#Farkas knows whats good

[ronkeyroo]

🐺 LYCANTHROPY:

Featuring : The werewolf brothers

Is it a Blessing? ᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇ?

#LAUGHS #AJKSFHDSF Tumblr isnt safe from my shitposting either #Vilkas #Farkas #Farkas knows whats good #hes sexy and he KNOWS IT #meanwhile #Vilkas : Bitchless & miserable #Oh vilkas #This strictly follows the hc where vilkas choses to give up his lycanthropy and become human while Farkas be like nah bro #and keeps his werewolf blood because hes just #lovin it #like cmon man how can you give up having such beautiful hairy badonkers #i adore giving vilkas the most. absolutely unhinged expressions #look at him. poor man #anyways LOL #Tes #skyrim #skyrim art shenanigans #shitposting #vilkas skyrim #farkas skyrim #ronkeyroo #my art

[dykedvonte]

thoughts on the best ending slide where the Khans and Followers of the Apocalyspe meet up in the north and create a mighty society?

I think its so interesting because on the basis of FNV it's likely The Followers would not fuck have actually fucked with The Khans.

Like not in a mean way but Followers and the Khans differ on pretty fundamental levels. They already had prior and brief interactions where the Followers taught the Khans how to make a lot of the chems they sell, hoping they'd use it for benevolent purposes. They likely would not be happy or thrilled to know what they were actually using them for or that they were supplying them to the Fiends of all people. Especially if Julie Farkas is still in charge, she reacts very negatively to the idea of working with the Atomic Wrangler on the sole fact they intentionally hook their patrons on substances to keep them coming. Even if the Khans stopped there'd be the question if the Followers would look past this for cooperation.

We also have the fact that the followers are generally pacifists and loathe violence. They have guards as holding such beliefs makes them a vulnerable group but it's still another contrast from the more aggressive Khans. Not even to get started on them siding with the Legion, who will slaughter the Followers if they win (on the condition Caesar is dead) or run them out of the Fort and have a kill-on-sight protocol for them. The rule of fiction is they bonded over being run out or settled their differences but the build-up to the thriving empire is so much more interesting, along with the current state of it as it no doubt had to alter a lot of Khan traditions.

What I find most interesting about this ending is more so the effect the player has on it. If we use the idea the Followers they reconnect with are a different branch, then the Khans only go on to create a legacy and become a powerhouse again like in the first game. If we like to believe the Followers influenced positively then for good too (and not like their Fallout 1 predecessor). It's a clean slate for them in Wyoming but I do question what happened to the people already settled there?

If we take it was the Followers from the Fort, this route only happens if the player pointedly neglects a lot of Follower interaction and begs the question if they were desperate for a protective allegiance. The Followers are already run ragged with demands by the time the Courier gets there and being forced to leave under any of the conditions wouldn't help either. Just because they helped the Khans doesn't mean it was because they went with the same goals, more so it was mutually beneficial, much more on the Khans side because they would have to give significantly less up as the providers in this scenario.

Ultimately I think it's interesting no matter what because I like to imagine the turmoil and beef they had before cooperation. The Followers are seen as peace-loving doctor hippies by a lot of the Mojave and NCR but they are never truly hated. They just suck at actually forming alliances. To where the Khans' history and reputation are a big reason why they had to side with the Legion for revenge on the NCR despite the NCR not being loved either. To have to work with a group that previously sided with the faction that wanted you dead or just in general went against what you stood for is fascinating from a story standpoint. The fact that they prospered is another!

It's also interesting as this is treated as a much better thing for the Great Khans as it only appears on their ending slide and not the Follower's.

#i think the game glosses over that a lot of the minor factions dont interact and if they did it would be weird #like would the Khans worked with the Followers and the legion make it pretty clear who their enemies are #we could believe its the case they didnt mention the followers knowing the khans fondness but if we also think the khans remand in contact #theyd know the followers would have been an eventual target had the legion succeeded especially if Caesar died #honestly the best endings for the followers involve getting them to side with the NCR and then an NCR ending like say what you will but #I think its important that it doesnt specify its the Fort Followers meaning they really could have just been pushed out with no place to go #A fun ending for the followers and the khans over all tho #i think its kinda funny that the khans just die off if you tell them their legacy is shit and Papa Khan admiting its kinda true cause like #dawg ur past is not good you just weren't on the receiving end of those behaviors. #ask #anon #fallout #fallout new vegas #the great khans #papa khan #julie farkas #followers of the apocalypse

[darkelfchicksick]

eisbecherovka you are strictly forbidden from looking at this post!!!!

anyway I'm running this 5e 30 years war campaign that's drawing to it's close. just know that a bunch of war gods made a pact and took over christianity, except. y'know. war gods love war, so now they're trying to keep elf library system jesus from getting an item of immense power, which the party has finally collected and pieced together. Mars had gotten wind of the whole operation pretty early on and sent one of his clerics (by the name of Wolfgang Musculus) to travel with the party. Wolfgang was a pretty chill dude, more powerful than the party (not that they cared lmao) and he summoned some red hot roman warrior chicks with spears, as well as a magical spear, several times. he left them before entering Munich, a central place of worship for Morrigan, who's not vibing with Mars. The party pretty much immediately forgot about him and also got a new cleric PC. Wolfgang's gone I guess. (he isn't)

fast forward to Vienna. They approach a student in a cafe, a little twink nerd, who wants to go on an adventure so bad! Party decides to take him on as an intern. When faced with an immensely powerful enemy, he turns out to be quite useful, and summons a red warrior chick, as well as a red magical spear, to help defeat it. "Oh, he's probably a Mars guy, Wolfgang had this red stuff, too," says one of the players. I sit there. Thinking to myself. His name is Farkas Mäuschen. farkas, as in hungarian for wolf. mäuschen, as in little mouse. as in latin, musculus.

#THEY HAVE ALL THE PIECES THEY JUST ACCEPT THIS USELESS STUDENT ISN'T SO USELESS #he is. he is literally the same guy at least one of you knows what farkas means I'm. #i thought it would be too obvious #but the fact that his last name is mousey immediately derailed any suspicion #I'm too good at my job

[argisthebulwark]

Love's A Funny Thing

summary: assigning my favorite Skyrim men one of the five love languages. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Erandur, Miraak, Cicero, Brynjolf, Balimund, Erik the Slayer, Vilkas, Arnbjorn, Teldryn Sero, Farkas warnings: none

Words of Affirmation

Erandur wants nothing more than to express how deeply and all encompassing his love for you is. He loves you with each breath he draws, every day spent in your presence only strengthening your bond. The shimmering pink light of sunrises and easy breeze through a perfectly autumnal forest make his mind drift to you, often recounting the beauty he finds in the world and how it relates to you. With your hands clasped in his he admits his love for you, interrupted only by the tearful kisses you plant across his face. 

Miraak has spent lifetimes cultivating a vocabulary and puts it to good use. In languages long forgotten he whispers of his love to you, shaking the walls when his Thu’um aims to make it known to the entire world that he is yours. There is nothing but sheer adoration when he tells you how deeply your claws have sunk into his heart, how his soul spent centuries yearning for yours.  “I have wasted lifetimes searching for you, my beloved.” Miraak murmurs against your lips, voice low and velvety. “And I would face all the terror of the world again if it allowed me a few more moments in your arms.” 

Quality Time

Cicero could easily display his love with any of the love languages, even some secret bloody ones he's thought up too, but quality time means the most to him. It is most natural for him to show his love by sticking to your side - accompanying you on missions to ensure your safety and only sleeping when you’re pressed to one another, he shows you how deeply he cares by remaining with you. He wishes for nothing more than to make you laugh, to hear your voice and bask in the presence of his beloved Listener. 

Brynjolf has lost many people. There are so many friendships cut short and people he’s spent more time missing than knowing them. He makes a consistent effort to never lose time with you - after thinking Mercer snatched away another loved one, Brynjolf changes his ways. The endless nights spent working in the Cistern are replaced with a staunchly enforced time when the workday ends.  “You’re not my Guild Master anymore,” he interrupts when you hastily remember an unfinished task during dinner. “We’re home, love. I’m nothin’ but your husband here.”  He will not miss a moment with you. The days spent grieving you altered his view on work - nothing takes precedence over time with you. To him, nothing is worth losing time with his beloved. 

Gift Giving

Balimund may not have much extra time in his busy days but he always whittles out a moment for you. He often surprises you with practical gifts - perfectly balanced blades with intricate handles and jewelry intended to withstand the nastiest of spells. Each gift he gives was forged by his hands outside your home, an individual piece made just for you.  “It’s to ensure you make it back to me in one piece,” he says after strapping the beautiful dagger into a sheath at your side. His gifts are beautiful, crafted purely to show how much he adores you. 

Erik loves hunting for the perfect gift to give you - taking mental notes of what draws your eye when visiting shops, especially the items you put back after spotting the price. He knows how reluctant you are to purchase anything not deemed ‘essential’ but always finds time to slink back into the shop and buy whatever brought a smile to your face. He doesn’t care much for receiving gifts, pouring all the love he can into the specific things he can give to you. 

Acts of Service

Vilkas may have trouble with flowery words but he ensures that you know how deeply he cares. Even if his tone is harsh his intentions are good - if your footing is off or your swing is weak he could lose you. He takes on the role of Harbinger when it becomes too much for you to carry alone, offering help before you think to ask.  He cannot sit under the moonlight and tell you how his heart yearns for yours, but he will clean your wounds without hesitation. Vilkas will bandage you, will piece you back together with his own two hands without a second thought. He will wipe your tears and send your armor off to be repaired to show how deeply he cares for you. 

