#emmrich x rook fic

[starlsen]

A Scar's Caress

Fem!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin ✶ Lots of fluff followed by smutty goodness ✶ NSFW ✶ 6.1k words

Read on AO3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It had been quite some time since the whole team had been able to gather at the dining table to enjoy a good meal together. Tonight, Lucanis had insisted that everyone make themselves available, because it had been far too long since any of them had taken a real break – especially Rook. She’d be the last one to admit she needed to take it slow, but was never one to turn down a plate of Lucanis’ signature paella, particularly when washed down with a glass of Antivan Red.

“That was amazing, Lucanis.” Harding sighed as she sat back in her chair, hands on her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“I told you to save room for dessert,” Lucanis said indignantly, hands on his hips. “I baked a pie.”

“Oh,” Her cheeks flushed. “Right. I knew that.” Lucanis raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. “I’m not that stuffed.”

Rook’s mouth turned up with amusement as she cleared away the last of the plates and grabbed another bottle of wine, setting about topping up everyone’s drinks. Conversation had flowed easily throughout dinner as she and her companions exchanged stories, cracked jokes and enjoyed just… being. She felt lighter than she had in a while, finally able to set everything aside and pretend for just a couple of hours that nothing outside of these walls existed. That the weight of the world didn’t rest on the shoulders of everyone in this room.

“Thank you, darling.” Emmrich said as she poured more wine into his goblet, offering her a dazzling smile as she did so. She returned the gesture, affectionately brushing her knuckle under his chin before turning her attention to Taash and Davrin who, by all accounts, were now engaging in a heated debate about scars.

“That's nothing,” Taash snorted. “It's kinda precious, actually.”

“Precious?” Davrin repeated incredulously. “You think a scar I got from taking down a hurlock is precious?” Taash shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?” Davrin baulked at dragon hunter, before turning to Rook for support as she topped up his wine.

“Are you hearing this?”

Rook snorted. “Yes.” Davrin waited, brows raised.

“And?” He pressed when Rook didn't elaborate, and she pressed her lips together in an effort to suppress her amusement, shrugging casually.

“I'm with Taash on this one.” Taash smirked, folding their arms across their chest, and sat back in their seat.

“Told ya.” They said, and Davrin sighed heavily.

“Why are we talking about Davrin’s adorable scar, anyway?” Rook asked, setting the bottle down and returning to her seat beside Emmrich. The Grey Warden rolled his eyes.

“It’s the story that counts.” Taash said, turning back to Davrin. “Yes, it’s very cool that you took down a hurlock with a bunch of cracked ribs, or whatever. But the scar itself is…” They paused.

“Kind of pretty?” Rook offered, much to Davrin’s chagrin, and Taash snorted.

“Alright,” He said flatly, turning pointedly towards Rook. “I think it's time we ask our fearless leader.” Her friends snickered at the nickname they'd started throwing around within the last couple of weeks, to which Rook rolled her eyes as she brought her goblet to her lips. “I bet you’ve got some adorable stories of your own.” She arched her brow as she sipped her wine, and considered him for a moment.

“I think we should hear from Emmrich next,” She said, offering the man at her side a sweet smile, to which he chuckled and sat back in his chair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” He clasped his hands together in that way that made Rook’s heart soar. “I’m quite sure my scars don’t come with stories to rival the excitement of any of yours.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Professor.” Bellara said earnestly, her eyes shining. “All the things you’ve done in your career? I bet you have some amazing stories to share.”

“Well,” He mused. “There was an unfortunate mishap when I was a much younger, considerably less experienced necromancer.” He sighed, a note of nostalgia in his eyes. “You see, as members of the Mourn Watch, it is commonplace to raise skeletons in order to carry out work within the Grand Necropolis. And, being hungry for ambition and driven by my determination to prove my worth,” He balled his fists in front of himself to emphasise his words. “I attempted to raise a skeleton before I was ready.” Rook’s brows rose in surprise, though her lips curled into a smile.

“So what happened?” She asked, and he turned his gaze to her, smiling bashfully.

“Its coordination was frightfully misaligned.” He said, and Rook’s eyes widened as Emmrich placed a finger on his left pectoral, dragging a diagonal line across to his sternum. “Thankfully, I was able to get out of the way,” He paused and chuckled. “Well, mostly.”

“That’s a great story!” Bellara exclaimed. “I told you!”

“That’s so messed up.” Taash grumbled.

“Not bad.” Neve said, and Emmrich held his hands up.

“That’s it from me, I’m afraid.” Rook watched as he sat back in his chair and lifted his goblet to his lips, taking a sip of wine. His eyes met her own and her heart fluttered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“That was pretty good,” Davrin said, pulling Rook’s attention away from Emmrich. “So I’m willing to bet, as a fellow necromancer, you have something good, too.” She shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back in her chair.

“I don’t know, almost getting axed by a skeleton sounds pretty hard to beat.” Emmrich tutted from her side and she flashed him a grin.

“Come on, Rook.” Lucanis said from across the table.

“Alright, alright,” She said, all eyes on her, and sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to know about her scars, necessarily; she supposed, more than anything, her hesitancy came from never having actually told another living soul about them. She’d never told anyone how she got them. Never let anyone see them.

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.” Harding said, and Rook blinked, looking over to find her friend smiling, and tried not to think about the scar on her forehead – or how and why she got it, all those months ago.

“It’s okay,” Rook said and cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Much like my esteemed colleague here,” She gestured to Emmrich. “I also attempted magic far above my station when I was way too young and way too hot-headed to realise how stupid it was.” Emmrich scoffed, and their friends laughed. “No offence.” She added, touching his arm, to which he rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“Alright.” Taash paused. “So… a spell went wrong, or what?”

“Something like that.”

“Where is it?” Davrin asked. “The scar, I mean.”

“Right here,” Rook said, pointing to her sternum. “All the way down to around… here.” She gestured down to below her knee. The table fell quiet, then, and she could feel Emmrich’s eyes burning into her. Taash let out a low whistle.

“Mierda,” Lucanis said quietly, and Rook shifted in her seat.

“Damn,” Davrin laughed, turning to Taash. “Now I see why you think mine are adorable.” Rook grinned as the others joined in his mirth.

“I stand by what I said.” Taash drawled, and laughter filled the dining table once more. “Who’s next?”

She was thankful for the diversion away from herself and knocked back the rest of her wine, all too aware of the man at her side, that his eyes were still fixed on her. She set down her cup and turned her attention to him to find him watching her thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed.

“What?” She asked, and he lowered his voice.

“I had no idea.” He said, glancing down at her body before bringing his gaze back to her own. “Darling, what happened?” She smiled, leaning in until her lips brushed the shell of his ear.

“Come to my room later and I’ll tell you,” She purred. “Maybe I’ll even show you.” She sat back in her chair and his brows shot up, eyes slightly wide, before clearing his throat and reaching for his wine once more. She flashed him a wicked grin and he chuckled, relaxing somewhat and shaking his head.

The truth was that while she’d dodged having to explain the details of the incident to her companions, she’d realised relatively quickly after meeting him that Emmrich was likely to be the only person she could share it with. He understood her in a way that nobody else could, and often seemed to know her better than she knew herself. And now, many months later, he was so much more than just a fellow necromancer, companion or friend. What they shared was… simply put, utterly magical, and they’d formed a bond that she knew could survive anything.

Not only that, but it had become increasingly difficult to ignore the way he made her feel, to ignore the all consuming desire that overwhelmed her senses whenever he was near – which was, incidentally, almost every single day. The alluring, dazzling and devastatingly charming gentleman had assured her they’d take things slow, to allow their relationship to progress organically; the only problem was that she wanted to take things further. Much, much further, and was confident that Emmrich was just as ready as she was.

There had been a handful of occasions in recent weeks in which she’d almost gone through with it, but as soon as it came to taking off her clothes, she’d freeze. She’d spent so much of her life hiding her scars that it felt alien to do otherwise. It had been almost a week since the last time she’d allowed herself to get carried away in the heat of the moment, driven by lust to throw caution to the wind; she’d been in his quarters and had become painfully aroused just listening to him read a passage from a book. She’d climbed into his lap, her kisses bruising and feverish, and he’d held her close and kissed her back with equal fervour, his broad hands roaming her body. Yes, Emmrich was definitely just as ready as she was.

And her scars were the only thing holding her back.

She’d remained wholly distracted for the rest of the evening, unable to think about anything other than getting Emmrich behind closed doors. And so, by the time they’d all decided to call it a night, she was all too happy to loop her arm through his and lead him away from the dining hall. She listened as he gushed over Lucanis’ skills in the kitchen, his appreciation for a delightful meal, and how exhilarating it was to share a story from his youth. As they reached the threshold of Emmrich’s quarters, he paused and turned to face her, a softness in his eyes as he took her hands in his own.

“Rook,” He said gently, and she hummed. “You know there is absolutely no pressure for our relationship to move forward, don’t you?” He ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “None whatsoever.” Gods, her heart ached with the affection she felt for him. She offered him a small smile and stepped into him, leaning up on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his. The kiss lingered for a few moments before she sank onto the balls of her feet and took a few steps backwards, towards her own quarters, letting go of his hands as she did so.

“Are you coming?” Is all she said, and after a moment, the corner of his lips turned up as he gestured for her to lead the way and followed in her stead. She tried to shake her nerves as she led him to her room, reminding herself how badly she wants, needs, this. She headed for the small meditation table before the expansive fish tank that filled the far wall, watching the candle flames flicker as Emmrich closed the doors behind them.

She listened to the steady, even stride of his approaching footsteps, and hovered a hand over the candles, the heat from the flames licking her fingertips. He was at her side, then, and she took another moment to admire the way the candles shone a fiery glow over her palm, the fish tank casting an icy blue hue across the back of her hand.

