#oz ingellvar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragonagegayz · 18 days ago

Text

Even Angels Lose Control

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Emmrich x Rook, Emmrook, Emmrich x Trans! Male Rook, Emmrich x Mourn Watch Rook

Word Count: 5,357

Summary: Emmrich (and the rest of the team) is feeling the flirtatious heat from their illustrious leader Oz or "Rook" as they mainly know him. What happens when the senior necromancer starts having less than pure thoughts of his smooth-talking, flirt of a qunari? Smut of course! (Or the 6 times Emmrich Jorked it to the thought of Oz and the one time he helped him jork it)

This is time 1

Title: Hold My Place In Heaven by Saint Motel

NSFW Tags: Masturbation

If there was one thing that took Emmrich by surprise the most about Rook, it was just how much of a flirt the qunari was. Well, it was one of the many things, he’d never met anyone in the Mourn Watch that was so… animated, quick-tongued, and teasing. He was just, not what the senior necromancer was used to when interacting with other Mourn Watchers and from what he had heard around the Necropolis (not that he was trying to listen, he found gossip often an over exaggeration of the person in question ((Oz’s was, in fact, not an over exaggeration, as he later learned))) it was simply the way he was.

Emmrich wasn’t the only one who noticed, he was certain of that. It seemed everyone on the team got some sort of special attention from the warrior, batted eyelashes, gentle caresses, and those damn winks the qunari loved to do. And it wasn’t as if the way the man did it was done cheaply. He was very observant in the way everyone reacted and would cater his flirting to what they preferred. There was always a sort of teasing under it but everyone’s special attention was just that, special to them. It seemed as if the entire team was a little smitten with their flirtatious leader, which made the mage a little… confused.? He wanted to know what was beyond joking flirts and teasing looks, was there something else behind Oz’s attention or was simply the way he was?

The necromancer wouldn’t be… upset if it were something more. He was flattered in general that the qunari even looked his way, especially with the rest of the team easily being better for his attention than a 52-year-old Emmrich Volkarian. The others were closer to the man’s age by a good 10 years after all, Rook being the youngest of the Veilguard at 23 (that thought always made the mage a little sick to his stomach, after all a whole 30 years were between them) and Emmrich was… well Emmrich. From stories that the mage definitely hadn’t been listening in on, most of the senior staff didn’t necessarily have good words to say about the young man’s attitude towards them. Taunting words, pranks that were so elaborate some swore the man had to be a mage and so many other horrors he had heard for Oz terrorizing the Necropolis.

And maybe that was true but Emmrich had yet to see it and either way, it didn’t necessarily take away any from the young man’s roguish, anti-authorine charm.

So yes, Emmrich couldn’t deny he somewhat preened under the attention of the warrior and yes, maybe he was starting to watch the man more in battle as he smashed enemies in with incredible strength, especially for the rather scrawny build the man had. And maybe, while he was watching said warrior, he watched as the maul the man uses was knocked from his hand by some mercenaries they were fighting on in the Wetlands. Then maybe, just maybe, while watching and before he could help, the necromancer witnessed as his fellow Mourn Watcher tackled the man who had managed to knock the weapon away, before throwing him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing and falling straight back on the fool, crushing his skull with the muscle Emmrich just knew was packed onto the man’s back. (He knew it very well actually, Oz liked to wear rather revealing armor) The disgusting squish of the poor fool’s skull should have made the mage’s stomach squeeze and the blood left on the qunari’s back should have made him pull an unpleased face but instead, he found himself…hot.

His blood felt warm as it rushed through his veins, the adrenal making him run very warm as it was but this was… It felt like fire in his body burning oh so hot as he desperately tried to refocus his mind on the fight and not what was going on down in his now much tighter pants. He would have been able to as well if Rook hadn’t just decided to abandon his two-handed weapons in favor of just his bare hands and damn if the qunari just wasn’t powerful. There wasn’t even a hesitation in his fighting style, he was quick and decisive with every blow he threw out, fists cracking jaws and hands wrapping around arms just to snap them with a tight squeeze. It was ridiculously impressive, something that would take a deep knowledge of the body to know which weak points would snap in such a way. Emmrich knew his face must have been bright red as the fight finally finished out, lungs in desperate need of air but he found it hard to breathe as he stared in awe at the qunari.

Sweat dripped down the man’s neck to his collar bone, blood spattered his body and his hair had been pulled from the top knot it usually was in and the man’s bangs stuck to his forehead slick with a mix of blood and sweat. It was hot. Emmrich tried desperately to swallow but his throat was dry, painful. He wondered if Oz would let him run his long down his body, let him follow a drop of sweat to sate his thirst. He hopelessly tried to shake that thought away. How inappropriate! No matter if there was an attraction between the two or not, the necromancer knew far better than to think of anyone in such a way. He was a senior mage after all, no longer a young, horny man who only knew how to think with his dick. He was better than this, a true shame he should feel for such a dirty, unacceptable.

“Alright there Emm?”

With an undignified yelp, the older man turned on his heel and looked up to see Rook right behind him, looking down at him with a curious smirk. Emmrich choked on his spit for a second, coughing behind his hand (and hoping it was hiding his blush) as he tried to clear his still-dry throat. When he tried to speak at first he found his voice raspy so he had to clear his throat again. The entire time the other Mourn Watcher’s smirk never disappeared. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” He hoped his voice wasn’t as shakey as he felt it was. “Just a little winded from the fight, but what about you? I saw that man knock your weapon from your hands,” Oz threw his head back as he laughed, circling the mage towards the mercenary that had managed to take the qunari off guard. “I’d say he learned his lesson, glad my Padre taught me hand combat too, it defiantly saved my ass,” He mused as he looked down at the squished corpse before turning back to look at the older man, the damnable smile only making Emmrich’s cheeks burn more. “You sure you’re alright? You seem real flush over there professor,” It was said in such a teasing way, like he knew just what was going through the dirty old man’s mind. The senior Mourn Watcher desperately tried for a relaxed smile but he figured it was strained from the way the other man’s smirk deepened even more. Damnation. “I promise I’m fine, that fight was just a little intense, lots of adrenaline,” He reasoned, watching as the qunari nodded, approaching him. “True enough,” The man said back, stopping right in front of the necromancer making the older man have to tilt his head up to keep looking at Rook. Emmrich’s breath hitched at the dark look in his eyes. He leaned down even further. “You know professor~” Why, oh why did Oz have to say it like that? “If you need help burning off-”

“Bad guys coming!” Harding’s voice cut through the two and Rook was quick to pull away, looking to where the dwarf had yelled. A mischievous grin took the place of that flirtatious dark smirk. “Ha! Probably mad about their friends,” The qunari whipped around to wink at the older man. “Ready for another fight?” All Emmrich could do was nod, watching as the other man rushed into the fight, hands ready to grab and attack.

May the dead preserve Emmrich, this young man was going to be the death of him.

“You need your weapon, Rook!”

“Oh, right!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the group returned to the Lighthouse, each other covered in bits of blight darkspawn and Oz still caked in blood, it was a bit of a blessing. Emmrich needed to get away from the young qunari, just to relax and decompress from… whatever had happened during the fight.

Emmrich couldn’t shake the memory of the other Morun Watcher’s eyes, staring down at him like a predator ready to catch its prey. The low tone of his voice was when he had leaned in, calling him professor~ in such a way that there was no possible way the warrior didn’t know what he was doing. But it felt strange to keep this interaction at such a pinnacle, especially after Emmrich witnessed the way Oz had brushed Harding’s hair from her face when the second round of mercenaries was dead. The way he looked at her, the way her cheeks turned pink, it felt all too familiar. It was just all a bit confusing to the necromancer, it had been a few years since he had been in the dating game and Oz was unlike anyone he had ever been interested in. Usually, Emmrich was the smooth one of his partners, he was usually the one causing them to blush and sputter with smooth words and nicknames. And he usually had a much better grip on the dirty thoughts in his mind. He never knew such moves lingered, stayed in the mind, and replayed over and over again.

The man had decided on his way back and needed a nice long refresh in the bath chamber, a long stand under the warm water of the waterfall the fade provided should be enough to clear his mind and dick of these lingering thoughts. So when the man made it back to his room, he grabbed his change of clothes, and his bathing set and asked Manfred to start some tea for him he was off to the bath chamber. It was hidden behind the main point of the Lighthouse, cozily tucked in a corner. He made sure to peak his head in first, seeing if the place was vacant which much to his luck it was so he allowed himself the freedom to hum to himself as he made his way to the waterfall area. It wasn’t too large, just a room made up of rocks which were around a waterfall falling through the middle, from who knows what source.

One time Rook had asked him where the water could come from and when Emmrich said “The fade always provides,” the qunari rolled his eyes in such a fond way that Emmrich nearly broke out into a giggle.

Emmrich was careful with his things as he set aside his change of clothes and stripped his soiled clothes, hoping it wasn’t his detail of laundry this week, he hated trying to get blight out of fabric. He checked the temperature with his hand more out of habit than anything, everything in the fade seemed to always be a perfect temperature when he went to check these things. When he stepped under the water, it was like an instant effect the way the tension in his body dropped away and a sigh pushed its way out of his chest. Nothing beat the feeling of warm water washing away the day’s muck and grim, from both the wetlands and the fights he found himself in. Those horrible mercenaries were the most annoying in their fights of the day. It felt entirely unnecessary and cruel, going around looting the already struggling Wardens for nothing more than some gold, selfishness pervades even in the world-ending times it seemed. Thankfully they were there to help stop the said ruffins from causing any more harm, Oz in particular was just phenomenal today. He seemed to glisten in the dark lands, covered in all that sweat and blood, his shoulders heaving in breaths of air as he looked down at Emmrich with that downright dirty smile.

The mage’s breath hitched as he felt heat rush through his body again, all running south with such speed his head spun a little.

Oh no.

There was no excuse of adrenaline this time, no excuse of an intense fight to cover his heady rush of heat. Just Emmrich, his dirty inappropriate thoughts, and a hardening dick. Embarrassing didn’t even begin to describe the senior mage's feelings. He knew he should get out of the waterfall right now, march himself back to his room, and head straight to bed as he must be insanely tired to be thinking such thoughts about Rook. That’s what he should be doing but…

The water was so warm, the dirt still not completely washed from his body and with his cock well… Sure the qunari may be why he was in this predicament but as long as he didn’t think about the man, was it so bad? ‘Yes,’ The senior Mourn Watcher thought to himself as he carefully let his hand drift down, skirting along his lower stomach towards his now proud-standing dick. ‘As long as my thoughts stay away from him, there is no foul play here, right?’ It felt logical to him and he couldn’t deny the relief of finally being able to wrap a hand around his hard length. It had been far too long since he brought himself such pleasure, most of his rubs outs since coming to the Lighthouse were quick, taking care of a problem over being able to slow down and enjoy himself. And the ever attendant Emmrich knew just what he liked, a perk of age. He knew just how to move and breathe in the ways he loved, the ways that made everything oh so much more than just a hand on his dick desperately trying to get an orgasm. That’s mainly what he had been doing since coming to the Lighthouse, with the little privacy and time he had. But now, he seemed to actually have the time to lavish himself in attention, no one else had come into the baths yet and usually he would have been interrupted by now.

Why not take advantage of the alone time he had?

When he finally wrapped his hand around himself, the man had to throw his head back, letting the water spray his face as he bit down on his lips to stifle his sounds. Were he completely alone, the older mage would have let his noises free, he believed such things should never be hidden but what he was doing now was pushing his luck enough, he didn’t need to overindulge. The Mourn Watcher began to move his hand, a very slow up and down to get an idea if he needed something to slick his cock up which he concluded, he definitely would need to. With haste and an embarrassing lack of elegance, Emmrich scrambled for his shampoo, he knew it would subs up enough to lessen the friction of the water. Better than nothing he reasoned to himself as he got a glob in his hand, which went straight down to his dick even before he stood back up. A sharp intake of air echoed through the bath chambers, nothing too loud but unless they believed the senior necromancer to be in pain, someone who would potentially walk in would know what he was doing. As he stood he bit down on his lip, desperate to keep his noises in.

He started to move his hand, a slow rhythm of back and forth. He would go down, and let his long fingers linger on the base before he would sometimes slip past, getting a gentle grip on his balls before squeezing them. He would have to bite down on his lips even more, fight those deep rumbling noises wanting to crawl up his throat. Emmrich knew he had to let up when a tiny noise would slip past, be it a gasp or even at one point a moan, drifting back up to his shaft with the gliding fingers. Maybe Oz would touch him there, with that smirk on his lips as he watched the mage try to stifle his sounds. Emmrich aggressively shook his head off the thought, biting down on his tongue before recentering his brain to the touch of his dick. Accidental slip up, something he wouldn’t let happen again.

He was always gentle when he went up or down his cock, and treated his own the same he would treat one of his partners. With sweetness, with care, and of course, he would do the same to himself, everyone deserved such treatment after all. The shampoo subs helped the glide, though he wished he had something slicker to help his fingers go along his shaft. Something like an oil, maybe that honey oil he had brought from home, he did like the feel of it on his dick a lot, thick and so smooth. Would Oz let him use his slick to help with the friction? Would the warrior open his legs for Emmrich and beg to be used in such a way? The necromancer’s hold on his cock tightened, and another moan echoed, the loudest one yet. It took a few moments and a couple of squeezes to his dick for the man to return to himself, a weaker toss of his head this time. He needed to stay focused, he was getting close just a little more, a few more strokes, another squeeze to his balls, and…

If there was one surefire way to get the older man to finish, it was anything to do with his sensitive head, it practically glistened with precum, even with the water washing most of it away. Emmrich could easily deny his more aroused, dirty parts if it weren’t for the head of his traitorous cock. A few partners had managed to exploit this sensitivity in their sex lives, the one absolute way to make the man lose his composure, they had learned. An evil, evil trick that the senior mage loved. He loved to exploit it on himself as he did now, giving it barely enough attention but just enough to cause him to twitch, his cock jumping with every morsel of attention to the head. It was like sparks shooting off under his skin, flashes behind his eyelids as he tipped his head back, basking in the feeling of pleasure and the warmth of the water. It was as if everything he was feeling under his skin was also happening around his body and it was just wonderful.

Emmrich’s hips bucked and another gasp escaped his lips. ‘Soon,’ He realized, and while he knew he shouldn't have reached his this quickly, he allowed himself to relish in the luck of it all bucking his hips faster as he tried to keep his mind clear except for the feeling of his hand on his cock, forming a slight O as his hips sped up every more. His breathing became short, slightly nasally as his breath caught in his throat over and over, faster and in time with his hips until finally, finally, his release came, a stream of cum shooting up his stomach nearly to his chest and a muffled cry muffled by his lips sealed tightly shut. His high of the organism hit and reflexively the man balanced up to his tip toes as if chasing the body high physically. Emmrich stayed up in that hazy place for a pleasant few moments, squeezing his head when it began to fade, just to extend the time, if only for a few more seconds.

