at the request of @elkingwriter , I’m posting this drawing of my cat I made last year 🥰
Can I just say I love her so much and she’s like a sister to me🥹 she’s been there since day one guyssss😭😭🥺💕🥰💗
It may not have been long ago since I made this, but I think I’ve gotten better at realism since then, and could probably made something even better now🥰
mostly bc this drawing was the first time I’d done realism in months lol
Tags: explicit | sex | fingering | hand kink | teasing
Summary: You often find yourself turning to Emmrich for pleasant company and comfort, but after a taxing day you require more than a little conversation to help you unwind.
2.48k words (ao3 link)
A/n: Sorry HogLeg followers, this had to be done.
The dim corridor stretched before you, a sliver of light dancing across the stone floor, beckoning. All was quiet, not even Taash’s snores to mask your footfalls as you approached the door you knew all too well. Often had you found yourself drawn to this very spot, unable to articulate why you sought his comforting presence. You would watch him read or weave his magic, and he would allow it without complaint, only a wry smile upon his beautifully distinguished face.
And tonight, you were so very tired, body drawn so tight that the very mention of Gods or Venatori might send you spiralling into a pit of despair; a day spent slaughtering would do that to a person. So you lingered by that door, placed a palm upon the wood and sighed.
“Rook?”
The voice came from within and you jolted back, contemplating running back the way you came. Instead, the voice lured you further with promises of softly spoken words and the ghost of a touch upon your skin. This little game you played, this dance of desires, was as agonising as it was enticing. There was thrill in the chase, the longing. Your skin tingled before you even laid eyes upon him, and pushed open the door.
“I thought it was you,” Emmrich said. “I could sense your presence, dear.”
He stood by the fire, his back turned to you whilst absorbed in something you couldn't see. Even after hours of battle he remained pristine; freshly bathed, hair combed and clothes neat. You took tentative steps towards him, pulse already racing and stomach clenching with anticipation. His jewellery glinted by the light of the flame, and you saw that he was holding a book. Of course.
“What are you reading?” you asked, wishing that he would turn to you.
“A tedious tome, I'm afraid. Though it might very well prove useful, so unfortunately I must persevere.”
His fingers skimmed the page, dancing over the words as if conducting a symphony. Dexterous fingers that had occupied your thoughts for weeks. The scent of ink and old parchment filled your nostrils and you shivered, watching him splay the pages with erotic curiosity.
Emmrich finally turned to you with a friendly smile that quivered upon meeting your gaze.
“Are you quite alright?” he asked with a hint of concern.
No, you weren't. But there was little to be done about the hunger that clawed at your chest, night and day. “I'm fine,” you said instead.
His head tilted to one side to regard you, his hand stilled upon the page as you watched in rapt fascination. Those hands might have been able to unravel the tension knitting every muscle in your body, with little more than a curl of his fingers. Molten desire flooded your veins, burning your skin, and an ache settled low in your abdomen. No soft words and pleasant company would be enough for you tonight.
“I don't think you are…”
Emmrich snapped the book shut and placed it upon his chair, stalking towards you. He stopped only inches away and frowned, as if examining a specimen for its ailments. Your eyelids drooped to be so close, caught in the maelstrom of his presence. His lips, so tempting, parted.
“Oh.”
You blinked. “Hm?”
Emmrich smiled and brought a hand to your cheek, catching you unawares. Knuckles skimmed across your skin, a ring-clad finger resting below your chin.
“I can practically feel the warmth radiating from your skin, darling. Your pupils dilated, that nervous energy.” He chuckled. “If I didn't know better I would say you came here seeking…relief.”
“Would that be so unbelievable?” you asked, fingers daring to reach out, to pick at the buttons of his waistcoat.
“Perhaps. I thought you enjoyed our flirtations, but I admit I had no idea that you were serious—”
“I'm serious.”
Don't make me beg.
He took that half step forward to close the distance between you, his breath ghosting the skin of your cheek. Instinctively, your head lolled to expose your neck, exposing your vulnerability, a soft and shuddering sigh escaping your lips. The pulsing between your legs intensified as he took the cue without hesitation, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear before his lips found skin.
Emmrich kissed up the column of your neck almost languorously. A gentle flick of tongue at your pulse point had you whimpering for more. Your hands worked of their own accord, picking open the buttons you'd been idly toying with only moments before. Turning your face, his lips found yours instantly, a low hum of satisfaction working its way up his throat.
Yes, finally.