“I've never shared myself with anyone, not entirely.” She said into the peaceful calm of her room. “I've never known anyone that made me want to, y'know?” She pulled her hand away from the flames, turning to face where Emmrich stood, shoulders squared and hands clasped in front of himself, and nodded.

He was absolutely beautiful. The light of the fish tank cast his side in glorious aqua blue, his eyes appearing more green than hazel, contrasting with the warm shadows on his other side, candles all around them; and while dazzling was usually her go-to word to describe Emmrich, right now, it felt as though there were no words that would do him justice. His beauty, his kindness, his everything.

“But then I met you.” She said, and his eyes were so kind and earnest and caused an ache deep in her heart. “And those nights in the memorial gardens, you shared so much of yourself with me. Made me realise we were more alike than I ever realised.” His eyes dropped to the floor for just a moment, almost bashfully, the smallest smile tugging on his lips when he brought his gaze back to her own.

“You introduced me to your parents,” She continued. “You have no idea what that meant to me, Emmrich.” His eyes softened, chest rising as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. “You make me want to share everything with you.” He closed the space between them.

“If you are ready,” He said, tucking her long, lavender hair behind her pointed ears. “Then it would be an honour, my darling.” He brushed his knuckles along her jaw, and her throat tightened, her heart beating a little faster again. She leaned into his touch, lifting a hand to his chest, to the scar she now knew lay underneath. She glanced down at herself, then raised her chin to meet his gaze once more.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” She hoped the playful tone in her words would take the edge off the nerves pooling in her gut, and Emmrich let out a breathy chuckle. He said nothing, at first; just smiled down at her, his eyes warm and safe and kind, always so kind. She raised her eyebrows just slightly, and then his lips were on her forehead in a gentle kiss.

“Very well.” He took a short step back from her as he unclipped the gold chain across his waistcoat, and Rook watched his fingers intently as they worked their way down, one button after the other. Watched as they pulled the waistcoat over his shoulders and set it down neatly on the chaise lounge. Watched as they unfastened his belt, the sound of leather sliding along soft calluses as it unwound from his hips. Watched as they slipped into luxurious red, unravelling the silken sash around his midriff. His usual gold cuff and leather glove were absent from his ensemble today, and she marvelled at how beautiful his hands really were; soft and warm and purposeful, bedecked in the finest jewellery.

She could watch those hands at work for an eternity.

As he unclasped the dainty skull pinning his collar together, she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, untucking it from his trousers, and his lips turned up slightly. Heat rose in her cheeks as he began unfastening the buttons of his shirt, slowly exposing his neck, clavicle, and sternum. She worked from the bottom until their fingers met, knuckles brushing, and she inhaled deeply through her nose as he slipped the shirt over his shoulders, revealing his broad chest, the gold bangles on his forearm chiming as he removed his shirt completely and dropped it on top of his other clothes.

Emmrich had always cut a very fine figure; his tailored clothes made no secret of his slender frame, but Rook hadn’t expected his shoulders, his chest, to be quite so broad. She followed the lines of his frame as it dipped in at his waist, his soft and slightly toned abdomen, and finally observed the scar running from his left pectoral to his sternum.

She brought her hands to his chest, tracing the line of the scar with her fingertips, and goosebumps flooded his skin under her featherlight touch. She hesitated for just a moment when he tensed, before he visibly relaxed and let out a breath. She could feel the heat crawling from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears as she touched him, her pulse racing, while he remained wholly still, hands once again clasped in his usual composure.

He was beautiful.

“Emmrich,” His name was barely above a whisper, and she finally looked up to meet his gaze, finding him watching her, a vulnerability in his eyes and something akin to uncertainty. She returned her attention to his chest and leaned in to press a soft, chaste kiss to his scar.

“I know that I am not exactly,” He paused, and she looked up at him. “Well, you know.” She tilted her head to the side and he huffed, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as he averted his gaze. “I'm no Davrin or Lucanis, let's say.”

Her brows came together, then, and she reached for him, taking his cheek in her hand and gently bringing his gaze back to her own.

“Emmrich,” She said, taking one of his hands and lifting it to her chest. “Do you feel that?” He glanced down to where she was firmly holding his palm over her racing heart, his lips parting ever so slightly, and hazel met violet once more. She smiled.

“That's what you do to me.” She said, and he chuckled bashfully. Her smile widened to a toothy grin, and added, “Among other things.” Emmrich laughed heartily, then, the pink in his cheeks turning a little darker, and she giggled, feeling the familiar ache begin to stir between her legs.

“You are beautiful.” She said as their mirth eased, and his throat bobbed as she took his other hand to her chest, guiding his fingers to the buttons on her shirt. “I want you to see me, too.” She tugged the bottom of her shirt from where it had been tucked lazily into the waistband of her pants, before letting her arms return to her side.

“Are you sure, darling?” He asked, and she nodded, taking a breath to steady her racing heart. He held her gaze for a moment longer before leaning down to brush his lips over her temple, and began unfastening the buttons. She closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss, the flush in her cheeks deepening, and gazed up into gorgeous hazel when he pulled back.

Though her racing heart wasn't because of her desires for the man before her alone, or the anticipation of what she knew was going to happen tonight – no, her heart was racing because she was finally letting someone in. Because she finally felt safe enough, finally had the desire to be truly intimate with someone, finally wanted to show someone the reminder of just how close she had come to dying; a fact that had utterly terrified her and shamed her as a member of the Mourn Watch.

But after Emmrich had confided in her about his own fears, she’d realised she’d found a true companion in him. And now, bearing themselves to one another, she knew she’d found her twin flame, her soul’s calling, and at long last was ready. Truly ready.

His fingers had reached the bottom of her shirt and he paused. She nodded, and he slowly pushed her shirt over her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor, and his eyes dropped to her naked torso. Her heart was pounding by now, and Emmrich's lips parted, his eyes darting across the expanse of her scars. Her breaths came a little shorter, a little faster, and she inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out slowly, willing her heart to slow down, willing for him to say something.

He lifted his hands, and she held her breath as he gently brushed her hair back over her shoulders, letting the long, lavender locks cascade down her back, and stepped back slightly.

“It was lightning magic,” She said, and Emmrich glanced at her before returning his gaze to her abdomen. “I mean-” She snorted nervously and gestured to them. “Obviously.” He reached for her, trailing his fingers over the lines branching across her body, disappearing underneath her pants.

The magic had entered her body just below her hip, the lightning forking up and down as it surged and left scorched skin in its wake. Jagged lines spread up and around her ribs, across her abdomen to her sternum and breasts; it branched down her thigh, coiling itself around her leg to her shin. The scars remained a deep, dusky pink, though they had healed many years ago.

“Rook,” He said quietly, his brow pinched together. She took a breath.

“They run almost the entire length of my body,” She said, and with trembling fingers, reached for the button on her pants. He placed his hands over her own, halting her, and swallowed hard when he knelt before her; he unfastened the button, pulled down the zip, and carefully tugged them down her thighs. She held onto his shoulders as she lifted one leg at a time so he could remove her pants completely, leaving her clad only in her undergarments.

He remained on his knees, his eyes roaming her body as he asked, “What happened?”

“The magic was beyond my abilities at the time,” She said. “I was tired of being told I wasn’t ready, that I couldn’t do it. I was so sure they were wrong, that I could prove them wrong, so…” She sighed. “I performed the spell in my quarters and I couldn’t contain it. I struck myself by accident.” She paused as her voice wavered. “And, uh,” She cleared her throat, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “It almost killed me.”

Emmrich's eyes shot up, then, and she could feel his gaze burning into her as she focused on the candles across the room, willing herself to calm, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I was terrified.” She admitted. “And I couldn’t tell anyone because what good is a necromancer whose greatest fear is dying?” Emmrich sighed, and she looked down at him, his brows drawn and such sadness in his eyes. She brushed her knuckles along his cheek. “But then… I met you.”

“Darling,” He said gently, so agonisingly gently, as he leaned into her touch. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn't,” She said. “Nobody does. I've never…” She trailed off, and he tilted his head to the side.

“You've never told anyone?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” She said, and his frown deepened slightly, before lowering his gaze once more to her scars. Then, he leaned in, and she inhaled sharply when he pressed a kiss to her abdomen.

“They are beautiful, Rook.” He said firmly, and placed another kiss on her hip. “You are beautiful.”

Her cheeks were blazing now, and she chuckled, threading her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, I don't know about that.” She said, and he looked up at her, his expression entirely too serious, and rose to his feet once more. She almost shrank back from the intensity of his gaze, and he took her face in his hands, cradling her jaw, his touch so tender she could have cried.

“I see you.” He said, and she swallowed hard as her throat tightened, tears threatening to fill her glistening eyes. “You are the most beautiful young woman I have ever laid my eyes upon,” He spoke so gently, so earnestly, and she sighed as she leaned into his touch.

“And,” He added, leaning in to brush his lips over hers. “There are none in this world more fortunate than I.”

She had never truly grasped what it could mean to be swept off her feet, but when his mouth met hers in a kiss so dizzying that it stole her breath and left her knees unsteady beneath her, she wondered if this was what it felt like. Her eyes slipped shut as she melted into him, chest-to-chest, their hearts beating wildly as one, hands cradling each other’s faces as though they couldn’t be close enough.

Lips fused in a slow, tender kiss, they moved back towards the chaise lounge. Rook reached blindly for the frame as Emmrich set a knee on the seat, sliding a hand down to her waist and around the small of her back as she found purchase at last and laid back, his body warm as he settled between her legs and leaned over her.

He trailed his lips along her jaw and down the length of her neck, his kisses gentle and unhurried and Gods, she was breathless as he reached her collarbone. The warmth of his breath left her skin tingling as his lips caressed her breast, then her sternum, and her heart all but soared out of her chest upon realising that he was slowly, and very deliberately, tracing the branches of her scars.

