#brynjolf smut

[accio-peach]

“what did I fucking say about putting yourself in close call situations, lass?” Brynjolf growled as he pressed you against a tree after fleeing a bandit camp he specifically told you not to raid.

“what’s life without a bit of risk?” You struggled to hide your grin.

Gripping your waist, he pulled you flush against his chest, pressing his lips firmly into yours. Mumbling against your lips, “the risk isn’t worth it when your life is on the line, you greedy brat.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Lavender: Part One

Brynjolf x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): second chances, past relationship, angst, kidnapping, denial of feelings, referenced harassment (non-graphic), suggestive themes

Word Count: 6.2k

Working as a lady's maid to Jarl Laila Law-Giver is supposed to provide you peace and a steady income, but your old life is quickly catching up to you. An old flame comes knocking, bringing you flowers and reminding you of the affection you've missed. Do you keep running? Or do you finally face the future you've always wanted but fear you'll lose again?

Part Two

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

The dawn has not yet risen. It is near, but there is still time yet before the sun’s warm glow breaks the horizon. Sunrises in Skyrim are your favorite. It is one of the reasons why you greet the day so early.

From your apron, you withdraw two tiny bundles wrapped in simple beige cloth. It is not much, but it is good to give something to the gods whenever you visit a shrine. Even a simple prayer is a gift, but today you have more than just your voice.

Before you is a Shrine of Talos, located against Riften’s eastern wall. The shrine is slightly secluded and situated in a curved corner near Mistveil Keep and Black-Briar Manor. To your left is a small graveyard that backs up to the Hall of the Dead and the Temple of Mara. Other than an occasional guardsman that walks past, there is no one else around.

It is quiet. Peaceful. Just as it always is at this hour.

Behind the shrine is a statue of Talos himself. He towers over you, helmeted head slightly bent as if he too is in prayer. Trees with golden leaves create a half-circle around the back and sides of the shrine. At your feet, near the stone base, are little flowers springing forth from the ground.

Warmer weather is coming, and they are reaching out to seek it.

Unwrapping one bundle, you gently retrieve three gold coins. From there, you deposit the gold coins into the small silver bowl before the shrine. They clink softly in the subdued dark. The candles surrounding the shrine burn low, their stunted, melted bodies showing their use.

From the other bundle, you carefully remove a small handful of flowers, placing those in the bowl next to the gold coins. Your offerings do not amount to much, but it is all you can spare.

While working at Mistveil Keep for Jarl Laila Law-Giver has given you job security, the pay isn’t nearly as good as you originally believed it to be. Most of what you earn is used to feed, clothe, and house yourself. While Mistveil Keep provides all this, a portion of your earnings is still taken as a small fee to cover those costs. When you first accepted the job, the fee didn’t bother you because that practice is standard across all Jarl residences.

But once you received your first earnings, you realized quickly how little ended up in your hands. You always save just a few gold coins for yourself. The rest is sent away to your ailing mother and cranky aunt who are far from Riften.

Although you have little, you always make the effort to leave offerings at Talos’ shrine. The practice is not for you, but for your father and brothers. They are no longer here, but they all perished as any Nord should, with weapon in hand. That is why you come to the shrine to pray.

You pray that they are happily feasting in Sovngarde. You pray that they at least have each other.

Standing before the shrine, you bring your clasped hands against your chest, head bent just like Talos. Your lips move silently.

When the final word is whispered, you breathe deep, and drop your hands at your sides. Glancing up, you stare at Talos’ face, admiring the craftsmanship of the sculptor’s work. It is then that you notice a change in the air.

A disturbance.

A subtle shift.

It is not the direction of the wind. It is an old sense. Ancient. Prey noticing predator.

You’re being watched.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” you say, glancing over your shoulder toward the small graveyard.

Brynjolf leans against one of the gravestones.

Even with his hood up and cowl in place, you know the shape of him. You know his body language, and the casualness that comes with it. He’s so relaxed in his leather armor. You remember when he first put that armor on. He wasn’t nearly as muscular then but that was many years ago, and now it fits him like a snug glove. Amongst the public eye, Brynjolf forgoes the armor for more luxurious fare, pretending to be something he isn’t.

But he never hides who he truly is with you.

Never.

Slowly, Brynjolf pushes off from the gravestone, strolling over with a swagger that brings a bit of heat to your cheeks.

“That’s because you know my habits, lass,” he replies, a tease in his tone that always flips your stomach.

You turn toward him fully, pushing your wanton anxiousness down until your heart is Skyforged Steel. But Brynjolf keeps walking, clearly intending to leave no space between the two of you. You do not budge from your spot, and he comes to a stop just inches away. Like this, he towers over you, invading your space.

“Why have you interrupted my morning prayer?” you ask, using every ounce of willpower not to touch him.

Brynjolf chuckles softly and the sound of it is a hammer against tempered metal. This man is going to break you down. “Is that what you were doing?”