Arnbjorn would kill for you. Please give him an opportunity to kill for you. Although he cannot untangle the web of feelings in his mind and he isn’t one to shop for gifts he will show you in a heartbeat just how deeply he cares. He has loved and lost before - he does not intend to lose you. His blade is always ready should you ever need it, eyes and ears vigilant for any impending threat.  He is not a man of many words but you feel his love - there is love in the way he ensures your blades remain sharp and pack is fully stocked. Arnbjorn’s love is seen in the way he threatens anyone who dares to cross you and remains at your side during meetings, a silent threat to any who would harm you. The words are difficult for him to say but you know his love is there when he carries you off to bed after an especially hard day or slides you a drink without having to ask.

Physical Touch

Teldryn doesn’t think before pulling you out of danger. It is hardly a thought - his arm hooking in yours and tugging you closer, his body shielding you from danger. Even when his hands are bandaged and bleeding he checks you for injuries, fingers carefully skimming over every inch of skin in search of wounds. Your touch assures him that you are alive, that you are still with him.  His touch is a quiet comfort, an occurrence so common it becomes a natural extension of yourself. His thigh pressed to yours when you sit or the hand resting on your arm while you speak, an ever present reminder of his feelings for you. 

Farkas is ecstatic to find someone as physical as himself. From a young age he learned that Vilkas didn’t express emotions in the same manner but you understand him. You indulge his love of touch; excited hugs upon surviving an especially bloody battle or a friendly slap on the back after a drunken joke, a tender moment heightened by your hands roaming over one another. Farkas is in love with the way you react to him - the flush in your cheeks after he kisses you and the thoughtless way your hand reaches for his, the comforting swipe of your thumb over his hand when lost in thought. He simply has too much love for you to keep it all inside. 

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #erandur #miraak #cicero #brynjolf #balimund #erik the slayer #vilkas #arnbjorn #teldryn sero #farkas

[thequeenofthewinter]

Skyrim Characters Send Text Messages

It's been a while since I have done one of these, so let's goooooo...

Elisif the Fair: *sends passive aggressive texts where she tries to get you to "unwittingly" compliment her* *favorite emoji is the heart with sparkles* Vilkas: *has a Nokia brick* *it's vintage, okay* *he bought it secondhand at Belethor's General Goods* *half the keys don't work* Farkas: *emoji king* *sends out those chain texts like "pass it forward to 10 friends you think are special"* *buys Vilkas a new phone and he refuses to use it* Galmar Stone-Fist: *sends one word texts* *half the time they are misspelled* *"What's an emoji? Why are you sending me smiling bears, Rikke? Bears don't smile"* Ulfric Stormcloak: *all of his texts are grammatically correct* *man would not deign to use abbreviations nor contractions* *long winded walls of text which wax poetic* *this is a 5 paragraph essay* Brynjolf: *sends out phishing messages about Falmer blood elixir* *gets scammed himself* *phone is full of texts about meeting the "sexy Argonian maid of your dreams for 29.99 per night"* Serana: *sends the politest texts or rants about her parents* *there is no in-between* *just come meet me okay* *200/10 will then get you into trouble but you'll have fun* Teldryn Sero: *prefers not to send text messages but rather call people* *no one picks up because who answers a phone in this day and age* *gives up and texts eggplant emojis to Neloth* *will talk to you on the phone for 3 hours* General Tullius: *loses his phone half the time so he gives it to Rikke* *Rikke sends all his text messages* *doesn't actually know how texting works* Lydia: *sends snarky texts about picking up your stuff from Breezehome* *seriously my house is not a storage shed* *drunk texts flirty messages* *LDB takes her phone* Uthgerd the Unbroken: *too little patience and too small keys* *accidentally smashes her finger through the screen* *doesn't bother getting a new one*

#skyrim #ulfric stormcloak #elisif the fair #vilkas #serana #farkas #galmar stone fist #lydia #general tullius #brynjolf #teldryn sero #uthgerd the unbroken #skyrim situations

[mischasbongwater]

farkas x reader

warning: intense sex, vaguely fem-bodied reader but only if you squint

authors note: this is most certainly not my best work, just practice if anything but im still glad i finished it (emphasis on finished) and i wanted to share it and this felt like a good place to do it

(also for context this takes place after his transformation in the crypt that first time)

You slip into Farkas’s room as quickly and quietly as you can, out of worry that one of the other Companions might get suspicious. You carefully close the door, turn around—

—And Farkas is standing at the foot of his bed, in nothing but a loincloth.

“OH!” You yelp, throwing your hands up in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“It’s fine, open your eyes. I don’t care.”

You falter. “Wh- seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Slowly, you lower your hands and look at him. He’s sat down on his bed now, arms folded. Somehow he still looks just as big and intimidating as when he’s wearing armor. You can so clearly see his muscles rippling beneath his olive skin, but you try not to look anywhere other than his face — or arms.

You catch the inquisitive look on his face and snap yourself back to reality. “So,” you begin. “Werewolf.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “It is a gift given only to those in the Circle. Should you want to share the beastblood, you’ll have to prove your honor.”

“Right.” You cannot stop looking at him.

“Truth be told, if you want a more technical history, you should talk to Kodlak or Vilkas. I don’t usually put much thought into it beyond the gift itself. But- are you okay?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You smell different.” He stands up.

“That- is so weird,” you respond, momentarily distracted by bewilderment. “What do I smell like?”

“Normally? Just you. But now…” He steps closer until he’s barely a foot away from you. It feels like his bare chest is looking you straight in the eyes. “It’s different. Stronger. Sweeter.”

You look up at him, eyes wide, feeling something you’ve never quite felt before. Dread and thrill both building up in your stomach, like white-hot balls of metal expanding through your abdomen. Sharp bursts of adrenaline spiking through your body.

“Are you interested in me, new blood?” His deep, gritty voice had a strange new cadence to it, like warm honey pouring into your ears.

You inhale shakily. “I- don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Can I answer it for you?”

You don’t even know if the word “yes” had left your mouth yet before you were in Farkas’s grasp. One hand is gently gripping the back of your neck, and the other is caressing the top of your head, weaving fingers through your hair. His rough, salty lips are pressed against yours, hard. You reach out and place your hands on his hips, closing the gap between you. He quivers under your touch, then melts into it, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

After a few heated moments, he pulls back, much to your disappointment.

“Do you want this?” He asks, his voice sounding much darker now.

You look at him, confused. “Wh-“

“The beast-spirit inside of me. He wants you. Bad.” He fidgets with his hands, showing the first glimpse of true uncertainty and nervousness you’ve ever seen from him. “I don’t know if I can keep being gentle like this. I don’t want to-”

“Farkas.” You take his hands. “I don’t care. I’m yours.”

A lustful spark appears in his eyes. He grabs you by your waist, picks you up with ease, and pins you to his bed, desperately grabbing at your clothes and trying to pull them off.

He seems as stocky and strong as a tree trunk, every part of him laying over you like this. He reaches down and pulls his loincloth off, then lowers himself down, almost completely immobilizing you.

His hands wander up to your face, lazily at first, then grabbing you roughly and once more pushing his lips against yours. His hips begin to thrust slowly against yours, and you feel his hardening cock sliding up and down against your stomach.

“Mmm… you smell so good.” His hands travel across your body, greedily touching every part he can reach. Your own hand begins to drift downward, but he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“You had your chance to lead,” he growls. “It’s my turn now.” He pins up your other hand and buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting, forcing high, breathy moans out of your mouth. His movement slowly grows more desperate, and you feel the same.

“Farkas…” you say pleadingly. He lets out a deep purr and snaps his hips against you in approval. He raises his head above yours. You stare into his eyes, and he stares back, perfectly mirroring the burning passion you feel. His soft raven hair hangs down perfectly around his broad, rugged face. He leans down and whispers into your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin and sending tingles down your back. “I’m going to make you mine.”

Without any more warning than that, he grabs your hips so hard you think he might leave handprints, and he pushes his tip inside of you. You let out a shuddering gasp, your hands shooting up and grabbing onto his biceps for dear life.

He begins to push further into you, his thick shaft throbbing and stretching you out. The pain felt so good. A keening moan escapes from your mouth. Farkas closes his eyes, and you can see the muscles feathering along his tightly-clenched jaw as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

“Farkas,” you breathe out. “Farkas-” you yelp as he forcefully thrusts his full length into you. “Y-you’re so big…” you manage to stammer out. “Fu-uuck. Please, Farkas.”

He opens his eyes and smirks. He smirks at you.

“Please what, darling?”

“Fuck me,” you heave desperately, your nails digging into his skin. “Fuck me, Farkas, please, I-”

You’re cut off by his strong, meaty hand pressing over your mouth, covering half your face. He gives a firm but gentle squeeze. “Sshhh, shh-shh.” He purrs. “Can’t have you waking up the others.” He starts slowly thrusting again. “Or is that what you want? Does the new blood want all of Jorrvaskr to hear them whining like a dog?”

You can do nothing but squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body pulsating with the feeling of him inside of you. That white-hot feeling is back, even more intensely now, like a sun planted in your stomach.

“That’s right,” he groans, starting to speed up. “Good.” He squeezes your face tighter, his eyes closing again and his head tilting back in pleasure. His movements grow almost animalistic, shoving himself further and further inside of you over and over. Your body tenses up, vibrating with heat and ecstasy, his cock filling you up so deep you think you might pass out. Your moans are uncontrollable and muffled by his hand, while your own are nearly drawing blood from their death grip on his arms. He keeps pounding into you, grunting and moaning huskily, holding you solidly in place. Your hips snap back up in rhythm with his, your body twitching from the pleasure and strain. If not for him muzzling you, you would be crying out, screaming his name, moaning and keening in primal euphoria.

The ball in your stomach expands like molten metal, spreading through your body until it feels as if Farkas has filled every last inch of you. It builds and builds and builds-

Until he stops, hilt-deep inside of you. You squirm and cry out, frantic with lust and just on the edge of overstimulation from his huge cock. He hums smugly at your struggle, his face inches away from yours. “Look at you. Such a desperate little thing. You like being used like this?”