She couldn’t look away. Her chest rose and fell, watching as he took his time, eyes roaming across her skin, as though he was taking such care of where to place his lips next, worshipping her body with his mouth. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, sighing softly through parted lips as he kissed her stomach, then paused as he glanced down at her undergarments. His gaze met her own in silent question, his eyes softening when her answer came in the form of a single nod, and sat back on his knees as she lifted her hips to allow him to remove her underwear.

She blushed furiously when the corner of his mouth tugged into a deeply alluring smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach, then her hip, before shifting further back on the seat and nuzzling the inside of her thigh with his nose, his lips barely brushing her skin, his eyes fixed on her own. By the Gods, the darkness in his lustful gaze sent a thrill running straight through her. He tucked his shoulders under her thighs, running his hands along her hips, and she gasped when he dipped between her legs and ran the flat of his tongue over her slit.

It was as though every nerve ending in her body was centred entirely within her sex, a feeling she could have only ever dreamed of; Emmrich worked his lips and tongue like a man starved, leaving her thighs trembling, chest tightening, toes curling. Every cell in her body was on fire, arousal pulsing through her, and she was breathless as she tipped her head back, her senses overwhelmed because his tongue, Gods, his tongue; warm and wet, gliding through her soaking folds, over and over, yes, yes-

“Emmrich,” She moaned, arching her back, and he slid a jewelled hand from her hip to her abdomen, his palm flat against her skin. She wasn’t going to last, not like this, the familiar feeling already beginning to swell deep within her core. She clutched his hand tightly, writhing against him, and cried out when he planted his mouth over her clit and began gently sucking, expertly rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He groaned into her sex, the sound vibrating through her as he gripped her fingers that were closed over his own. She ached for release, was ready to beg for it, when the pressure building between her legs erupted with a final sweep of his tongue and she gasped sharply, her mouth falling open, her entire body tensing and trembling as her orgasm sent lightning surging from her core.

He slowed his tongue to gentle rolls as she rode out her high, his eyes fixed on her writhing body, marvelling at the way she moved and how utterly breathtaking she truly was - especially like this. Her moans gave way to breathy whimpers as her grip on his hand slackened, and with a satisfied chuckle, he turned to press his lips to the inside of her thigh and shifted to lean his forearms either side of her hips. He watched her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath and, admittedly feeling a touch smug, couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his mouth at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked. It was all she could do to nod, because she was infinitely better than alright; she’d never been made to feel the way he made her feel, had never experienced pleasure quite like that before, and certainly never dreamed Emmrich could do that with his mouth. She hummed when she felt his lips on her hip, trailing kisses along the forked branches of her scars across her abdomen and breasts.

“Amazing,” She sighed, and he huffed a laugh before his lips found her neck once more as he settled between her legs. Feeling his hardness pressing against her, she let out a breath and guided his face back to hers, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, running her hands down his chest and already feeling so dizzy with the way he was kissing her, his lips moving so easily, so expertly, with her own. Her fingers found the waistband of his trousers, and she pulled back from the kiss just slightly as she tugged at them.

“Take these off.” She whispered against his lips, and he nuzzled her nose with his own before nodding, brushing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth and making quick work of kicking off his boots and removing the last of his clothing. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as their eyes met and he leaned over her once more, hooking an arm underneath her shoulder to slide his fingers along her neck, threading them in her hair, gripping her thigh around his waist with the other.

She cradled his jaw in her hands and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks, her heart racing and his eyes searched her own, seeking permission. She answered with a buck of her hips and he laughed breathlessly, the sound curling around her heart and spreading warmth through her chest. He turned into her hand to press a kiss to her palm, returning his gaze to hers for a moment before leaning his forehead against hers as he slowly pushed himself into her slick heat. She gasped, body tensing, her brows coming together as heat flooded to her cheeks because Gods, he felt amazing inside her.

His breath was hot on her lips as he waited, stroking her thigh with his thumb, hardly able to believe he was tangled up with her; Rook, the most courageous and dangerously breathtaking woman he’d ever known – and she wanted him. He pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose, then her lips, and she relaxed, offering him a smile that could shatter the world as she nodded for him to keep going. Affection blossomed in his chest at the gesture, and he closed the space between them to press his lips to hers as he pulled his hips back and sank into her again, a low moan rumbling in the back of his throat.

And that sound drove her wild. She whimpered, parting her lips to kiss him again, and when his tongue swept in to caress her own, she moaned and wound her arms around his neck. He began rolling his hips into hers, his movements masterful, as though he'd spent an eternity making love to her. It felt so right. Their bodies fit together and moved perfectly, as one - and finally, for the first time in her life, Rook felt whole. Complete.

She broke the kiss to look into his eyes, her brow pinched and mouth open as she gasped with every delectable roll of his hips into hers. He'd never looked more beautiful than he did in that moment; pieces of his usually pristine hair hung over his forehead, his eyes dark with lust, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. A fire ignited within her, unfathomably powerful and burning exceptionally bright; she'd never felt this feeling before, but greeted it like a long lost piece of herself as she welcomed it - and Emmrich - into her heart.

“I love you,” She whispered, and something changed in his eyes, a recognition, an understanding, and he smiled; wide and bright and absolutely breathtaking.

He chuckled breathlessly and nuzzled her nose with his own as he said, “And I love you, my darling.”

She returned his smile, a joyous giggle escaping her lips, and gasped sharply when he thrust his hips into hers, harder now, and her eyes slipped shut as she tipped her head back and moaned. Emmrich buried his face in the crook of her neck, his moans low and deep, and she was sure it was the most beautiful and holy sound she'd ever heard. She wound her arms around his waist and up his back, her fingers digging into the skin below his shoulder blades, clinging desperately as a familiar feeling began coiling around her core, twisting and tightening and building and building, an intense pressure mounting, her entire body tensing and trembling.

“Emmrich,” She whimpered, and he removed his hand from where it had been buried in her hair to clutch the arm of the chaise lounge, gripping her thigh tightly with the other, practically growling into her neck as he drove his hips into her, harder, faster. She tightened around him, her mouth falling open and arched her back, the air forced from her lungs as her orgasm slammed into her with the staggering force of a hurricane. She gasped sharply into his shoulder, crying out and making a sound she was sure she'd never made before, and with that, Emmrich moaned loudly, his movements stuttering, thrusting hard and haphazardly as he came.

The pleasure was utterly blinding, her heart thundering and chest heaving, leaving her on the verge of feeling delirious. She pulled back to nudge his temple with her nose, words failing her, and he slowly lifted his face from her neck, eyes dazed and half-lidded. He glanced at her mouth before leaning down to kiss her, their breaths heavy as their lips parted and came together again, slowly and tenderly, as his hips slowed altogether.

She brought a hand from his back to cradle his cheek, and he pulled back just enough to find her gaze as she brushed her thumb over his top lip and smiled. He quickly returned the gesture, and she couldn’t help the giggle that followed, feeling utterly giddy for arguably the first time in her life. He chuckled, capturing her lips in a single, lingering kiss before pulling his hips back and all but collapsing on her chest.

She brushed his hair back as he closed his eyes, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down the length of her arm with a contented hum. She wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, tangled up in each other until their breaths became slow and even, their hearts beating as one; but after a short while, she looked down at him and smiled as she continued to smooth back his hair.

“The dishevelled look rather suits you, y'know.” She said after a few moments, and he snorted.

“Never.” He said with a sigh. “A gentleman is anything but.” Rook grinned.

“I had no idea gentlemen could fuck like that.” She quipped, and Emmrich barked a laugh, shifting to look up at her as he leaned his forearms either side of her hips.

“Darling, I can do much more than that.” He said, his voice dangerously low. She bit her lip, her smile bright and wicked.

“Oh?” He hummed. “Tell me more.” She said, and his tongue darted over his bottom lip before he raised a brow.

“I'd rather show you, my dear.” She laughed, patting his shoulder and closed her eyes, lying her head back.

“Give me a few minutes and I'll be good to go.” Her smile remained as he chuckled, and she felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to the scars between her breasts.

“I may need slightly longer to recover.” He mused. “But I will gladly do this again,” He kissed further down her abdomen. “And again,” Another kiss. “And again.” She hummed happily.

“Sounds good to me.”

[ellie-writes-games]

Spite, Love, and Limes

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 10 of Burn After Reading banter series next ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

I know. I know. I know I know I know. The fandom REALLY likes the idea of Spite being...uh, active, in Rookanis. Here's the rub: the pure, delicious, indulgent fan-made stuff is out there and it is KILLER.

But that's kind of not my goal. The fun and the challenge of writing this kind of content, for me anyway, is playing within the limits of what the game gave us. Making it as close to some of the wonderful dynamics that are already there with the cast of Veilguard, and just playing. I'm also a game writer. Not for Bioware, no, but I do this kind of stuff for a living. I have mad respect for the folks who have shaped this world and the characters we all know and love. This is one of those weird personal lines where I don't want to step too far out of the canon with a set of characters that you can spend literally over a hundred hours with in a single playthrough. I think that gives us a pretty clear idea of what they were going for, whether or not it's your personal headcanon. Some wickedly talented folks poured a lot of time into fleshing out this found family and their delightful little interpersonal dynamics, and I want to try and honor that. I apologize to the Church of Spite and it's many devoted followers. I wish you all the spiciest of fics. Just know that's not where this is going. ✌😘

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.

[bbluxart]

"Rook, a word?"

I love the commentary between party members when you romance emmrich. They're like "oh so you and Rook, huh?" And Emmrich always responds with, "oh you noticed?" When you KNOW these besotted fools are doing shit like this CONSTANTLY.

[emmg]

Here’s a little list for my fellow Emmrook degenerates who, like me, are forever screaming into the void for more, more, more fanfic. I got you.

For steamy, filthy, hot-as-sin sex: You go straight to @eavangeek. No detours. This person has me clenching my thighs and questioning my morals on a daily basis. Currently devouring Chalon’s Tea and literally fanning myself like some Victorian widow about to faint.