You playfully shove at him, the instinct to touch him too much for your weak control. Brynjolf snags your wrist right out of the air. Using his grip on your arm, Brynjolf tugs you against him, pinning your wrist to him. Your free hand reflexively rises, pressing against one of the leather straps across his chest.

All you can see are his eyes. They shine like emeralds even in the dark.

“You come here almost every morning,” he murmurs.

“I do,” you snap, regaining some composure. “And you also bother me almost every morning.”

“Is that right, lass?” Brynjolf’s thumb rubs over your pulse point. The pressure sends a little shiver through your body. “Do I bother you?” He adds a bit more pressure and you inhale sharply. Brynjolf leans down like he’s about to kiss you, but he doesn’t lower the cowl. “I think you’re lying.”

You are lying. Brynjolf doesn’t bother you. Never has. The two of you are forever linked by an invisible teether.

You avoid the accusation. “Why are you here?”

Just above the lip of the cowl, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkling. He’s finding this exchange incredibly amusing.

“To give you these.” He releases your hand and takes a step back. With your wrist free, you immediately tuck your hands to your sides, his touch still lingering on your skin.

Reaching behind him, Brynjolf tugs on something and then brings it out in front of him. There are stalks of lavender and bundles of different colored flowers that grow in the mountains grasped in his fist. The bouquet is slightly squished and several of the flowers are missing petals.

“You only ever give me flowers when you want something,” you blurt, immediately regretting not thanking him instead.

Brynjolf doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t seem to mind at all that you haven’t shown gratitude.

“You know what I want,” he says softly. He transfers the flowers to one hand, and then reaches up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. It is a gentle gesture, one that pushes you toward sweet memories that seems so distant now.

You shake your head. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

He knows why. The two of you have been playing this game for years.

“My family,” you insist. That is always the excuse, and it’s a poor one, because there is so much more beneath the surface.

Brynjolf sighs but it’s not with annoyance. The two of you do this dance every time. It plays out in the same routine.

“I have contacts in Solitude,” says Brynjolf. “I can have them check on your mother.”

“My mother is fine,” you insist.

Brynjolf shifts slightly on his feet. “Do you even know if she’s alive? When did you last visit?”

You hold your head high. “I receive letters.”

“From your mother? Or your aunt?”

All your stubbornness evaporates. Your mouth turns down in a frown and your face falls. Brynjolf steps into your space again, his voice becoming a caress. “Let me help, lass.”

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Been doing well on my own.”

These last few years have entirely been on your shoulders. You’ve carried the family burden, and a Voice that you’ve kept silent since the deaths of your father and brothers.

“Have you?” Brynjolf’s voice is still gentle. He is not a soft man, but with you, he’s different. Always has been.

“Yes,” you answer, still not looking at him.

“How’s the palace? The Jarl?”

“The Jarl is fine.” You glance up at him and Brynjolf arches an eyebrow. “A good employer,” you insist.

“How much are you earning?”

“Enough.”

Brynjolf grunts, his upper body retreating slightly. He doesn’t believe you, and you don’t blame him. It really isn’t enough, but you’re not going to admit that to him. Brynjolf used to be part of your life, and no matter how much he tries to fit himself back in, you know you’ll only drag him down if you do.

He holds out the flowers to you. “Take them.”

“Give them to Talos.” You nod in the direction of the shrine.

Brynjolf laughs. “They’re for you, lass.” He bends forward a bit, whispering. “And what would the Heir to the Seat of Sundered Kings do with flowers?”

“I offered him flowers.” You indicate the small bowl next to the shrine.

“So you did, lass.” Brynjolf removes a few of the lavender stalks and tosses them into the bowl. “Talos can have those, but the rest are for you.”

Brynjolf holds the bouquet out in front of him. Reaching for them, Brynjolf’s fingers brush against your own. The contact is liquid fire, flooding through your limbs.

“Thank you. They are lovely.”

Yes, they are slightly smashed and wilted, but it is the thought that counts. Brynjolf went out of his way to pick them and bring them to you even if his motivations for doing so are completely selfish ones.

You just—you can’t let him back in, even though you long for it.

Brynjolf’s fingertips lightly graze the underside of your chin. “Turn around, lass. I need to disappear.”

You giggle, giving him your back, clutching the flowers to your chest. You lean in and inhale, eyelids closing slightly in pleasure.

The wind kicks up, and the grass rustles. You exhale and glance over your shoulder.

Brynjolf is gone.

Jarls are some of the messiest people you’ve ever met.

Perhaps it’s because they have a fleet of people constantly waiting on them. They have no reason to care about what they do because an attendant will swoop in and fix it all. Someone else will always clean up the mess.

Right now, you’re staring at chaos.

There are empty bottles of wine and Black-Briar Reserve scattered everywhere. Amongst the bottles are plates, goblets, and platters. The Jarl’s private balcony is trashed, and you’ve been left to clean it all up on your own.