You nod, aggressively and pathetically. Farkas chuckles, and the deep, raspy sound of his subtle laughter is almost enough to send you over the edge right there. He shifts, taking his other hand and grasping both sides of your face, pushing his thumbs into your mouth.

“Stay quiet,” he growls, before continuing his merciless thrusts at the same pace he left off at. Without even meaning to, you clamp down on his thumbs between your teeth, letting out a flood of sharp, cut-off moans as he fucks you with reckless abandon. You almost can’t stand the speed and girth hammering into you, sending you into a state of complete, mindless hunger.

Through your feral haze, you see his bottom lip caught under his teeth, his eyes tightly closed, and his eyebrows knitted together. Then his mouth hangs open, and a small whimper escapes into the air.

The molten ball inside of you explodes, coating his length and squirting onto his thighs and stomach. You lay completely silent, convulsing and arching beneath him, consumed with bliss. You scratch helplessly at his shoulders, wordlessly begging, and Farkas complies, thrusting more sensually yet somehow rougher into you now. He covers your mouth again, and you allow the torrent of wild moans to erupt from within you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, every vein and ridge on his cock hitting you in all the right places.

Just when you think you might finally go unconscious, he pulls out and a thick ribbon of cum streams out onto your stomach. He looks to be reared back like a horse, holding tight onto your hips to keep from falling, head swung back as he shudders through his own orgasm.

Panting, he collapses onto you, practically forcing the air out of your lungs with his weight. You wrestle your arms out from under him and wrap them around his torso — or at least, as far around as they can reach.

“Fuck,” Farkas whispers hoarsely, enveloping you in his arms now and turning you both to your sides. You make a noise of agreement muffled by his chest.

“Are- are you gonna stay here?” He asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. You make another noise, this one of more serene agreement. He exhales deeply and goes limp, pulling you closer to him. You were both far too hot and sweaty for his blankets, but not for your own skin against the other’s. Filled with contentment and… other stuff… you relish in his scent and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You catch a glimpse of the moon from outside his window.

Who cares if he’s a werewolf, you think to yourself. Nothing could make me rethink this.

#i want to apologize #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim x reader #farkas #farkas x reader

[miraakulous-c6]

My headcanon about what would happen if Farkas is in love with the Dragonborn

He would be really confused at first because he does not understand his own feelings

He would like to be at the Dragonborn's side even more than before, which he does not think anything specific of

But he does not understand why he feels weird in a good way whenever the Dragonborn looks at him, talks to him or just near to him

It is pretty obvious to everyone but him and the Dragonborn

Noone helps him out as long as it does not get out of hand

After watching Farkas becoming a nervous wreck and not being able to say a single word without stuttering Aela helps him out

Or at least she tries because with Farkas it is not that easy

He just gets even more confused and wants to do nothing but hide from the Dragonborn because while he still does not entirely understands, he knows it is more than friendship but cannot name it

It goes on and on until the Dragonborn takes matters in their hand and make a move on Farkas

Which still would render him to a stuttering, nervous and blushing mess but at least that's a start

And once he gets used to it then he will be more than happy to have the Dragonborn at his side

I hope it does justice to Farkas. I never did this kind of headcanon before

#skyrim headcanon #skyrim #farkas #farkas skyrim #Farkas headcanon #farkas x reader

[dovahkinniez]

I genuinely love your blog so much, I've definitely binged a few times haha. I was wondering if you'd do a NSFW alphabet for Kaidan from skyrim? I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and holiday season!

` 𖤓 . . . NSFW ALPHABET: KAIDAN.

Oh my god. You absolute angel. Thank you so much! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas/holiday season too, love.

So then, I expected either Kaidan or Farkas to be requested for this, I was right. Let's get into it. (I'm excited HAHA) ps. This hasn't been proof-read, any mistakes ignore, if I change any that's means I've had the motivation to read though... Enjoy anyway!

18+ only!! Sexual content ahead. Minors dni.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Kaidan is a naturally rough man with a rough outlook on life, but this doesn't apply to the aftercare he gives you. He loves the intimacy of feeling your bodies close after sex, in a non-sexual way where he feels you both calm down.

He likes to hold you, to help wash each other between sweet kisses and light conversations. After a rough session he'll massage you, you massage him and it's like a little bonding session between you both. He loves to be just a pampered and as looked after as you are after sex. He finds it more intimate than the act beforehand.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: he likes his arms, hands and shoulders. They're strong and big. He likes how his arms hold you, move you about. He likes how his shoulders cage over you, how they hold your legs over them when he goes down, he loves how his hands make you feel.

Yours: your thighs and stomach. Doesn't matter how big or small. He loves them. To grab, kiss, bite, rest his head on. To hold when he fucks you. If you have a tummy he will grab during sex, it drives him wild. I see him liking a thicc mf. (Yum)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

I see him as someone who cums quite a lot. He's a horny mf and when he shoots, he shoots. He likes to cum in you, likes to fuck it further in you, to watch it ooze around you both. And on your stomach and chest too.

I think he strays away from doing it in your mouth for the simple reason he doesn't want it to be too much, if you're okay with a literal mouthful then go ahead, but you'd have to tell him you want it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hehe. He likes to watch and hear you pleasure yourself. He will pretend he's asleep if you do it beside him late at night. One eye open as he watches you. He doesn't touch himself, he doesn't interrupt. He finds it hotter letting himself rile up so he can wake up tomorrow and fuck it out his system with you. He's never told you he's done this multiple times and he won't because he wants it to happen again. And again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He has experience. Fuckin hell. I suggest you don't ask his body count, unless you want to leave with a bruise on your ego. Thing is though, you're the only one he's ever loved. He's had sex, a lot of it but never with people he loves or even really likes. Most he couldn't even tell you their name.

But all this experience has lead him to know what to do and what not to do. He knows what he's doing, and he's really good at it too. So say thanks to the many others before you, because you're his last and you get the best sex ever.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

I'd say he's a switch, with a huge dominant lean.

He loves it when you ride him. Laid back relaxed as he moans out into the air, dark eyes watching you as you use his cock as a toy to pleasure yourself on. Loves watching how your body moves, how it takes him.

Doggy. We know this. He just screams it. Loves it when you arch your back, face down, ass up. Grabbing all over your thighs and ass as he watches it shake with each thrust. DAMNNN. And when he leans down, hand holding your jaw up as he presses hot kisses along your neck and shoulders.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depends. He's naturally quite a funny person once you get to know him, unintentionally that is. During sex he might come out with a few one liners that he says seriously but you end up dying of laughter, he laughs with you.

He believes its healthy to have fun while having sex because sometimes when you see sex as two naked people bumping bits it can feel awkward, so when you laugh it loosens that up a bit, especially if you are inexperienced and it's the first few times of you two having it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

This man doesn't care either way.

Whatever you prefer, he's easy come. Easy go. He ain't afraid to delve into the jungle if you prefer not to shave and he's too lazy to keep up with his own. He likes to do a bit of trimming because otherwise he's complaining about his 'dangly bits' annoying him if he shaves completely.

But he keeps his happy trail, hell yeah. I am a supporter of happy trails.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, but not cheesy romance. More like 'fun and loving', he sees it as a fun thing to do, he likes to watch you and feel you and loves eye contact with lots of touching. So yeah. He is pretty intimate.

But don't expect candles and petals everywhere...

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He's a horny man. He loves a good wank. He isn't the type to do it like four times a day. Maybe four times a week. But he usually has you anyway so he doesn't need his fist as much anymore.

If you aren't as sexual as him, that's cool. He'll just had a wank and go about his day if he's horny enough. But he's always horny so..

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Face sitting ‐ loves it when you sit on his face. No hovering. None of that shit. Suffocate this man. If he ain't gasping for air after he ain't impressed.

Choking - both ways. Loves it when you take control. He knows he can easily overpower you but he doesn't because he just likes to let loose and let you take the reigns. But still, choke him, let him choke you. He loves it.

Degradation - again, both ways. Loves to call you his whore, and loves to fuck you like it too while grunting strings of degrading things into your ear, loves to mock you even more when he sees your reaction to said nasty things.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere. You could have just taken down a dragon and he's like 'fucking hell, seeing you murder that thing was sexy. Wanna fuck?' And you're off behind a rock like the rest ain't behind the other side like ???

Lowkey loves it in taverns though. Having the stay quiet while the others drinks and sing, relax and sleep. Especially after youve both had a few to drink. Makes it more fun.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Pfffttt. Anything. You could bend over to pick up something and he's the type to grab your hips and pretend to fuck you. You even remind him of what happened last night and he's ready to do it all over again. He loves you, and your body and what both your bodies do together, how could he not want more?

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No threesomes or anyone involved at all. You're his, he's yours. Only you two could see and experience something as intimate as sex. He may like the excitement of being caught. But would kill anyone who set eyes on your body the way he does.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Likes to wine, dine and 69. He loves your mouth and you love his. Especially when used down under.

He's like a starved man, so hungry and ready. Definitely a messy giver, he gets off to it because he loves the taste and the feeling of his mouth against you. Like just imagine him drunk on you with his chin and jaw soaking wet - fucking hell.

Likes it when you lay with your head back off the bed so he can fuck your throat. Holding your head in place as you use your tongue and lips on him. Drives him crazy to see your throat expand and gasp as he slides it in and out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually pretty fast. It really depends on the mood and specifically how you want it. He wants you to enjoy it as much as him. He likes to go slower after an emotionally waring day, to just lose himself in you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, depends on you. He's down to quickies, but he likes to make you feel good so if you're the type who needs time he'll make sure you're both able to have that time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

A bit of knife play. He's a skilled man and the way he handles his blade gets a fire in you. So maybe you asked him about it. He sees it as a risk. He never wants to hurt you or do something accidentally so you'd most likely have to talk him into it and reassure him. His Aftercare is 100% more important after sessions like this.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He lasts a long while I'd say, maybe not when you first got together because he hadn't had sex for awhile. But he gotten better and at not wanting to bust the moment you even touched him. He'd last up to an hour, three on a good day if he takes breaks to move positions. You and your body hold a lot of power over him.