For angst with a side of creepy obsession: That’s @jainydoe. I’m pretty sure she’s seconds away from filing a restraining order against me because I will not—CANNOT—shut the fuck up about how much I love her writing. It’s deliciously dark, and I am unwell.

For hot, emotional porn (with so many feelings it physically hurts): You’re looking for @heylittleriotact. I stalk her AO3 like a goddamn feral raccoon digging through garbage, and every time I read her Emmrich, I swoon so hard I see stars.

You’re welcome. Happy reading, fellow Emmrook trash. Let’s rot together.

[reeseykins]

Thoughts on Emmrich while Rook is trapped in the Fade

Kind of obsessed with thinking about Emmrich's deteriorating mental state while Rook was trapped in the Fade.

The first few days he's ultra focused on finding a way to get Rook back. He's a Fade expert -- this sort of problem was made for him to solve. He tells himself he WILL find a solution, because that's why he's here, right? He keeps telling himself that over and over, willing himself to solve this impossible problem.

He stays awake for 48 hours straight. Bellara and Neve are with him at first, each pouring over an arcane text he's brought with him from Nevarra, searching for the very few-and-far-between references of anyone who has physically walked in the Fade. Sometime after the sun rises, he realizes he's alone. He doesn't remember when the others left, presumably to rest.

Lucanis brings coffee. He squeezes the elder mage's shoulder and assures him -- "We'll get her back." Emmrich doesn't look up from the page. He knows that if the Crow could see his eyes, he'd see all the fear and guilt he's trying so desperately to pretend isn't slowly consuming him from within.

By day three he's coming undone. He hasn't shaved, hasn't bathed, has barely moved from his seat amongst an ever-growing stack of books, each carefully flagged or left open wherever he's found even a hint of a clue that could bring her back to him. He dozes off, face down on an open tome. Bellara sneaks in and drapes a blanket over his shoulders, careful not to wake him.

He loses his focus on the seventh day. It's been a week - an entire week - since she's been gone. He'll never see her again. He spent their last night together arguing with her. He lays down on his bed and presses the palm of his hand to the mattress where Rook had once curled beside him. It's cold; there is no scrap of her warmth left.

By day ten he's manic. His mind still replays the argument over and over and over, but the memory is quieter now, interspersed with a hundred other, brighter moments. The curve of her lips as she smiled just for him, the fall of a lock of hair across her face that he gently pushed behind her ear, the sweet sound of her sudden inhalation of breath as they made love. These memories should be a comfort, but instead they torment him with the knowledge of what he's lost. He paces back and forth along the walkway at the top of the spiral staircase in his room, praying that a solution will materialize out of the haze clouding his mind. This cannot be the end.

Darkness takes hold. He's losing himself, losing the very essence of what makes him who he is. There are whispers at the edge of his consciousness, and he knows instinctually that he's become a target of some demon or another - desire, or perhaps despair. He'll rip open the Fade, he thinks to himself. To hell with the Dread Wolf, he'll bring down the Veil if only to get her back. He'll drown the world in demons, in blood, lay waste to everything. His chest heaves, he's frantic now, running his hands through his hair and panting. There is no air in the room, in his lungs. But then he feels a familiar presence behind him. Manfred is there with tea. The madness fades, he regains himself and musters the will to banish those evil fantasies from his mind.

What good would it do to get Rook back if he destroys himself, possibly everyone and everything, in the process? He washes up, shaves for the first time in days, changes his clothes, and goes to find the rest of the team. He cannot be alone anymore with his thoughts.

And then, she is back. She doesn't see how dangerously close he came to succumbing to despair. She doesn't see him unkempt or disheveled. But she knows. He wraps his arms around her in bed that night, hooks his foot over her ankle, drawing her in tight like a choking vine, and she knows.

[preciouslittlewatcher]

Emmrich comes back to The Lighthouse after that camping trip with Harding. He's a bit disheveled and has some stubble. He flops his bags by the entrance of his study to find Rook reading a tome by the fireplace, sipping coffee.

E: Oh darling, you're a welcome sight!

R: Emmrich! How was the trip?

Rook closes the book and gets up to give him a kiss. They notice that his hair is a bit messy and his shirt is unbuttoned more than usual.

R: Ooh, looking a bit rugged are we?

Rook reaches out to cradle his face and feel the stubble on his cheeks. Emmrich holds their hand and kisses their palm.

E: Ugh, I barely had time for proper self care. Harding was bringing me this way and that. There was far too much to see. I took plenty of notes, if you want to take a look. As for me, I need a long bath. I probably smell rancid.

R: Hm, you smell like dirt and trees. And what's this about a bath? Without me?

E: Oh my dear, I never said that. I haven't been able to feel your touch for far too long.

R: Oh I know, two days. It was torture wasn't it? *giggles*

E: Pure agony.

[heylittleriotact]

Oh no but like what if my Rook, having been abandoned in a catacomb and found by undead and raised in the necropolis as part of the Mourn Watch and then essentially indefinitely exiled from the only place she’s ever known and called home is deeply traumatized and betrayed by this and is really struggling with herself and her place in the world and really just feels like she doesn’t belong anywhere or deserve a family or love or acceptance but then EMMRICH?

[hydrangeapartridge]

Rook stumbles upon Emmrich shaving

‌Rook unceremonisouly opened the flaps to the necromancer's tent.

"Emmrich we're leaving so-"

She stopped mid sentence, surprised to find her most recently recruited companion standing before a foldable table full of cosmetic products, holding a mirror with one hand and his cheeks lathered with shaving cream.

Emmrich turned to her, holding up his shaving brush.

"Ah Rook, apologies. It seems I am getting a bit tardy"

Rook froze. Oddly she felt like she just interrupted an intimate moment. Emmrich was dressed in his usual flanel pants and a cream undershirt. His crisp fancy white shirt and his green vest were neatly folded on a wooden stool. She never saw him in such a state of undress and given how many layers he usually wore, she almost felt as if she was intruding on him completely naked.

"I usually manage to be done before you wake. It seems I miscalculated today. I'll be quick, I promise" Emmrich told her before getting back to his previous occupation.

It never occurred to her that he shaved every day. Which was really silly of her obviously; he didn’t magically end up looking dashing and fresh when running around in the wilderness. Despite how he seemed to make everything look simple, it took work, even for him. His camp habits clashed with those of companions like Harding and Taash but Lucanis and Neve liked a bit more comfort in camp.

Rivain’s sun was up early and blazing hot, which explained why Rook didn’t sleep in today. But oh was she grateful it allowed her to see Emmrich grooming.

Despite her urge to stay focused on Emmrich, Rook’s attention was suddenly drawn to a moving form to her side. She soon spotted Manfred running towards Emmrich with a razor, like a disaster waiting to happen.

"Manfred shaves you?" She asked alarmingly.

"Of course not. Manfred is my assistant not my manservant" Emmrich replied, more amused than offended. He wipped his hands clean on a towel and took the razor from Manfred with a small "thank you" and an approving nod of his head.

"Right. I guess I wouldn't let him near my throat with those sharp blades either..." Rook commented, but her humour didn't seem to perturb Emmrich.

"Oh but you'd be surprised with how dexterous he is ! And everyday he makes progress. He's capable of serving tea without spilling a drop now!" Emmrich praised, visibly proud of his spirit protégé.

The necromancer turned to the mirror, which Manfred now held, and started angling the blade towards his cheek the second he stopped talking. Rook watched mesmerized as he shaved a first stripe and elegantly rinced the blade before he continued. Talking about being dexterous… The precisison of his movements, the way his long and elegant fingers, yet to be adorned with his numerous rings, handled the dangerous object near his adam apple, made something stirr inside her. Something warm and improper.

She watched the lean muscles of his arms flex, seeing them free of a shirt for the first time. Her eyes traveled down irresistibly, and below the upper part of his undershirt, she could spot the birth of a small patch of dark chest hair.

"Did you need something else Rook?" Emmrich's voice startled her. His tone was lower than she ever heard it and it made her stomach flip. She looked up to find his brown gaze on her, and it felt oddly intense in the dim light of the tent.

"No. We'll leave when you're done" She hastily declared, internally cursing herself for stuttering.

Emmrich smiled kindly, but there was a mysterious glint in his usually soft eyes. "I won't be long, I promise. I've got practice"

The way he said those last words shouldn't make her feel how she felt.

Once out of the tent, Rook flopped beside the dying campfire with an annoyed groan, burrying her face in her hands in embarassement. Shit. She knew him for a few days and already she was crushing on Professor Volkarin so hard it made her act stupid.

She told herself she would get a grip, but later that day, when she walked alongside him, enamored with the way he talked about studying the flora of Rivain, she caught wafts of the scent of his after shave, a citrussy but rich smell that she instantly wanted to breathe more of. She lost track of what he was saying as she though about caressing the smooth skin of his perfectly shaven cheeks, and inhale his cologne just under his ear where it would mix with a scent that was only his and that she longed to discover. She wondered how his well kept mustache would feel scratching her skin an-

He asked her a question then, and she had no clue what he just said so she only smiled like an idiot. He forgave her with a small chuckle, blaming it on the scorching sun, and repeated his inquiry like the kind gentleman he was.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Damn she had it bad.

(More EmmRook on my blog or here on AO3)

[serbarris]

Imagine Being Loved By Me

Dragon Age: the Veilguard, no spoilers

Pairing: F!Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich Volkarin 

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Emmrich gives Rook a gift, then takes care of her *waggles eyebrows suggestively*

Words: <1000

Extension of the 7th scene in I'll Crawl Home to Her

Slowly being added to ao3

“My dear, please sit still or else I shan’t be able to give this gift properly.” Emmrich teased. Of course, he’d give her the present no matter what. But after finally acquiring a fitting token of his affection, his love, he wanted to give it to Rook exactly as he imagined. Calliope had once again stolen one of Emmrich’s shirts to wear, undone, over her undergarments. Calliope enjoyed being surrounded by the scent of Emmrich, which helped calm her, remembering the times Emmrich had helped ground her with his embrace.