It’s…fine. The quiet will be nice, and the spring air is cool compared to the heat within Mistveil Keep. You’ve been helping in the kitchens all day, and this is the first time you haven’t felt like you’ve been stuffed inside an oven.

Sighing loudly, you start piling up plates and platters. Anything that still held food is long gone, likely sent back to the kitchen to be quietly distributed amongst staff to reduce waste. Sig, one of the kitchen maids, is always taking scraps to the beggars.

Once the plates and platters are removed, you begin to clear the empty bottles and goblets, washing your hands before returning to sweep. With broom in hand, you survey the private patio.

You turn. Glance up. Stifle a scream.

Between the balcony railing and wood awning crouches a man. One hand grasps the edge of the wood awning while the other holds a bouquet of flowers.

“Brynjolf,” you hiss, quickly resting the broom against the table with the intent to approach him. “What are you doing?”

Brynjolf’s hood is up but his cowl is down, showing off the rest of his handsome face.

“Bringing you a gift,” he says simply, as if that is a perfectly logical thing to do at this exact moment.

The worst part about his sudden appearance is his smile. You adore that smile. It is a teasingly soft thing with just the slightest hint of mischievousness.

“Right now?”

He shrugs, slipping to the floor, unfurling to his full height. “Couldn’t wait.”

“By the Nine, Brynjolf,” you exclaim, raising one arm in exasperation. “Sometimes you are just an insufferable—”

Your next words are snatched from your lungs. It only takes Brynjolf two large strides to intrude into your space. You have nowhere to go, and he is right there, both hands grasping your waist.

“No comment about me wanting something, lass?” he asks with a gentle croon.

That sweet sound melts your bones. “The answer is still no,” but even you don’t believe what you say.

Brynjolf murmurs your name, his head dipping.

“We can’t. We live different lives.” At this point you’re simply making excuses.

“You were almost mine once,” he says, voice a whisper.

“We were children.”

“We were young,” he corrects, lightly squeezing your waist. “But we knew what we wanted.”

You did. He did. And then you didn’t. Everything changed and the only thing you had left in the world was your mother who couldn’t even help herself. And there was no one to help you. Not even Brynjolf.

When you don’t answer, Brynjolf rests his forehead against your own. “What can you give me?”

He asks so sweetly, and the old memories are hard to ignore. They bubble up to the surface only to sink into bone and blood, flooding you with the peacefulness you once knew with him.

You’re going to regret these next words.

“You can have a kiss.”

Brynjolf’s hold on your waist tightens. He draws you in, bodies pressed close. One hand slides slowly up your side, stopping at your throat. Brynjolf’s hand is large enough to cradle the bottom half of your cheek.

Everything in you stutters for a moment, and then Brynjolf is right there, hovering as if unsure of this offering. Maybe it is the emotion on your face or his own need moving him to action, because the distance closes and you suddenly realize just how much you missed this.

Brynjolf’s kiss is all tenderness. He doesn’t smash his mouth against yours or use too much tongue. You are lost in this, opening for him, and he takes it.

His hands fall away only to slide to the backs of your thighs. He lifts, and your arms immediately drape around the back of his neck. He brings you to rest on top of the table.

You promised him one kiss, but giving him more won’t hurt. You can give those to him.

Brynjolf’s hands slide to the tops of your thighs and then downward. With an ardent quickness, Brynjolf pushes your skirts and apron up, exposing your bare thighs to the cool air. You don’t even blink because it’s him.

His kisses deepen. Lengthen. His hands are on your bare thighs, caressing. They move up, and then one hand dips between.

His touch upon your sensitive skin makes you gasp, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, lass,” he groans. “You do miss me.”

He presses in and you moan, his mouth coming down to stifle the sound. With one hand on your upper thigh, Brynjolf drags you to the very edge of the table, slotting himself between your legs.

There is a loud clatter followed by a laugh. You both freeze, slowly easing apart but Brynjolf keeps his hand between your thighs.

You wait a beat before you speak. “You need to go.”

Slowly, achingly so, Brynjolf withdraws from your body. Almost absently, he brings that glossy finger up to his mouth. His gaze remains on the door to the Jarl’s chambers as he sucks it clean.

Only then does he turn to face you.

His face is grim like he doesn’t want to leave you out here alone.

“Go,” you insist, squeezing his upper arm. “Before you’re caught.”

That gorgeous grin of his returns in full force. He steals one more kiss before retreating to the railing. He pulls up the cowl, covering his mouth, and swings one leg over the side. He glances back once before sliding off and disappearing into the dark.

Brynjolf does not come to see you the next day or the next.

You’re not sure if somethings happened, but extended absences are not uncommon for him. You know who he is and what he does, but even you aren’t sure of the specifics. That part of his life is closed off. Only those who walk with him in the Thieves Guild completely understand. There are always the rumors you hear from others, but it doesn’t change your perception of him.

But that is not what worries you. Never has. Brynjolf can take care of himself.