Then it began to drop, and the mage let himself drop with it, returning his feet flat on the floor and dropping his hand from his cock. The haze of post-organismic bliss settled in his bones, and while it was more pleasant when with someone else, Emmrich felt good, relaxed even. With one final intake of air, the man reopened his eyes, the warm water spraying his face had slowed to a mist, as the fade always provides what was needed. It was a well-done orgasm, a little on the fast side but considering how much better he felt, it was well worth it. And that was all the senior mage had thought about it, ready to enjoy the rest of his shower in peace and with a clear head but then he looked down and…

He was still hard.

Naturally, this confused Emmrich quite a bit as he looked down at his body’s reaction. For his age and his lifestyle, there shouldn’t be any reason why one orgasm wasn’t enough to sate him, he wasn’t some undignified 20-something-year-old after all. He was supposed to be a refined gentleman, one in control of all aspects of his body and mind, this type of thing should never be an issue, it should just be one and done. Yet, there he stood face to face with a rather angry-looking erection with a shiny head and heavy balls, begging to be touched. He realized it seemed to hurt over the fact he had not touched himself, throbbing almost in a pissed-off manner at him for being so selfish not to touch his cock.

Tentatively, he reached down and wrapped a hand around the head of his dick, a sensitive shudder sparked down his spine and another heady rush of lust warmed up his veins. ‘Just one more,’ He thought as he started his movements again, desperately trying to get his hips to stop twitching from oversensitivity but not being able to pull his hand away. It was a rush, it felt sloppy and so unlike Emmrich as he moved up and down, ruthless in his pleasure to himself. He should get another thing of shampoo to help with the friction, he truly should stop all of this and ignore his needy cock but it just felt too good. Another squeeze to the head made him moan out, this time unbashfully letting the sound echo.

He wondered if Oz were here, would he do the same after watching the mage do it to himself? Would the qunari grab his cock with those large hands and squeeze in all the places he had watched Emmrich do? How would the man talk to him, he wondered. A deep low growl as he stared directly into the senior Watcher’s eyes, with that damnable smirk meaning down at the older man with whispers of “There we go,”, “So incredible Emmrich,”, “Oh Professor, go on, give me all you got,”

“Come,”

With a borderline uncomfortable arch of his back, Emmrich did just that and this time it was a much more intense high of his orgasm to the point he nearly fell to his knees as the powerful shudder ran through his thighs. He felt his dick shoot cum out again, this time going high enough to hit himself in the chin much to his surprise. It only served to send a very oversensitive shock to his brain, making him have to close his eyes to attempt to balance himself lest he fall over. The last thing he needed was to hit his head and be found in the state he was in, in which the idea was more horrifying than even the elven gods. Were Oz truly here, he could imagine the qunari teasing him for such a thought, for worrying so much about appearance despite the fact Emmrich just came to the thought of him praising and commanding him.

The mage’s stomach dropped.

What the hell had he been thinking!? This was the exact thing he was trying to stop himself from doing, this was the line he didn’t want to cross and he did so without any thought. How could he degrade his fellow Mourn Watcher to be nothing but a voice for him to jerk off to? Oz deserved nothing but the best treatment, even in private moments only meant for Emmrich, there was no reason in any world the mage should be ok with what he had just done. The older man felt dirty, shame burned inside him as he felt all 30 of those years in his and the qunari’s age difference. He forced himself out from under the warm water into the chill of the bathhouse. The mage decided he deserved to march himself straight back to his room, shut himself in, and go straight to bed. No tea, no cleaning his body off. No, old creepy men like him deserved nothing but the bare minimum of treatment, especially after such a foolish act.

Emmrich nearly threw himself from the water, grabbing his towel and barely drying himself just enough to throw on his sleep pants, forgoing the shirt for right now and gathering his things in his arms. He didn’t even bother to keep them all folded or organized for once in his life, just gathering it all up in a messy pile before marching himself to the door. How could he ever be so shameless? Had his decorum left him the moment he was recruited? It must have, it was the only thing that made sense. Even with the weight of the world bearing down, there was no reason for him to lose such basic respect, especially for the leader of the group. Perhaps the mage should find an outlet, as much as that made him frown. He was never the biggest fan of casual affairs but maybe something like that would help to distract him from his less-than-pure thoughts of Oz. Yes, maybe something with one of the other factions, no one the two could potentially know. The Crow’s seemed to have a couple of qunari that he could find-

“Careful there Professor,”

The sudden voice caught him off guard as he looked up from the ground. He had been startled to see Oz, leaning against the side of the entrance of the bath chambers. Emmrich swallowed hard at the sight of that smirk. “I-I’m sorry?” He managed to ask, his throat was dry again. The qunari tilted his head, obviously trying to hide a laugh as his eyes crinkled with amusement. “There’s a puddle right there, don’t want you to slip,” He mused, the warrior nodding towards something on the ground. When the older man went to look, it was no bigger than a mug’s worth of water, at most he would have stepped in it and had a wet foot, there would have been no fear of slipping. Again, Emmrich swallowed. “Ah well, thank you, Rook, I shall be sure to be careful as I return to my room,” A rich chuckle rumbled out of the younger man’s chest as he took a few steps towards the senior mage who desperately wanted to take a few steps back but he feared that would look suspicious so he kept his ground, hoping he had mild curiosity face and not ‘I just came to the thought of you’ face. Suddenly, the qunari stood right in front of Emmrich and very obviously let his eyes go up and down the older man, he even dared to lick his lips. The necromancer’s stomach clenched.

“You didn’t finish your shower,” Oz said, a curious tint to his voice as he voiced his observation. Emmrich hoped the heat he felt in his cheeks could be explained away as heat from his bathing. “Yes, well I-” He stumbled over his words and choked on them as his throat stayed scratchy and dry. A laugh cut him off, it was beautiful to witness, the way the younger man threw his head back and how his eyes crinkled like he found the older mage’s stumbles just that endearing, the older man’s face flushed even more. “You’re still covered in dirt Emmrich, I think I know what’s going on here,” The qunari took another step closer, which forced the necromancer to tilt his head high up, craning to look at the much taller Mourn Watcher. There was that smirk still but it was softer, kinder as he looked down with such shiny eyes, one blinded and one bright green. Oh, How Emmrich wished to stare into those eyes for hours, to map their coloring so perfectly so he would never forget.

“You feel guilty,”

Instantly, the necromancer’s body tensed. He was sure his soul had left his body for a moment, becoming a spirit of prevention probably before returning to his body as a shudder ran through him. He didn’t know how Oz knew but the fact he did, spirits, he deserved nothing less than the worst treatment. The mage was prepared to be berated, to apologize profusely, pack his things up, and leave. He could be out by the end of the day, send recommendations for someone in his place as he punished himself to a life of isolation for his prevented and-

“You don’t have to worry, Harding and I are fine. You can take your time,”

That… confused Emmrich more than anything as his panic passed.

“I… Sorry?”

“You probably feel guilty taking up the bath chambers, it’s alright. You were here first, Harding and I will wait our turns. You deserve a proper clean like the rest of us,”

Oh sweet death, this man.

The senior Mourn Watcher cleared his throat, trying to bite down on the panic he had just been having so he could speak again. He knew he should fess up, be honest with Oz, and prepare himself for the consequences of his thoughts but he couldn’t with the way those big eyes stared down at him. Giving a weak nod he tightened his hold on the stuff in his arms. “Oh yes, well I don’t want to be selfish,” His voice was weak and the laugh he tried to force was so raspy but Oz didn’t seem to notice as he waved his hand and shook his head. “Nonsense, we all deserve some pampering. Take your time Emmrich,” Gods, his smile was so since, so kind. Were it any time, the older man would just melt under it but now he felt flush, guilt still biting at his ankles. “Thank you, Rook, I appreciate it,” He said with a bow, trying desperately to keep his eyes from the warrior’s long legs. Why the man insisted on wearing such exposing armor was beyond him, he must have been doing it on purpose, there wasn’t any way he didn’t have any idea what he was doing to his fellow Mourn Watcher, or the rest of the team for that matter.

“Of course,” Emmrich looked back up to see a genuine smile looking down at him, eyes warm with fondness. That made the mage’s cheeks heat the most. He turned back around and returned to the waterfall, hoping Oz would return to the rest of the Lighthouse with no comment.

He should have known better.

“Oh Professor?” The older Mourn Watcher bit down on his tongue as he turned his head to look at the qunari. That smirk was back and his eyes were dark. “If you ever need help getting some of those hard-to-reach places, I’m always available,” Again, again, Emmrich choked as he watched the other giving his body the once over before spinning on his heels and walking away, a pep to his step and whistling some tune the older man didn’t recognize. The man coughed on his dry throat, leaning against the cool walls to attempt to calm his overheated skin and racing thoughts. Oh, Oz knew, maybe not exactly but he knew something was up, and now Emmrich was at his mercy, completely unsure of where this would lead next.

He was so screwed.

Who knows if I'll finish this series hence why I'm only posting it on tumblr for the time being but I do have the rest planned out at least which I don't have as much detailed planning for my Rookanis fics which is why those slowed down AND I haven't been taking my meds like I should so that def is also an issue (I'm back on them, remember to take ur meds please)

Any way, Danke Schon for reading and I hope your days are full that good good shit -<3 Skunch

Edit: Here's the Ao3 link if that's more your style

37 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 16 days ago

Text

Might've Had Your Fill, But You Feel it Still

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Emmrich x Rook, Emmrook, Emmrich x Trans! Male Rook, Emmrich x Mourn Watch Rook

Word Count: 6141

Summary: A good ole drgaon fight ends up with Emmrich making a miscalculation and Oz stepping in to save him. What Emmrich does in response is go home and shove a dildo in his ass to deal with all the building tension because what else is a man to do?

This is time 3

A good ole drgaon fight ends up with Emmrich making a miscalculation and Oz stepping in to save him. What Emmrich does in response is go home and shove a dildo in his ass to deal with all the building tension because what else is a man to do?

Title: Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man

NSFW Tags: Masturbation with dildo

Rivain was stunning, not what Emmrich was used to, per se, the beaches, the clear blue water, the wildlife. It was a wonderful bioregion and the senior mage was so curious as to the magic that lay around in pockets on the beach. When this was all over, he would have to take a class here to study, to show the differences in death magic other regions had to offer. He had even started making sure that every time Rook took him to the beachside to make a list of areas he loved to explore with students. Oz had fondly chuckled when Emmrich pulled a small notebook out from a hidden pocket in his jacket. He had hoped the pink of his ears didn’t show. And if he bent down a little further with his ass out a little more than normal well, who is to say?

This time Oz, Taash, and Emmrich were on he coast to fight a dragon. The mage wasn’t very pleased to be the one being brought along, but when the Rivaini mentioned it was weak to poisons, he offered his expertise. Taash had scoffed at him, because of course they did, while the other qunari smiled, thanking him for the offer and asking the two to get ready for the mission. So now the group found themselves face to face with a very angry dragon, Kataranda, who had let out such a serious roar the older Mourn Watchers’ ears were still ringing even as she took flight to attack them.

The fight was rough, electrified water and Oz was constantly getting himself caught in it much to his team's distress. “Rook! You gotta know better by now!” Taash yelled out with a bit of exasperation in their voice. From where he stood, Emmrich saw them roll their eyes much to his annoyance. “I promise I’m not trying to get caught in the water,” The warrior rolled out from the puddle he was standing in, a litany of ows muttered under his breath. Emmrich summoned a spirit to provide the qunari with a healing potion which got him a ‘Thanks Emmrich!’ in response much to his delight. He saw a smirk form on the man’s face as he began to run around the field again, trying to stay on the sandy parts just above the water. “You know Taash,” Emmrich could already tell there was going to be some flirtious drawl from the way his voice changed, the way his eyes definitely darkened even amidst the battlefield. “I always knew there was a-” He cut himself off with a giggle which earned him a confused grunt from the other qunari, who had just thrown a rather large boulder at the dragon flying around. It took a few moments for the Mourn Wach warrior to get his words straightened out past the chuckles. “I always knew there was a spark in between us,” Rook let out the loudest laugh yet when he finally managed to get the words out, and while all Taash responded was with an annoyed grunt, a glance told Emmrich that there was a blush on their cheeks. The anger he had felt even took him by surprise, making him bite down hard on his tongue, which he sliced into it with sharp canine.

They continued to fight more, hitting the beast with everything and anything they could, it had to have been at least 30 minutes of trying to get her to ware down. The necromancer threw spells, one right after the other at the terrifying beast. It grabbed her attention a couple of times, her sole focus being targeted at the necromancer, but if anything, he took it in stride. Maybe preening under the way the qunari would look over to watch him move. Rook seemed to be having an excellent time, despite everything, if the delighted smile on the warrior was any indication. They would most definitely have to have a conversation about appropriate reactions to dangers, even the “cool” ones.

Now the mage could easily admit that he was a bit slower than the others when it came to combat. Nothing that was so noticeable he would be causing any issues to the team, but it was enough for him to catch on, especially when it came to the 20-year-old Taash and the 23-year-old Oz. The two qunari were spry after all, fresh into their youth and with the 30 years Emmrich had on them, there was inevitably going to be some difference in their fight abilities. And while it usually didn’t affect him whatsoever, the senior necromancer couldn’t deny the way he felt just a touch behind the other two, especially as he rolled around to dodge the sparks of electric breath coming at them. It affected him much quicker than the other two and that was how the older man found himself winded for just a few moments after a particular ruthless round of sparks being thrown at him. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated when he should take a moment to try to catch his breath and realized a fast ball of sparks was heading straight his way with nowhere for him to jump to avoid it. He readied himself to take the hit, steeling his body when he heard what could only be described as a roar.

But this wasn’t Taash as it so often was. No, this was Oz, charging towards the mage with such unweilding speed and before he knew it, large hands wrapped around Emmrich’s shoulders and he was brought flush against the other Mourn Watcher’s body. His back to the man’s chest, an arm secured around the front of his chest in a tight grip and… Sweet Maker their hips were flush against each other, the older man’s ass straight against the younger man’s crotch. They didn’t stay like that for long, not even more than a few seconds, but it felt as if Emmrich had cast a time slow spell, he could feel the shape of the other man’s bulge so unbelievably well against his rear. The damnable qunari and his insistence on wearing the skimpiest clothes imaginable. Oh, how the older man wondered what would happen were he to push back, to grind against Rook in the most filthy of ways.