He can go over two rounds. Especially if you haven't done it in awhile, he wants to make up for it.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He's not opposed to them. Sex toys don't exactly like ... exist... in this world. But if you wanted to try something out, he'd never say no. He loves to try new things and spice it up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's a natural tease. He's so funny with it until you're about to orgasm and he's like 'aha. Not too fast there, darling', acting as if he hadn't done that multiple times.. So yeah. He is quite unfair. But he loves to lead you into the best orgasm physically possible.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Yknow when you're in a dungeon and he starts speaking loudly out of nowhere? Kind of like that. He goes from being generally quiet, the odd noise in your ear to him groaning and grunting. It's so hot. He mumbles a lot too. Cussing between gritted teeth.

W = Wild Card

He loves to fuck your thighs. Simple as. Xoxo

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Lol. He's big, around 8.5/9 inches long. He's thick too. Curves upwards slightly. It's kind of scary until you're used to it. I don't think he's the type to realise how big he is either. But he knows how to use it, really well.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high, simple as.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He makes sure you're comfortable and sorted. He likes to chat too afterwards so he isn't the type to fall asleep fast after. Most times he falls asleep after you do because he likes to tell you stories as you sleep.

#skyrim x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim headcanon #skyrim scenarios #skyrim x dovahkiin #elder scrolls skyrim #skyrim #elder scrolls #kaidan 2 x reader #kaidan tes #kaidan mod x reader #kaidan 2 #kaidan romance

[deadlymousex01]

Skyrim Characters when you get hurt

Farkas, Brynjolf, Nazier, Aela, Arnbjorn, Lydia

You got hurt on a mission and there were no healing potions readily available (but let's face it if your actually playing skyrim you're usually stocked on those things, also for the sake of this story you don't have a healing spell). Sorry if this is a long one! Hope you enjoy! :)

Farkas

Farkas carefully wraps the bandage around your injuries making sure to not hurt you further. He's trying so hard to focus on helping you feel better but you can tell by the way his brow is scrunched he's more than a little annoyed you went so far into the barrow without him.

He got caught up dealing with some draugr and by the time he finished with them you were gone, so focused on your goal you didn't realize you'd left him behind until you were dealing with three draugr deathlords. You'd managed to keep them all at bay between shouts and your sword, even killing one of them, but they managed to get a few good hits in and if it wasn't for Farkas showing up you might have joined the dead. Once the two of you had finished them off your adrenaline had worn off and the decent cut down your back and side made it impossible to travel further, so instead Farkas got you both into a cleared out room and secured the door for the night so you could rest without risk of attack.

Now he was currently bandaging a cut along your arm and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had first been annoyed by his fussing, reminding him once again you were the dragonborn and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself but seeing his concern and worry made those feelings disappear quickly and be replaced by guilt. Once he finished with your arm he set to work building a small fire in the little pit in the room as you leaned back against the wall watching him.

"I'm sorry Farkas." You say softly. You know he's listening as his hands pause their movements even as he continues to face away from you. "I shouldn't have been so distracted and gotten so far ahead without you. We were warned this barrow was dangerous and I was reckless...I'll try to be more mindful about my surroundings in the future." You see his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh as the fire starts up. He moves to kneel in front of you, worry written all over his face, as he brings a large battle worn hand up to cup your cheek.

"I just want you to be careful, if anything happened to you..." He trailed off, but you knew what he wanted to say. Many think he's just a thickheaded brute but you knew better. Under that all that gruff was a intelligent and caring man. He sighed again looking you in the eyes. "I know you are a capable warrior, the dragonborn, and I don't want to belittle you but...please stay close to me until were out of the place."

You bring one hand up to gently hold his wrist and bring your other to cup his cheek like he's doing to yours with a smile. "I promise, and thank you for saving me, my big strong wolf." He returns your smile with a huff of a laugh before bringing his forehead forward to lightly rest against yours "You're welcome, my ferocious little dragon."

Brynjolf

"Of all the boneheaded, reckless, stupid stunts I've seen what you just pulled has got to be the stupidest one!" Brynjolf's angry whisper tickles your ear as he leans dow to talk to you. The plan was supposed to be simple; He would create a distraction downstairs in the basement of the estate to draw the guards down and then you would sneak in and rob them blind as the owner was supposed to be out for the night and his wife was not home. Well it didn't exactly work like you planned.

Brynjolf had to wait a little longer than expected to get into the estate as the owner was standing in front of the door he needed to get into talking with a guard. Deciding you didn't need a distraction you snuck into the building without him. It was going well in the beginning however you forgot to consider the owners mistress who was visiting her lover for the night. She had been sleeping in the bed and heard you sneaking around in the room over and came to investigate. You had been so busy trying to break into a safe you didn't hear her until it was to late and her dagger stabbed into your shoulder.

Luckily she had terrible aim and in the dark it was even worse so instead of stabbing into your shoulder it missed and ran the blade down the back of your shoulder and back. Your scream of pain and surprise, as well as turning around with your own dagger, caused her to scream in return and start drawing the guards upstairs. You managed to get out the window again and drop to the ground where Brynjolf was still hiding nearby. He knew what was going on the minute he heard the screams and saw the guards run into the house giving the two of you the chance to run.

You didn't get to go to far when the guards started running after you, so Brynjolf had pushed you into a small space between houses and pressed himself up against your back in order to fit himself. The wound on your back ached and burned but the feeling of your lovers body against yours helped distract you from it.

Once the guards had moved off elsewhere he slowly left the space before helping you out as well. Turning you around with his hands he lowered your collar to examine the cut.

"You're lucky your armor protected you from the worst of it, you'll need a couple stitches but you'll be fine." He turned you back to face him as he crossed his arms. "You could of been killed and it would of been because you were being stupid." You knew he was right but that didn't stop the annoyed feeling rising up at his tone.

"Oh like you've never made a bad call during a job."

"Oh plenty love," He said leaning down to be face to face with you with that signature smirk "But I'm clever enough to get away with it." You roll your eyes before turning to walk away. "You're a cocky bastard Bryn." He stops you but grabbing your arm and pushing you back until your trapped between the wall of the house and his body still smirking down at you.

"Aye love, that I am, and you can't resist it."

Nazier

You start to wake with a pounding in your head. As your open your eyes you realize you're back in the sanctuary, laying on one of the beds. You go to lift your arm but a sharp pain prevents you from doing so, instead you turn your head to see Nazier walking up to your bedside, a mug of water in his hand. He sits down in the chair next to your bed and helps you take a few drinks of water before setting it down on the end table and gently taking your uninjured hand.

"How are you feeling? We would of given you a potion but Gabriella said you needed to wake up first or it could do more damage than good." he explained gently running a hand through your hair, careful to avoid any hurt areas.

"I'm sore and hurting all over...how did I get here? Last thing I remember we were hunting down that rouge in the woods." Your head hurts as you try to recall memories that are escaping you. Nazier scooted his chair a little closer so he could lean against the bed.

"Turns out that rouge was a werewolf. The we hadn't any indication of that otherwise we would of been ready for him. You had managed to get close to him but he either smelled you or heard you because he changed quickly and hit you so hard you went flying back into a tree..." He trails off for a moment giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "For a minute after that I thought you were dead."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice. It was so broken and hurt, like he was truly afraid he had lost you. Of course it could of been true, werewolves are hard to fight when your prepared for them let alone when you aren't. You squeeze his hand back encouraging him to continue.

"I managed to kill him and ran to check on you. You were hurt pretty bad, my healing spells are rusty but I managed to heal you enough to be able to move you and get you back here. Gabriella and Babette got you bandaged up and healed a bit more, but then it's just been waiting for you to wake up. You've been out for two days."

You gently bring your hand up to his cheek and give him a small smile unable to give him the comforting hug you want to. He leans into your touch before leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips. You knew he must have been extremely worried if he's being so affectionate where the others could see. While the whole family knew the two of you were together, Nazier wasn't one to how it off much.

"Next time you go out I'm going to make extra sure we know everything about the next mark, I'm not going to let you go in blind again." You hum contently feeling safe with him nearby and as he leaves to get the healing potion you close your eyes knowing it will be a while before he lets you out of his sight again.

Aela

You limp toward Whiterun holding your side, the injury wasn't life threatening thankfully as you had been wearing your steel armor but like a idiot you hadn't remembered to bring a healing potion so now you had to endure the long walk back to Jorrvaskr. As you grew closer to the gates you could smell Aela's scent getting closer. Sure enough around the bend she came looking annoyed and worried at the same time.

"I could smell your blood from the gate, how badly are you injured? Why didn't you bring any healing potions?" She asks coming up next to you and lifting your arm to allow her to inspect your injuries. You wince as she does so, the sudden movement pulling at the wound and causing you to flinch.

"I'm fine Aela...ow...I just forgot to get some before I left since I didn't want to lose the silver hands scent. I had the element of surprise and I wasn't going to waste the chance to get 'em." You pull your arm around of her grip and lower it to relieve the strain it was putting on your side. "I had them all nearly taken care of when one pulled a hidden dagger out on me. Just got me by surprise but I'm fine. My armor blocked most of it."

She gives you a firm glare before poking your side causing you to flinch and yell in pain. "You are clearly not fine. Now lets go, don't want you to bleed out in the street." She moves to your good side and drapes your arm around her shoulders so you can lean against her for support. She leads the way through the streets gaining you both a few curious looks before you make it back to the hall. Leading you inside and to your shared room she sits you on the bed and begins to help remove your armor to look at the damage. Even with a healing potion it would need stitched up so she sits on the bed next to you and begins sewing the skin shut giving you the potion to help with the process.