It is the Jarl’s son, Harrald, that concerns you. That cretin of a man has a lingering eye, staring for far too long. The man is wholly arrogant, but he’s smart. Harrald never says anything to you in front of his mother or anyone that might report him for his poor behavior.

Instead, he watches, keeping a close eye on your every step.

His stare is like the slime scraped off the sides of ships. Nasty business, and you don’t want any part in it.

But just as Harrald has a wandering eye, he has wandering hands.

It is why you’re pacing, why you are out in the middle of the night on a walk to clear your head. You stick to the outer wall on the eastern side near Talos’ shrine, walking in one direction and then the other. Pacing and thinking and worrying.

How do you approach this issue? And who can you tell? Who would believe you?

“Need some company?”

You yelp, and whirl around, only for Brynjolf to melt from the shadows.

He chuckles softly. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, lass.” He starts walking in your direction. “But—” Brynjolf freezes. Pauses.

His gaze roams over you before his legs find the will to move again. “What’s wrong?”

Do you look that bad?

You start to reach up toward your hair, but Brynjolf is grasping your hands, bringing them to chest-level, inspecting them. “You’re shaking.”

Is that what this feeling is?

“I’m fine,” you say, but it sounds of drowning.

“You’re not.” Brynjolf’s tone is firm. You’re upset and he wants to fix it.

“It’s nothing,” you whisper.

“Did someone hurt you?” You shake your head. “Say something?”

“No, Bryn.” The little pet name rolls off your tongue uninvited.

Either he doesn’t notice or he doesn’t say anything because Brynjolf continues.

“But you are not fine.” He cups your cheek. “Your face is puffy. And your eyes are red.” He gently squeezes the hand he’s holding. “Your hands are cold. Talk to me.”

You sniffle, only realizing then how stuffy you sound. “I’m probably imagining things. Making a big deal out of nothing.”

“I don’t believe that.” Brynjolf’s words are a comfort. They slide over and around you. If anyone in Riften will believe you, it’s him.

“It’s the Jarl’s son. He—” You pause when you notice the deep frown on Brynjolf’s face.

“Go on,” he prompts.

“He—he touched me. At dinner. Maybe?”

“Touched you?”

You start to draw back, regretting saying anything at all. “It was probably an accident.”

“Which son?” he growls. The anger in his voice surprises you.

“Harrald.”

Brynjolf’s frown deepens. “No. It wasn’t an accident. Not with him.”

“Bryn. What should I do?” This job is the only thing keeping you afloat. You need this.

The muscles in his jaw tenses. “Steer clear of him if you can. Make sure you’re never alone with him.” He places his hands on your shoulders. “Is there someone there you can trust? Someone who will listen?”

“I think so.”

Anuriel would listen. She might be the Jarl’s steward, but she has a good heart and looks after everyone.

Brynjolf’s hands cradle the sides of your face. “If he touches you again, say something. Understood?”

You nod.

“Good girl.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll walk you back.”

“In that?” you laugh, indicating his Thieves Guild armor with a nod of your head.

“From the shadows, lass,” he teases.

“Finally. Didn’t think I’d ever have a moment alone with you.”

The familiar, arrogantly slimy voice sticks to the insides of your ears. You are in the market. You are not alone. And yet Harrald is right there, standing far too close, grinning widely.

You swallow, the salvia in your throat momentarily sticking. “How can I help you?”

Harrald’s grin widens, and he leans in. You immediately lean back. He makes no indication that your retreat bothers him.

“You’ve been making eyes at me.”

I haven’t you rodent.

“I’m sorry. You’re mistaken.”

He laughs. “I’m not.”

You quickly glance around but no one is paying the two of you any mind. “Apologies, sir. But I—”

Harrald shrugs and then waves his hand dismissively. “Hard to get is fine. I’m up for a chase.”

“That’s not—”

“I’ll play.”

“My lord, that is not—”

His voice lowers and some of his smile recedes. “Pretty thing like you needs a bit of taming.”

A shadow falls over Harrald’s face. You sense a presence to your left just behind your shoulder. The fading smile on Harrald’s face evaporates. In its place is a deep frown.

“You’re interrupting,” spits Harrald, head turning in the direction of the intruder.

“She said she isn’t interested.”

Brynjolf. Thank the Nine.

Harrald stands stall, puffing out his chest. It does little for him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” says Brynjolf flatly. He steps around you, inserting himself between Harrald’s red face and your body.

“I could have you locked up for this!”

“We both have connections,” replies Brynjolf casually. He leans and lowers his voice. “Mine just go a bit deeper.”

Harrald’s reddened face loses all color. He begins to blubber, mouth opening and closing like a fish on a hook. Brynjolf takes a deliberate step forward, completely cutting off Harrald’s connection to you.

The paleness is replaced by redness again.

“You—” begins Harrald, his lip curling. He glances around, and this time there is an audience.

