung to. From there, he could feel your warmth without rapidly colliding with your body, resulting in his sole disastrous ruin. He stared up at the ceiling, and your eyes followed his as if he had guided you to face the heavens with him and repent.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me.” Raphael whispered so quietly that you doubted yourself.

“Are you asking me. . . or Him?”

“Both, I think.” Raphael managed a rueful smile, the corner of which you caught in your periphery.

“Well,” you mimicked his mournful look, “I can’t speak for God, but, it’s okay.”

“I wanted to, but. . .” he trailed off, grasping for something to justify himself – anything that would rectify him, even under the many scrutinizing eyes of the Celestial Realm.

“It’s okay,” you reassured.

“But it’s not. I’ve sinned. My thoughts betray me when I’m around you.”

“Oh.” That was all you could offer – a guilty sacrifice of a syllable that was as empty and baseless as compassion could be. You wished you had more to give.

“But I don’t want to be apart from you.” You were appeased.

“I don’t want to be apart from you, either.”

Raphael turned to you, eyes damp and pleading but still burning. He spoke just above a whisper, “I want absolution.”

“What?” You turned to him with your eyes narrowed. “From me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how to give you that. I’m not a priest, and you’re an angel. What do I even say?” His request flustered you terribly. He may as well have asked you to bear responsibility for his own fall. He adored you, and it was all your fault. Only you could sanctify him again, but you had no clue how. “I forgive you. Is that enough?”

“Can you kiss my hand?” he asked you sweetly.

You reached over to take his other hand in yours and brought them both up to your lips. “I forgive you.”

You placed another kiss on his hands. It was a crude, informal cleansing – vulgar in its execution and in the rush of thoughts it inspired that flooded Raphael’s mind. And yet, he felt himself purified and restored to glory. So sweet was your vindication that he would risk himself anew.

“I may be tempted again,” he admitted. “Would you wait for me and absolve me once more when it’s over?”

#requests #ask #anon #spice tier #gn!mc #raphael #obey me #obey me raphael #raphael smut #raphael x reader #raphael x mc

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deviljesterlamb · 2 months

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Raphael x GN!MC

Just imagined Michael taking Raphael's form again while visiting Devildom again. But this is during the time Raphael and you started dating. Only Michael had no idea you were going out yet.

So when Michael shows up as Raphael, you gives him a kiss for hello. But Michael is so surprised by it and confused, he just stumbles backwards while blushing intensely, then runs away.

You are now with Asmo, upset over this all. Feeling like you messed up. While Michael is back home, stilling trying to process what just happened. Then Raphael shows up to give Michael something, but Michael just blurts out "MC KISSED ME AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

The look Raphael gives to Michael as he makes a roll of spears appear. While asking in a threatening tone "THEY DID WHAT?" Will haunt Michael for the rest of his life.

Cue Michael finally explaining what happened, mainly to save himself. And then Simeon coming in to try to calm the situation down more.

Anyway, Michael is forbidden from pretending to be Raphael now...

But Michael can't stop thinking about that kiss. Your lips did feel soft and warm...He can't help but envy Raphael now...

(Also Raphael will have to try to reassure you everything is okay, but tries to not bring up it was Michael pretending to be him...Else that will open another whole set of issues.)

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me imagine #obey me raphael #obey me michael #obey me simeon #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #raphael x mc #raphael x you #raphael x reader #raphael x y/n

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 years

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Touch your Wings - Obey Me (Angels)

Simeon

“Can I touch your wings?”

“That was very sudden.” Simeon remarked with a slight chuckle. “Why would you want to touch my wings?”

“I don’t know. I just realized I never touched them before.” The angel chuckled again at your honest, but whimsical, answer. “Come on. Can’t I touch them? Just once?”

“Welll…” Simeon mused. Putting his fist to his chin in thought like he normally did. “I guess there wouldn’t be any harm in just the one time.”

His cloak fluttered, as if caught up by a sudden gust of wind, and then his wings were out behind him. Four distinct points that folded in beside him. “Have a go then.”

You smile at Simeon. At ease by his gentle enthusiasm and patience. He always seemed to put you at ease. You reach out and brush your hand over the middle center of one wing, and it shuttered back at you. “S-Sorry,” Simeon apologized with a blush, “it kind of tickles.”