Oz pulled away from Emmrich and the mage found himself having to stifle a whine in his throat when he did so. How utterly embarrassing! They were still in a damn fight with a dragon for spirit’s sake! The qunari stepped in front of the other man, head tilted to the side with his weapons back in his hands. “Alright there Emm?” He asked, tone low and somehow cutting through the flapping wings of the Kataranda. The mage swallowed or tried to, his throat was of course, dry, uncomfortable. “Fine,” He croaked out, hands tightening on his staff out of embarrassment for his inability to speak. There was a tint in the other man’s eyes, a questioning sort of look but seeing as they had far more pressing issues at hand it seemed to be ignored, a quick nod of affirmation before Rook turned back to the dragon, axe now high in the air as he ran towards the beast, scream echoing out in the cove they were fighting in.

They finished the fight, collected their treasure, and headed to the Hall of Valor to collect on their free drinks. Well, Oz and Taash did. Emmrich decided he was far too exhausted from the fight, wanting nothing more than to have a change from his clothes and probably head to bed. The other Mourn Watcher was upset to see the man go, but was very understanding, brushing a hand across the man’s cheekbone. ‘Checking for a bruise,’ he said with a wink, one of those winks, the one that made Emmrich’s heart beat just a little harder in his chest. The other qunari dragged him away, talking about needing a drink right now as Rook threw his head back in laughter, promising to get ‘sloshed’.

On the walk back to the Lighthouse, Emmrich didn’t think about it. Upon returning home, he didn’t linger on the thought that popped in his head. As he went to his room, he allowed a small idea of the whole thing to sit in his head. As he changed into his night shirt and pants, he wondered what exactly Oz used to pack with, it felt very realistic against him. When he climbed into bed, he could feel his cock start to want to fill out at the thought of whatever it was, hard and ready to ram into poor ole Emmrich. But the second his head hit his pillow, sleep enveloped his body and the necromancer fell into a surprisingly deep sleep.

Emmrich woke up an unknown amount of time later, head groggy from what he determined was not enough sleep. He heard Manfred above him on the balcony, the necromancer trusted he was being good enough to not be checked on so he went to stand. He planned to get up and dress into something more appropriate, get some tea to help lull him back to sleep, as in the fade time might not work the same, but he could tell it had to be late. His head ached a little, his stomach quesy from not eating dinner and what seemed like a lot of salt still stuck in his mouth from the coast. Footsteps from above told him that Manfred was preoccupied with something on the balcony and, he put his faith in the wisp that he still wasn’t doing anything too disruptive. He slipped out of bed, reaching over to the basin of water he had on hand to splash some water to his face to help ease the pain behind his eyes. It did help, the cool water running down his face seemed to take some of his grogginess away, as well as when he opened his eyes, his vision had cleared. The mirror that stood in front of the basin showed rumpled looking Emmrich, mussed up from sleep, and the leftover pomade, mustache turned up in ways it shouldn’t have been, bulged in his pants that strained against his loose sleep pants.

Wait… what?

When the necromancer looked down, he saw that yes indeed, he was hard in his pants, filled out with pre-cum even leaking through his pants. A blush came over him as a hand came up to smack himself in the face and bury itself into it. Of course he was affected by the stunt Oz had pulled earlier, and of course, sleep didn’t deter his body from the feeling. Annoyance clawed at him as a groan came out, echoing through the room. He heard a curious hiss from above him. “I’m fine, Manfred, please stay up there,” He called out, not wanting to be seen by anyone in the state he was in. He listened for footsteps coming down the stairs, but they never came, much to his relief.

This wasn’t supposed to happen again. It should have been enough, sticking his fingers in his ass, cumming twice and so hard that his dick ached days afterwards. He wasn’t supposed to have these ideas in his head anymore, why was his brain working so hard against him? Reluctanly, Emmrich turned back to his bed, prepared to climb in and sleep the rest of the night plus his horny thoughts away but something caught his eyes before he did. A box, hidden in his shelf. A box he’d brought from home, a ‘just in case’ he always kept close when he went on extended trips. A bit to his lip and he approached it.

It wasn’t anything too crazy, just where he kept his sex toys for personal and… relational use. Not that he had used it for anything like that for a few years, it had only been for himself in that time since. Sure he had some casual affairs here and there but nothing that ever warranted further care into sex beyond a romp in the sheets (or gardens). Everything he knew in the box, he knew well, some of the toys he’d been carrying for years, taking extra care of them to extend their use. One of the items was a phallus he had made for a old relationship where they wanted to fuck him and ever the gentlemen, Emmrich purchased a strap and a dildo as a gift to them. The rest of their time together, their sex revolved around that thing and Emmrich loved it. He was almost sad to see it go when he and that particular partner broke it off, but they were kind enough to let him keep it since he found more use out of it. It had been and still was his favorite toy to ride when the itch arose. And he felt that itch in his bones again.

“Manfred!” Rapid steps came down the stairs and Emmrich made sure to keep his back turned as to not let him see the state he was in. “Why don’t you go trim the vines on the outside of the Lighthouse? I know you do have fun doing so,” A happy hiss came and clatter of bones rapidly heading for the door. “Close the door please!” Emmrich called out, which the wisp followed the order with a loud slam of the doors shutting back together. The mage let out a sigh, taking his shirt then pants off and this time neatly folded them aside (the wrinkles from his previous times had been far too annoying to get out, he knew better now).

‘It is inevitable, I would think about this,’ Emmrich reasoned to himself. ‘Oz pressed against me in such a way, I could not not think about it. He must know what he’s doing,” That felt bad to think, leaving the salt in his mouth to sour. He couldn’t blame Rook, the young man had no direct influence on his dirty, old mind beyond being the center of his attention. Yes, while everything the qunari did had an air of flirtation around it, it wasn’t any sort of welcome to this. He knew this time he had to keep his thoughts from his fellow Mourn Watcher. Be it a past fling or nothing even, if he were going to do this he absolutely could not think about Oz.

So Emmrich reached down for the box, careful opening it as if the clattering sound would attract attention at this hour and dug around quietly until he found his prize. He undid the strap, seeing as there was no need for it now and pulled it out completely. A rush of arousal going through him at the mere sight of the toy. The last time he remembered using it was a few months before being recruited by Rook, alone in his dark apartment letting out loud moans and groans since Manfred hadn’t been home. That was going to be an issue, Emmrich knew he became very vocal when using this particular dick but seeing as he was very much not alone, there was no way he could allow those nosies out. Thankfully, he found one of his clean gloves and decided it was more than good enough to use as a gag. (He knew it worked, another thing he had used for past encounters.)

The older man was grateful he picked some of the honey oil, this would needed seeing as the toy was a little over 7 inches and beyond the fingers he had played with, he hadn’t done anything else with his hole since. It was going to be a long stretch and while he knew he should use his fingers to at least prep himself, the blood in his cock disagreed and he was inclined to follow. Sexual pleasure dumbed down even the smartest of men, he embarrassingly mused to himself. He arranged himself on his bed, partially on his lower back with one arm holding himself up with the other free, covered the toy in the oil and with his legs out in a way that allowed for easy access to himself. He swallowed hard, the sound deafening in his very quiet room, the distant creaks and cracks of the fade the only other noises.

He, at least, gave himself the courtesy of putting oil around his rim, biting down deep on his lip to stifle the sounds before reaching for the glove to shove in his mouth. The vaguest hint of honey was on it. A moan came from his chest and thankfully, the glove muffled it quite well so it was only a sound in his ears and nothing else. Anticipation shuddered through the senior necromancer, a warm feeling settling in his stomach. He reached for the toy to the side of him, still covered in a thick layer of oil and angled it to his hole. The man passed it back and forth a couple of times across his ring of tight muscle, a teasing motion that made his thighs shake and groans build behind the glove. He bit down on the leather as a particular pass up made the head slip into his asshole, making his back arch reflexily. Even just that was big, much bigger than the bony fingers had been when he had fingered himself, and warmer too. Emmrich was sure when he bought the toy that it was a material that retained heat, for his and his partner’s pleasure. It was warm, sturdy and he wanted so much more.

“Well go one professor, what are you waiting for?”

Spit caught in the man’s throat and he choked slightly, not enough to start coughing but enough that the toy slipped from him, which in turn made the necromancer whine out. This wasn't supposed to go this way. He shook his head, as if he could physically shake Oz’s voice from the inner depths of his brain. Ok, so he needed to focus on something, anything other than the imaginary voice of Rook in his ears, whispering, breathing, moaning. A harder shake of his head.

Emmrich had more than enough experiences to pull from, there was absolutely no need for the qunari to be the source of his pleasure. With a nod of affirmation (to no one) the man settled back into his previous position, legs finding a more comfortable position and toy reangled for his hole. He let the head slip in again, moaning into the glove at the feeling once more starting to fill him. There was a bit of giddiness he felt as he slowly, but surely began to sink it in deeper. He closed his eyes and pictured his apartment back home, on his bed with a previous partner looming over him.

They were an elf, a rather large one at that, that would meet up with Emmrich to exchange pleasure. It was nothing very serious and they both approached it with the idea that all it was was fun. They had the responsibilities of being a new professor, and Emmrich had been pouring most of his attention between his professor duties and Manfred’s teachings. ‘Something to let us relax from our lives,’ They had said when they approached Emmrich for such a situation. Sexual frustration led to a yes from the necromancer, and for a few months that’s what the two did. They were happy to use the strap and toy the older man already had, and Emmrich was more than happy to be on the receiving end. By the end of their time together, they were very, very trained in giving pleasure with it.

There was one particular time on the man’s mind as he settled a little more on his back, toy unmoving as he adjusted to the inch he had slid in. It had been a particularly rough day with students, his shoulders were practically up to his ears with tension when the two of them had met up. They had even pointed it out to him and when he snapped, a quick apology and explanation came with burning ears. He still remembers the way their eyes darkened, how they slid up next to him and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I think I know what you need, Volkarin,” A pinch came to his ass and while he did flinch, a moan as had also come from his mouth. A rapid nod and a laugh, then the two were off to his apartment.

It was a blur in between, Emmrich did remember their mouths meeting, tongues fight, clothes being thrown off but when he came back to his mind, he found himself on his back on his bed, legs up as the elf stuck their face down, assaulting his rim with their tongue in an expert fashion. The necromancer had been so free with his noises, they had echoed throughout his modest apartment and the returning groans he got only made him louder. He loved being appreciated like this by his partner, where their sounds mixed with his. It was wonderful. The elf had slipped three fingers in together, they were always ruthless when they gave pleasure, pushing Emmrich to go, go, go, and it had just been what the man needed at the time.

Now too, if he was to be honest with himself (but being honest would confront some feelings he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, especially when it came to Oz). Thanks to the old man’s horny thoughts, he pushed the toy in further, three inches all at once which made his back arch and a much louder groan to be muffled by the glove. He felt the vibration of it in his teeth and the deep rumble it caused in his lungs. Emmrich thought back to the way they would lean down over him when they’d thrust in with the toy, practically looming over him with his legs hiked up on their hips, feeling the muscle they had. Another inch slid in, the toy widened the closer he got to the base and he could feel that stretch in his hole, pausing his movements for a minute to reach down and feel the ring stretched around it. Another muffled moan came from him as his hole twitched at the feeling of his cold fingers gently gliding across himself. The honey oil’s warmth contrasted just so compared to his cold fingertips. He couldn’t get enough of the sensation. He needed more.

He pushed in the last two inches, the fake balls hitting right on his sensitive rim.

Maker save him, this was divinity.

He was so, so full. Fingers didn’t do justice to the delicious stretch of something so long and wide. Something so filling, what Emmrich wouldn’t give for someone to be attached to the toy, giving him this pleasure. He shut his eyes, trying desperately to reach for the memory he had been focusing on of the elf, their eyes on him as his back arched out and a moan echoed through his apartment again. They never talked much, but their grunts of exertion and own sweet moans were a pleasurable memory so the man focused on those, desperately trying to pull them to the forefront of his mind. Their panting in his ears, their little ‘Ahs!’ with every thrust the necromancer would meet back, that sound of flesh on flesh smacking together as their hips picked up.

“We should bother the mage,”

Emmrich completely and utterly froze.

“Emmrich, Taash and no way, we’re wasted!”

It was Taash and Oz, both of whose words slurred together, and they were right outside his door. The door, he realized, he had not locked. And the qunari were talking about coming into his room, while he was in this position.

His heart beat loud in his chest.

“You want to bother him,” Taash’s voice was flat as well but their words tumbled together.

“You do too but we want to bother him in very different ways. Let’s just go back downstairs,” Oz had a giggle in his voice, as if this was the funniest situation he could be in. Emmrich begged silently that the Rivani would agree.

“Yeah but it would be funny,”

“He’s probably asleep, Taash, c’mon let’s play some Wicked Grace, Varric taught me all his tricks, maybe we can even do the strip version,” Emmrich could practically hear the wink he knew the man gave.

There was a long pause as the necromancer strained to hear their footsteps walk away. For a moment he thought they weren’t going to, and waiting with teeth digging into his bottom lips for the doors to bust open and the two drunk qunari to come tumbling in.��What would Oz do, if he saw him with a dick in his ass, glove in his mouth, presenting it all to the world? Thankfully though, with some drunken persuasion, the two walked away, Oz’s loud voice carrying down the stairs and away. The mage gave an audible sigh, it being muffled by the glove of course. He thought for a moment of stopping but as the thought came to him, his hole clenched around the dick and he swore out at the feeling deep within him. It would be a waste to stop now, not only of energy, but also of that honey oil he had used.

He tried to close his eyes to regather his fantasy, but he still found himself on semi-high alert and couldn’t relax enough to get the image. Deciding that was done for, he simply focused on the feeling of the toy in him. How full it made him feel and the warmth of the oil inside him. Again, he reached down and gripped the base, swallowing as best he could against the glove before starting to move. The way his walls reacted sent sparks across his skin as he started with a slow pace, just to get himself used to the sensations and still be able to somewhat control his nosies, the glove would only do so much after all. His impatience was beginning to win out, though as he picked up his speed, relishing in the feeling as he found his hips begin to move in time with the thrusts of the toy.

“Doesn’t that feel so good professor? Having my cock in your ass, feeling that stretch filling you out? Sluts like you need always need something for your holes, don’t you?” It was Oz’s voice, a low, deep grumble in his ear, and god Emmrich wished more than anything it was real. This wasn’t as bad, he was so close anyway, this wouldn’t be like that last time, he wasn’t fantasizing the whole time so this one didn’t count. Whatever he needed to tell himself. His pace began to pick up. “Oh Emm, so pathetic and just for me to see. Isn’t that right? Who else would get to see you like this?” Though the glove was still stuffed in the man’s mouth, the necromancer shook his head and tried to say ‘No one, just you, just you Rook!’, all that was heard was the high pitched ‘Rook’ as his back arch when cum shot from his cock and across his thigh. Disbelief hit him as he looked down at the mess he made, the older Mourn Watcher hadn’t even realized how close he had been and the particular harsh thrust against his prostate probably didn’t help.