"While I'm all for knocking a few silver hand heads, I wish you would of told me you were leaving to do it. I would of given you back up and probably prevented this from happening." Her quick and nimble hands make easy work of the stitches before she starts wrapping bandages around your chest and waist. "We've already lost two important people to the Companions... and to me ...I really don't want to lose anyone else. So next time, clue me in on your plans so I can make sure you don't kill yourself by accident alright?"

You nod as she finishes with the bandages and helps you lay back on the bed before joining you herself. Snuggled up together you give her a small gentle kiss "I'm sorry for worrying you Aela, I promise to tell you when and where I'm going next time."

"Good, cause if you don't I may be the one stabbing you."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, love."

Arnbjorn

"Arnbjorn, calm down! I'm fine, really, look! See? I'm fine!" This was of course a lie; your left leg was cut up and bleeding, your right arm was just as bad, you were pretty sure your left wrist was broken, and you could be sure you had at least one black eye and a cut lip. In truth you looked like hell however Arnbjorn was one move away from shifting into his werewolf form in a rage and going out and unleashing hell on anyone and everyone, wether they were involved in the bandits that did this or not.

Arnbjorn's chest was heaving so badly from his heavy breathing and growling, and his eyes had almost gone full black in rage you wondered if he was even hearing you or was just lost fighting the beast inside. While you knew he would never hurt you, you didn't want him to hurt one of the family by accident or go on a rampage in Dawnstar and force all of you to move again. You slowly limp toward him, every movement of your leg sending shooting pain up it, until you were close enough to cup his face in your hands.

"Arnbjorn...please...breathe. I know you want to help and the best way for you to do that is calm down so you can help me. Please love, for me." The mission had gone badly. The target had been ready for you and managed to capture you. They had started to torture you in the hopes of finding the rest of your family but you managed to get away and kill your target before you left. Arnbjorn had smelled your blood the moment you walked into the sanctuary and when he saw you, the beast started taking over.

His breathing started to slow down as you held his face and his body began to slowly relax. You watched as his eyes slowly returned to color before he let out a long slow sigh closing his eyes before opening them again. Without a word he immediately scooped you up into his arms and carried you downstairs and into the master bedroom of the sanctuary. He sat on the bed with you in his lap, protectively holding you against his chest as if the bandits were going to show up to finish the job. Babette came in and bandaged your wounds giving you a healing potion for the pain. After she left she shut the door leaving the two of you alone.

Arnbjorn buried his head into your neck deeply breathing in your scent and letting out a low growl. "I will be going out and killing the rest of those bastards." This wasn't a surprise, you knew he would. After losing and being betrayed by Astrid it had taken him so long to be open to the idea of having a mate again and once he did he was even more paranoid; making sure he knew where you were traveling to, who you were talking to, what your plans were, that your weapons were sharp and in the best condition, that your armor was intact. He had loosened up and a lot of these but he had been so hurt by Astrid betrayal you knew this was just what he needed to do to allow himself to be open to you yet still protect himself and you.

He laid you carefully on the bed and then laid next to you allowing you to position yourself against him comfortably without hurting yourseld further. "I know you will, I know you'll always protect me when I need it." He grunted in response before burying his face in your neck again.

"You're not leaving this sanctuary again until your wounds are completely healed...and even then I might not let you." You huff a laugh starting to feel drowsy from everything that had happened the last two days.

"Yes, love."

Lydia

Lydia let out a grunt as she helps slide down the wall to sit on the ground outside of the cave the two of you had just explored. Neither of you had expected the cave to be full of vampires however once you discovered it was you had been determined not to leave until you had cleared it out as it was so close to Morthal.

The two of you had gotten most of them taken care of when a gargoyle popped out and surprised you both. Its claws got a good cut in across both your legs and while you had managed to kill it you were definitely not walking very well by the time you had made it back to the entrance, needing Lydia to help you limp your way out.

"Here my love, rest here while I see if I have a healing potion or bandages." She digs through her bag managing to find a small healing potion and a few rags to cut up for bandages. Offering you the potion she cuts the rags into strips before carefully bandaging your legs.

"You'll need to rest here for a day before you'll be strong enough to reach Morthal. That potion was enough to heal your legs so you don't bleed out but you need to build up some strength. Wait here, I'm going to grab some firewood before it gets dark." When you nod in response she leaves for several minutes before returning with some wood. She sets up the fire before lighting it and then moves toward you. She removes her leg armor and sets it aside to help you lay down with your head in her lap.

"Thank you Lydia, you really were my shield in there. I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you." You smile up at her, legs feeling numb from the potion working its magic. She gives you a smile running her fingers through your hair as you close your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment.

"Of course, you're not just my thane, you're my love. I would do anything to protect you, even lay down my own life for yours." You bring a hand up to stroke her cheek and she takes it in hers giving it a soft kiss.

"Let's hope it never comes to that dear, after all, someone needs to go home to the kids."

#skyrim men #farkas #brynjolf #arnbjorn #skyrim #aela the huntress #lydia #skyrim fandom #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim headcanon

[coffee-at-daybreak]

burning | vilkas x reader

this is very enemies to lovers-esque, i find that trope fitting for vilkas. there is some mild steam thrown in but nothing too suggestive. im just very sick and sleepless rn so i had to crank something out to keep me sane :} hope you guys like it!

"You got lucky this time," you say as you finally finish wrapping the gauze around Farkas's hand. "That sword could have cut much deeper."

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing we've got you on standby," he responds gruffly, flexing his palm. The dusky white bandage sits firmly against his skin. He gives you a wide grin. "Thank you, Harbinger."

You nod. "You're welcome. Just... don't make it a habit, yeah?"

Farkas chuckles. "Course. I'll be more careful. See you." He turns and heads back to the training field outside of Jorrvaskr, where he joins Ria's side as they watch Athis and Torvar engage in a practice sparring session. The approaching dusk is bringing a chill to the air, yet the Companions continue their training like nothing.

As you gather the materials you were just using to patch up Farkas's hand, you feel a tingling sensation crawling along your scalp. Someone's glare is practically digging daggers into your skin. You turn around to make your way back into the building, and you lock eyes with Vilkas, who stands next to the door with his back leaning against the wall and his arms folded across his chest.

His gaze reminds you of being hit with an ice spike spell: shards of piercing, pale blue striking right through you and leaving you momentarily breathless. You break eye contact, but the prickling feeling of his eyes on you follows you even when you slip through the door and into the building.

You head for one of the shelves in the corner to put away the bandages and anti-infection salves you used. You hear footsteps coming in behind you.

"How'd he hurt himself this time?" Vilkas asks.

You peer at him over your shoulder. His gaze is averted, pretending to adjust the rug on the floor with his boot. Not so glare-y now, is he?

"It was a sword, from his spar session with Njada." You step away from the shelf and brush past him as you head for the staircase leading into the living quarters below. "She's getting better. She gave him a pretty nasty cut this time."

Vilkas scoffs. "Didn't look nasty enough to need you there working on him for that long."

You stop in your tracks and whip around. This time, his eyes flick up to meet yours. The tingling sensation returns to your skin, except now, it spreads beyond just your head, running down your spine.

"Excuse me?" You cross your arms. "He was hurt, and I knew how to patch it up quick."

"Yes, so does Tilma," Vilkas protests, referring to the elderly servant who is often around tending to the Companions. He tilts his head, eyeing you intently. "Yet you always seem eager to step up first."

Heat floods the tips of your ears. "I'm the Harbinger. Part of my job is looking after the others."

"Yes, yes, I'm not denying that." The Nord waves his hand loosely. "Just pointing it out. This is the third time this has happened, you know?"

You snort. "What, you're keeping track now?" You narrow your eyes. "Hang on. You're jealous."

The eye roll you get in return is equal parts infuriating and attractive. "Please. Don't be childish," he mutters.

You ignore him and play the dangerous game of poking him further. "You know you can get yourself hurt around me, too." You crack a super sweet, super fake smile. "If you ask nicely, I might patch you up."

"I would rather bleed out and die, thank you."

You shake your head, looking away in exasperation. That has to be the cause for your heart rate rising and your temperature climbing. He is exasperating.

"I'm just looking out for him," Vilkas speaks up. When you glance at him, you realize he has stepped closer. You stare back at his storm-colored eyes, as intimidating as they are. "I don't want him making the mistake of getting tangled up with you."

You almost laugh at that, and bite your lip to keep from smiling. Vilkas's eyes dart down for just a second before meeting your own. You try to pretend like that gesture doesn't make your heart skitter.

"Give him some credit, he's smarter than that," you say. "He's just a friend. Not that you know what that is, you ray of sunshine, you."

His jaw clenches, and you watch the muscles of his neck flex as he swallows. Whatever insult he had ready, he thought better of it. A rush of victory swells in your chest.

But you see a flicker of something in his eyes, and there's a sinking sensation in your belly. Amongst the hard, icy emotions of that glare, there's something much softer. Something vulnerable, something you can't pinpoint but you recognize all the same, because it's something you've felt as well.

This is how it's been for a long time, too damn long. You hide behind your quips and your insults because you're afraid to face reality. The heavy, heart-wrenching reality that you have feelings for each other. To everyone else, it looks like you hate each other, when really, you hate how much you love each other.

"It's hard to be a ray of sunshine when you're a godsforsaken pain in my ass," Vilkas growls, and takes another step closer.

You should step back, you should. But the proximity of his body near yours traps you in place, and eventually, draws you in. You dare to lean closer.

"Well, I would stop, if it wasn't oddly entertaining," you murmur. "You are easy to rile up."

"You haven't seen me truly riled up."

The eye contact is searing your skin and blood, yet you don't dare break it. The voice in your mind is now screaming at you - back away, push him away, just move.

But there is also a voice telling you to grab him, to pull into him, to surrender. It takes all the effort in the world to resist.