He seemed to steel himself a let you try again. They were very soft. Almost silky. You’d never touched a dove before, but you have to assume this was what they felt like. A creamy soft that felt like it would melt against your touch.

You make one final pass over Simeon’s wings and they shutter again. “Oh no!” You exclaim when you noticed a feather had broken free and fallen to the ground. “I’m so sorry! Did that hurt? I didn’t mean to be so rough with them! I thought I was careful!”

Simeon knelt down, as he pulled his wings back in to disappear, to pick up the lost feather. “Don’t worry [Y/N]. These things happen. It doesn’t hurt anymore than when your hair falls out, so please don’t apologize.” You sighed once. Well that was good to know.

The angel then stood and offered you the feather with a smile. “Why don’t you keep it? It will remind you of the time you touched an angel’s wings. And…it’ll remind you of me.” He chuckled again, only nervously this time, as he rubbed the back of his head.

You smile back at him and take the feather. “I’ll treasure it always Simeon.”

Luke

“Can I touch your wings?”

Luke let out an adorable squeak of surprise at your question, and nearly dropped his crepe he had waited so long for. “M-My wings??”

“Yeah. Can I touch them? I only got a glimpse at them that one time,” in the not of best circumstances and before you passed out, “and they looked really soft. So I was wondering if they’re as soft as they looked.”

“W-We’re not supposed to let humans touch our wings. It’s against the rule!”

“Oh….” You didn’t know that. That seemed like an oddly specific rule, but then again the human world placed a lot of weird rule on the world. Like the authority of velvet red ropes. Or letting people tell other people what they could do with their bodies.

“But!” Luke corrected quickly. Seeming to mistake your musing for disappointment at being turned down. “I…I think it’ll be ok if it’s you. [Y/N] is special and…you’re a descendant of an angel, right??” Technically yes, but grasping at straw. “So…I think it’ll be ok. But don’t tell Simeon!”

You hold up your finger in the gesture of a pinky promise and Luke turned to look forward as he squeezed his eyes very tight.

He seemed to be concentrating very hard, to the point that you wanted to tell him to just forget about it if he had to work that hard, and then poof. Poof! An actual poof!

Luke’s wings suddenly bloomed out from the back of him like a puff of dandelions. Seeming only held together by wishes and Luke’s concentration to keep them stable. “So fluffy…..”

The angel whipped his head back towards you. Face pink as he looked up at you with big blue eyes. “They-They’re not fluffy! These are my cherub wings. When I get older, and Michael promotes me to archangel, they’ll be bigger and more sleek.”

“Like a baby chicken’s wings?”

That was apparently not the answer Luke wanted to hear as he started to throw a temper tantrum, but you reach out and put your hand on his shoulder. Instantly stopping him. “I think they suit you very well. They’re cute. But you can also see we’re they’re growing in a little.” Your finger brushed against the corner of his wing arch that was indeed coming in in more traditional feathers. “It shows your growing too.”

Luke seemed surprised, but then beamed at he realized he was getting his ‘real’ wings.

It took a few minutes for Luke to get his wings back down, and he seemed to have a pep in his step for the rest of the afternoon. You were happy for Luke but had to admit, you were a little sad.

Soon enough he wouldn’t be the cute little Luke you knew. He’d be someone totally different. With different wings and a different personality. To hold on a little longer, you took him to Madam Screams to get him some candy he’d been asking for to take home. To keep him a kid a little longer.

Raphael

“Can I touch your wings?”

“No.” Raphael instantly. Leaving no room for argument.

But living with Lucifer & the boys for so long, that rarely ever stopped you. “Awww~! Come on!”

Your usual cute defense that worked wonders on the boys, doesn’t not seem to sway Raphael in the least as he repeated his answer. “No. My wings are not a toy or method of amusement for a human.”

“It’s not ‘amusement’. It’s science!” Going with plan B that usually worked on Lucifer and Satan. “I wanted to know that they felt like, and the easiest way to do that is with practical application.”

“My wings are also not a science experiment for humans to blunder understanding on.”