This was exactly what you needed. You felt frenzied, but Emmrich tempered your enthusiasm with a grip around your wrist, a well-placed thigh between your legs. He had you pinned against his desk—or had you dragged him here?—still intent on slowing your burning need to rid him of his clothes. No matter—he looked ravishing in them.
“We have hours, dear. Slow down, hm?” he whispered in your ear, sending yet another wave of desire rippling through your torso, dislodging every internal organ.
You whimpered in response and felt the twitch of his lips, apparently amused by the reaction. His kisses traced your jawline, then captured your mouth in one swift and breathless motion. Tongues entwined, intent on exploring every angle, swallowing every breath.
His waistcoat fell open by your insistent fiddling, hands finding his firm stomach as you splayed your fingers wide. Tracing down to his hips, all sharp angles. He did not waver in his pace, looping a gloved hand around your neck to cup the base of your skull as his kiss deepened. The friction against his thigh did little to relieve the intense ache in your core as you felt your underwear slicken with need.
“Emmrich,” you sighed into his open mouth, his teeth nipping lightly at your lower lip.
What a tease he was, enjoying prolonging this game far too much. But you felt the hardened length in his trousers press against your hip, an undeniable reminder of his own desires. You arched your back, grinding into him with renewed vigour, and he gasped with a flex of his hand. Another slow roll of your hips drew a low, rumbling groan from his throat. The satisfaction of his unravelling could not be matched, and you smirked against his lips.
“The things you do to me…,” he muttered, bringing his bejewelled fingers to rest upon your thigh.
You drew back to look into the hazel depths of his eyes, melting as the golden flecks wavered in firelight. Every line, every mark upon his skin only made him more beautiful, each telling a tale of a life well lived. Your thumb traced the crow's feet in an entirely too intimate gesture, and you witnessed Emmrich's self control wane.
His grip upon your thigh tightened, body pressing closer as he kissed you again, and the hunger that roared in your chest was matched only by his own. He murmured your name in reverent praise with every press of his hips. And his hand moved higher, unfastening the buckle of your trousers.
Yes, yes, yes.
You helped him slip the pesky clothes down your legs until you were bare from the waist down, the cold wood of his desk pressing against your behind. He resumed his previous kneading of your flesh, the cold metal of his rings trailing your burning skin. When he reached the apex of your thighs, your breathing was ragged, chest heaving.
A single finger slid between your lips, coated in your desire, effortlessly honing in on the swollen bud that demanded attention lest you cry out in frustration for the entire Lighthouse to hear. You might have begged, but were too enraptured with Emmrich's lips, his meandering hands, the silken silver strands of his mussed hair. The first press of his finger made you shudder, and you squirmed and moaned as he began the slow, firm circles, winding you tighter and tighter.
You’d succeeded in ridding him of his waistcoat, then unbuttoning his shirt to press kisses against his collarbone, but became too distracted to unclothe him any further due to his unwavering attention. He watched you intently, seemingly fascinated by your desperate whimpering. He'd brought you to the edge in mere minutes, a mess between your thighs that doubtless pooled onto the desk beneath. You were perched atop it now, legs pressed wide. Emmrich took no shame in watching as his fingers slipped around your aching centre—then again, neither did you. He slipped a single finger inside you, then another, to the knuckles.
You moaned and clawed at his hair, writhing in an attempt to push him deeper. He acquiesced, burying his ringed digits inside you. Fingers pulsed, the drag of metal making you shudder with pleasure. Then he curled those fingers with dextrous precision and you cried out as an orgasm ripped through your body. You fell limp, arms barely able to keep you propped upright. The waves kept coming, Emmrich returning his attention to the swollen bud that became increasingly sensitive with every swipe of his thumb.
He kissed you through it all, until only gasps and brushes of lips remained.
Dazed though you were, you could not ignore the hard cock that twitched in his trousers. You didn't want to ignore it—as wonderful as his fingers were, you'd not be sated until he was buried deep inside you.
When he pulled his hand from between your legs, you watched with hooded eyes as he surveyed the mess, a slow smile creeping onto his handsome face.
“Feel better, darling?”
“I want you, Emmrich,” you sighed. “All of you.”
Fuck being mysterious and coy.
“Here?”
He looked genuinely shocked by the prospect of fucking you over his desk. Your chest tightened, and you pulled him closer by his shirt. He didn't resist as you undid his trousers, cock springing free as you pushed them past his hips. A groan laced with pure lust left your lips, and you wrapped your hand around him, swiping a thumb over the glistening precum that stained the fabric pooled below. Emmrich gasped, looking to the ceiling as if in silent prayer.
“I need you,” you reiterated with a gentle tug of foreskin.