Yet even with his orgasm, the man’s cock remained hard with a mix of pre-cum and actual cum smeared over his head. He watched it give an angry twitch. “Well would you look at that, whorish lil Professor Volkarin is still hard,” A whimpered lodged in Emmrich’s throat as shame burned in his stomach, of course his nasty old mind knew exactly what to provide himself with. With his eyes closed he could so easily imagine the feeling of the qunari looming over him, watching closely as the older Mourn Watcher let his body fall to his back with a thump to the bed. He snaked his other hand that had been holding himself up to wrap around his cock, a pitiful cry graoned into the glove as ovestimulating sparks danced across his skin. A deep rumbling laugh echoed through his head. “Aw, is it too much for yo, Emm? We both know it isn’t, we both know you can’t get enough of it, this feeling that sets fire in your veins,”

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ The older man’s brain chanted, hand speeding on his dick despite the parts of his body screaming to stop, or at least slow down. His lower back ached, his shoulders creaked from where they were bunched and his hole truly stretched wide with the toy still stuffed in him, but somehow all those things just made everything that much better. Pain simply intensified the pleasure. The hand that had been gripping the end of the dick in his his had slowed over the past few minutes as focus shifted to Emmrich’s cock but he deciedely didn’t want his full ass to be so neglected so he started the pace back up. He was expecting to have to take his time, the last two times were just a coincidence for cumming so quickly one right after the other, the senior necromacer was just too old for it to happen again.

“Oh Emmrich, we both know that’s isn’t true, just watch this,”

“Come.”

The man felt his balls and cock twitch as he let out a cry just barely muffled by the glove as his back arched nearly into a C and more cum coated himself and his bed. The orgasmic high was long, staying there for far longer than he should have been able to, his body growing warm and dizzy with the overwhelming feeling. He squeezed his sensitive cock head a few times just to feel those overtimulating senstatiosn of heat through his veins before finally he pulled his hand from his cock and stop his movements of the toy, letting it sit halfway out of his hole. The muscles clenched greedily which in turned cae the toy to slip out a few more inches, making him give a sad moan of lose but before his body could try to suck the dick back in, he pulled it out the rest of the way to avoid himself going another round. Two was enough for tonight.

It took Emmrich a few minutes of slow breathing to finally remove the glove from his mouth, throwing it to the side as he took in gulps of full air now that his mouth wasn’t obstructed. His jaw ached from how it was pushed past its limits for the last however long and his throat burned with dryness. He tried to cough it better, hoping it just needed some spit to sooth itself but of course, it barely helped. Were he not careful, there would be a rasp to his voice tomorrow and while the team would probably assume sickness, he didn’t want to take any chances, he would have to go make himself some tea. He looked down at the mess he had made, a sigh being pushed out of his nose as he sat up to clean himself off.

An hour later, Emmrich was leaving his room, careful with closing the door as he assumed the rest of the Lighthouse main inhabitants were probably asleep. His mind was a bit of a mess, not only from the shame of once again getting off to this imaginary Oz but also the burn in his ass becoming rather distracting. If Rook were to take him on the missions tomorrow, he’d feel every step, every attack move, everything. Pay back he guessed for his inappropriate thoughts of their illustrious leader. A frustrated sigh bubbled out as he began to descend the stairs to head to the kitchen. He was not expecting a voice to speak up when he made it to the final step.

“Oh, hey professor,” Of course, it was Oz, and of course, Emmrich looked over to where the qunari was. And of course, he was draped across the couch with his jacket thrown aside so he was just in the Mourn Watch pants with a dopey smile on his face. From the way his grin was and the off look of the man’s eyes as well as the flush to his face, Emmrich deduced he was drunk. He also noticed Taash, thrown across one of the other chairs, snoring loudly away. Emmrich’s nose wrinkled at the image which made the other Mourn Watcher laugh. “Sorry if we woke you up earlier, Taash is hard to corral when they're drunk,” Rook’s smile was easy, he wasn’t mad about it, probably just found it amusing. The mage shook his head, giving his easy smile, or what he hoped to be one. “No need to worry, I was already falling asleep when you two came by, nothing would have waked me after that dragon fight,” The lie felt bitter in his mouth but anything was better than the truth. He’d rather said he was in his room juggling 12 of his books while reciting Orlisan poetry than anything near the truth. “That’s fair, it was intense wasn’t it?” Oz mused, the qunari sitting up from where he was laid out, stretching a bit. Emmrich tried desperately not to watch the muscles strain and move. “I’ll have this ache in my neck for a couple days, I think,” The qunari joked, earning a chuckle from Emmrich.

Figuring, it was the end of the conversation, the mage started to make his way to the door, hoping the warrior wouldn’t notice his slight limp as he walked away. An awkward clearing of the other man’s throat made the older man pause for a moment. “Oh Emmrich, one last thing if you are amlicapable,” How quick the senior mage turned on his heel to look at Oz. “Whatever you need, Rook, I’m happy to provide,” He didn’t miss the once-over the qunari gave him. “Anything I need huh?” It was a tease once again that Emmrich didn’t get to linger on as the other man started to talk again. “I just wanted to apologize for grabbing you in the fight the way I did, I just sort of panicked. I probably shouldn’t have done that, especially because uh, my packer pressed against you the way it did,” Oh, if the Maker existed, now would be the moment the mage would have prayed for lighting to strike him to a crisp. He knew his smile had to be uncomfortable, especially with the way he watched Oz’s cheeks turn dark. “Oh Oz, I promise you are fine, you saved me. Consider any awkwardness forgotten,” Espically when the true awkwardness was the effect it had on Emmrich as he ended up frantically shoving a dick in his ass but he wasn’t going to say anything about that. Rook’s smile relaxed as a soft laugh came from him. “Thank you Emm, I’m just glad I didn’t have my actual packer, I feel like that would have been much worse,” The mage hummed in confusion and curiosity, it had a questioning tint to it which made the other man laugh, a hand coming up to brush the back of his neck. In all he time since being recruited, Emmrich had never seen Oz this… awkward. “I couldn’t find it this morning so I just went with some socks I found, pretty sure they’re dirty too,” His laugh was light and his smile shy.

Emmrich, however, felt his entire face flush red. “O-oh,” He managed to get out, swallow behind the rapidly forming lump in his throat. The other, probably too drunk to notice, just shrugged and flopped back down on the couch. “Yeah, again, sorry about that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Eyes looked over at him, a heat behind them that only made the necromancer go even more red. “Unless that’s what you want to happen again,” Shock the mage as he stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, at the qunari who didn’t even seem to realize the implication of what he said as his eyes closed and he just fell asleep. Snores already came from his mouth and Emmrich took it as his opportunity to escape, turning around and scrambling back to his room.

He threw himself on his newly changed sheets and hid under the covers he had just put out, having to sit with the knowledge that in all technicalities, he’d come because of a pair of dirty socks.

Perhaps this was all starting to get out of hand.

I FINALLY MET EMMRICH WITH OZ IMAGE THE SCREENSHOTS THAT'LL FINALLY MAKE SENSE IN THE FIC

i'm very tired but you know what, the old man yaoi grind rests for no one so I'll have another red bull and answer my calling

Me rapidly typing "Must make that old man blush and stick things in his ass"

Please, enjoy your morning/noon/night and know that somewhere out there, someone is writing old man smut -<3 Skunch

27 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 6 days ago

Text

Oz and Emmrich, Emmrich and Oz

I FINALLY DID IT IN GAME THEY ARE GAY AND I AM GAY AND WE'RE ALL SOME TYPE OF GAY FOR LOOKING AT THIS (I'm kidding please don't get mad)

youtube

I have a youtube video of the scene and the date scene that happens after if anyone's interested, I made it so I can fall asleep to it lmao, I also plan to make a huge meme edit video of Oz funny moments and the romance parts in the future but I have a lot of grand ideas that never happen so lmao

23 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 11 days ago

Text

I got this scene this morning (at 2am my time, I was delirious) and to tell you all this is the exact moment Emmrich is like oh no o h n o

I can’t not jork it to this man

27 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 5 days ago

Text

Gonna Fuck My Way Through College

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Emmrich x Rook, Emmrook, Emmrich x Trans! Male Rook, Emmrich x Mourn Watch Rook

Word Count: 8601

This is time 6

Emmrich catches a glimpse of something surprising while at the Necropolis with Davrin and Oz. It forced him to go back to the Lighthouse and imagine bending over the qunari across his desk and fucking him rough and hard, Thank the gods he locked his door this time! That'll stop any curious minds in need of his services, right?

Title: Take a Slice by Glass Animals

NSFW Tags: Age difference, Slut/Whore insults during sex

so sorry its so long

This was already so out of hand, Emmrich knew that. It was all his fault, completely and utterly his own doing unto himself, there was no one to be mad at but his dirty old self. Now though, it was just getting worse, especially because one way or another Oz had to know something. He was dressing so…

No, truly this was just how the man dressed, letting every and any inch of skin show just close enough to inappropriate without actually crossing the line but it was almost too much for the older mage to handle. The Lords of Fortune armor, the Crow open chest set, the other Lords set, some modified armor that Emmrich swore the man removed the top set on purpose and what he would easily argue was worst of all was the damn Antaam bindings the man wore. It left so little to the imagination, and with the binding ropes up the arms and what could only be described as stripes of fabric covering his lowering half and everything else just left exposed it was almost too much for the senior necromancer.

Somehow, in the dark of the Necropolis it just made everything in that particular outfit worse, nearly too much to handle for poor professor Volkarin. It was hard to make out certain details sometimes, and in fights the man swore up and down that it simply left the younger man completely exposed. There was no way he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, that would be impractical but sometimes, sometimes he swore nothing was covering up the mans ass and cunt. At this point, he truly couldn’t even deny he was looking as he would have tried a few months prior, begging every which way that he would never be so crass, would never stoop to that low of a level.

Now though, he had lost any semblance of control over that part of him, his raging attraction to the qunari. The man could simply walk into the room and Emmrich’s heart would start to pound in his chest, his face would start to flush, and most of the time, if he could, he’d have to excuse himself. Ever since that day in the Hall of Valor, when the older Mourn Watcher indulged himself in public without much of a care, he had little care anymore about stopping his indulgences. How could he? Oz was just so… Oz. He was a whirlwind of beauty, strength, sexuality that Emmrich was caught in and no matter what he tried to convince himself of, he just couldn’t stop.

When he, Oz, and Davrin made their way to the Necropolis, the Mourn Watchers had received a missive from Myrina and Vorgoth for aid, the older man swore it would be his last trip ever. The qunari had chosen to wear his bindings that day, and somehow, someway, the ropes seemed tighter and the skirt seemed to have even less fabric. It was shorter, and the large ass that the younger man had, just stuck out underneath it. Emmrich didn’t even realize until then that the skeletal scars Rook had were against his pelvis too, marking out those bones with such artful precision. When the qunari went to go talk to the leaders of the Mourn Watch, Davrin commented to the older man to the effect of “Oz’s eyes are up there, you know?” Earning a stutter and a huff from Emmrich before he marched off to go deal with some whisps he saw that needed some aid, as the Grey Wardens laugh echoed throughout the hall.

Something was going to have to break, Emmrich thought to himself as he worked to help free some wisps that had gotten themselves trapped. Be it him jumping Oz, him getting caught in his less than pure actions and getting sent home or maybe, just maybe, the two could indulge… together. Of course, that was what the necromancer wanted more than anything, he yearned to trace over that scars etched in the qunari’s skin, to run his tongue along the muscles Rook had gained since the two of them meet, to feel the tickle of the more grown out beard the younger man started and to thread his fingers through his longer hair, give it a good tug to hear what sounds the young man would make and-

“We’re heading out, Emm, ready to go?”

By now, the older man was semi good at hiding his desire to jump out of his skin every time the other man would startle him, simply clearing his throat, giving the wisps one last look to make sure they were alright and turning to look at Oz with the best smile he could give. “Of course, pardon me. I needed to help some of these little ones out,” He answered, earning a smile from the qunari. Emmrich puffed himself up a little under the attention. What could Davring say to that, hmm? “Ugh, so adorable,” The younger man said back with a wistful light airy feel to his voice. Emmrich didn’t try to clear up if he was talking about the wisps or him, allowing himself to live in a bit of the fantasy as it were.

The three headed into the Necropolis, running into a few undead along the way but nothing they all couldn’t handle. It seemed to be a rather easy trot in the halls, Davrin did accuse him of not doing his laundry (So what if Manfred wanted to help? Who was the necromancer to deny the wisp some learning experience) which he stachly denied. If his cheeks heated up at the chuckle Oz gave the two of them, well, that was for him to know. The qunari turned around quickly, throwing an arm over the Grey Warden’s shoulder and jostling him a little, something the mage caught on that the younger Watcher did to Davrin and Taash quite a lot, almost like it was a warrior thing.

“C’mon Davrin, you’re telling me if you could teach Assan to do your laundry, you wouldn’t use that to your benefit?” Rook teased, a finger coming up to poke the elf in the cheekbone. The man’s eyes rolled but his smile remained easy and a deep laugh came from his chest. Emmrich tried not to look at where they were touching. “Assan has talons, how is he going to fold anything without ripping them?” Davrin retorts, a playful jab of his elbow to the larger man’s stomach, but it didn’t knock him off. “Oh that’s no problem, aren’t most of your shirts ripped down the middle anyway?” Oz questioned, running a finger down the valley in between the large elf’s pecs. For once, the dalish elf’s cheeks went a deep red as he laughed again, this one much more shy. Emmrich totally didn’t watch the way the younger man’s finger had moved, where he was touching. “That’s pretty rich coming from you, I’m guessing all your shirts got ripped too?” The elf poked him back, right in the same spot the qunari had just run his fingers down, which made Rook laugh as he finally pulled away from Davrin. Emmrich totally didn’t let his shoulders drop in relief when he did.

He stepped away, giving a spin to the other two before placing his hands on his hips, a challenging smile to his face. “I don’t wear shirts to avoid tears in the first place, I’m being very smart,” He reasoned, a very knowing smirk on his face. Was he arching his back on purpose? Did he need to cock his hip out like that? Why was he biting his lower lip? The Dalish elf shook his head as he started to walk again, on his way to pass Oz, he paused, eyes half lidded with an equally teasing smile on his lips. “If that’s what you and,” He nodded back to Emmrich, who frowned ready to speak up but the elf kept going. “Emmrich needs to tell yourselves, I guess I can go along with it,” And with that, he kept walking. The necromancer felt his cheeks burn, his shoulders shot to his ears as he burned with embarrassment from the accusation hidden under the words of the Grey Warden. Any words he had sputtered out though, as when he looked to Rook, a very dark, sensual look was on the man’s face.