Harrald inhales sharply and turns on his heel, storming back toward Mistveil Keep, shoving a guardsman out of the way as he ascends the steps. Brynjolf doesn’t address you until Harrald has disappeared.

But Brynjolf does not speak. He simply inclines his head in your direction before moving back to his stall. The chatter of the market resumes, and you go about your business.

Harrald leaves you alone the rest of the day, but you remain on edge. The tension sticks around until bed, keeping you awake and alert as if Harrald will appear at any moment.

Sleep eventually comes but you hardly notice when you drift off. But your body knows routine, and you awaken at the time you usually do for morning prayer.

The ground is covered in a low mist and the grass is dew-laced. Head hurting from lack of sleep, you stumble through your routine. And when the air stirs, your alertness sharpens, the thread of excitement rushing through your limbs.

You turn, expecting to find Brynjolf.

You do not find him.

Instead, you find two men. Both are tall. One is thin and lanky with greasy yellow hair. The other is burly and balding with his face all scarred.

The burly man grins, showing missing teeth.

You don’t even see or feel the blow.

It’s just their faces. And then darkness.

“What are we supposed to do with her?”

“He said rough her up a bit. Just avoid the face. He likes that.”

You stare at the grimy stone wall. With the lack of light, you can’t tell if the stone is scorched or simply weathered. Distantly you hear dripping, and faint rattling as if something moves behind the stone. If something does, you don’t want to know.

When you breathe in, a dampness clings to the air, sticking to the insides of your lungs. It’s not exactly foul-smelling wherever you are, but it certainly isn’t pleasant. You are underground, that much you know, and there is only one place in Riften that is entirely beneath the earth.

“She awake?” comes a nasally voice. It’s the one that mentioned he wants you “roughed up.”

“I don’t know.” This is the first voice. It is low and droll.

You’re in the Ratway. You’re certain of it. But where, exactly? The place is large. It is easy to lose yourself in the maze of tunnels.

“Well find out.”

You stay perfectly still as one of the men approaches.

“She ain’t moving.”

Beside you, part of the wall crumbles outward. Slowly, you reach out, fingers finding a solid chunk. Within you, there is a Voice, but you haven’t used it in years, and the power you once wielded is a distant memory.

That is tucked away. You’re not even sure if you remember how to use it or if you might do more harm than good.

“Give her a kick.”

Grip tightening on the broken stone, you turn over and hurl it. The chunky rock nearly collides with the burly, balding man. They both start, faces awash with surprise before anger crosses their faces.

The greasy, yellow haired man’s mouth forms a snarl. He approaches quickly, fists raised. “You—”

But the blow never comes.

His head is there and then it’s not.

It is at your feet. The eyes looking upward, and the mouth shaped into an exaggerated “o.”

The one with his head still on stands there, glancing down at his friend’s unattached head. There is a beat of silence. A pause as his gaze turns to you.

Before either of you can speak or move, a thin blade bursts through the man’s neck.

His eyes go wide, hands reaching up in disbelief. His mouth opens, gasping for air he cannot inhale. The blade slides out. Disappears.

The bloody gurgling increases in volume as he falls face-first into the ground. It tapers off as you push yourself against the gently curving wall. You glance up from the black pool quickly forming beneath him.

In the shadows, something moves in the dark.

You reach for another stone, ready to throw the thing. The moving shadow emerges, and you promptly drop it.

“Brynjolf,” you breathe.

“Lass.” He reaches for you, and you throw yourself into his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, hands roaming as he inspects you.

You take stalk of yourself. Nothing hurts expect a faint throb at the side of your head. “I think I’m all right.”

Brynjolf wraps his arms around you, and you melt into him, clinging so tight the buckles across his chest dig against your skin.

“Take me away from here, Bryn.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here.”

When you told Brynjolf to take you away, you meant above ground, not to Thieves Guild headquarters.

A Guild member strolls by and Brynjolf grabs your arm, pulling you further into the dark. “Mercer isn’t all that inclined in letting you go.”

The two of you stand nearly toe-to-toe in one of the alcoves surrounding the cistern. It’s not well-lit, and your voices are hushed, but this is a conversation between the two of you. No one else needs to take part.

“Why?” you hiss, already knowing.

“He thinks you’ll compromise us,” replies Brynjolf calmly, but you hear the subtle tension. Even he doesn’t entirely believe what he’s saying.

“Everyone already knows the Thieves Guild operates out of the Ratway,” you insist. “They already know you’re down here. How will I change anything?”

Brynjolf glances over your shoulder and you follow his gaze. Mercer Frey stands in the middle of the cistern with two others. One is a woman with white hair and a permanent scowl. The other is a man who keeps glancing at the scowling woman with a soft smirk.

Brynjolf sighs, his head dipping slightly. “Yes, lass. But where? They don’t know and they don’t dare come looking. Not with Maven in their way.”

You scoff. “And you trust her?”

“As long as money is involved.”