The word ‘blunder’ made you feel insulted. Like Raphael thought you were too stupid to understand the concept of wings. “You don’t have to be rude.”

“I’m not being rude.” Raphael said. Clearly not understanding how he had been rude. “I’m stating a fact that a human couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of a celestial’s wings. It’s like a fish understanding a bird’s wings.”

“Did you just call me a fish?”

“No. I implied you were a fish.”

You growl at Raphael’s comment, and his now infuriatingly calm face, and turn away from him. “Fine. I don’t want to touch your wings anymore anyway.”

You expect Raphael to leave at your huff. Assuming that you were done and the most logical step would be for him to go on about his day. You don’t expect the tip of a wing to come into your peripheral, and for you to turn around to see Raphael and his wings standing there.

“I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I?” His face still looked neutral, but you could pick up on the little changes in his expression that let you know he was sorry. “I don’t think you’re a fish. It’s….” He seemed to be struggling for the words. Because he didn’t express himself often, only stated facts. “My wings aren’t like the ones you may have hoped to see. Because I’m of the warrior class, they are not like the romantic paintings of your humans.”

He was right. They were different than you expected. Long and board, they also had a grey hue to them; that ombred from the wing sharp peaks at the top to a heather sort of gray at the tips. Dusty, almost, and not nearly as graceful as you imagined. They looked more like a bird of prey’s feathers would look, rather than something a being of protection should have.

“I don’t think your beyond understanding. I…I just…I couldn’t stand the though of being beyond your understanding.”

You were suddenly taken aback by Raphael’s words. He had been afraid that you wouldn’t understand him. That you would see his wings and reject him. You had no idea you opinion of him mattered so much.

“I think your wings look nice.”

Raphael looked up, in his own manner of surprise, at your words. “No, they don’t look like what I thought. But they…suit you.” Yes, that was the phrase you were looking for with a smile. “I don’t think I would like them as much if they didn’t look like that. They have character. Thank you for showing me Raphael. I appreciate it.”

The angel still seemed flabbergasted, but then he smiled slightly, and pulled his wings back in. “Character.” He repeated in a wistful sort of way. “Thank you [Y/N].”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me simeon #obey me raphael #obey me luke #angel simeon #simeon x reader #luke #angel luke #obey me raphael x mc #raphael x reader #scenarios #imagine #obey me fandom #raphael x mc #obey me x reader

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kurooblossom · 1 year

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MC HAS AN NIGHTMARE (PART 3)

♡ Characters: Barbatos, Mephistopheles, Raphael

♡ Warnings: established relationships (various types), fluff, gender neutral, light angst, not proof read

♡ A/N: ...I didn’t intend to take over half a year to write this final part. 😅 On the bright side, I have finished the normal lessons since the last post sooo. 😂 I’ll take whatever wins I can get.

I do apologize for not doing a part for Thirteen. I couldn’t get anything down that I would be happy with and I just wanted to get this out since everyone else was already done. I don’t know if there will be another part for her specifically, but I guess we’ll see. No promises there.

♡ Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3

With fresh tears still in their eyes, MC rolled over in their bed and reached for their D.D.D. With shaky hands, they scrolled through their contacts until they found their name. Despite the time at the top of their screen, they pressed their name and dialed him.

♕ BARBATOS

The demon butler is in the midst of his daily chores around the Demon Lord’s Castle when his D.D.D vibrates in his pocket. It’s late in the night and the vast majority of Lord Diavolo’s daily tasks are done, so he freely reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. His eyes lit up when he saw MC’s name across the top of the screen.

“Hello?” He answered, a small smile on his lips.

At first, all he heard is the faint sniffling from the other side, and admittedly, he thought the human maybe accidentally called him, but that thought was quickly dismissed when MC’s voice comes across the line.

“Barbatos?” They squeaked out.

“Yes, MC?”

“I-” they managed out before breaking out into around round of sobs.

“Where are you? Are you at the House of Lamentation?” Barbatos asked after a moment. MC hummed. “I’ll be right there.”

Be right there he was. The demon butler opened a portal to the human's room and stepped through. His shoulders fell at the sight of the human. They were curled up underneath the lavender sheets, curled into their mountain of pillows, tissues in their grip.