The two stood staring at each other for a minute, the older Mourn Watcher with his mouth foolishly open a gap and the younger one’s dark stare burning into his skin. Then, he did a very deliberate, very obvious once over of the older man, taking extra time to stare at the hips, his long legs and then his hands, tilting his head as he looked at them before those eyes darted back up to look into the mage’s eyes. Emmrich heard his gasp before he could even think to stop it. Their eyes lingered for but a second. “Hey! Are y’all done or can we get to moving?” Davrin’s voice echoed through the hall and a part of Emmrich wanted to shout back, to stomp his feet and tell to man to ‘Please fuck off!!’ but fo course he didn’t, he only huffed in response. A dark rich chuckle came from Oz.

“Well professor, shall we?”

Oh sweet death just take him, here and now.

Now, Emmrich had figured there was something about Oz and the… professor thing. The imaginary Oz haunting his daydreams made that quite clear with every purr of the word whispered into his ear. Those words of “Well would you look at that, whorish lil professor Volkarin is still hard,” and “Doesn’t that feel so good professor? Having my cock in your ass, feeling that stretch filling you out?” had echoed in his mind ever since he heard them. Filthy words that in reality the necromancer wanted Oz to say, not words that had been said. But for him to react by nearly dropping to his knees and… and…

How in the hell was he hard just from that?!

If he were able, he’d let out the loudest frustrated yell he could manage, but with a need to avoid attention from the other two, he just tried to desperately seem as if everything was great, nothing awful was going on.

What was he to do, not with just this situation, this he could blame on the adrenaline, especially as they ran straight into a despair spirit as they walked through the Necropolis, other spirits coming to join the fight. But what was Emmrich to do over this entire situation? He flip flopped in between telling and not, hiding the dirty secret and wanting to tell Oz everything if just to clear his guilty conscience. It felt too late though, he’d been thinking about Oz while masturbating for what? Months? How would that conversation possibly go? He felt as though there was no sending him back to the Mourn Watch now, he was too important to the team and especially for the combat dynamic they all finally understood, and bringing someone else in would just throw everything off. Plus he thinks he’d lose his job as a professor, somehow, and even if he managed to keep it, he’d step away himself. Maybe go into complete isolation as punishment, just him and Manfred sequestered to his apartment, never to leave again, so he can stew in his shame.

Truthfully, the necromancer just wasn’t sure what to do so he made a note to himself that the moment they returned to the Lighthouse he would lock himself in his room and sit down to think what he could do to dig himself from this mess he created for himself. Dirty old, foolish idiot of a mage, he could at least do that. Why he hadn’t yet was beyond himself, he was usually more smart with his decisions than this. He needed to do it quick though, especially as when he turned to look over at Oz he was taken off guard seeing as the man was bent over, his hammer going straight through some poor spirit’s remains but…

His ass and cunt were showing.

As quick as he saw it, Emmrich's eyes snapped away. There was no way, there was no way that was what he just saw. Oz was risky with what he wore, he wore the shorts shorts and the man’s chest was usually showing for the whole world to bask in, at minimum he always had something covering his genitals. Maybe he just imagined it, maybe the necromancer was so far gone he was seeing things he wanted to be true, dirty dirty old man. It was the one explanation that made sense, there was no way the qunari was going completely nude. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man bent over again and yes, that was his bare ass and pussy, just out for anyone to see. Or maybe just for Emmrich to see, did anyone else look at the man’s bent over body as much as he did? Did Rook realize that? He tried, he did, but he had to let his eyes linger, then seeing as the man was bent over for longer this time around. Spindally black hair rest around the qunari’s holes, his asshole was pucker and tight and his cunt was-

Was he wet?

Emmrich forced himself to look away, he could feel the way his cheeks exploded with intense, overwhelming heat and he desperately tried to focus his mind on the fight they were still in the middle of. Stop thinking about it. A spirit took a swipe at him, with a flourish of his staff, he pushed it away. Stop thinking about it. He let out a shout of warning to Davrin who narrowly avoided an ice shard from the despair demon. Stop thinking about it. There was a shout of his name, Oz waving for a potion which he just narrowly managed to throw before having to jump back as the despair demon, now targeting the mage, went to attack. Stop thinking about it. He narrowly avoided the ice beam directed towards him, slipping behind a pillar to catch his breath in desperate huffs filling his lungs. For the love of the Maker STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!

Oh, who was he kidding? Of course he was thinking about it. How he wanted to swipe a finger through that wet cunt, to be able to slide his fingers in smooth and straight to the knuckle in one fell swoop. He would efficiently be able to, with the way that hole had been soaked, glistening in the dark light of the Necropolis. Would Oz beg for him to touch him? “Please professor, I need it so bad,” he’d whisper up at him as the qunari bent over to look over his shoulder with wide eyes and a pouting expression, begging for the man to touch him. Well, professor Volkarin never left a student wanting so of course he would do as requested of him. He’d be slow, teasing as he let a finger linger down, rubbing the warrior’s asshole just to hear him whine as he passed it. He’d just tease at the man’s wet lips, the top of a finger just a whisper of a touch to watch the younger man go wild. Head thrown back with his hips desperately trying to slip the finger in further. “Oh professor, I’ll beg for you if you want. Please, please give me what I need, Professor Volkarin! I’m so empty, my needy cunt is-”

“Emmrich? You good?”

A rather undignified sound slipped out as the mage turned on his heel to see the Grey Warden behind him, looking up at him with a very suspicious look. The older man laughed but choked on the spit in his throat, which he brought his hand up to cover. Also to cover the red in his cheeks. “Ah, yes, yes. Apologies, just a bit exhausted from that fight is all,” He hoped the pull of his sash to cover his reaction wasn’t obvious. The elf didn’t show any sign of knowing, but that look in his eyes didn’t leave even as he turned away muttering a “whatever you say” as he did so. When the mage swallowed, he could hear it loud in his ears. He stepped to follow the dalish elf, both walking towards the qunari who pulled his axe from the despair demon’s corpse. Had Emmrich been so out of it as to miss the last half of the fight?

“Professor! Glad you’re ok, when the damn spirit isolated us, I was worried for a moment there,” Oz’s tone was a bit worried and something about it made the older Mourn Watcher’s heart give a tight squeeze, so tight he had to clear his throat as his breath caught in his lungs. “Yes, I’m fine. Glad you two are ok as well,” Emmrich replied, looking anywhere but the other Watcher. There was no way he could look the man in the eye, not after such a thought derailing the way it did. He needed to return to the Lighthouse, he needed to get away from Rook. “Actually,” His voice cracked embarrassingly enough, he cleared his throat. “I am a bit winded to be honest. If you’re amicable, I think I should switch out with someone and return to rest for a bit,” He forced himself to glance at Oz, just to get a gauge of his reaction, and the brief half a second he looked, there was a frown on the man’s face. Emmrich squeezed his eyes tight, trying to ignore the guilt he felt crawling up his throat. This was all his fault, all of this, everything up to this point was his indulgence and now he couldn’t even handle being around the other man?

This truly was completely out of hand.

“If that’s what you need, Emm, we can just head back home,” Oz remarked in a soft voice, his footsteps were coming close to the necromancer, who gave a panicked step away with a frantic shake of his head. “No!” He cleared his throat and tried for a laugh, it sounded strained in his ears. “No, you still have things to do here and I’d hate to change the plans just because I do not feel good,“ With considerable effort, the mage looked up at the qunari, biting the inside of his cheek at the eyes looking down at him with such concern, such care. It only made the pit in his stomach deepen. “Please Oz, I will be fine, I just need a rest,” The way the younger man looked down at him, his frown was deeper and there was something else in his eyes. Emmrich just hoped he wouldn’t look down, he wouldn’t do his up and down of the necromancer as Emmrich knew where he was strained under his sash must be at least noticeable. The other Mourner Watcher sighed as he nodded, taking a step away. “If that’s what you want to do professor, I’ll get Bellara in. You go ahead and head on back,” With a grateful bow and a quietly muttered ‘Thank you’ the man immediately set out, not bothering to linger longer than he needed to. Especially under the eyes of the warrior.

By the time Emmrich got back to the Lighthouse, just narrowly missing Bellara, he was raging with a hazy head of sexual arousal. His vision was blurred, his limbs felt loose and his dick was angry as it twitched in his pants almost like it didn’t understand why he wasn’t touching himself. He cursed at his body as he made his way to his room, doing his best to remain careful with his staff, but with his clothes he had little care as he threw them every which way from him. His jacket lay on the ground, sash on top of it with his vest sitting to the side of them. He didn’t bother to remove his shirt nor pants all the way, he didn’t have time. One quick look up to confirm Manfred was not in the room, which to the mage’s luck he was not, and marched over to his desk, a flick of his wrist to lock his door as he did so.

Frustration seeped through him as he sat down at his desk, fighting with his pants to undo their buttons with mumbled expletives. He felt ridiculous, how could he not? This… obsession was so debilitating that he had to leave to come back to his room to jerk off? Unacceptable, disrespectful, immature! This was not Professor Volkarin of the Mourn Watch, this was dirty Emmrich Volkarin, the young dumb side of himself he thought he had gotten rid of all those years ago. Hadn’t he gotten his fill in his 20s? And fine, he could potentially concede that he hadn’t gotten all his sexual needs out, fine whatever, but why were they all so focused on Oz? The mage had a variety of partners over the years, humans, dwarves, elves, and 2 qunaris in his time, but no one, no one had ever had such an effect on him. No, the young man wasn’t a desire demon, but he had some sort of magical hold over the older man, what it was he just didn’t know.

His cock bobbed from his pants as he finally managed to get them down far enough. He let out a sigh, soft and slightly stifled to avoid attention. The head was red, it twitched with desire, he watched as a bead of pre-cum that had formed dripped down the side. It followed the curve of one of the veins that trailed up his dick’s side, it throbbed as he muffled a groan watching it. What would Oz think of this? He hated that thought, he was thinking it far too much, but sweet death, he wanted to know so bad. Why wasn’t he sicken by the thought anymore but if anything, his cock seemed more eager as his brain followed it instead. “It’s nice professor, long slim and oh so pretty. What would I say, were I to see you here at your desk with it out? Would I beg, would I ask to touch?” It shouldn't have been, but the imagery voice being in his ear was like a comfort, a way to semi-safely indulge in his dirty thoughts, what he wouldn’t give to have the real Rook instead.

He took himself in his hand, not bothering to remove his glove, wanting the extra feeling it would provide as he stroked down. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his noises in, not surprised to taste the vaguest bit of blood as he did so. “Imagine if we were in your office at the Necropolis, me on my knees begging for your cock professor, don’t you want that so bad?” He shouldn’t want that, that was crossing a risky line, not just in such a public place but with the threat of someone walking in and assuming Oz was a student. Emmrich’s dick gave a twitch at the idea and he watched even more pre-cum form at his head, heavy and thick as it fell to his desk, forming a small puddle. If asked, would the qunari lick it up? If demanded, would he or would he fight back, that sharp tongue cutting words towards the older man. Would the necromancer have to force him down, grab him by the nape and make him lick the puddle up? That seemed likely, something told the older man the younger would not yield so easily.

A thrill ran down his spine as the thought fueled into his fantasy, the image of a cocky Rook, sauntering into his office, maybe demanding the man’s help on some sort of assignment. Emmrich would request he ask nicely, it was expected of younger MournWatchers to the senior staff, but naturally the qunari would scoff at him, roll his eyes in a way that would make the mage’s shoulders tense slightly. “That’s rich, I don’t give out respect to anyone, professor, they have to earn it,” The words felt so real as he tipped his head back, closing his eyes to attempt to immerse himself into the fantasy. “Do my merits and work for the Watchers over many years not earn me respect?” He’d ask, matching that same snippy energy of the younger man even though it was so unlike him to do so. Something about Oz would just bring it out in him. “I don’t care what you’ve done for them, what have you done for me, professor?~” A tease, because of course the warrior would tease. Besides a handful of times, Emmrich has never seen the man not have something smart to say. The qunari would step up to his desk, hands on his hips and cocked out just slightly, a tease whether the younger man knew it or not. Emmrich would fight against himself not to look, maintain eye contact despite the desire to let his eyes roam over the body of the warrior. “I can do much for a young Watcher, but only those who hold me in a high esteem, maybe if you apologize and say you do, I can be of service,” It’s a challenge and if there is anything the mage knows of Oz, is that he never backs down from one. Oh the smirk that would form on his face, the way his lip would curl up and how he’d lean down to sneer.

“What makes you think you can put me in my place?”

Again, the real older man had to bite down on his cheek, anything to prevent the loud groan, desperately trying to crawl its way out, to let itself be known because how could it not? Perhaps the man doesn’t give his imagination enough credit, this was phenomenal.

He could imagine standing from his desk, the other man wouldn’t flinch but he’d catch the surprise in his eyes as he’d walk around the desk, reaching up to grab the hair of the younger man before forcing him to bend over the desk. The qunari would let out a growl, he’d fight against the hold, but Emmrich would have a far too good of a grip, he’d be able to do nothing but writhe against it. The glare the necromancer would get would be able to kill if it could. “You come into my office and question whether I can control an unruly student like you? You do understand I have been teaching for a long time, yes?” God, the words would flow so easily. Something about the qunari riles the mage up in ways he’d never experienced before, despite his rather numerous partners. Real time Emmrich stroked his cock to the beauty of the image he had in his mind, slow, as to savor what he could. “Just because you can bend me over doesn’t mean you’ve tamed me, professor? Did you think I’d be that easy?” Oz would threaten in a low, deep tone, eyes challenging the man to do more, and wisps willing, Emmrich would provide. “I think easy is exactly what you are,” He’d snap back, tightening his grip on the man’s hair and with a sharp tug back, earning a gasp from Rook, whose eyes would roll back and the slightest tears would form. “F-fuck you,” The qunari would say back, in a shaky, unsteady voice. He tried not to, but the real older man let out a laugh, quick to stifle it with his free hand. There was a tense moment where he wanted someone to knock on his door, to come barging in, but of course, no one came. He didn’t stop the movements on his dick, embarrassingly enough but he couldn’t help it, the silky movements now helped with excess pre-cum was just too good.