You shake your head and look away to a spot over his shoulder. Discovery of where the Thieves Guild is located isn’t the point. Mercer intends to trap you here. Either you stay down here with all of them, or potentially put your life at risk.

Brynjolf lowers his voice. “Mercer won’t harm you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Because it’s true. Brynjolf would intercede if it came to that. The issue is with not being allowed to go.

“I’m not a prisoner,” you finish, returning your gaze to Brynjolf’s face.

“You aren’t.”

“But I can’t go.”

Brynjolf laughs softly and it’s a lovely sound. “You want to run from me that badly?” he teases.

“Be serious,” you hiss.

“I am,” his tone shifting. Brynjolf moves closer, shielding you from the cistern. “You keep running and it has gotten you nowhere.”

“Don’t,” you begin but Brynjolf isn’t having it.

He leans in, placing both hands against the stone wall behind you. You’re trapped. Pinned. Wherever you look, wherever you turn, it will only be him.

“You’re running from yourself. From your family. From me.”

“Brynjolf,” you warn, but he ignores it.

“You say you don’t want me but we both know that’s a lie.”

You huff and attempt to dip under his arm. He moves with you, keeping you in place. Shooting him a warning look does nothing.

“Listen to me, lass,” he murmurs. “You don’t shy away from my touch. You always give me soft smiles. Kind words. Kisses.” It is then that his gaze drops to your mouth. There is clear appreciation in that look, and it instantly stirs a heat in your core.

“We almost married once.” His tone softens, and then Brynjolf’s gaze returns to your eyes. “It did not happen. But I still consider you my only option.”

You fall into memory, of the times before, of when Brynjolf meant everything to you, and your family was whole. A time when you wielded a Voice so powerful it scared you, but you knew it meant you were destined for greater things.

How quickly things change.

How quickly they fall apart.

“Don’t say that,” you murmur, shaking your head.

“Why? Can I not speak freely with you?”

“Of course you can, Bryn.”

“Then that is how I feel.”

You cross your arms over your chest, retreating slightly. Years have passed and the two of you have not faced this. Is it fate that led you to Riften? You knew Brynjolf was here, but that is because of his involvement with the Thieves Guild. Maybe you should attempt to rekindle what the two of you shared—what you still share.

There is still love there. It does not fester or wither.

It is loud and bold beneath the skin. It simmers. Lingers. Waiting for the two of you to finally find each other again. Every time you see Brynjolf, it warms you all over. You feel safe, and you silently hate it when he leaves.

“If you truly do not want me, say so,” he murmurs. “Plainly and firmly. Tell me there is no chance for the two of us to be together.”

Your gaze settles at his throat. It is the only place you can look. If you look into his eyes, if you see those emerald pools, you will drown in him.

“Bryn.”

“Look me in the eyes when you reject me.”

This makes you start, gaze snapping to attention, finding those green gems you’d know anywhere. And you are lost. Completely. You stare at him, the tension increasing until it’s a knife through the heart.

You drop your gaze. Shake your head. “That isn’t fair.”

It’s not a rejection and Brynjolf’s sigh of relief is palpable. It would be unfair to say you don’t love or want him. Because you do. You’re just—

Scared.

Brynjolf leans against the wall with one arm, dropping the other. Using that leverage, he creates an intimate space, faces close enough to come together but not meeting.

“Everything you need will be provided for if that is what you worry about. I promise you,” says Brynjolf. Casually, the backs of his knuckles brush against your upper arm. “Money will be sent to your mother. I’ve already been looking after her care.”

You blink, startled. “What do you mean?”

Brynjolf shrugs. “You think your measly earnings for the Jarl are enough?”

Your mouth opens and then closes, your mind trying to process this information. “How long has this been going on?”

Brynjolf remains quiet.

“Tell me,” you insist, lightly beating your fist against his chest.

“I’ve been sending money for many seasons.”

“Since when?”

“You know,” he says simply.

The whole reason you broke it off with Brynjolf all those years ago was because of your mother’s health and the death of your father and brothers. All that income disappeared, and you were the only person available to keep you and your mother afloat. Maybe if you had married Brynjolf, money wouldn’t have been an issue, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you. The threat of the streets was constant, and all your hopes for the future suddenly vanished.

And he’s been sending money all this time?

“You didn’t have to. Brynjolf—you shouldn’t—”

Brynjolf starts shaking his head. He pushes off from the wall, face stern. He glances back at the cistern and then returns his gaze to you. “Come with me.”

Brynjolf grabs your upper arm and pulls you away from the wall. A small part of you tells you to stick your heels in and resist because it’s all you know. But you allow him to guide you away into what must be some sort of training room.

“You didn’t need to send anything. I have it handled.”

Brynjolf has his back to you, hands on his hips. He sighs audibly and speaks. “I wanted to. Want to.”

“Bryn.”

He turns, one hand up to ask for silence. “We were to be married.” He drops it, that hand forming a fist at his side. “That didn’t just disappear for me.”