"Not yet, maybe," you jab. "How do I get there? Do I have to patch up more muscular men?"

"Shut up," he warns, a hiss through his teeth.

"Or should I head to the inn and-"

You don't even get to finish your incessant babbling before his hand reaches for the back of your neck. You don't flinch - in fact, you let him pull you in and crash his lips against your own.

It's exactly as you imagined it, which embarrassingly, you did a lot. It's rough and firm and electrifying. His breath is hot as it mingles with your own, his stubble scraping the skin around your mouth. Your hands subconsciously claw at his torso, pulling him as close as you can, until you feel his chest against your own, drawing in the same heavy breaths that you are. His free hand grasps your hip, and your breath hitches briefly before he is plunging back in with a kiss so hard that his teeth skim over your bottom lip.

There is that hot, searing fire you always feel around him, coursing through your entire being. Burning hatred, burning desire. No difference right now, just one overwhelming inferno.

Muffled voices and laughter approach the doors a few feet away from you. Just as quickly as it happened, Vilkas lets you go. He steps back in two long strides just as the door opens.

Ria was busy giggling at something Torvar said, but she is quick to notice the tension in the room. "Woah. What's going on?" She looks between you and Vilkas. "You two look like you're about to kill each other."

You can't come up with a reasonable response, not when you're still trying to catch your breath, when your lips are still tingling with sparks and your mind is still in a white-hot daze. All you can do for a second is foolishly stare at Vilkas.

He glares back at you. Icy eyes that don't cool you down, but only make you feel warmer.

"Just a mild disagreement," he says, looking to Ria with surprising calm. Then he looks back at you. "But we'll settle it later."

Then he turns and walks away, like nothing happened. You almost huff out a breath of awe.

The other Companions pile in, chattering excitedly and ready to start preparing for dinner. You finally manage to move, your legs still feeling a little unsteady, but you try to help the others anyway, and try to keep hating him, even though now you think you love him more than ever.

#skyrim #elder scrolls #tesv #dragonborn #vilkas #reader insert #tes #dovahkiin #elder scrolls skyrim #fanfic #gender neutral reader

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday (1/24)

For Chapter 22 of Best-Laid Plans - Miranja and Athis getting better acquainted.

I haven't written much in the last month. Barely picking at this chapter. Haven't drawn anything since Christmas. Long slump. Winter feels like a time for looking inward, coming up with ideas, germinating. I hope to have some things rolling - downhill, with momentum - by spring. In the meantime, here's part of a scene that's taken me weeks to grind out. Tagging my friends, but no obligation to read or share something if you're not inclined. @dirty-bosmer @guarmommy @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

As they took adjacent seats at the table, Miranja commented, “You know, I’ve been all over Skyrim, and I’ve noticed that there are only a few cities where Dunmer live. Winterhold, where the college was once well populated with Dunmer, but now there are only a few left. Windhelm – ” Here Athis briefly interrupted her with a derisive snort. “ – where the Dunmer live and work but are treated as second-class citizens. Riften, where the Dunmer live and work alongside everyone else, including Argonians, and everyone but Khajiit are accepted with open arms. And here, where you and Irileth are esteemed members of society.”

“So what’s your point?” Athis asked, washing down his bread and cheese with a swig from his bottle of ale.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just being silly. Please don’t take this as condescending; it’s really not. I just feel rather proud of you for making a name for yourself in this mostly prejudiced province. I mean, I respect you.” She turned to look him directly in the eyes. “Also, you’re the only Dunmer I know, besides Irileth, who’s an actual warrior. It takes a different kind of strength and courage to be a warrior. I didn’t come here to be a warrior; I came here to be a mage. But I’ve felt obligated to become one since learning I was Dragonborn and that Alduin has returned. I’ve always been just a girl, and now everyone sees me as the savior of Skyrim. Of all Tamriel, even.”

She was, to an extent, fishing for sympathy and comfort, but Athis was oblivious to her hinting and was not inclined to coddle her even if he had noticed. “Well,” he said, “you’re in the right place if you’re looking for ‘elp in becoming a better warrior. We all ‘ave our specialties here. Farkas can teach you about two-handed weapons, Vilkas is good wif heavy armor, Njada earned the name Stone-Arm because she’s great wiv a shield – but don’t tell ‘er I said that.”

Miranja smiled wryly, remembering the first time she’d entered Jorrvaskr and witnessed his maybe-not-so-friendly spar with Njada. She’d been humiliated right along with him, but she hadn’t even known his name yet and she hadn’t wanted to say or do anything to embarrass him. Now that she had him talking, though, she had to satisfy her curiosity.

“What is the deal with you and Njada? I don’t know if you remember, but I happened to come in here for the first time just as you and Njada were ‘discussing your differences.’”

“I knew you looked familiar. Yes, now that I think about it… you asked my name, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and you told me. Then it seems you promptly forgot about me,” she ribbed. “But I remembered you.”

“Well, I was a bit preoccupied, if you’ll recall,” Athis replied defensively.

“It’s okay, Athis. I’m just teasing you. So…?”

“So, she’s got this ‘strong Nord woman’ attitude. If you’ve ever ‘eard Olfina Grey-Mane goin’ on about that, it’s because they’re friends. Njada can beat any man at Jorrvaskr in a fight – except Farkas, the big brawny s’wit. And I say that in the most loving o’ ways. Nord or not, he’s treated me like a brother since the day I joined. Anyway, it’s a superiority thing for ‘er. She likes to test everyone - and 'erself - about once a month. You just ‘appened to walk in on me getting my turn.”

“Ahh, so you’re saying that if I hang around here enough, I can expect her to do the same to me.”

“Exactly.”

They ate their fill, Miranja glancing stealthily at Athis every few moments, watching what he chose to eat, how his used his hands, listening to the sounds he made as he ate and replenished his body.

Something about sharing food and eating together seemed intimate to her; not just with Athis, but with anyone. Sometimes, food was scarce and hard-won, and the act of sharing it was generosity at its finest, helping others to survive, stoking their life force. This wasn’t one of those times of scarcity, but Miranja still enjoyed sharing meals with people whether she was on the giving or the receiving end of the deal. She’d shared the idea of the intimacy of sharing food with her parents once. They’d been surprised and intrigued by her point of view, and wondered, as they had many times before about some of her other ideas, how she’d reached that conclusion. She knew she was odd, but she didn’t care, when her ideas were pleasing to her.

#skyrim #elder scrolls #tesblr #miranja #athis #fanfic #ao3 #dunmer #tes #tanithia writes #wip wednesday

[the-sunlit-earth]

@babyblueetbaemonster    here is my fanart tribute scenario to your lovable, adorable Dragonborns who have brought me much joy and so many laughs! I love your mind and the shenanigans you always cook up for them! 💖🤗

Bonus scene below!

Epilogue

Jokir and Naythaa are winding down in a tavern after a long day of showing their new friend around, who has already fallen asleep in a chair in the corner. Despite a nearby bard's close proximity, Miraak slumbers peacefully through the noise, a fact that doesn't escape the other Dragonborns' notice.

"Hah! Snoring away like a baby," Jokir chuckles softly. "Must be pretty tired if he can sleep through all that."

"I'm glad he feels safe enough to do so," Naythaa points out, the dunmer spellsword's features softening into a smile. "But after all that time in Apocrypha, it must be nice to be back among things like music, and singing and laughter. Maybe he's a little out of practice, but it's good to see him enjoying himself."

Jokir nods in agreement. "He's so out-of-touch with this world, after not being a part of it for so long... What we need is a 'Modern Nord Crash Course'," Jokir laughs. "I kind of feel like we have a responsibility to do right by him... but sometimes, when he asks about things that I don't know the answer to, I worry I'm letting him down," the Nord warrior frowns, folding his arms.

Naythaa ponders for a moment before her eyes light up. "Hey! Let's take him home to Farkas! Between him and the other Companions, Miraak will be caught up in no time!"

Jokir beams happily. "I love that idea! Farkas is great with kids, and patient with newbies! And you know what they say, it takes a village to raise a child. With all of us guiding him, he'll fit right in!"

With that decided, the two Dragonborn gently wake their companion and head upstairs to the room they've rented for the night. There is only one bed, but it goes unused, as Miraak promptly curls up like a cat upon the fur rug, Jokir and Naythaa doing the same, and everyone enjoys a peaceful, Mora-free sleep.

Sweet Dreams, Dragonborns!

END

#elder scrolls #skyrim #Dragonborn #Miraak #my friend's beloved OCs! : Jokir and Naythaa! :D #dunmer #nord #sorry for anything super weird like dialogue haha! hope you can still like it! :) #maybe Jokir is influenced by all those movies he watches with the kids #his speechcraft is leveling as he tries talking his enemies into becoming friends :D #it would work on me haha! i would give up my villainous ways if these two approached me #i love when your characters all hang out together so i thought Miraak might enjoy it too! poor guy has a rough time in Apocrypha.. #he's just a poor little meow meow #hence Mora leaving him cat food in the 4th pic #he buys it in bulk at Costco :') #my art #my posts

[argisthebulwark]

How senseless death, how precious life

summary: Losing you would hurt enough, but being the cause of your demise would ruin him. gn reader, no y/n or pronouns used. original request here! feat: Cicero, Miraak, Brynjolf, Farkas warnings: explicit depiction of death, grief, and canon typical blood/injury.

Once the fog lifts, Cicero is left with silence. Blood still thrumming with the thrill of violence he begins searching, desperate to find his Listener. Surely you would be looking for him too, right? After battling so many assassins you would want to check on your Keeper, always so eager to bandage his wounds. Knife in hand Cicero hurries through the Sanctuary, once bustling areas reduced to deadly silence. Leaping over the bodies of fallen assassins he pauses, mind slowly clearing from the bleary red haze of bloodlust as he faces what he'd done. Your body's slumped over the desk you’d spend so many hours hiding behind. Staring at your back he relives the many times you’ve dozed off while working, the way you snuggled into your beloved Keeper as he whisked you off to bed. Cicero’s numb fingers quiver around the blade that had so carelessly taken your life. His knees smack against the stone floor, horrified shrieks echoing along stone walls. Choking on guilt he prods at you, begging you to come back to him. The dagger clatters to his side as poor Cicero realizes that once again he is alone in the world.