“Such a quick tongue on you, always ready for a quip yet all you can think to say is that? Prehaps you are truly as easy as they say,” Emmrich would let his free hand move down, teasing light touches along the man’s hips and ass, due to the man’s height it’d be up far as he would be drapped across the desk the way the senior mage would have him. There’d be a curt laugh, short and breathy from the younger man. “And you listen to what everyone says, professor Volkarin?” The necromancer would make sure his hand came down harsh against the man’s ass, basking in the surprised choked off gasp he’d get in returned. “It’s hard not to listen to all of the rumors around you, my dear student,” It was true, even before meeting Oz, he had known of the name, but not in the context he was thinking of here, but what was reality on this imagination of his? A rumbling laugh, one akin to a pur, would come from the qunari and real life Emmrich squeezed at his leaking head, getting more pre-cum to smear on his fingers as he slightly picked up his pace. He also gave a gentle squeeze to his aching balls, just to be kind to himself. “W-what is it these rumors say? Hmm?” Rook would be starting to falter, if just a little, with how his voice would shake and his eyes would start to go glossy, as they would look a little far off. The mage would give him another harsh slap to the other ass cheek, watching gleefully it bounce on impact. “As if you don’t know. Something tells me you are the one who started them. A whore like you would loved everyone to know just what it is you get up to,” He’d snap back, once again pulling on the man’s hair and making his back arch into a C as a litney of gasps and the slightest moan would come form his mouth. An evil smile formed on real Emmrich’s lips at the thought, tightening of his hand and his hips gave an aborted thrust forward.

No, he wanted to savour this, enjoy it.

“What m-makes you say t-that?” Oz would try to be smart still, of course he would, that’s just what the qunari was like, but oh he’d break under Professor Volkarin, Emmrich would make sure of that. “I know your type young Watcher, this need to boast to your friends about conquests, but unlike them I feel yours has truth to every word,” He’d emphasize his point with a sharp tug of the younger man’s pants watching the belt easily give away to let him pull them down to his thick thighs, just barely catching under his buttocks. Rook wouldn’t have underwear on, because that’s just how he is so his cunt, wet of course, would be ready out on display. The shocked gasp from the warrior would be so wonderful, echoing throughout his office like a music note. He’d bring his hand down for another smack, this time directly on the qunari’s pussy, oh the wet sound it would make, the moan he’d get from Oz as well as his own at the silky slick he’d get to feel. They should be quiet, they could get caught, but what did Emmrich care? “Look at this, wet and ready? I have a hand in your hair and have only spanked you twice and already like this? And you wanted to deny those rumors,” He’d taunt, watching as the man’s cunt would twitch and squeeze around nothing, with the qunari’s breathing picking up to be a heavy pant.

“As i-if you are u-unaffected,” Rook would snap back, freeing himself from the grip on his hair for only a moment to rub his wet cunt against the front of Emmrich’s pants where his cock would be straining hard, begging to be released, to sink into the soaked hole in front of him. The necromancer would tsk, would regrab the man’s hair before letting a series of smacks onto the exposed ass of the younger Mourn Watcher, high pitched cries coming out as he’d be merciless, he need to put the man in his place after all. “I am a man young Ingellvar, of course I am affected by a brat draped across my desk with a wet cunt begging for me to use it,” Emmrich would reason, watching with glee as the qunari’s head finally would fall forward, or as far as it could with his hand still tangled in the younger man’s hair. There would be a moment of him trying to catch his breath, fighting against the emotions his body so desperately would want to make while he would want to hide them. The senior mage wouldn’t allow it. Another series of smacks and this time, he’d manage to get a wail from the qunari which made real life Emmrich need to cover his mouth tighter at his moan in response to the imaginary sound, filling his ears and hips giving yet another twitch.

He could barely stop himself this time around.

“S-so, do the rum-ors match up to e-everything you’ve heard-d about me prof-essor? Am I-I that mu-ch of a w-whore?” Oz would ask, in between breathy moans and tense groans as he would begin to rub his cunt to the front of the older man’s pants, the necromancer would think of stopping him but how could he stop such work of art in motion, the mouthy qunari reduced to a pathetic mess over a few smacks to his cunt and the tease of Emmrich’s bulge, not even his full dick. Oh how he was excited to see how the man would react to that. “I believe there is something of those rumors that is wrong,” He’d explain, moving his hips to press against the young Mourn Watcher’s pussy in time to his weak thrusts back, the grin on his face turning dark as he got louder sounds from the other man, who’s body would start to arch on it’s own, letting him loosen his hold on the warrior’s hair. “W-what’s th-at?” Rook would ask, ever the curious one.

“To call you a whore does you a disserice, you are far more than that. I believe the word you need is slut,”

The qunari would sing beautifully as his back was bent even further, his pussy would spasm around nothing as a gush of slick would come out as his orgasm hit. With hungry eyes, Emmrich would watch, taking in the display of this young man as his own cock would give a finally twitch before spilling in his slacks. Real life Emmrich followed the same pattern, instead cumming over his hand and what he didn’t catch spilled to his desk. The shudder that would go through him at the site of it was strong, shaking the teeth in his skull from its power. He wished he could paint Oz’s cunt with it, watch is mix with his own slick, how would they taste together? Real Emmrich grabbed his still hard cock, sinking his teeth into his lower lips to hide his high whines from the overstimulation as he continued to rub his dick, letting the sparks of too much simulation flash behind his eyes. As he would watch Oz twitch from the aftermath of his orgasm he’d pull himself from his pants without any fanfair and press his cock head against the wet hole of the younger man still bent over his desk. Would the qunari let out a gasp? Would he moan and rub his cunt back against the older man despite his sensitivity? How would he react when Emmrich would grab his hips for leverage?

Something tells the older man that’s what would happen, he’d be too hungry for it and turn to look over his shoulder with sad, pleading eyes. “Please professor, please fuck my pussy! What more could you want?” The tease he is, he’d shake his ass in the other Watcher’s face, trying his best to tempt the older man into sliding his length in but Emmrich is rather good at giving what he gets so instead, he’d tease back rubbing his cock along the lips of the qunari’s cunt but never sliding in. Oh how the warrior would whine and cry as he would try to angle his hips to take the senior necromancer in. “Slut,” The mage would call him, watching as his eyes would roll back into his head as Rook would fall forward when Emmrich once again untangles his hand from the qunari’s hair, his face would press up against wood as there’d be no strength left to hold him up, all his energy put into still trying to get the older man’s dick inside. “Then fuck this slut!” He’d beg with a high note of moans echoing throughout, nearly crying with delirious pleasure. Emmrich would then grab his hips, pull his pussy away from his cock much to the wailing disappiontment of the warrior who’d be powerless to stop it. Then, the mage would lean in close, mouth to his ear as he’d give it a painful nip to the lobe. “You want me to fuck this sloppy hole? Oh Oz, you won’t demand that from me. You’re going to ask and ask with the respect a professor like me deserves, is that understood?” Another bite to the lobe to show the younger man there was no saying no to this ask, this was what he would have to do or else he’d be left unsatisfied, unhappy.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man Emmrich Volkarin,”

A hand would make sharp impact with the man’s ass for such a comment.

“You know what to call me, do it correctly,”

There’d be a lingering moment of silence, it’d be Rook contemplating the submission. How the older Mourn Watcher would love to hear his desperate thoughts, wondering how they would be muddled in the younger man’s brain as he fought against the craze of pleasure. To be sure his point was made, the necromancer would carefully swipe his finger through the man’s soaked folds, gathering the his slick, bringing it into his mouth, he desperately wanted to know the man’s taste. The warrior would mumble something that’d make Emmrich pause, finger still in his mouth before he’d slowly, sensually pull it from his lips under the watchful eye of the qunari. He’d stare down at him as he’d straighten up, hands returning to the hips and he’d squeeze.

“Oh please professor Volkarin, you’re so fucking smart and beautful, please show me how to get fucked good. I bet you know all about it, I see the way the other students look at you, begging for your cock. I want to know how to be fucked good and full, please show me professor, plea- Ah!”

There’d be no way the senior necromancer could ever say no. Even if the Lich Lords stood in front of him and demanded he step away, lest he lose his future of Lichdom and experience damnation, he wouldn’t be able to pull away. How could he be demanded to pulled away from the pillowy, pleasing cunt of this 23-year-old qunari, whose big eyes would glance back at him, mouth spilling pleases and begs to be filled, to be fucked by the older man. No, he wouldn’t be able to pull away, he’d willing let his Lichdom slip from his fingers as he’d finally flip in cock into the pleading man’s pussy. Real Emmrich let out a barely stifled moan at the thought, shoving his fist further in his mouth and pushing his jaw to an uncomfortable angle but he couldn’t stop the insistent up and down of his hand on his dick, the pleasure was just far too great. Sweet death, he wanted to know how the man would feel around his cock, desperately so. He’d be warm, he knew that. Oz seemed to run hot, he had too, considering the lack of clothes he wore and how he never seemed to be cold, so his core must just be burning fire. From what the older mage saw when the warrior had bent over earlier, he’d be soft too, tickles of hair would meet the senior Mourn Watcher’s smooth skin as he slid all the way home. Rook would want to be filled up, there was no stopping that mission once it would enter Emmrich’s head.

There would be no steady build up of a pace for this. No, Oz wouldn’t deserve such a thing and the necromancer would say as much. “Sluts aren’t given the luxury of slow. I bet you already had something filling your hole before you got here, maybe your fingers? Maybe another cock?” He’d pause once he was down where his balls pressed against the man’s wet cunt if only to hear the sounds of the qunari, the wailing he’d give at the older man’s ruthlessness. They would be caught, there would be no way they wouldn’t be from the sounds the younger man might make. He’d make them, Emmrich would be sure of that.

He’d make his pace brutal, mind empty besides the thrusting of his hips in and out of the qunari’s pussy. There’d be sounds spilling form the other man, mindless words and babbles of ‘Please more’ and ‘Yes professor, fuck my cunt,’ all through out his office. Perhaps he’d think about quietening Rook down, maybe he could shove something in his mouth to gag him, to muffle those sounds but no, he’d want to hear every glorious plea and beg coming from the younger man. He’d also like every passerby to listen to it, to hear Emmrich’s name on the well known whore’s lips singing out for everyone to listen to. It’d be the sweetest song ever sung. The rhythm of it would only slow down when the mage would deepen his thrusts, sure to grind into the man’s cunt as far in as he could go. Gods, the way Oz would squeeze around his cock when he did, trying to suck in and keep in as much of the older man as possible. The necromancer would linger there for just a long moment, just long enough where the other would think Emmrich was going to stay there before he’d pick up his fast pace again. Hopefully he’d earn wails in return for the pick up in pace, a new song for a new round.

Real Emmrich’s hips started to move on their own, fucking up into the fist he had created, smooth from the amount of pre-cum his fantasy made him make. It felt glorious, he knew he should stop, sweet wisps, he needed to stop but how could he? Nothing could take this away from him in this moment, absolutely nothing. His cock gave an angry twitch, his balls squeezed and his heart thumped heavy in his heart. He was close again, so damn close just another pump up, one more tighten fist around his head and-

“Professor, you there?”

Everything in Emmrich came to a screeching, nauseous halt as he heard a voice outside of his door.

Not just any voice of course, but the very man he was picturing bent over his office desk getting fucked to oblivion. Who had cursed him when he wasn’t looking, who was holding his soul in their hands to torture him so heavily that this had to be happening right now? “Are you alright, Emm?” Such sweet concern dripped from the queen’s voice, which only made the mage’s head spin more, looking down at himself in horror. What in the hell was he thinking?!? This, again, and stuck in this situation once more, only this time, Oz finally managed to interrupt him, and he knew the necromancer was in his room. Panic flooded the man’s veins as he shoved his dick rather painfully back into his pants, and scrambled to grab his sash, being as it was about the only thing he could think to cover himself with. He had no time to check in a mirror if his hair was mussed, how flushed his face was, how rumpled his shirt was, and just prayed to whoever was listening that he would just look sleep rumpled and not ‘I was just jerking off’ rumpled. With a quick not of his stash and a wince as it sat at the base of his still hard cock and opened the door to see the qunari standing their, a concerned look on his face that dropped a little when he saw the necromancer.

“Ah, sorry Emmrich, didn’t mean to wake you,” Oz’s voice was so soft, so caring it made the older Mourn Watcher’s stomach twist as he thought back to what he was just doing to that voice. He cleared his throat as best he could. “No, no. You are completely fine, Rook, I was only resting my eyes a little,” There was a tightening in his chest as he fumbled through the line, especially under the eyes of the warrior who still had that worried tint to them. “Are you feeling alright?” The qunari asked, head tilting to the side and eyes wandering his body, which in turn made Emmrich jump a little as he shuffled in place, hoping to knock the eyes away from going lower than his chest. “Yes, I was just-” Words caught in his throat as he found himself unsure what to say. He should just lie, he had done so in the past to the warrior when caught, but never had he been caught in the middle of this, pants uncomfortable against his straining erection with prayers that the man wouldn’t look down too far. And he had never had those eyes staring down at him, but he realized as he sat in a crisis over it that the man’s eyes had morphed. There wasn’t concern about anything but something much darker, threatening, predatory. Emmrich heard his swallow loud in his ears. “Well, I just wanted to inform you that we took care of the issue in the Necropolis,” Oz’s voice was sickly sweet, overtly innocent despite the look in the man’s half lidded eyes. Never had anyone made the older Mourn Watcher feel so naked under their gaze, he fought against his desire to cover himself up, he felt like that’d be the attention down to where he didn’t want it. Though it almost felt like it didn’t matter, like the qunari already knew but he didn’t seem to have looked down. Was the mage’s face that obvious? “Well, I suppose I should let you…” Rook trailed off for a moment, this time very deliberately taking his time to look the necromancer up and down, Emmrich fidgeted under the man’s gaze especially when his eyes landed to where his cock was straining and they lingered there. When they snapped back up, Emmrich startled a little.

“I should let you get back to whatever it is you were doing, professor~”

The older mage choked on his spit but the warrior didn’t even seem to notice as he swiftly turned on his heel and began to head out of the hall. The necromancer realized he had at some point hunched over a little with the grip on his door, a white-knuckled tension. Then, for whatever reason, the damn qunari bent over, seemingly picking something up and Emmrich saw it again. Wet cunt, showing asshole as the flimspy leather cloth suppose to being covering the younger man slide to the side to just reveal everything. Were he in his right mind, the older Mourn Watcher would have scrambled back into his room at even the hint of something so inappropriate but now…

How could he look away? This was what he wanted more than anything, this view was everything he had been desiring since meeting the damnable qunari, since that time in the bathhouse, since listing to all those rumors and shoving his fingers and a dildo up his ass, since seeing that damn Tythas and thinking of giving Oz just that much better of pleasure, since jerking his dick in the corner of the Hall of Valor and now, especially now. Emmrich was supposed to be better than this, he knew himself to be better than this but in the end, wasn’t he just a man? A man who hadn’t experienced the touch of someone in at least 2 years, since ending his last situation and switching his focus to Manfred and his work. Then there was this business with the gods, making him run high strung as it was and then to have such a beautiful predator as the leader of the group, teasing and tempting and oh sweet death he was looking at Emmrich with his ass in the air.