Stepping behind her to the other side of his desk, he opened the soft bag that contained her gift. “Close your eyes,” Emmrich asked, peering around to ensure her eyes were tightly shut. Letting out an exhale of satisfaction Emmrich gathered Rook’s hair, holding it tightly in his hands he twisted her hair up and out of the way, a wry smile on his lips as he pulled lightly on the bundle. Calliope let out a gentle hiss, and heat began to pool between her legs. “If you could please hold your hair?”

Satisfied, Emmrich proceeded to undo the clasp of the necklace, threading it around Rook’s neck, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he did so. After it was joined, Emmrich’s fingers lightly traced the chain over her clavicle, and he placed tender kisses on the back of Rook’s neck. Calliope felt the cool weight of the necklace on her sternum, reaching up to touch the pendant, she gasped as she raised it into her view. Finely detailed skeletal hands cast in gold grasped a large garnet, it was hard to tell upside down but it almost looked like the stone was vaguely heart-shaped. “Emmrich, this is far too much! I can’t imagine what it must have cost!” Emmrich paused his careful mapping of Rook’s neck with his lips and moved closer to her ear, his light stubble scratching at Rook’s skin.

“I saw this when we were back home and I couldn’t resist picturing how it would look around your neck, Calliope.” Added to the ministrations on her neck, he knew the reaction she had to Emmrich saying her real name, how a delicious red would start to paint her cheeks and chest, creating the perfect trail for Emmrich’s fingers to follow as he pushed her shirt to the side. Calliope’s squirms brought herself closer to Emmrich, her back hitting his chest as he gently grasped Calliope’s neck with one hand, his other tracing the long line of her tattoo down towards her soft lower stomach. His cool rings icy against her heat.

“Emmrich” she gasped, breath hitching, reaching for the back of his neck, bringing him closer, and kissing him deeply. Soft moans emanated from the both of them, Calliope broke away inhaling, trying to extricate herself from Emmrich’s grasp, but he coaxed her back to her original position. “Calliope, this is about you, my love.”

The hand around her neck loosened, tracing down her chest until it enclosed around her covered breast. The pressure was a welcome relief to Calliope, her nipples already straining against the fabric of her bandeau. Emmrich’s hand slipped under the fabric, allowing him to tweak and pinch her nipples as she mewled, “Emmrich, please.” Her back arched into the hand playing with her breast, Emmrich’s other holding her hip tight.

“Patience Calliope.” Calliope shivered at the loss of heat as Emmrich pulled away, moving in front of her, pausing to take her in as she sat before him wound tight and panting from his teasing.

“Remove your undergarments” Emmrich ordered, his tone heavy with lust. Calliope began to remove his shirt from her body, “The shirt stays.” Emmrich directed.

Loosening the laces of her bandeau and knickers Calliope shimmied to let them drop to the floor unceremoniously. Emmrich’s eyes darkened as he drank in her body. She had yet to put on her own jewellery that day, her mismatched gold still sitting on Emmrich’s bedside as they had a rare day to themselves. The necklace he’d given her lay between her plump breasts, the candlelit room casting shadows across her tattooed sternum. His shirt draped over her naked form as she waited for his next move.

Something primal heated in Emmrich’s chest at the sight of Calliope only wearing his shirt and his gift. Calliope heated under his gaze, her chest almost as red as the jewel laying upon it. “Look at you,” Emmrich began, stepping forward and taking Calliope’s chin in his hand, “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing you flush with desire, my darling. When we were flirting I always wondered what colour your cheeks might bloom during intimacy, and now I know they redden like a rose because of my touch.”

Emmrich’s thumb grazed her bottom lip before he gripped Calliope’s hips, pulling her towards his body as he captured her mouth in a rough kiss. Calliope yelped as they collided, feeling Emmrich’s hard length between her legs. Instinctively she rolled her hips, moaning as she attained some of the friction she desperately sought.

“So needy Calliope.” Emmrich chuckled, Calliope’s breath hitched as Emmrich’s hand cupped her mound, a sound of pleasure leaving Emmrich as he felt the damp curls between her legs, his middle finger tracing up and down her slit, threatening to plunge between her folds.

“I want to see you come undone by my touch,” Emmrich growled, plunging his fingers into Calliope, leaving her gasping as he stroked her exactly where she needed. “Wearing my shirt, my necklace, you have me completely enthralled Calliope. You are mine.”

Calliope whimpered as Emmrich’s words aided her to dance along the edge of release, she was so close, her core tight as she constricted around Emmrich’s fingers. His thumb found her clit, gently pressing down on the nub, knowing this would cause her climax. “That’s it Calliope, cum for me.”

[aldisobey]

Food for thought. Maybe off topic, but I was military. You’re known by title and last name so often in an environment like that, and I feel that might be similar in a collegiate environment? I find Emmrich’s insistence on being called by his first name when joining the Veilguard so endearing.

Like yes, he’s Professor Volkarin there at work, at his job. But here comes Rook and the Veilguard and from the start he wants to engage as equals. Not be some outside aide or expert they’re calling on from the Mourn Watch. He’s a part of this, and desperate for connections outside what he’s known as. He’s trapped by the dressings of esteemed professor in his home. Maybe that’s a reason he never found that true love.

Think of the prestige of his position, the rarity of corpse whispering, his distaste for nobles. It’s likely some Nevarrans have tried to use him and his desire for intimacy and romance to advance their own interests. No wonder he’s deep in the Shrouded Halls doing work alone. My exceedingly rich uncle would bemoan that he never knew if someone was really his friend, if they really liked him, or if they just wanted his resources and wealth and material he had to offer. He was ruined by desperate loneliness.

Apply that to everything Emmrich has to offer Nevarrans and the Mourn Watch, he’s a necromancer on the path to something as rare as lichdom. Are his peers real friends? Can they be real love? Has he had any real connection or was he the gifted orphaned that was taken advantage of young and detached as the reality of his situation settled?

Maybe I need to go over the dialogue more. But you’ll note Hezenkoss even calls him Volkarin (and you’ll note he calls her Johanna, he’s reaching out), and that makes sense, my old military friends still default to my last name. It’s familiar and dropping the title was comfy enough. But when you’re only known by that title and last name? When you never hear your name like it’s love?

Sure he joined the Veilguard because of what he has to offer, but on this team everyone is bringing unique and vital skills to the table, he’s not alone. And he wants to be just Emmrich. What a breath of fresh air it must’ve been to be truly seen and eventually known. No wonder he can fall so hard so fast for Rook. He finally gets to be Emmrich. Not the Professor.

[starlsen]

The Whisper That I Know

Fem!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin ✶ NSFW ✶ 2.4k words

Read on AO3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Rook was feeling tightly wound.

It certainly could be due to the journey she and her companions had found themselves on, searching high and low for something, anything to help them stop Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain from blighting the world. Perhaps the fighting was taking its toll on her body; whether it was darkspawn, demons, the Venatori or the Antaam… from battling the guardians in Arlathan Forest to clearing the blight from the Hossberg Wetlands, it was relentless. Unforgiving. Exhausting.

Quieter days were few and far between, leaving little time to unwind and recover before doing it all again the next day.

She dragged herself up the stairs, her feet like lead in her boots, each step a herculean effort. She rolled her shoulders, rubbed her neck with one hand and gripped the balustrade with the other, longing for a hot bath to soak her aching muscles and try, if only for a short while, to forget any of this was happening.

As she reached the top of the stairs, however, a flicker of green caught her eye and she paused, her gaze falling upon the statues that beckoned her towards the quarters she had become very familiar with in recent weeks. Thoughts of bright hazel eyes, secret smiles and hushed whispers settled over her, quickly giving way to thoughts of laced fingers pressed into silk sheets, breathless moans and lips trailing kisses on skin.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, letting it out slowly as she tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d felt his hands on her; how long it had been since she was kissed like it was the last time he’d ever do so. She suddenly became very aware of the tension in her shoulders, the longing in her heart, the throbbing ache between her legs.

She sighed.

Yes, she was feeling tightly wound indeed. And despite knowing she should probably head straight for her own quarters for a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, she instead found herself knocking on Emmrich’s door, opening it upon hearing his voice on the other side.

And there he was. Sitting by the fire, one leg crossed over the other, a book was cradled in his hands - Gods, his beautiful hands - his jewellery glittering in the firelight as he slipped a bookmark between the pages and peered over towards where she closed the door behind her.

“Darling,” He greeted, rising to his feet and oh, he wasn’t wearing his usual waistcoat. Rook swallowed. “I thought you’d be resting?” The decorative chain was missing from his shirt collar, which he’d unbuttoned to the base of his throat, exposing his neck and she was sure it had never looked more inviting. He looked utterly ethereal bathed in the warm glow of the fire and her lips parted at the sight before meeting his gaze, already crossing the space between them.

“Rook?”

She took the book from his hands and leaned around him to drop it onto the armchair, returning her gaze to his own before leaning up onto the tips of her toes, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss. Not a moment later, she felt his hands on her hips, and she pressed her body into his as she parted her lips to kiss him again. Gods, she'd missed this; the way he smelled, the way his lips felt on hers, the way he tasted. She pulled back just slightly, their breaths mingling between parted lips.

“I don’t need sleep,” She whispered, nuzzling his nose with her own. “I need you.”

His eyes searched her own for just a moment before they darkened and fell to her mouth, leaning in and capturing her lips in an open-mouthed kiss. He brought a hand up to cradle her jaw, the other winding around her middle and pulling her tightly against him. But then the hand pressing into the middle of her back stilled, and Emmrich pulled back slightly, earning a small sound of protest from Rook as she leaned in to chase his lips.