You can’t fault him for caring. It was you that severed the connection, who walked away from a good man that loved you beyond care for himself. Even now, he looks after what’s left of your family.

“Do you remember how happy we were?” he asks.

“All the time,” you reply, voice cracking slightly.

Brynjolf moves toward you, and without thought, you extend your hand to him. He takes it, pulling you into his arms, inhaling deeply of your scent.

“I’d choose you every time,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I’d bring you a priestess of Mara. Bind ourselves to each other. Give you anything you ask for.”

Brynjolf pulls back enough to change his position. With one hand, he cups your cheek, and draws you in. “You’ll never have to work.” He hesitates, then closes the distance. The kiss he offers is sweet. Gentle. “Never worry.” Another kiss, this one tinged with a spark of fire. “I would provide.” This next kiss is deep, all need and passion. You open for him and Brynjolf groans into your mouth.

When the two of you break apart for air, his thumb begins caressing your cheek. “You know I speak truly.”

“What would I do here?”

“Whatever you want,” shrugs Brynjolf. “Could even teach you our ways.”

“I’m not becoming a member.”

Brynjolf’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it. “If you marry me, you do by default.” He lowers his voice. “And you know where we live.”

“Is this your way of forcing my hand?”

Brynjolf laughs. “If I was going to force you, lass, I’d have done it already.”

It’s true. Brynjolf has had years to make you his without your input. But he has always given you space. Given you time. And you do love him. You do long for the times the two of you shared together before you pulled away.

Perhaps it is time to accept, to know that his support is there and so deeply wanted on your part.

“You’ll fetch a priestess of Mara?” you ask softly.

“Right now,” he answers immediately. “If that is what you wish.”

You see the hope in his eyes, feel the anticipation in his muscles. All these years, and still you are so enamored with him, and he with you.

“You did ruin my job with the Jarl.”

“Me?” he laughs, pulling you tighter into his arms. The two of you stay like this, just embracing.

After a long moment, he finally speaks. “Is this a yes, lass?”

You take a deep breath and snuggle closer into him. “It’s a yes.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @miss-mistinguett @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @ninman82

[smuttywriter]

..under the stars

“Listen, if Vekel assures me that Fevyn Telleno has important information, then I believe him. I know you don't think much of him, but he's good at what he does.”

“Bryn, don't get me wrong, I know he's part of the guild and our keenest talker, but sometimes I'd like to personally punch him in the throat for that”, I state, staring at the stars. 

“Aye, he'd deserve that”, he sighs and moves his arm under his head. “Do you still remember what he said when I first told them about you, lass? You were standing right behind me.”

“I remember him saying that you, Delvin and Vex were part of a dying breed”, I say. 

Finally, he climbs on top of me, his guilds armour barely rubs on mine as he balances his weight on his arms. 

“Dying breed, eh? Well, what do you call this then!”, he says, nodding towards me. 

I smile, only seconds before feeling his lips on mine. 

“Even old Delvin was fond of you the second he first saw you”, he adds.

“I still can't believe you didn't tell me Delvin had a brother.”

“You two are getting along a little too well, aren't you?”, he teases.

“What can I say, you know I've got a weakness for blacksmiths. Especially for such talented ones”, I admit. 

“I may not be able to perform miracles with steel, lass, but I certainly could manage to make an emerald like you pop.”

“Oh, you do?”, I ask, arching upward to meet his lips. 

He slightly pulls back, knowing I'd be yearning for his touch. A subtle smile is rising on his face, as I try to grab him a second time. Then, immediately after leading me on, he leans in and kisses me. Once I start feeling the weight of his body pressing against mine, a shiver is sent through my entire being.

Suddenly Rune stirs heavily in his sleep. 

Bryn abruptly rolls over. When he catches me smiling, he himself has to restrain from laughter. Then, he draws closer, and pulls me in a tight but loving embrace.

I feel his body behind me and immediately catch myself wishing that Bryn and I were here alone. But we both know giving in to our appetite is an irresponsible thing to do right now, as it wouldn't be the most pleasant sight for Rune to wake up to. 

Knowing Bryn, I'm certain Rune would have been pulled from his slumber.

[cramberrytea]

How Could an Angel Break My Heart?

Characters: Kaidan x Kimiya (Original Character)

Summary: Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Word Count: 3,465

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, allusions to non-con. (no non-con), angst

A few wee notes:

the main character is a redguard woman (she's black y'all). while i describe her in detail please feel free to envision her however you'd like.

one thing imma do is describe the outfits, it’s drip or drown y’all✊🏾

title is from the song "How Could an Angel Break My Heart" by toni braxton and babyface

Chapter 3 (Strangers)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It never takes long for night to fall. That peaceful, enthralling time of day, known as dusk, never stays long. Pinks, purples and oranges paint the sky as the sun continues its descent below the horizon. It’s fleeting; an in-between before the, much longer, nighttime. Kimiya knew that, which is why she quickened her pace. There’s no way she’d make it to Whiterun before nightfall, but a little darkness wasn’t a deterrent for her. She’s a big girl. She’s fought bandits, draugr, skeletons you name it whatever her guild asked of her, in exchange of some shiny septims of course. However, as night fell there was one thing she didn’t account for.