The bastard dared to wink.

“So sorry professor, clumsy hands,” His voice was low, it was sultry like a tease asking, begging the man to come closer, to do something.

But Emmrih found he couldn’t move, he felt stunned into place at this entire display, but it didn’t seem to matter much to the warrior who straightened up and headed back out again, whistling a tune as if everything was just fine.

For the necromancer though, everything was decidedly not fine.

He was quick to slam the door back close and turned, resting his back on the wood as his hips started to move on their own accord, back and forth a few times before he threw his head back, it slammed against the unforgiving door but he found he didn’t care as inside his slacks, his cock gave a pulse before his orgasm washed over him and cum filled the front of his pants. He scrambled to release his dick from its confides as the oversenitivity made more moans want to escape from his chest and he couldn’t help the sigh of relief he gave when the necromancer finally managed to free himself.

What in the ever loving fuck was that?

The eyes, the voice, the look over, the way he bent over, there was no way the qunari did any of that without some kind of intention. Some kind of invitation for the older man, but Emmrich couldn’t for the life of him believe that confidently. How does he know the others in the group weren’t getting this same overwhelming treatment? He noticed all their other interactions, but he wasn’t around Oz 24/7. He could be doing this to everyone else, and the mage just wouldn’t know. Plus, there was they wide gap in their ages. 30 years, 30 years of life in between the two and now, with his softening cock dripping cum down onto the floor and smeared across his pants he could feel every single one of those years. The qunari was 23, and here was the senior necromancer, cumming to the thought of him bent over his desk and being fucked within an inch of his life and seeing his actual wet cunt in real life by Emmrich, a 52-year-old man. It felt wrong, it felt dirty and it all just felt so confusing.

‘This was it,’ He finally decided, with his dick hanging loose, face flushed all the way down to his shoulders and ait desperately trying to fill his lungs. ‘I must talk with Oz, I have to. Come what may.’

He was so incredibly fucked, figurately, mentally and literally.

OMG WE'RE AT PART 6??? YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!!! Part 7 duh but GUYSSSSS it's gonna be delicious and so good I hope case I have been thinking about this since I started this fic in feb :D lets goooooo gamers also I'm getting the elucanis itch again so I wanna play my qunari romacne and write his angst and lucanis angst meddling to cure each other you get what I'm saying

-<3 Skunch

22 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 6 days ago

Text

I just finished fire and ice so do you all know what that means?

OZ AND EMMRICH AND EMMRICH AND OZ ARE ABOUT TO BE SO GAY OMFG IT ONLY TOOK ME 40 HOURS BUT IM HERE, HERE I AM THIS IS ME IM ABOUT TO BE AS GAY AS IM EXACTLY SUPOISE TO BE

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragonage veilguard #da: the veilguard #datv #dav rook #dragon age rook #rook #datv rook #veilguard rook #mourn watch rook #rook ingellvar #oz ingellvar

21 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 5 days ago

Text

Trying to write and have my friends yell at me to lock in

I wish to provide you all with the goods of part 6 so bad and it’s gonna be delicious and wonderful but I gotta write it 😭😭

25 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 8 days ago

Text

NSFW WARNING

Part 2 of Emmrich def had a professor thing and here’s evidence through my totally unbiased opinion based off my own fanfic 😁

I want an imaginary Oz 😡😡

20 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 8 days ago

Text

NFSW WARNING

Emmrich has a professor thing and here’s my totally unbiased evidence from my own fanfiction 😁

Imaginary Oz goes wild alright what can I say

20 notes · View notes

dragonagegayz · 8 days ago

Text

Baby, Don't You Know I Suffer

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Emmrich x Rook, Emmrook, Emmrich x Trans! Male Rook, Emmrich x Mourn Watch Rook

Word Count: 5,357

This is time 5

Smart man Emmrich believes burning off his energy will stop his impure Oz focused thoughts from controlling his life. Unfortunately for him, he didn't think about the fact of Oz being there, dressing in his inappropriate ways and getting hot and bothered in the fights himself.

All a man can do is find a corner to relieve himself! There was no other choice!

Title: Super Massive Blackhole (the Twilight baseball scene song if you know) by Muse

NSFW Tags: Masturbation, Semi-Public, Semi Sweat Kink (???)

The original intent of going to the Hall of Valor for Emmrich was to burn off all the extra energy he had to avoid indulging in his less than appropriate images of Oz. He had even asked if they could go, much to everyone else's surprise. Taash had, of course, laughed at him, which they were gently chided at by Rook who had given the senior necromancer one of those devastatingly charming smiles. ‘If that’s what you want, just let us get ready and we’ll all head out. Make it a group trip,’ He had said, turning on his heel to head to his room to change into his armor, which the rest of the team followed suit to their respective rooms. As Emmrich prepped himself, he thought he was a genius, such a smart man, as this way was going to fix this issue and everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

Well, that’s how it was supposed to go, what he was not expecting was the thoroughly exhausting experience of the Hall of Valor. After two rounds he found himself needing to call out. The added Rivaini heat and the muggy sea air made the fights far more taxing than the combat the older man had grown accustomed to. Once they finished their second fight, the man found himself very winded. As the group made their way back to Isabella, Emmrich be lined it for a seat as he tried to catch his breath after their mercenary fight. It had been so straining he hadn’t even realized the condition Oz was in, his skin was sweat slicked, panting like a dog, and this crazed look in his wide, excited eyes. He saw it now, sitting next to the rest of the team with the weight of their heavy eyes on the mage. The rest of the group was checking to see if he was alright when Oz came bounding over, a pep to his step, but still had the courtesy to give a concerned look to the mage. “I think you’ve had your fill professor, why not sit out the next couple of rounds and just watch?” Something about the way the younger man said that, the way his eyes became half lidded and almost teasing. It was too much for poor Emmrich. A part of the older man did want to argue, he wanted to show that he wasn’t going to let his damnable age ruin his ability to fight, but he couldn’t deny he was exhausted. With a defeated nod of his head, he set his staff aside and leaned further into his chair. “I suppose you are right, Rook, someone else may take my place on the team,”

A warm, deeply kind smile came from the qunari and the senior necromancer hoped the flush in his cheeks could hidden as exertion from the fight. Oz turned to the rest of the group sitting at the table, and through the corner of his eye Emmrich saw them all sitting with a sort of anticipation of who was to be chosen. A bile of jealousy came up his throat and he choked and coughed on it, shaking off any concerned looks. Why couldn’t he control his damn self anymore? “Well, I heard it’s gonna be Antaam next so, you feeling up to fight Lucanis?” Rook asked, holding his hand out to help the assassin stand from his chair, which the man gave his awkward grin in response, the faintest bit of pink on the tip of his nose. “Always,” He growled out, pulling his hand from the qunari quick as he could, Emmrich assumed from sweaty palms, an effect Oz seemed to have on anyone under this attention. An easy laugh came from the warrior.

“This is why I like you Lucanis, always ready for the good kill, and you do it with such flair and drama, so ruthless,” The flirtation under the words was dripping, only an idiot wouldn’t have been able to hear it (it even caught the attention of a couple patrons from different tables) and the poor Crow’s face exploded into a blush which earned a few laughs from the Veilguard. “Merida,” The man whispered under his breath as he ducked out and took his place by Taash. “You are not subtle, you know that?” He asked as he crossed his arms across his chest, slightly sunken in, probably to hide his embarrassment as best he could. Oz just shrugged. “No one has ever accused me of being subdued with my appreciation of the finer things in life, you and,” He gestured to the group, “All of you guys, are no different. No one seems to hate it? Unless…?” How quickly everyone in the group added their own ‘No!’s, some louder than others and Emmrich was very embarrassed to find himself the loudest of them. Another easy smile.

“Well then, glad that’s settled. Shall we kill some Antaam now?”

For all the time the crew had been in the Hall of Valor, Emmrich had never properly watched a match, usually in the thick of the fight or chatting with the Lords of Fortune necromancers and spirits, as they provided such a fascinating perspective. This time however, his body was still too tired to act so he simply made sure to get a good seat and take in the show. Had he known the consequences of such a decision, he probably would have excused himself to the Lighthouse. The sun was shining bright in the sky as Oz, Taash, and Lucanis made their way into the arena, the Mourn Watcher with his two-handed axe thrown over his shoulder as if the thing weighed nothing. Oh how Emmrich wanted to know if the man could lift him, throw the older man over his shoulder as if he were light as a feather. Ever one to bask in attention, the younger man waved to the crowd, giving a dramatic bow as the screams and yells for him grew loud. Then, oh, he looked directly at the necromancer, he must have purposely searched him out before he winked, big and dramatic for it to be seen by not only him but the whole crowd, which just set them off louder. Blood rushed through the older man’s ears, nearly deafening out the loud group of people around him from how fast it went. He needed to get a grip on himself, trying to do so through subtle breathing exercises from his years. He watched the group ready to fight the Antaam being released into the arena.

Oz, ever in his glory, was heavy with attacks, moving his weapons as if they were light sticks, rolling every which way with powerful kicks to the guts of the fools idiotic enough to try to get a close hit on the warrior. It was wildly impressive, Emmrich couldn’t deny that. The young man was talented at combat, no wonder he managed to stop an entire undead uprising, and why Varric chose him to become his second in command. He was like an animal, fighting with the savagery yet grace of a predator, crafted by nature to kill. His skeletal scars also followed the lines of his body so well, emphasizing the growing muscle there. Oz was just crafted so beautifully, how his birth parents must have looked ethereal as well, sculpted from gods maybe.

Try as he might, heat began to flare in the necromancer’s skin as he watched the qunari move. How could he not react? The man of his attention was covered in sweat, throwing Antaam around as if they weighed nothing and giving loud laughs that he swore were shaking the stadium with every note he belted out. He was so unapologetically himself and maker Emmrich couldn’t handle it. Why was this happening again? What was it that Rook did that made him act like this? After so many years of control, why was this young man becoming his undoing? Was there something in the Lighthouse causing this? Fear clutched at the older man’s heart for a brief, agonizingly long moment.

Could he be being targeted by a despair demon?

As quick as the thought came, he shook it away. There was no way. He was a senior mage in the Mourn Watch, a professor of death magical arts, who would have no clue he was being targeted by such a demon? There was no possible way. Right? “Holy hell! Look at Rook and Lucanis go!” Isabella’s voice broke through his thoughts and he found his eyes snapped down to see what was happening in the arena, anything to push away the horrible thoughts of something so insane, something so implausible. Right?!

In the fight he spotted the two, in combat side by side and working in tandem to take down their enemies. The warrior, talentfully throwing out moves expected of a Mourn Watch warrior, a specialty in necrosis which Lucanis was so easily able to bounce off of with his necrotic moves, ruthless against the Antaam now trying to flee the two fighters. Impressive felt minimal, it felt as if it couldn’t capture the true feature of the display going on. Artful felt more worthy, a dance of instincts and aggression, especially as the Crow and qunari worked so well together. Jealousy’s evil claws dug deeper in the mage’s skin again, making him bite down on his tongue as punishment.

“And with that, Rook’s team wins again! Let’s give our reigning champions applause, yeah?”

Thunderous clapping echoed through the hall as whistles and shouts of praise reigned down on the group in the arena. Oz, naturally, was basking under all the attention, sending kisses out, bowing and spinning around to show himself off. Taash and Lucanis were more reserved with their acceptance of the attention, the Rivaini giving a few waves and the Antivan’s arms staying strictly at his side, not even looking at the crowd, saying something to Rook. Emmrich watched as Oz’s mouth moved to respond before he accidentally knocked his weapon holstered to his side onto the ground. A laugh, because of course he laughed, echoed out from the qunari as he bent over and oh sweet whisps those shorts he was wearing barely covered anything. The crowd’s noises intensified as he bent over and the necromancer watched as Lucanis’ cheeks turned into a very noticeably bright red as the warrior had bent over right in front of him, quite nearly shoving his ass into the man’s personal space. More than anything Emmrich wished that was him, wished he could reach out and squeeze, swipe a finger through the folds he knew to be hidden there, use his tongue to-.

As he found himself doing often nowadays, Emmrich shook his head at his dirty thoughts with shame burning at his ears. This was too risky for one and for two, completely and utterly disgusting to think about in public. The privacy of his room or the bathhouse was one thing, but here? Now? What was he? A 20 something year old who can only think with his dick? He desperately needed to get a grip on himself lest he do something completely foolish in public like going to hide in a corner to touch himself. He’d like to think he had more self control than that, he wasn’t that crass, that far gone.

“Tell me, were we good or were we good?” The deep rumbling voice of said man broke the necromancer from the trance of his thoughts and he looked up to see Oz and the other two had returned from the arena. Emmrich hoped more than anything that the heat in his cheeks that he felt burning could be chalked up to the Rivaini sun beating down on them. Congratulations were passed around the group to the three, which seemingly got to the Crow considering the tints of red on his cheeks. At one point the qunari had thrown his arm around the man and brought him close, which only made the red on him go darker as the man’s eyes darted anywhere but to the warrior. Rook remained oblivious to the plight of the assassin as he babbled on about the fight, complete with sound effects and gestures, till Emmrich finally had to take pity on Lucanis as he spoke up. It had nothing to do with the stinging jealousy gnawing at his ribs as he watched the man be oh so close to what his brain demanded was his.

“Well, perhaps you should all take a seat and we celebrate with some dinner? I have heard that Rivaini food is some of the best,” He remarked, watching as the qunari’s eyes went wide at the mention of food, pulled himself from the short man and rushed to take a seat next to the senior Mourn Watcher. “Now you’re speaking my language, Harding, did you bring any of your-” Anything else the man said was completely lost to Emmrich as when the younger man sat down, he threw his arms up to rest on his head and oh whisps his smell. Oh, the poor necromancer’s entire body stiffened as that sweat, musky work out smell just hit his nose. Fragrant was the best way to describe it, a strong masculine smell probably brought on by the magic the man had used to help in his gender transition and did it do something to the mage. A barely repressed shudder inched its way through his spine, his head rushed around as he swore he could practically taste the salty dew radiating from the qunari. What were to happen if he leaned over, if he bit and sucked at the exposed skin of the younger man? How beautiful would he bruise under Emmrich? Would his taste linger on his tongue for days, always there when he spoke as a reminder of what he had done?