“Darling,” He said gently, fingers applying a slight pressure to the side of her neck, thumb brushing along her jaw. “You feel tense.” Violet eyes met his own, the light of the fire igniting the small ring of amber encircling her pupils.

“Nothing you can’t fix.” She said, sliding her hands down to the buttons on his shirt. A breathy chuckle escaped him, then, before placing his hands over her own, stilling her. Her brow came together, but he offered her a smile and brushed a chaste kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Lie down,” He said, and a moment later her brow relaxed, the smallest hint of a smile softening her features.

“Okay.” He stepped back to allow her to do so, settling on the thick, soft rug by the fireplace and watched as he slid the gold cuff from his forearm, and removing the leather glove underneath, setting both on top of the book on the armchair. The sight of his bare fingers tightened something in her core, and she willed her heart to slow down when he turned his attention to her once more, running his eyes down her body. His gaze was slow, purposeful, analysing, and she propped herself up on her elbows.

“There is something I would like to try,” Maker, his voice had dropped an octave. “Do you trust me, Rook?” Her chest tightened.

“You know I do.” He glanced down at her body again, and she quirked a brow. “What are you-”

She gasped, heat flooding to her cheeks as a phantom touch suddenly pressed against her core, fingers stroking over her leather pants. A familiar green glow emanated between her legs, his magic encircling his fingertips, and her chest began rising and falling quickly as her heart started beating a little harder, a little faster.

“H-how,” She breathed, fighting the urge to rock against the gentle, rhythmic pressure as he approached her.

“There are a great many things my magic can do, my dear.” He said as he knelt before her, and she inhaled sharply when she felt lips on her neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin just below her ear. Her eyes fluttered, holding his gaze as he crawled over her, desire coiling tightly within her, squeezing and burning and aching as he settled between her legs. “And I think it’s high time I showed you.”

She surged forward to kiss him, needing to kiss him, and let out a frustrated whine when he placed a jewelled hand on her chest and gently pushed her back.

“Relax.” She laid back as instructed, and he offered her a smile before sliding his hand down her abdomen, raising the other and rolling his fingers before his magic placed a kiss on the other side of her neck. A breathless moan escaped her lips with a sigh and his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt, tugging it out of her pants and popping the buttons one by one.

“You are holding so much tension, my darling,” He mused. Cool air met the bare skin of her chest as he opened her shirt, and she watched as he leaned down to press a kiss to her sternum, his eyes never leaving her own. “It simply won’t do.” She couldn’t help the wicked grin that spread across her lips, and his own turned up in a devilish smirk in return.

“Is that so?” She whispered, and he hummed before pressing his lips to her abdomen. Her eyes slipped shut, tipping her head back and arching into his touch, reaching to thread her fingers through his hair. Her fingertips had barely brushed his silken strands before a phantom touch gripped her wrists, raising her hands above her head and pinning them to the floor. Her breath rushed from her lungs, and she felt him smile against her stomach as his lips trailed lower still, fingers gripping the waistband of her pants and underwear.

“Up.” Was his only command and she lifted her hips obediently as he tugged them down her thighs, using his magic to slip off her boots and remove her pants and underwear with ease. She peered at him through her lashes to find him kneeling between her legs, eyes fixed on her sex. She blushed furiously at the hunger in his eyes and gasped sharply when he motioned with his fingers, his magic suddenly there, a tongue sliding through her folds.

“Fuck,” She moaned, throwing her head back and arching her back, pleasure surging through her core as his magic rolled over her, circling her clit, sliding rhythmically over her slit. She felt the warmth of his body over her as his fingers slipped around the back of her neck, guiding her face to his and he claimed her lips in an open mouthed kiss. She whimpered as his tongue flicked over her bottom lip, and Maker take her because there were mouths all over her body; lips trailing kisses down her neck, over her chest, along the inside of her thighs. Hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushed over her nipples, fingers gripped her hips.

It was all she could do to moan shamelessly into the kiss, almost on the verge of sobbing, the dizzying sensations utterly overwhelming her senses as Emmrich worked his magic; it was beyond anything she could have possibly imagined, and it was him, only him. She writhed beneath him, her breaths hot and heavy between kisses, needing more, needing him.

And then he slipped a hand between her legs, his fingers becoming slick with her pleasure, and she barely had a moment to register the feeling of his digits working in tandem with the phantom touch of his magic before he slid two fingers inside her. She cried out, breaking the kiss and she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think; he curled his fingers and brushed the spot that left her body trembling, his magic still sliding a tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves. She panted, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood like fire in her veins and roaring in her ears.

“Breathe.” He said, and she opened her eyes, damn near falling apart at the sight of his eyes appearing so dark, half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from their kiss. She tried to catch her breath, though they came in short, sharp gasps. “Slow,” He said, voice low, and continued to steadily pump and curl his fingers inside her. “Deep.”

She nodded, words failing her, inhaling through her nose and letting it out shakily through parted lips. The smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth left butterflies swarming in the pit of her stomach, her core tightening around his fingers and he leaned in, lips barely brushing over her own.

“Good,” He murmured, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. “Very good, darling.” Her eyes fluttered shut once more as he pressed a kiss to her lips, and she parted them all too happily for his tongue to sweep in and slide against her own.

Mouths pressed against her neck and shoulders, teeth gently grazed her earlobes, hands massaged her breasts and tongues swept over her nipples; she arched into the touch, the featherlight caresses along her thighs, the fingers digging into her hips.

Something pulsed inside her. A strangled moan tried to escape her throat, muffled by his kiss, as tendrils of his magic spread within her, draping themselves over her core and pulsing rhythmically against that spot, again and again and again as he pumped his fingers harder, faster. She wasn’t sure if she was moaning or sobbing as tears burned behind closed lids, the pleasure mounting rapidly, her entire body tightening and trembling and oh, he was relentless. The magical restraints slid from her wrists to lace phantom fingers through her own, pressing them harder into the floor above her head. His kiss was punishing, bruising, swallowing her cries; and when he moaned into the kiss, that was all it took to push her over the edge. She tightened around his fingers, her thighs squeezing his hips, and the air was forced from her lungs in a silent scream as her mouth fell open and he took her bottom lip between his teeth.

Her orgasm erupted, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing through her entire body so ferociously it left her toes curling and fire coursing through her veins. Her ears were ringing and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; relief came when her lungs opened and she gulped down air, sweet, precious air, and she was certain that in that moment, the world stopped spinning and the earth shattered around them.

“That’s it,” He purred, brushing his thumb over her cheek, trailing kisses along her jaw as his praise melted away any lingering tension in her body. “Let it go, darling.” Her pleasure slowed to a gentle ebb and flow as his magic calmed and she whimpered as he eased his fingers out of her sex. Her heart was racing and she felt the grip loosening from her hands, though she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak; she simply laid there, catching her breath, her chest rising and falling as his magic left her body and it was just the warmth of the fire and his body over hers.

She felt his fingertips brush a strand of hair from her forehead before cradling her cheek with his hand, and she turned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. His breath was warm and ghosted over her cheek as he chuckled.

“Rook,” He said gently, and she hummed, nuzzling into his hand, his rings cool against her skin. “Look at me, my love.” Her eyes opened slowly, though remained half-lidded as she obliged him, violet meeting rich hazel, and she smiled. He returned the gesture, fine lines branching from his eyes as he did so, and she positively swooned as her heart soared in her chest.

“You are so beautiful.” She said, bringing her hands from above her head to hold his own that still cradled her cheek. His brows rose slightly before a bashful laugh escaped his lips as she leaned into his touch, into his warmth, and sighed. “That was…” She trailed off, and he bit his lip briefly before smiling broadly.

“Yes, I’d hoped it would be.” She snorted, and his eyes softened before he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her lips. “Do you feel better?” He asked, brushing his nose against her own.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk any time soon,” She quipped, and he laughed heartily. “But yes.” She sighed. “Better than ever.”

[ellie-writes-games]

Emmrich Gives Spite "the Talk"

With Lucanis understandably uncomfortable talking to Spite about romance, Emmrich steps up and gives Spite "the talk." Or...the closest thing he's gonna get to it. 🤣

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 12 of Burn After Reading banter series ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

I adored those little parental moments that Emmrich, Davrin, and Lucanis shared while trying to wrangle their unhinged little boys.

What kind of banter did you wish there was more of in the game? I have a bit of writing that I'm editing down for future posts, but I'd love to open it up to suggestions too. Dialing in character voices is my favorite kind of work so these are quite rewarding to work on.

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.

[pavus]

UNEARTH — emmrook.

Words: 2738. Characters: Emmrich Volkarin x Rook — Anais Ingellvar. Rating: Teen. Summary: Trying to sleep when injured is a near-impossible thing, but with Emmrich's assistance, Rook finds the comfort she needs to get some rest. AO3 LINK.

Anais shut her eyes as she sank - carefully - down onto her bedroll, favoring one shoulder above the other. Still, she felt the pulled muscle in her chest stretch as she eased herself back. It sent an ache along the length of her collarbone and into her sternum, a warm pain radiating throughout her upper torso. Her breath caught in the quiet of her tent — a strained whisper of surprise.

The group did not spend much time outside of the Lighthouse, not with Solas's extensive network of eluvians close at-hand, but on that night, they had no other choice.

A wrenched arm and a broken bone stopped them in their tracks, kept them from returning home, but luckily, neither she nor Harding had been infected with the Blight during the battle. The same could be said of Emmrich, who'd spent the better part of the afternoon and the beginning of a tumultuous night tending to their scout's leg.

Lace was no longer suffering from her injury, at least, and the gentle hum of Emmrich's caretaking had quieted hours ago, leaving behind only the crackle of a soft-spoken fire and the inobtrusive song of nature as it settled in to sleep, just as they were.