Silently, he crossed the room and crawled onto their bed behind them, wrapping his arms around their waist. The human immediately relaxed into his embrace, whimpering slightly as he pressed a kiss to their temple.

“Everything is okay now, my dear,” Barbatos murmured. “You’re okay.”

The demon butler didn’t know what had spooked the human, but he would wait to find out. What mattered was making sure they were okay.

♕ MEPHISTOPHELES

Mephistopheles was still at his computer working on the next edition of the newspaper when he sees his D.D.D light up in his peripheral. Begrudgingly, he grabbed the device when he saw the contact displayed on the bright screen and answered.

“This best be important, I’m busy—“ his words die on his lips when he heard MC’s sniffle on the other side. “MC?”

“Mephisto…” MC sniffled.

“What happened?” He frowns.

Through sobs and sniffles, the human explained the best they could about what had happened, leaving out the details they didn’t care to share. The demon sat patiently on the line, softly reassuring them when their breath hitched, reminding them to breathe much like when he does the same for his younger brother. Eventually, when MC finishes, they go quiet for a moment. Unsure of if they should ask about the question that lingered in their mind.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Mephisto asked softly. “I can practically hear the gears turning from here.”

It was silent for a moment on the line before they meekly said.

“C-Can I come over?”

"Always. The door will always be open for you.”

The human slightly smiled at the change in the demon’s character, his cold exterior gone, replaced temporarily with a warmer one. Knowing better than to point it out at a moment like this, they kept their note of his change to themselves.

“I’ll be right there.”

♕ RAPHAEL

The angel was doing laundry with Solomon when his D.D.D vibrated on the coffee table next to the piles of clothes. He thought nothing of it as he answered when he saw the contact pop up on his lockscreen. The human sorcerer he lived with regularly was up until the early parts of the morning, maybe MC was just like him?

“Raphael?” MC called out meekly when he answered.

“Yes?” Raphael frowned.

The angel stood from his place next to the sorcerer, silently dismissing himself before he stepped into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. His frown deepened as they sniffled and sobbed into his ear.

“I need your help.” The human cried. “Can you come over?”

“I’ll be right there,” Raphael replied with no hesitation.

Raphael was true to his word. He was quick to leave Purgatory Hall, calling out to Solomon as he left, and arrived at the House of Lamentation in no time. He texted MC just before he arrived, telling them of his whereabouts so they could be ready for him.

When the angel arrived, he was eagerly greeted by the human. The front doors opened and MC rushed into Raphael’s arms. His eyes widened at the sudden and unfamiliar contact, but he didn’t pull away. Carefully, he readjusted them and wrapped his own arms around them, leaning his head against theirs as they nuzzled into his bare neck.

“Thank you.”

#barbatos x reader #mephistopheles x reader #raphael x reader #barbatos x mc #mephistopheles x mc #raphael x mc #barbatos fanfic #barbatos fanfiction #Mephistopheles fanfic #mephistopheles fanfiction #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

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I will literally take the scraps for Raphael from obey me anything about him pleaaaasseeee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Raphael is one of the quietest characters and is therefore, based on very real scientific statistics, almost certainly the kinkiest.

specifically he gives me wax play vibes. i cant explain it, he just does. oh, and he’s a degradation GOD (no pun intended).

he’s also the only one who likes solomon’s cooking, which is like…a big deal, so i wouldn’t be surprised if Solomon was invited into your dynamic every now and again.

want to participate in my ask game? send me a character + an NSFW question about them!

#obey me shall we date #ask game #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #raphael obey me #raphael x reader #raphael x mc

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luxthestrange · 10 months

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Incorrect quotes#846 WOAH-

Mc*Is Playing hide n seek with Luke and the other young angels*1....2....3!!!-

Baby Angels*Squeals as Mc runs to find places to hide*

-Watching their interaction,Michael and Raphael watch over them-

Mich: Do you think they whimper?

Raph*nearly breaks his neck turning to look at him*!?!-

Sim*Coming in with lemonade and cupcakes without even hesitating*They do more than whimper~

Mich & Raph*Both look at him in shock*!?!