Then, the older man adjusted his seating, brushing a hand down to smooth his slacks when he very nearly let out a moan he caught at the very last minute. Oh no. There was no way, he could not be. Not here in front of everyone with Oz at his side and a table just barely able to cover himself up with unbecoming noises trying to fight their way out of his chest. What he hoped to be in a subtle way, the necromancer glanced down and instantly felt his face drain of color as he very noticeably bulged in his pants. His cock sat to the side, nearly angrily filled out. There was no possible way he could ignore this for their dinner and he only wondered what would happen were the younger man next to him to see. He absolutely could not see, that would surely send Emmrich into an early grave. For a pathetic moment he tried to cover himself with his sash that hung to his hips but no, that barely did the trick either and if anything he worried it would bring more attention to it. With a glance to the side to make sure Oz was not looking directly at him and a glance to who he in front of him, it was Lucanis whose eyes were trained on the qunari. Pink cheeks too, a part of the older man snarled. Quick as he could, Emmrich excused himself from the table, saying something about using the restroom, and with the help of his sash and coat, covered himself as best as he could as he stood and nearly sprinted away, but containing himself at a slow walk. He hoped his panic was at least semi-hidden as he headed down one of the many stairs, not caring much where he was going just as long as it wasn’t anywhere near Oz.

Luckily for the necromancer, most of the Lords had gone upstairs to watch the fight, as they usually did when Rook was in the arena. It was near vacant minus the merchant who seemed a few wine jugs deep and a straggler or two who also seemed to have found their own fill of alcohol. None of them paid mind to Emmrich so he did the same, hoping they were too drunk to notice the mage slinking about. He needed somewhere private, somewhere he could calm himself, get a damn grip on his mind and body before he could return to the table and try to eat dinner with Oz to his right, smelling and looking the way he did. This time when the shudder went through his body, he could do nothing to stop it nor the whisper of a moan which came out of his lips.

Sweet Maker, what in the hell was wrong with him?

He made his way to a hidden spot, one where he knew the bookshelves would move to the side to give him the moment of privacy as he tried to relax from the heat burning in his gut. Those breathing exercises he had once taught Bellara were going to be his ideal way of relaxing, ridding himself of this insatiable, shameful boner of his. Even just that thought made him give a despicable groan at himself. Where had the older man’s shame gone off to? Was Oz holding that too? Along with his dignity and control? Perhaps this was to the point where he had to say something, perhaps he had lost his head so much that there needed to be a change to this pathetic routine of his.

‘Yes’, he thought as he made his way to the book shelf, searching for that lever to move it to give himself a hidey hole. (Rook had found it much quicker than he did). After this, he would speak to Oz, damn the consequences weither he is kicked from the Veilguard or shamed in Nevarra for his sorry actions. Emmrich had to do something at least. With a ‘Ah!’ he found his prize, clicking down the lever and taking a small step back as the shelf moved to the side. One final glance around to make sure he wasn’t being watched or hadn’t been spotted before he stepped into the little area, back to the entrance and resting his head on the cool wood in an attempt to calm his blazing skin.

The Mourn Watcher took in a slow, deep breath counting to 4 slowly as he did so, letting the sea air fill his lungs. He held onto that breath for 4 as well, emptying his head of anything but the numbers as he felt his shoulders begin to relax down and his spine’s tension start to leave. Exhaling for 4 as well, he made sure to be slow and deliberate, keeping the breath as even as possible as he let out all his air. Another hold for 4, ignoring the slightest burn of his lungs for having no air to breathe but it worked to lessen that fire that had tried to start in his veins. There were a few cycles of this, in, hold, out, hold. It was a favored breathing technique of his, one he had taught to a lot of younger Watchers in his days at the lecture. It was a great grounding technique, one to keep the mind focused when easing any anxieties or refocusing the mind from whatever distraction one might be feeling.

Then, he allowed a hand to linger down, he just wanted to check, he told himself. It was a slow, deliberate trace down his body, just to ease himself into it, he reasoned. He waited till he held his breath and let his finger swipe across where his cock had been sitting hard, just to reassure himself that it was over and so he could return to dinner. There was a moment where he thought he had succeeded in his venture to calm down, that he believed he was presentable enough to return with no one being none the wiser but…

Maker, whisps, death; why was he still hard?!

A frustrated huff went through his nose as he pressed further into the wood, his breathing losing its pattern as shame welled up inside of him. What was he to do? He couldn’t return to the group in this condition and he could be here for hours, trying hundreds of different calming techniques only to find none of them worked. What could poor Emmrich do?

“Why do all that professor, when you know what you want?”

A gasp came from his lips. No, please no! In the sanctuary of his room was one thing, in the bath chambers hidden in the Lighthouse was another, but to have this imaginary Oz accosting him in a public place? This was far too out of hand. “Come now Emm, don’t be so cruel. Why not live a little? Don’t you miss those days of your young 20s, the thrill of getting caught with a hand on your cock? A little less pathetic in those days though, then it was somebody else, at least,” A whine escaped his lips as he shook his head, breathing picking up as he desperately tried to keep some semblance on control despite the way his dick twitched where it was stuck in his slacks. A glance down and a grimace overcame him as he noticed the slightest beginning of a pre-cum stain wanting to form. “I mean, what would you rather do Emmrich? Go back with a raging hard on, ready for everyone to see because everyone will see it,” That would be arguably the most terrible thing, embarrassing wouldn’t even begin to cover his feelings were he foolish enough to do that. “Or would you rather take care of it right here, no one’s around, and if you don’t take too long, no one will come snooping,” The voice chuckled lowly, a deep rumble in the older man’s ear. “Or maybe Oz will come searching, maybe he’ll see you with your hand on your cock and watch as you bring yourself to pleasure. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He definitely shouldn’t, he knows he absolutely should not but…

There was no time for second thoughts as the necromancer fought with his clothes, pushing whatever he needed to down or to the side so he could release himself to avoid making a bigger mess of his clothes. His cock bobbed out when he finally let it free and without so much as a groan, wrapped his hand around it to squeeze at his head. A much more violent shudder than he was expecting went through his body as a quiet, but loudest of his sounds yet, moan came from his mouth. “Tsk, tsk Emmrich, you know better than to let your sounds out. At the Lighthouse you have much more control, but here you let yourself be so free?” Those words were spoken so cruelly, they felt as if they were spat at the senior mage, and if that didn’t make him fight against even more noises as he shook his head trying to defend his dirty self. “No? I don’t believe you, I think you want to be caught,” The imaginary Rook purred, the words vibrating through Emmrich’s ears as if it was the real qunari, bent down over him mumbling into his ears. His hand started to move on his cock. There was no slow pace as he usually did, no he was fast, ruthless against himself as his hand moved up and down his dick.

“You want him to find you, hunched over with your hand on your cock. You want him to bend over you and grab it with his much bigger hands, then treat you like the sleazy man you know you are,” The necromancer shoved his free fist in his mouth to cover the small noises he found himself making. He knew better than to let them out but fuck how could he control those when he couldn’t even control himself enough to not be rubbing his damn dick in some corner. At a particularly rough pull of his cock the older man winced, the pre-cum wasn’t providing the slick he needed to get away with this comfortably. “You know what would help you, professor?” Emmrich already knew he wasn’t going to like whatever this imaginary Oz came up with. “If I were here, I could bend over for you, I bet I got real worked up from that fight. I must just be dripping from that cunt of mine, that and the sweat? You could use my wet pussy to slick up your cock real good,” Much to the Mourn Watcher’s surprise (though at this point it shouldn’t have been) his hips gave a violent twitch and cum shot out, splattering across the wall on front of him as his brain fuel him with the image. His throat strangled out a moan as he tried to fight against the noise from echoing out into the world.

What he wouldn’t give to see that, the qunari bent over with those damnable shorts he was wearing, just pushed down far enough to show off his dripping cunt. How would he react if the older man dropped to his knees, bent him over further and just went to town? Once again, (this time not to his surprise) his cock gave a twitch at the thought. Like the pervert he was, Emmrich reached out for the cum he had smeared on the wall, taking what he could then rubbing it across his presistent dick. “You would love nothing more than to get your mouth on me, aren’t I right Emm?” A shameless nod of his head as he basked in the feeling of back and forth again, this time with a much smoother glide thanks to the white cum he had gathered. His hips jolted from the overstimulation of pleasure right after an orgasm but he didn’t care, the sparks only made it that much more delicious. “You think he’d scream out Emmrich? I know you want to hear those noises, unhindered and loud, just like Oz is,” Yes, yes of course he wants to hear the warrior’s sounds, out loud and filling his ears so he could memorize them, hoard them into his mind like a dragon for himself and only him. Gnawing jealousy nipped at his ankles but he ignored it, he didn’t have time to fight with it.

“Remeber how he complained about Tythas not making him cum, imagine how much better you can be for him. I bet you’d never leave his pussy alone, you’d stay there forever if he’d let you,” He’d never leave, to be able to bring pleasure to Rook, over and over and over would be a job he’d put everything into. If anyone deserved such pleasure it was the qunari, the leader of the Veilguard, soon to be destroyer of the gods. His hips jolted so violently he nearly fell from the way his pants trapped his thighs. His pace sped up, the slide so smooth as he fucked his fist with rapid thrusts.

It was too much, it wasn’t enough, Emmrich wasn’t even sure what he was feeling as the tension built in his groin, balls tightening as he crept closer and closer to the edge again. What he wouldn’t give to bury his face in the cunt of Oz right now, with a hand on his cock and the taste of the man on his tongue, musky, filling, thick in his mouth and it would linger for hours. Were he to lick his lips he would probably still taste the sweetness of the man, hours later maybe even at dinner with everyone else there, totally unaware of the fact that their beautiful, flirtatious leader had been eaten out by the senior necromancer. Oh he would be smug about it, how could he not be? The man everyone seemed to desire being his and his alone? Another jerk of his hips and Emmrich watched as another load painted the wall in front of him, wishing it was over the qunari’s cunt instead.

Were that the case he’d get down on his knees and lick it clean, it would be only the gentlemanly thing to do after all. Then, even if the poor warrior was begging for reprise, he’d bring the man over the edge, again and again. Emmrich would hold him down, no matter how the man squirmed and moaned that it was too much, he’d have to keep on giving, how could he not? (Of course, if Oz truly wanted him to stop, he would, but he had this feeling the man wouldn’t play like that) The senior mage’s dick twitched once more, even tho it was dropped down, it was evident he probably had one more in him. Which indulging that would be stupid, he was already pushing his luck with how long he had been gone, but one more couldn’t hurt, right?

It wouldn’t take long either way, the thought of Oz writhing in pleasure was enough to get him semi-hard though he doubted he could get fully hard again, not after those very sharp back to back orgasms. Plus he was far too sensitive to touch, he would have to attempt a hands free, spill free too seeing as he just shot his two loads against the damn wall. A very sharp flutter went through his muscles as the necromancer looked down at the mess he had made. He probably looked so obvious, hunched over the wall with his pants undone and his head pressed to it. Sweet death if the other Mourn Watcher were to walk in on this, what would he do? Would he smile that devastating grin, give the older man that once over he sure loves to give and… What would he say?

“What would I say, professor? Walking in on this mess you’ve made? Would I comment on your cock? Would I walk over and run a finger down your length and gather the cum you’ve smeared on it? Would I bring it to your mouth and make you suck it off, clean the wall you’ve dirty?” Another twitch of his hips as his perverted mind filled his brain with images of just that. The much larger man walking up behind him, making him watch as he drags a finger through the mess on his cock and the wall then bringing this much larger fingers up to his mouth and shoving them in. “Fuck Oz,” He whispered, quickly bringing his hand back up to muffle his sounds as his hips moved on their own again, his dick jerking again. It shouldn’t feel this good, why was this so good? Addicting, he concluded to himself. The thought of Oz, the way the man was, and just everything about him was addictive to the older man. He should feel shame, he knew, fantasizing over this 23-year-old man, his boss, a fellow Mourn Watcher, someone who could have been his student were he a mage. But what could he do? This feeling, this pleasure was unlike anything the man ever felt, and this was by himself, he couldn’t even imagine what being with the qunari could be like. Were he to tell though, he would lose that opportunity, he knew. Emmrich wasn’t going to give that potential up. He reached out and squeezed his cocks head.

His hips jerked on last time giving him a dry orgasm that had sparks exploding behind his eyelids and him needing to grip the wall to hold himself or else he would have slipped down to his knees. The moans he let out were barely muffled by the hand he had shoved in his mouth to silence them, the taste of salty cum and leather filled his mouth. Oh, how he wished it was the flavor of Rook instead, the musk and sweat he had smelled on the man earlier still fresh in his mind.

“Emmrich?”

For a very brief moment, the older man thought it was the imagined Rook in his mind, calling out for another that he absolutely could not give.

“You around here?”

He very quickly realized that it was indeed not him, this man calling out for him was all too real.

In a complete panic, the man drew his slacks up, shoving his still sensitive dick into them as he tried to fix himself, retying his sash as best he could with a cum covered hand. He looked around for something, anything to wipe his hand off of but found nothing and grimaced as all he could do was wipe it against the wall he had already made a mess on. There was no way anyone wouldn’t know what it was, he could only hope the populace was still up the stairs so he could at minimum get away without anyone seeing him, or anyone else not seeing him. With one last once over, the man stepped from his hiding place and looked around, catching Oz down another short set of stairs, looking around for Emmrich. The older man cleared his throat as he stepped out and to the other Mourn Watcher, trying to ignore the stickiness still on his hand. “Here Rook, my apologies I got distracted rummaging through their books,” The qunari smiled down at him, a chuckle on his lips. “Of course you were,” He teased and for once the mage hoped his blush was bright, covering what he assumed was already flushed cheeks.

The silence stretched between the two and Emmrich realized the other man was very deliberately staring him down. His eyes, one blinded, one white and green, stayed trained on the older man, almost like he was looking for something. There was no way he knew, right? Even if he did, there was no way he wouldn’t say anything. Any reasonable person would after all. Emmrich shifted uncomfortably, Is something the matter, Oz?” He questioned, trying to hide any nerves with more dramatic flair to his words. It took the other man a moment to respond, seemingly lost in his mind until his head shook and the grin on his face deepened and those eyes went half lidded. “Nothing professor, nothing at all. Shall we?” He gestured to the stairs and eager to run from his mess, nodded, taking the few steps in front of the qunari to head up. He may or may not have jumped when a large hand was placed on his lower back with gentle pressure, and when Emmrich looked over at the warrior, he only had an innocent smile on his face.

“After you,” He purred.

Oh, the necromancer was on the road to complete and utter degeneracy.

This was very hard to get thorugh but it is done! I'm gonna hopefully start working on the next part starting Saturday if my Lexapro can kick back into gear and make me feel good again lol

AO3 Link if you wanna show me some love over there <3 -Skunch

21 notes · View notes