“Then you may have me, dear. Every—” he kissed your lips, gloved hand stroking your cheek “—inch.”
He pulled off your top with unexpected strength, baring your breasts to the chill. Nipples already peaked, he took one between his fingers, the soft leather adding extra friction to the already sensitive skin. You moaned and stroked his cock with a steady rhythm to match the flicks of his tongue that found your breast. A light nip of teeth, a firm handful of flesh.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, then looked up at you. “Shall I remove my glove?”
“No, leave it. I like it,” you replied with a lopsided smile.
“I thought you might.”
Emmrich peered down at where your hand continued to stroke his length, letting his eyes close for a moment. You ached to have him inside you; that thick cock nestled between a patch of silver hair. What might he taste like? The thought of running your tongue up the underside of his shaft, enveloping his head in your mouth…it made you salivate. There would be time for that later, perhaps. His eyes snapped open when your finger pressed the ridge of his cock.
“Please…,” you whined, not caring how pathetic it sounded.
Neither did he, apparently, as he spread your legs further with ease, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance that pulsed in excitement. The stretch as he slid in made your eyes roll back in pleasure, and Emmrich groaned as he took you inch by inch. Firm hands pushed your knees further back, driving deeper until your sweat-slicked skin was flush.
“Oh fuck you feel good,” you said.
He pulled out about halfway, then thrusted back with a snap of his hips. You whimpered, feeling his head kiss your cervix, walls fluttering around his cock as another orgasm started to build.
“Language, darling. Or I might send you back to your room.”
“You wouldn't dare,” you chuckled shakily.
Another thrust silenced you, and your arms finally gave out, sending you crumpling backwards onto his desk. You growled in frustration, pulling papers from underneath your back and throwing them on the floor.
Emmrich looked positively scandalised.
“Do I need to teach you a lesson about respecting others’ property?” he asked, silken voice growing more hoarse with every slow thrust.
You laughed, quickly devolving into another moan. “Yes, professor.”
Emmrich hummed and gripped your waist, hard. Fingers dug in, creating dents with his nails on one side, the burn of leather on the other. Then he began to fuck you in earnest.
Emmrich was capable of such gentleness, but he knew what you needed now. He pulled you onto his cock with each snap of his hips, hitting every sweet spot you possessed in tandem. It was overwhelming, a swirling vortex of pleasure. You were dizzy, so hazy with ecstasy that you couldn't form coherent words, only moans and screams. Fuck anyone overhearing, you didn't care, there was only him.
His steady rhythm gradually sped up, becoming more erratic as his breath laboured. Silver strands crossed his brow, the last of his composure now deserted him. You liked him like this—dishevelled, sweaty and eyes glittering with passion. As the wet slap of skin filled the room, echoing off the bookcases and scant furnishings, you felt your legs begin to shake as your climax approached.
“Emmrich…Emmrich I'm going to, fuck.”
He pounded into you at the same pace, bringing a thumb to circle your overstimulated clit.
“Let go, darling. I have you,” he replied.
You cried out, searching for something to cling to. Fingers curled over the lip of the desk. Your back arched, and you fell apart. Your vision faded to black amongst the pounding in your ears, but Emmrich didn't relent. The whimpers and whines only fuelled him; his grip on your waist became bruising, but there was pleasure in the pain.
“Rook…,” he panted. “Where can I—?”
“Inside me, please.”
Emmrich gave another hard thrust and a great shuddering sigh, and his cock pulsed inside you. He filled you until his spend coated your thighs, your bodies simultaneously exhausted as he slumped on top of you. He nuzzled against your neck, breathless; a vulnerability that you cherished. Hearts beat together, touches turning gentle once again.
“Thank you,” you said eventually, now sated and tired.
Emmrich kissed your neck, your chin, your lips, standing unsteadily and pulling his trousers back up to his waist. He held out a hand as one might ask for a dance, returning to the gentlemanly scholar once again.
Heyo! Welcome to the madness lmao. This is a place for me to dump all my fav Hugh Laurie-adjacent posts, but mostly House MD related ones let's be real 😅
× Call me L!
× I use she/they pronouns
× I'm in my 20's, please keep this in mind if interacting.
× Prone to rambling about autism, disability and chronic illness, particularly in relation to House (my url's there for a reason lmao)
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*NOTE* - As far as I know there's like 1 vaguely adult post on this blog (yes, it's the Chance gifset, if you know you know) but it's tagged with "Look Away", please be sensible and blacklist accordingly if required
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Will add more if I can think of it. Anyways, cheers!