Sim*Going to give them their snacks, turns around to smile "innocently" at his brothers*

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omnomnb · 4 months

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anyway what i've learnt is that raphael has the potential to be even more sad tortured sopping wet puppy than lucifer and i hope the writers capitalise on this

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me raphael #bro sobbing while he carries out that which he is duty bound #weeping from the soul bc of the conflict between your personal pathos and societal ethos all by yourself handsome?#i hope in my heart of hearts that his eventual arc will involve mc helping bandage his wounds like an injured old dog they found in the rai #raphael x mc #saying things

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seraphob · 9 months

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seraph kisses ⊂((〃/⊥＼〃))⊃ (please forgive my self indulgence)

p.s. Seraph = Seri + Raphael 🤍✨

#digital art #obey me #obey me fanart #obey me nightbringer #rkgk #obey me shall we date #obey me raphael #raphael obey me #raphael x mc #raphael fanart #obey me mc

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ducking-quack · 1 year

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I can’t stop thinking about the time someone told me that freckles and beauty marks were meant to be angel kisses

I cant stop imagining Simeon’s or Raphael’s lover being covered in them,

some on spots like the cheek or forehead, inner forearm and shoulders, then others where the sun don’t shine

Or when people say moles and beauty marks are kisses of past lovers

Like imagining throughout your entire lifetimes, you were always meant to be with Simeon or Raphael or both then your body is covered head to toe with some kind of beauty mark

Then you fine odd ones like some on your knee because after skidding your knee and putting on a bandaid you made them kiss it better, or on your elbows after bumping them so hard that you needed a kiss to make it better or middle of your back has a cluster of them because they’d give you a peck and cuddles into your back

Or after figuring out that their kisses left marks on your skin, they’d kiss constellations into your skin in hopes to find you in your next life

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angelgoeslewd · 11 months

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is she the other girl? (Raphael’s Part)

🔮 summary: inspired by this post, Raphael is rumored to be seen getting cozy with another women. you, though not officially dating him, get a bit jealous and confront him about it.

🎧 listening pairing: ava. natalie jane.

⚠️ warnings: heavy angst, some language, bad coping skills.

[BARBATOS, DIAVOLO, SIMEON, AND SOLOMON COMING SOON!]

Raphael was not known for his social personality. there were definitely a lot of rumors and gossip going around about him, but many of them had to do with his sarcastic demeanor, his cold shoulder, and blank face. all of it was pretty much bullshit and you easily tuned most of it out. except the day you were in the library, sorting through books to find a specific one he had recommended reading alongside the other he gave you, a touching gesture to you, though to some it may have seemed like he was trying to look down on you, like you wouldn’t understand his book unless you read its companion. but to you? you cherished the fact that he shared something with you, something you knew he liked. he simply wanted you to see it from his eyes. and that’s when it happened.

two fellow students came around the corner to your side of the library, hushed whispers in between the rows of book. it wasn’t unusual, but the minute you caught whiff of Raphael’s name being dropped, you felt you owed some sort of defensiveness to the angel who had so kindly gave you his reading recommendation, straight from his own shelf, and instantly turned to jump in, a decision you usually chose not to make. and did you ever regret it.

“-I know! Who’d ever thought it? Mr. Holier-Than-Thou, neva seen a smile a day in his life got game!”

“You’re sure it was her? She’s so pretty! What does she see in him??”

“I know!! That’s what I said- but, and get this, apparently she was wrapped around his arm the whole time! They went to a bunch’a places! This fancy restaurant on Main, some sort of jewelry shop… like a ridiculous amount of money had to have been spent on her! I dunno what it is, but Raphael’s got it!”

they both laugh and being to walk away, the sound of their voices fading as they do. you standing there with your raised hand, pointed into a wagging finger, and let it drops to your side as you blinked at their words. Raphael… had a girlfriend? He had a girlfriend? That you didn’t know about? He was a very private person, but he didn’t seem like the type to lead you on. Especially when he was treating you so special now… the way he beelined to sit next to you, how he shared his things with you, asked you to spend time with him more… you thought he was the type who would only do things like that when he was interested in someone. did you misjudge his feelings? he… couldn’t have misjudged yours, however. you thought you made it quite obvious you had a thing for the angel. he… should’ve said something. he just let you go on this impossible quest that you would never win and embarrass yourself? so you could be the silly human trying to win the heart of an angel? it hurt.