Miraak fights it. He would tear the world apart if it would free him from that damned prophecy. Gods, he's tried - exhausting every option and tearing through every text he’s gotten his hands on. For ages he’s fought back against the destiny leading him to this dreadful place, your body clutched in his arms. Your skin’s still warm against his, blades thrown aside and mask forgotten. Your arm is limp around his shoulders and the last words you would ever speak ring through his mind - 'there is no other option.' He can’t breathe. Miraak is sure all air has vanished from his world. For years he’s fought against this inevitable end, believing that together you could overcome destiny. Cradling you so delicately in his arms he breaks, mind numbed to his reality as his body trembles with each sob. Miraak vows revenge against the cruel world that ripped you away from him, the last shred of his humanity dying with you. 

Grief is crushing, a never ending weight that Brynjolf carries with him. He is granted no reprieve from the memories of you - the smile you flashed before leaving the Cistern, your fingers combing along his scalp as you braided back his hair, the haunting echoes of your scream when his blade pierced armor. Rationally he knows it was Mercer’s spell that had forced his hand to move, gripping his mind and his muscles without his consent, but the guilt never ceases.  He’d thought that killing Mercer would help but the grief only deepened, the hole in his chest ragged and painful. His hands grow cold without yours there to warm it, your pillows clutched to his chest when he eventually rests. He grows reserved, adrift in his grief. Your grave overflows with flowers where it stands guard outside the Cistern's entrance yet Brynjolf cannot face it. Seeing your headstone reminds him of each terrible step he took back to Riften, the heft of your body in his arms as he brought you home one final time. Distance grows between him and his fellow thieves. He is tethered only by his undying sense of duty. You’d died for the Guild and he vowed to keep it afloat if only to honor you. Time does not heal all wounds, Brynjolf can attest to this as he will mourn you until his last breath. 

Ever ready for a good fight, Farkas bounds through the battlefield searching for you. In a daze and clinging to the scraps of clothes wrecked by transformation he hurries, trying to locate your scent through the metallic haze dampening the grove. He only lost track of you for a moment during the battle, the beast blood too enticing for him to remain entirely focused. It’s happened before, he reasons - your spellcasting ability has never failed to keep you safe. He’s already planning the meal you’ll share as a treat when he stumbles across you.  Blood stains robes he’d tied so carefully only hours ago. The warmth of joy leeches out of his body, leaving him a silent shell as he kneels before you. Gathering your body so delicately Farkas searches for the pulse he knows he will not find. Tears leak down his cheeks as he silently carries you home, cradling you to his chest with each step. Farkas would never forgive himself for losing focus. He would grow to resent the beast he’d once lived in harmony with, forever chastising himself for his carelessness. 

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #x reader fanfic #writing #cicero #brynjolf #miraak #farkas

[wolfbrawn]

For all his size and strength, Farkas is at the bottom of the Circle’s dominance hierarchy.  Even within the wider faction, there are Companions bold enough to put him down, and seem to do so without consequence. This is despite Farkas’ assertion that: “Some people don’t think I’m smart. Those people get my fist.”

We never see Farkas push back, not physically, not verbally.  Although he is frequently belittled by his comrades, he speaks kindly to and of them.  This is despite the fact that he and Vilkas were the youngest candidates to be granted the honour of becoming Companions.  I think it’s important to remember that Farkas has a proven record of serving the faction well and with honour, to the extent that he has been elevated to the Circle and gifted lycanthropy. Some interactions for context:

Skjor: “Farkas!” Farkas: “Did you call me?” Aela: “Of course we did, icebrain. Show this newblood where the rest of the whelps sleep.” Farkas: “Relax, newblood.” Torvar: “I’ve been hunting on my own for years.” Farkas: “Fighting people is different. Smarter.” Torvar: “Some of ‘em, anyway.” Farkas: “You only use the little swords.” Athis: “It’s called a shortsword, you oaf. It’s quicker. Sharper. And it can cut through a whale like a razor.”

It isn’t simply external.  Farkas himself has absorbed these opinions and is quick to defer to others. There is even a submissive element:

Farkas: “I’ve never been a smart one. But the Companions welcome anyone with the heart of a warrior.” Farkas: “My brother Vilkas is a better talker than me. He should be around someplace.” Farkas: “Too confusing for me. Empire, Nords, Talos. Who cares? Just tell me who needs bludgeoning.” Farkas: “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me. I do what I’m told.” Farkas: “You go if you want to. I’ve never seen bones this large, and want to make sure I remember them so I can tell the story right. Otherwise Vilkas will just say I was making it up.” Farkas: “I don’t like making him [Skjor] angry, but there is some work for you if you want it.” Farkas: “Aela said that you were hers. I don’t know what she meant… she scares me.”

Vilkas, at least, is openly fond of his brother, though he too makes mention of Farkas’ perceived low intelligence – “I love my brother, but his brains are not his strong suit” – and on one occasion, he appears to gently redirect his twin during a group discussion:

Aela: “And you avenged him.” Farkas: “Kodlak did not care for vengeance.” Vilkas: “No, Farkas, he didn’t. And that’s not what this is about.”

It is Kodlak’s journal that we see more positive descriptors applied to Farkas.  The harbinger writes:

Until we can pursue a true cure, the twins and I have chosen not to give in to the beastblood.  For me, it’s provided a clearer head, but Vilkas seems to be suffering a bit for it.  Farkas seems completely untroubled.  That boy continues to amaze with his fortitude. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted.

But the journal also hints at Farkas being easily influenced, his tendency to follow his brother:

Farkas didn’t know what to think, but I believe he will come around with me and his brother eventually.  He usually does.

I do feel Vilkas is the first person Farkas turns to, that he follows his brother’s lead almost blindly – which undoubtedly puts pressure on Vilkas.  He trusts his twin to do the thinking for them both, to explain matters to him in a way he can understand:

Farkas: “He [Skjor] was the one I looked up to. I need to find my brother.” Farkas: “Vilkas says you’re the new Kodlak. I don’t know what that means, but you seem honourable, so that’s good.”

My perspective:  Farkas is someone who has been belittled over the long course of years, picked at like a wound until he has learned to make himself smaller, more pliable.  It is an insidious part of the culture of the Companions, and it likely started in the days of his boyhood – next to his academically brilliant and deep-thinking brother, Farkas was seen as lacklustre, witless. Like @hircineswrath, I believe Arnbjorn would have given both twins a hard time.  Furthermore, new recruits learn from established members that Farkas can serve as a verbal punching bag, that he will still think highly of those who demean him, because he considers them family, and he sees the best in everyone: “Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people.”

Farkas is simply wired differently.  My interpretation is that he is a kinesthetic learner, and in modern settings he would be identified as dyslexic, possibly even as having ADHD.  In Skyrim, a medieval-esque society that doesn’t understand neurodiversity, he gets branded as an oaf, and icebrain, a fool.  Persistently told that he is these things, he begins to believe it.  Why else is one of his primary skills speech, and yet he rarely uses his voice?  He may not be eloquent, but he is emotionally intelligent and able to see straight to the heart of matters.  And through it all, he remains kind.

#tl;dr farkas is himbo coded but he's also so much more than that #✶ headcanon — a wolf when the wolfbane blooms

[ronkeyroo]

little vilkas & Farkas things I like/witnessed while adventuring through skyrim with their dumb ass:

Vilkas screaming his fucking ASS off whenever he spots a dragon

VILKAS NOT SUPPORTING ME IN FISTFIGHTS, DOUBTING MY SKILLS AND “BETTING ON THE BIG GUY”

Vilkas humming to himself (I love you)

 Farkas occasionally sniffing at you like the big silly wolf he is

“Hey-! That..That feels good!” When healing Farkas with restoration magic!!!

Stripping my dragonborn naked just to mess around with Farkas and listening to him reply: “Hey....You’re naked. Let me join you.” and proceeding to explode from the inside

Vilkas mentioning his childhood/sharing his wisdom when we enter/explore funky-ass locations 🥺

Farkas, dangerously threatening enemies with “You touch my family, you die.”

Farkas complimenting my dovahkin after impressive onehost kills saying “My womans an artist, that, she is”.

Vilkas complaining about silly shit and criticizing bad architecture

Vilkas’ “ If you need ANYTHING, Let, me know.”

Farkas every time I bring him somewhere beautiful; “Thats....Thats wow.”

Vilkas panicking @ Player’s death muttering “No nonono this cant be happening!” and Farkas yelling; “What?! NO!!” /// *clenches chest*

“oh its good to see you again, dear”

“ Hey, Love”

SCREAMS IN WEREWOLF

#its the little things that get me #we dont have alot of them ingame already so those interactions are so...bless #farkas #vilkas #skyrim #tes #the companions #Jorrvaskr #wolf twins #theyre too precious #please feel free to add your interactions too i LOVE THESE BOIS SO MUCH

[dovahkinniez]

this is an absolutely, shamelessly feral idea- but i hope you’re up for writing submissive, bound farkas in sexual denial 😇

+ no pressure to write it ofc if u don’t like writing for submissive guys!

i saw another fic by someone else with the trope of farkas gone feral from his wolf blood, and asked to be bound down to his bed to try and calm himself, he wears a muzzle that muffles his speech and secretly wears a chastity belt underneath 👀 And so i thought up this continuation of the trope and was hoping you’d write it for me (istg ur work is so good i have like it all archived) Btw the fic is called Wolfs Blood I'm pretty sure.

maybe it would be his wolf blood acting up that made him not realize his internal desires, how he actually wanted to be in this situation for sexual pleasure rather than to calm himself, but he slipped up. being bound to his bed, unable to tell anyone to release him, muzzled and strained by his chastity belt? It would be so unlucky for him to be especially horny and turned on that night. such a pitiful sight for him to be effortlessly struggling in his binds, hot breath escaping his muzzle, demeanor cracking. DESPERATELY trying to release his core from its prison; but just simply can’t. And so effortlessly turned on from the fact that he can't. maybe the reader (who farkas def has a wild crush on at the time) would be the only one awake at that time, only one hearing the grunts and near silent wails from the other room, the only one to investigate it, opening the door to such a sight 😳

being so clouded by desperation and denial, embarrassment and self control completely subsided him as an affect of his heightened wolfs blood making him so honest; he would beg the reader to help him through muffled words. He would have meant for them to release him, to take off his muzzle even- but the reader would have other (consensual) plans, determined not to lose this opportunity to make the oh so strong farkas SOB.