Propped up against her pack and the well-loved pillow she often carried with her, Anais shifted, turning, fussing with her weary limbs in an attempt to find a comfortable position. She sighed, frustrated, but even that made her chest spasm. Even after so many months of training to improve her stamina, the slightest injury felt like the end of something. She was no physical ideal, no honed image of health. She was just a foolish young woman who'd whipped her staff around in a panic and pulled something.

Typical scholar bullsh.it.

How exhausting.

Anais pinched her eyes shut again in hopes of forcing the issue of sleep. Behind her eyelids, she saw the faint glow of the campfire. From her right ear, a muffled and indistinct hum, and from her left, a clearer song, as Arlathan's unstable magic coiled through the air around her. Gooseflesh rose on her arms from both the forest's ancient suffering and her fresher, clearer pain, like a bell in a storm.

There would be no sleeping, then, not without the aid of alcohol or a particularly potent potion.

Instead of reaching for either, she sought out a different method. A tangle of words occurred to her — a broken Nevarran lullaby that she could barely recall. There were spotted beetles' wings, each of them numbering differently, and a child that sought to set them in a row. The lullaby was a maze of a thing, and without remembering the song to the letter, Anais lost herself inside of it.

She was so lost, in fact, that she didn't hear Emmrich clear his voice outside of her tent. So lost that her lack of a response led to him poking his head inside, equal parts curious and worried.

"Anais?"

The woman in question sat suddenly upright — more surprised than cautious — and she let go of a string of curses that she muffled into the cup of her palm. A tremor followed the curve of her spine as she curled over the throb in her chest, but she bit her lip to keep from uttering the pained sound that clawed at her throat.

Healing a broken bone required an incredible amount of magic, and she would not demand more from their professor, not for something that even she would be able to mend if her reservoir of mana hadn't been so depleted by the fight they'd stumbled into that afternoon.

But he would insist.

Even in the shadowed half-dark of her tent, she saw in his eyes that he would insist.

"I… apologize for the profanity, professor," Anais murmured, blinking hot tears onto her lashes rather than her flushed cheeks. She smoothed her hand over her face from her lips to her brows and rubbed the warm skin beneath her bangs. "I was just drifting off."

Emmrich swept away her concerns and her lies with a mere flick of his wrist.

"An impressive feat, considering our surroundings," he offered before glancing around the… intimate interior of her tent. With barely enough room for one and a half grown adults to stretch out comfortably, there was nowhere near enough space to stand for someone quite so lanky. "Our fearless leader really ought to be granted more comfortable lodgings."

Despite the tension in her chest, Anais felt the corners of her mouth twitching into something resembling a smile.

"Do you intend to carry it?"

Emmrich's gaze circled back to hers. His brows rose. "Oh, I couldn't imagine."

Her laugh was a quick little thing, but from the gleam in his eyes, she saw that he hadn't missed it.

"Here, sit to my right."

Anais shifted even as he opened his mouth to stop her, gingerly pivoting her body onto her right side and scooting to give him room enough to sit. She was still getting used to maneuvering around her hearing loss, and the enchanted aid she'd been given once she recovered from her fever did not play nice with the ambient magic that dwelled in Arlathan forest.

She barred her arm over her chest, hoping to stabilize the muscle as she moved and somewhat succeeding. "Before you offer, though," she began as he let himself down onto the far side of her bedroll, grunting under her breath as she shifted her generous hips onto the other, "I will have to decline any offers of healing."

"I —"

"Not until you've rested, at the very least," Anais amended.

Emmrich tutted, but Anais felt herself more charmed than chastened.

"Such interruptions and each of them unnecessary. I came to offer you my healing in the morning," Emmrich explained, "and to see if there was anything you required in the interim."

He drew no attention to it, but Anais saw him lift his chin in a way he never did when speaking to the others, as if he was hoping to pour his words down into her good ear so that his intentions wouldn't be lost to the bad. Something about his unspoken efforts left her feeling even warmer than before. There was no shortage of butterflies teasing the lining of her stomach, either. They were worryingly plentiful.

But she was not so inexperienced with speaking that she couldn't open her mouth without spilling her wanting all over the bedroll between them.

"I cannot think of a single thing, truthfully, save for the pleasure of your company."

Emmrich's eyes widened, if only a little. One day, they would know each others' steps. One day, every compliment and every promise and every smile wouldn't be a surprise. There was a comfort in that, in the guarantee of a… like-minded friendship.

Without his wrists' usual adornments, his movements did not clink or glimmer. He stretched his hands out, long, elegantly tapered fingers spreading, testing them for tremors only to find them gravely still. Even hours of healing was not enough to weaken him. And he wasn't even half as occupied with stamina training as she was.

In another world, at another time, she might have been embarrassed that a man some thirty years her senior was in finer shape than she was, but on that night, she was more inclined to watch him than worry about the state of herself.

She was too tired to complain.

He thumbed over the opposite wrist as a thoughtful expression settled on his face, the digit's tip sliding beneath the stiff wrist of his sleeve. "Were you having some difficulty finding your sleep, then?"

This time, Anais's sigh was implied.

If she didn't want the pain to return with a vengeance, she knew that she couldn't be so generous with her sighs. And she knew that she'd been found out, as well. He knew she hadn't been drifting off, that he hadn't interrupted a moment of her sleep. There was no relaxation to be found alongside pain, not without the intervention of magic or medicine.

Rather than responding with a simple yes, Anais bobbed her head in a nod.

"There may not be much room for us to share," Emmrich said, his voice slow and softly nasal as he settled down at her side, more easily than she had by half, "but if it is company you want in your hour of need, it is company you shall have."

Anais could not stop herself.

Leaning against the butt of her pack, she peered over at him and murmured a quiet, "Not need so much as want."

"In your hour of want, then."

Anais's dark eyes drifted shut, but she did not find the sleep that was so adeptly avoiding her. Instead, she spoke, murmuring a question as their bodies anchored nearer to each other: "How is Lace's leg?"

"The bone is set, and the muscle is in better shape than yours." Emmrich's report was a gentle thing. It lacked in an abundance of detail given the hour, but there was a precision that she appreciated. He always knew how to deliver news. "I planned to return to the Lighthouse in the morning and request Davrin's aid in bringing her back."

Without opening her eyes, Anais asked, "And what of me?"

"I thought you would require a great deal of my attention in the morning, hence my offer, but the pain is almost entirely from inflammation." She felt only a hint of pressure on her collar as his fingertips followed the fire-hot swatch of skin beneath the open collar of her tunic. "But I believe I am more than capable of healing you now."

His skin was soft. His fingertips bore no calluses save for the ones gained from decades of gripping a quill. He smelled of campfire smoke and medicinal balm, of faded sweat and a perfume that barely clung to his clothes.

Anais exhaled slowly.

Only when she took in another breath and her chest pressed flush against Emmrich's touch did she feel a tremble in his hand — the hand that had been so steady mere moments before.

"Emmrich?"

She opened her eyes to find him nearer to her than he had been before. No more than a foot separated their faces. Just enough light crept through the tent's walls to illuminate the sharp planes of his face, though the finer details were lost to shadow. His eyes were on her, though, and his lips were parted. Those two details, she kept circling back to.

His fingertips settled almost weightlessly against her collar. After a hard swallow and a moment of gathered strength, they no longer trembled.

"Yes, Anais?"

"Did you come in here to heal me, or did you come in here to kiss me?"

Both, Emmrich responded without using his words.

A faint golden glow bled from his fingertips into her skin and the wounded muscle underneath it, but the relief that followed was nothing compared to the spike of excitement that shot through her the moment his lips pushed into hers in the half-dark. He sucked in a sharp breath as they made contact, moments before his mouth opened again to kiss eagerly over her upper lip.

Just before the kiss, they had been far enough apart that their bodes only touched at the knees, but the distance was soon remedied as Anais squirmed forward, her pain earlier nothing more than a faded ache. Her thigh slid between his. Her belly tucked against the pliant curve of his skinny body. And her chest pushed flush against his own, with his hand still pinned in between them.

Her teeth brushed against his lip before biting down, and she felt his reaction more than heard it as his hips rocked forward against the soft fat of her hip.

Emmrich's mouth shifted the moment she allowed him his freedom, following the curve of her chin and the broad line of her jaw before demanding another kiss and another kiss and another. The hand pressed between their chests kneaded at the tender flesh above her breast rather than beneath, thumbing against the collar he'd been so intent on touching before sliding farther downward from her chest to her waist.

"Anais."

Hearing her name on his tongue left her breathless, unable to kiss him again as she leaned her forehead against his and sucked in a hungry breath. She held onto his jaw, half-cradling his cheek in her hand, as she struggled to clear the haze that had filled her mind from the healing as much as his mouth.

"Anais," Emmrich whispered to her, his nose brushing against hers as he waited patiently for her to recover. "My intention was to apologize for not tending to you tonight and leaving you languishing in such pain, but it appears… I could not help myself."

The hand poised on her waist slid around to the small of her back, and his fingers curled into her tunic, gripping at her, coaxing her closer. There was no space that remained between them, but that did not stop him from attempting to move nearer to her. And that did not stop her from encouraging it, her hips turning into him and above him as she pressed him back against her pillow.

Long, dark hair hung over her shoulder and pooled across his narrow chest, making it look every bit as if he was drowning in her.

"I could not bear to see you in such a wounded state," Emmrich whispered. He lifted his fingers to the hair that spilled over him, brushing his fingertips through the near-black locks and across the long line of her ear. "Nor could I bear to see you unkissed." A smile touched the corner of his thin lips. "Apparently."

Anais leaned forward, past his hand, and pushed her face against the carefully buttoned collar that laid against his long neck.

When he spoke, she couldn't hear the crackle and pop of the fire. She couldn't feel the strange whisper of elven magic against her skin. As close as she was to him, Emmrich was all there was — his scent, the movement of his chest, the sound of his breathing. Weariness tugged at her shoulders, at her limbs, weighing her down against his chest.