it hurt so much — the confusion, the embarrassment, how much emphasis you put on feeling like your affections were shared — that you had to completely separate yourself from him for a while. you couldn’t face any of the angels, in fact, knowing they would try to help on behalf of their brother and you just couldn’t deal with it. you completely rearranged your schedule, choosing to nap with Belphie one day, be late to classes with Mammon so you could sit in the back with him, eat lunch out with Beel, all so you could avoid the angels. your heart hurt whenever you saw Luke worriedly glancing your way, but the idea of him bringing up whatever happened with Raphael had you turning the other direction. Simeon and Raphael both stared at you whenever you had classes together, even if it meant them getting admonished by the teacher. you kept your gaze to your paper or the board, pretending not to see them in the corner of your eye. you were packed and out the door before they ever had time to approach you.

it was hard, having the piercing gaze of the angels always on you, trying to avoid them when they always seem to know where you were, but whenever you thought back to what happened in the library, your heart throbbed painfully and you continued to mute their texts, leave your phone in your room and go on whatever outing the demon brothers had planned for that day.

an entire week goes by like this.

surprisingly, it was Solomon who ended up approaching you. he had tactfully avoided the whole thing, never mentioning it to you and therefore still was allowed contact with you, but you still kept him on thin ice and were positive he knew that. you suppose that’s why he trapped you. Solomon asked you to help him study a new spell, avoiding any outing that seemed to suggest small talk, instead offering to go to the human world, where you knew it would be nearly impossible for the angels to follow, as they almost always needed permission from Michael to go on such a field trip. you agreed and when you got there, he immediately started working on the spell, to his defense. but… it was much too easy. you got it after 30 minutes. he shrugged and pushed it off, saying it seemed more difficult in theory. he offered you tea and again, you agreed, disarmed by the convincing lies.

and that’s when he dropped it on you. “I think you should talk to Raphael.” you stopped, cup half raised to your mouth, looking at him, seething.

“Is that why you invited me here?” you spat, slapping down the teacup a little harder than you should have. “Just to talk about him?”

Solomon considered you for a moment. Then shook his head and asked, “What happened? Apparently, according to him, everything was going just fine and then you started avoiding all of them.”

“Just fine? Yeah, he would say that.” you scoffed. “He has a girlfriend.”

Solomon blinked, “No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does!”

“I’ve never seen her.”

“Me neither!”

“Then how do you even know he has one?”

“These things come out, Solomon! You can’t just hide it forever! But you also just can’t ignore a girlfriend! She was on his arm — he took her to all these nice places! Everyone saw it!”

the sorcerer leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, hand on his chin, frowning as he thought. you grit your teething, cursing him, Raphael, those students, with every breath you took. sadly, you can’t do mental spells just yet, and it doesn’t work.

after a while, he shook his head. his eyes blinked open, but the frown stayed in place. “I… really don’t think so. It’s not my place to say but… you mean something to him. He’s completely insufferable right now, you know? He’s been that way since you’ve started ignoring him; snapping at all of us, hiding out in his room for almost the entire day. No one can get him out. It’s a train wreck, really.” He sits forward, leaning over the table to drive his words home, “Please. You don’t have to forgive him, you don’t even have to be nice. Just. Talk to him. If not for him, then for Luke. Raphael made him cry yesterday.”

and that’s where you sit currently. Back at the House of Lamentation, on your bed, glaring at your phone. You haven’t even opened the chat, dreading doing so, but you have to get this over with. you pick up the phone. you open the chat.

it is filled with over 200 messages of him pleading with you to talk him, asking what happened. 29 missed calls. you take a breath, asking Michael to have mercy on you and let Raphael be asleep, and begin to type,

‘we need to talk.’

the green online light is instant, like he’s been waiting by his phone.

‘Yes. Please. Where can we meet?’

‘no. here.’

‘Why do you not want to meet me? What happened?’

another text quickly follows that one.

‘I miss you so much.’

it’s something that makes tears hop to your eyes, his honeyed sweetness — his absolute honesty of his feelings when you know he hates it. it means so much and feels like a stab to the chest all at once. all the feelings you’ve been avoiding hit you over and over, the undertow of your sea of emotions pulling you out, anger and betrayal and pain washing over you again and again, and you can’t stop yourself from hastily typing out a response.