( I honestly didn't plan on making the trope so descriptive but I think I had a little too much fun- still dont really know how you're supposed to request things here.. Nevertheless id b so happy if u could use it 2 make a smut or something. If u don't want to, that's completely okay!!!!!)

` 𖤓 . . . FARKAS.

First of all, thank you so very much for the compliment! I love seeing you guys tell me you like my writing, like fr makes me so happy.

(18+) I did do a semi sub! farkas fic not long back, but it just didn't involve kink, so maybe you'd also like to read that if you haven't. But as I said, it wasn't sub sub, ya get me? Idk. ANYWAY! Yes, submissive men >>>. Gotta love em, I just don't write it out a lot due to the fact most people like them dom (tell me if I'm wrong). So hell, yeah. I love this idea, and the idea from the fic you told me about (I haven't ever read it though). But I have once read a few anime character fics that work along the same lines so I am familiar with the whole 'in a rut and can't control self' thing, and I love it. :D

So credits to the op who wrote that fic, I don't want to steal that person's idea, of course.

I will try and make this as gender neutral as possible, but there may be mentions of a female bodied reader, I'm sorry if I do and that makes you feel uncomfortable, I adore you all. And enjoy!

18+ only! Sexual content ahead, minors dni!!

Hours. That's what it felt like. Fingertips burning as he tugs at the restrains, trying to find some release. It's not working. Eyes glazed over with frustration and desire, his blood is burning through his skin, he's counting down the hours until this...curse...wares off. Hoping the ache in his body subsides, so he can feel normal again. The ceiling grows misty from his lack of vision as he pushes his hips up, feeling the metal of the chastity belt rub against his needy flesh.

Gods, he needed release.

Whining and grunting as he aims to gain as much friction as possible yet it isn't enough. Feeling the hardness of his cock strain against the solid metal stings as it grows tighter against his skin, fuck it hurts.

Asking to be restrained but a few hours ago he didn't expect to feel this worked up already, he knew it'd be bad but not this fast. He feels his body changing each rut he falls into and since meeting... someone. He's noticed his desires increase until it hurts, now he's completely feral as he attempts to grind his restrained cock against the belt, all while thinking of you.

He wants you so fucking bad its driving him crazy.

You walk back in from a night's work, shaking the adrenaline off your limbs; wiping blood from your face with your hand, which is smeared in just as much blood. Cringing at the taste of the blood you make you way into the sleeping quarters, it's silent. Not wanting to make noise you creep around, hearing noise from Farkas' room you freeze slightly, hoping maybe he could help you with some clothes as you didn't want to wake anyone up making a ruckus to get a change of clean clothing.

This had became a routine, as Farkas stayed up late at night he became the person you'd go to if you needed anything after a late night job. In reality the night time was the only time you had Farkas to yourself, enjoying his company uninterrupted and without eyes watching, where you could be yourselves. You found Farkas more comfortable in speaking around this time.

Slowly opening the door the heat hits you, taking your breath slightly at the sheer temperature in the room, Farkas felt you by the door. He could smell you and the blood that coated your form, biting down onto his bottom lip as he pulls on the restraints until it burned at his skin.

"Y/n.." By Dibella. His deep voice broke out into a cry of desperation, the sight took you by complete surprise yet something in the air compelled you to shut the door behind you, watching him closely as he moves his body on the bed, in an attempt to try and get you.

Walking closer you take in the details, feeling the arousal seep through your veins, it was intoxicating as the heat from his body radiated through the entire room. "S-Stop..." "Stop what?" You reply as you watch the sweat on his heaving chest, the way his stomach sucks in as you grow closer, how his back arches, his thighs cling together, tight and muscular. "You're making it worse." He barely growls out, whines passing his mouth as he falls back, watching you with dozy eyes. "Do you need help, puppy?" "Don't tease me." Inside he was begging, pleading and the way his hips push up tells you exactly just that.

Smirking, you begin to realise the power you hold in this situation. He's ready, hot and looking at you with needy eyes, all for you to play with. He notices your smirk, the way you snake your way onto the bed, watching his body as he shakes from not only the rut but now you too. He's always wanted this.

He just didn't realise how badly.

Slowly taking off your armour, he watches with bated breath. "Tell me, do you need help?" You ask again, he watches the blood drip across your naked form as you take ahold of his legs, parting them between you as he lifts himself up, he could cum alone at the sight and smell of you.

"Y/n-" "Farkas. Yes or no. Do you need help?" You cut him off, eyes sharp as he gulps with a nod, "Use your voice, puppy." You smile gently, almost innocently as you rub your hands up his muscular thighs, tugging at the straps of the belt he wiggles his hips up, wanting to be freed.

"Yes. Please. F-Fuck." He hums out, his lip almost bloody from biting down. "I need you-" Farkas whimpers out as you lean up, running your hands across his body, squeezing at his muscles and his neck as he pushes his head back, "Fuck. Me ... Please." He chokes out between breaths as you giggle while licking and kissing against his abs and v-line. "Patience, puppy." He had none. He had been wanting, needing and waiting for too long. He needed release.

You knew this. You decided to take advantage of it instead. So cruel.

"I can't-" "Ah-Ah." You smack his thigh, Farkas mutters a shy sorry, causing you to smile against his skin, "Good boy." Fuck. He felt whatever blood left up shoot right down, his cock pressing against the belt and he swore it felt as if it were bleeding from the pain. Whimpering as he attempts to close his legs, you slap his thigh again, grabbing at the hot flesh as he takes a deep breath in.

Biting and licking against his neck, bruises litter across the skin, you lick up his neck as he moans out, your fingers tangled through the raven locks of his hair as Farkas hangs his head back, like putty in your hand he follows each movement and each motion you make. Hot and sweaty under you, his body laid out ready to be fucked as he whines each time you make eye contact in a desperate attempt for more.

"You're so impatient." You hum out. He only whines more. "Do you want me to suck your cock?" You ask, he moans out, feeling his dick twitch against the metal desperately for your mouth. You laugh out, looking at him as if he were weak and pathetic and fuck, he loved it.

Slowly taking the chastity belt off you pepper kisses along his torso, releasing his cock as it slaps against his stomach, hot and heavy, tip leaking and angrily red.

You couldn't help but laugh, leaning back and simply watch him as his hips jolt, his cock twitching with need. "Please." "Patience." You shush him, running your finger across his thigh, until it reaches to his ballsack, using your hands you tug and gently massage, he grits his teeth, his cock bobbing with anticipation and all you do is watch, eyes low and glued to his face as he watches with a helpless expression, panting for more. Rubbing your hand up to his cock, feeling each vein and the wetness that formed a string from the tip to his stomach, you form a fist around him, slowly pumping, watching his dick swallow your hand as he let's out groans and whines. Fuck, he sounds hot.

You wish to stay there longer, but your mouth waters at the sight and the sounds before you, but it didn't matter how fast leaned down to move your mouth because to poor Farkas it felt hours before he noticed you slowly lean down to lick the tip, gathering the precum on your tongue before you slowly take him I'm your mouth, your jaw expanding until it hurt due to the thickness he bared. "Ohhhhhh ..... Fuck yeah." He breathed out, louder than he expected. Biting down on his bottom lip to mask his moans and to mirror the pain you were causing in his thighs as you dig your fingernails into them, gripping tightly while trying to fit more of him inside your mouth.

It almost felt impossible, too big. Poor puppy is too large for his own good yet he shakes and moans just as well while you lick and press your tongue against him, sucking and licking while making all sorts of ungodly sounds, Farkas listens and forces his own sounds to quieten as he rolls his eyes back, leaning back onto the bed. Arching his head back as you wrap your hands around him, pumping him while focusing your sweet mouth on his weeping tip. Farkas moans like the good boy he is, "Please... I need to come.." He begs, as you rub and fist the saliva that oozed out your mouth and down his shaft.

Tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer size of the man, yet his tears where from pure frustration as you fuck his cock with your pretty mouth and skilled hands. "Cum for me, puppy. Be a good boy." You say lowly, he whimpers and arches his back as he pulls on the restraints. "Fuck - fuck." He grunts as you bob your head up and down, hands rub and please his cock and his balls as your mouth licks and sucks until you feel him pulsating, squirting cum onto your tongue as you groan, you mouth rumbling against him as you tilts your head, licking and sucking down the edges on him, licking at the oozing cum as he continues to moan out like the whore he is, thighs clenched into stone until he gives way, limp and sweaty, whimpering breathlessly as you clean him up with your tongue.

"Gods. I'm not finished." Tonight was going to be a long night. Good job you haven't fucked yourself on him yet.

#skyrim x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim headcanon #skyrim scenarios #skyrim x dovahkiin #elder scrolls skyrim #skyrim #elder scrolls #farkas x reader #skyrim farkas x reader #farkas x dragonborn #skyrim farkas #farkas