"Oh, darling," he exhaled. He pushed her hair away from her face and gathered it close to his own again. "You must rest."

Anais moved to protest, moved to kiss him again, but found the fingertips of his free hand nestled against her lips, stopping her just short of her goal. His brow pinched sharply upward before he gave a shake of his head.

"I would like nothing more than to indulge the both of us for hours…"

Anais strained forward, her mouth moving in the shape of an ardent, "Please," against his fingers.

"… but we must think of our companion."

Wanting was a selfish thing, but without the pain in her chest, she felt as if she deserved to be selfish, if only a little. But she also knew that Emmrich would not budge once he set down his foot, no matter how much he wanted what she offered, no matter how warm the sound of her voice had made him. And so, she relented.

Not once since meeting Emmrich Volkarin had she considered the path they would take towards each other — that pain would lead to relief would lead to a fire that threatened to turn her belly to ash.

"On one condition," Anais murmured as she settled down by his side. Her cheek found the curve of his shoulder, and she wound an arm across his tapered waist. His fingers wove into her hair before rubbing at the scalp beneath.

"Mm?"

"Talk to me." She buried her nose against him. Her next words were muffled, but making them out wasn't difficult. "Until I fall asleep."

Where she laid her head, Anais could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Emmrich did not want to sleep any more than she did.

His lips found the top of her head.

And until she fell asleep, he spoke — of a winding Nevarran lullaby, with beetles and their numbered wings and the child who sought to keep them all in line. He took her hand and led her through the maze, and she swore to herself that she would never forget their order.

[guillotinethechantry]

Replaying the game and I am not normal about this. IS THIS FORESHADOWING ? I don't know but it is for me!

Do you think that while Rook was stuck into the fade they thought about this. "I just have to find the way forward... Emmrich wouldn't be wrong about this."

Do you think Emmrich clung to this knowledge while searching for Rook?

How do I cope now?

[beetlethebug]

i love rook and emmrich being into each other's hands to obnoxious freak levels. apparently i've just got the biggest hand kink. but something about emmrich realizing that he's so fucking into rook's hands at the dinner table, and then having to survive said dinner without saying an embarrassing, definitely not-safe-for-work thought at the table in front of the rest of the veil guard is very very fun. this man watches rook's fingers wrap around their wine glass and nearly has to excuse themselves. if he thinks too long about how nice the light reflecting off their rings looks he will become loose lipped and bring that hand to his mouth. and when rook, sensing an opportunity to tease and never one to let an opportunity slip by, starts running their hand along emmrich's thigh under the table? Purposely bumping their hands together as they reach for dishes? Oh, Emmrich is a goner

[flightlessangelwings]

Beautifully Undone

Emmrich Volkarin x Rook (gender neutral)

Word count- 1.3k

Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, praise, romance, established relationship, porn without plot, no description of Rook so you can imagine whatever you want!

Notes- Dedicated to my darling @ollypopwrites who has been fueling thoughts of our beloved necromancer! It's so nice to send filth back and forth again! Please do check out her fics too cause they're hot and fantastic!! And I purposefully made this gender neutral so this can be enjoyed by everyone (I romanced Emmrich with a trans woman Rook) but you can picture whatever you wish! Enjoy!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date. I also post on AO3 under the same name

~ 

“Darling, your beauty would make even the strongest of men weep,” Emmrich purred as he slipped his last ring off his finger and placed it beside Rook.

“Do I see tears in your eyes, Emmrich?” Rook smirked.

“Quite surely,” he replied as he reached for his gold band on his wrist.

“Wait,” Rook grabbed his hand, stopping him, “Leave those on.”

Emmrich’s eyes trailed up to meet Rook’s gaze. The sincere look he found there made his heart swell, “As you wish, darling,” his tone dropped, “You know I could never deny you anything you wanted, my dearest.”

Rook’s skin warmed as a soft sigh escaped, “Emmrich…”

He had Rook stripped naked and seated on his desk, legs spread open and his rings laid out on either side. Emmrich remained fully clothed, the only flash of skin was the top buttons undone at Rook's insistence, wanting to see more of him. The glimmer of gold framed Rook’s figure perfectly, and the necromancer had to take a step back and admire the sight on his desk.

“Beautiful, darling,” he muttered as he took in a sharp breath at the way Rook looked at him.

“Come here,” Rook reached for him.

A chuckle emitted from Emmrich’s throat as he complied, leaning forward into his love’s embrace and crashing their lips together. He swallowed the moan Rook let out as they tasted each other. A rush of heat of his own pulsed through his body, making his pants strain with the ever growing and ever insatiated need for Rook.

“Mmm,” Emmrich groaned into the kiss as his hands roamed all over Rook’s body. He studied every dip and curve, memorizing every inch of his love. He huffed with amusement as his tongue tangled with Rook’s and he found a particularly sensitive spot. “I could never get enough of you, my darling.”

Rook’s mind spun already just from his kiss. And Emmrich’s touch was almost intoxicating, “Neither can I, Emmrich,” Rook mumbled as he moved down to nibble on a sensitive spot of the neck. 

“Decadently sweet, my darling,” Emmrich murmured against Rook’s skin as he licked at the tight muscle on the base of the neck, making Rook mewl. 

Rook clung to Emmrich’s shoulders, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling the fine fabric. But Emmrich didn’t care, in fact he hardly noticed as his mind was consumed with his lover. It was only when Rook’s hand made its way to his hair and gave the greys a tug that he groaned.

“Emmrich…” Rook sighed as tender hands caressed up and down.

“I have you, darling,” he gave Rook one last kiss before he broke away to admire the sight before him once again. 

“And you always will,” Rook replied without a hint of doubt or hesitation.

The necromancer hummed as his eyes trailed down his beloved’s body. His hands followed his gaze, starting at Rook’s jaw. Cupping it gently to kiss Rook again, Emmrich ran his hands down to pinch at Rook’s nipples, and he delighted in the reaction that pulled. He gently massaged Rook’s chest for a moment before he adjusted his posture, holding onto his love by the hip with one arm while the other snaked in between the legs.

“Rook.”

“Please, Emmrich,” Rook all but begged, “You can’t stop now.”

His eyes darkened as he cupped between Rook’s legs, feeling the arousal that built up there. “Dearest,” he whispered as he carefully pushed a finger inside.

Rook’s mouth dropped open and eyes shut. All Rook could do was pant as Emmrich quickly added a second finger. The connection was a feeling unlike anything else Rook had ever felt before, and it caused a flutter within Rook’s chest.

“Maker,” Emmrich gasped as Rook’s warmth enveloped his fingers.

“Move, Emmrich… Please.”

He placed a tender kiss on the lips before he rested his forehead against Rook’s. He groaned, feeling his cock strain as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of his love. The sounds that came from Rook’s mouth were tantalizing, and it only spurred him on more. Encouraged with every moan and cry, Emmrich moved a little faster, savoring every little sound he heard.

But there was another sound that added more to the moment: his bracelets. The way they clanged and chimed with every thrust of his arm harmonized with Rook’s moans perfectly. And it was beautiful music to the necromancer’s ears. He grinned against his love as he realized this was what Rook intended all along... Clever. 

“Darling…”

Rook’s eyes blinked open and were met with Emmrich’s loving gaze. A deep sigh warmed their faces as Rook’s heart skipped a beat. But, just as Rook was about to say something witty in response, Emmrich’s fingers found just the right spot deep inside. “Oh!” Rook cried out, “Emm…”

“That’s it’ darling,” he purred as he pumped his fingers in and out, slowly and reply, feeling every soft spot inside of Rook, “Show me, love,” he murmured as his voice went hoarse from his own strain, “Show me how beautiful you are when you come undone.”

All Rook could do was cry out in ecstasy as the room spun. With every thrust of Emmrich’s long fingers, coming undone became closer and closer. Waves of pleasure crashed through Rook as tingles erupted all over. Heat rose between the two lovers as Emmrich murmured soft praises in Rook’s ear as he thrust his fingers as deep as he could reach. 

“Emmrich…” Rook moaned as a climax quickly built up inside.

“Come, darling. I’m here to catch you.”

His voice was that final push that sent Rook tumbling over the edge. Emmrich’s fingers hooked inside, stroking that sweet spot deep inside of Rook over and over again as screams of pleasure echoed in the room. Rook’s legs trembled on either side of his slender body. Leaning on him for support, Rook’s orgasm made the room feel like it was on fire and inside a tornado at the same time. It was overwhelming pleasure in the best way possible, and Rook knew it was something that could only have come from Emmrich. His expert touch mixed with his unwavering adoration was the perfect formula to make Rook come completely undone. And Rook would have it no other way.

As tears started to form in the corners of Rook’s eyes, Emmrich knew it was time to back off. For now at least. He slowed his movements, coaxing just that last bit of climax from Rook’s body before he stilled his fingers inside. Every little moan and whimper went right to his core as he felt the sticky evidence of Rook’s release on his palm.

Rook was a mess, and had never looked more beautiful to Emmrich.

“Exquisite, my dearest,” he hummed in Rook’s ear before kissing it.

The only response Rook had was a breathy laugh. A gasp then escaped Rook’s throat as Emmrich slowly pulled his fingers out, his bracelets jingling slightly at the careful movement. Immediately, his arms wrapped around Rook and held on tightly. He placed a series of light kisses on the side of his love’s head, his lips lingering on the temple for just a moment longer.

“Emmrich…” Rook breathed before kissing the necromancer deeply.

“Darling,” he whispered between tender kisses.

Rook’s hands landed on Emmrich’s chest, gently trying to push him back. But, Rook found him unmoveable. Breaking away from the kiss, Rook questioned, “Emmrich?”

“Darling,” Emmrich smirked as he kissed Rook’s forehead, “You didn’t believe I was finished with you just yet, did you?” his voice dropped as he dropped to his knees before Rook, looking up with a fire in his eyes, “My love, we are just getting started.”