‘you had a girlfriend?? this whole time?? i thiught i meant something to you. i thought we were i dont know connecting!? i felt so close to you, i wanted to share everything you did, i paid attention to everything you said, every little thing i could learn about you. it hurts so much to have you do this to me. i wanted to be with you every single second i could, you mean so much to me. did it mean anything to you? was i just a plaything? a human you could toy with to amuse yourself??’

‘…’

your anxiety spikes when the dots indicating he’s writing pop up. they disappear. they return. they linger. it happens a couple times and you so badly want to throw your phone across the room, but you’re so invested in what he has to say, how he could excuse himself for this, when one line pops up.

‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’

you do end up throwing your phone.

you end up crying into your pillow for a while, completely ignoring the sound of your phone vibrating with message alerts. but when your ringtone goes off, you decide to pick yourself up and answer it.

Raphael calls your name from the speaker.

it crackles like he’s outside, wind blowing into the microphone, but you still can hear him. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Raph,” you say, exhausted from all your emotions. “People saw you. The- the girl! Hanging off of your arm!”

“Girl… ? Ah. You must mean that one.”

“That one? You have others?” you deadpan.

“No. No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. The blonde one, yes?”

“I- I don’t know! I didn’t ask for details! I was too busy being hurt by — ”

“The jewelry store? Yes, I can see how that might have looked.” He sighs, barely audible above the wind. “That’s why I was trying so hard to get rid of that witch. I knew something like this could happen.”

to say you’re shocked would be an understatement, his words make you second guess everything you’ve done in the past week. “The… witch?” you ask meekly.

“Yes. The drunk one. She kept grabbing my arm and following me while I was doing errands for Michael. I couldn’t get her off and Michael needed those things urgently. They couldn’t wait. I understand how looked from the outside. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

you’re on the verge of crying again. he didn’t… have a girlfriend? you’re so embarrassed, yet relieved, and you feel so stupid for even believing those damn rumors, but you were so hurt by such a believable story-

Raphael calls your name again, this time, despite it sounding identical, is tinged with worry. “You’re whimpering into the phone. Are you ok?”

“I- I’m ok. I just… feel so stupid right now,” you whispered, voice cracking as you force yourself through the sentence. “Raphael, I’m so sorry, I- I should’ve-” you can’t finish. you have to cover your mouth as the tears win, flowing over your hot cheeks, hoping he doesn’t make fun of you too much.

you expect some sort of sarcastic response, a comment that slices you when it points out how ridiculous and over the top you’ve made this scenario. but it doesn’t come. Raphael doesn’t do any of that. All he asks is, “Can I come over?”

“Yes,” you choke, breaking down even harder.

and then he’s there, you don’t know how, but his arms wrap around you, his cold jacket catching on your soft pajama top. he clutches you to his chest as you cry, taking the phone from you and setting it down on your desk so you don’t have to clutch it tightly and hurt your fingers.

“Raph… Raph.”

“I’m here. Come on, let’s get you to the bed.”

You twist your fingers in his jacket, a silent plea for him not to let go, but it never even looks like he plans to, awkwardly steering you to the bed as his legs teeter to the side of yours. he falls down with you in his arms, stroking your hair. when your cries taper off, he hands you tissues and wipes your face with his the top of his shirt.

you can feel how puffy your face is, as you sit up, straddling him. he lies there, his blue eyes taking you in as he lets his hands hesitantly rest on your hips. “Raph, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should’ve come to you about it. I made everyone miserable.”

He gives you one of his rare, warm smiles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just happy we’re ok now.” A nervous look crosses his face and he looks away from you. “Did… did you mean what you said earlier? You want to be with me?”

“I- yeah. I did- do! I do. Very much so.”

“Next time, I’m taking you on errands with me.”

#obey me #🍩 of obey me #obey me nb #om nb #obey me nightbringer #raphael x reader #raphael x mc #raphael x you #obey me swd #THIS GOT TOO LONG AND I HAD TO SPLIT IT #will i edit this? mmmmmmaybe

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