One big fat drop of water fell and splattered against her forehead, causing her to look up at the sky reflexively. This action resulted in a seemingly angry assault of raindrops to splatter against her face. She groaned, wiping the water from her face with her gloved hand. She flipped her hood over her head, covering her braided hair. The rain quickly took to drenching her cloak. She contemplated continuing her journey to Whiterun, until a slim crack of lightning illuminated the cloudy night sky, which was closely followed by a brazen and earth shattering rumble of thunder. She sighs ready to set up camp however she sees, not far from her, an abandoned tower. She narrowed her eyes in thought, before letting out an audible “Fuck it.”

Heaving open the wooden door, she let out a sigh as she stepped into the damp and humid tower. She pushed the door back closed with her back, using her body weight to shut it. The Redguard was tempted to simply sit at the door and fall asleep, however she knew she should scout out the area. Letting out, yet another sigh she pushed herself up from the door. She slid her black mask over her nose and mouth, leaving her eyes exposed. She pulled her bow from her back, and reached for an arrow from her quiver prepping for a potential attack. She silently crept down the damp stone steps, her deep brown eyes surveying the area around her. She took note of the doorway to her right, electing to scout out the open area to her left. A pool of water sat to her left, and a few broken beams and stone bricks. After concluding that the area was clear, she turned her attention towards the doorway. Once again she slowly descended down the steps, stopping when she heard the sound of a quill on a piece of parchment.

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled back the bowstring towards her cheek. As she descended further, she recognized the fancy gold armor the stranger adorned. A scowl spread across her lips, her blood going hot. Descending another step, she was able to get a clear shot. Without a second thought she let go of the bowstring. The arrow flew through the air and into the back of the Thalmor agent’s neck. The sound of gurgling filled the room as he fell off his chair and onto the floor, holding his neck. Blood continued to pour out his neck as he gasped for air choking on his own blood. Kimiya’s shadow casted over him as she stared down at him, with cold and calculating eyes. Taking in the sight. Before he could utter any words, a dagger made its way into his forehead killing him instantly.

Kimiya wiped the excess blood on her leather covered thigh, as she continued her descent. Walking through the door she saw the various prison cells on either side of her. She quickly prepped her bow and arrow as she entered the new area. She scanned every cell as she made her way through the prison. Each one was empty, aside from a few skeletons, and a couple bedrolls. However she noticed in the last cell a head of jet black hair atop a muscular body. The bow in her hand slowly lowered and the arrow made its way into her quiver again. She took pity on the man, no doubt a Thalmor prisoner. He’s probably been subjected to endless amounts of torture. She took a quick glance to the table to her right, spotting a key. Of course she had to free the poor man. She grabbed the key off the table, before unlocking the cell door.

The man kept his head down, his black hair covering his face. If Kimiya hadn’t noticed his fists clench she’d presume he’d been dead or unconscious. There’s no way he wouldn’t be able to hear the sound of the cell door creaking open. It was more than loud enough. The sound of her footsteps clacking against the damp floor, halted as she heard the man speak.

“When I get out of here… I’ll kill you all myself.”

The way Kimiya’s heart stopped, one could pronounce her dead; at least it felt that way. As soon as her heartbeat returned, it hammered against her chest. Her breath caught in her throat as the man’s voice registered. Her lips parted, in shock, and her eyes widened, nearly dropping the key in her hand. Had she heard correctly? There’s no way that…

“Kaidan?” Her voice came out raspy and unsure as if she might be mistaking the man in front of her. She knew she wasn’t, that accent was unmistakable.

Apparently his voice wasn’t the only unmistakable one. His head snapped up, his long, oily black hair flipping out his face. Leaning his head closer and furrowing his eyebrows, also unsure if the voice belonged to who he thought it was. It was evident now, there’s not a single possible way this wasn’t the man she thought it was. The crimson eyes that bore the same expression as her’s confirmed any suspicions. Kimiya hooked a finger around the top of her mask, dragging it down so it sat on her collar bones. Kaidan was dumbstruck, eyes wide. He drank her in, her multitude of braids damp and resting against her chest. Black light leather armor padded her body, black gloves covered her nimble fingers. His eyes floated back up towards her face, her deep brown eyes assessed him the same way he did her. Her soft brown skin was glowing, illuminated by the torchlight around the cell . She looked exactly how he remembered her.

“Miya?” He finally uttered out.

She quickly ran over to him, crouching down in front of him joining him at eye level; although she still had to look up at him slightly.

“What happened to you?” She asks, looking at his bruised and cut body, then all the way back to his face. Her eyes lingered on the blood red tattoo on his face. Her gaze darkened for a moment before returning to his eyes trying not to draw attention to her expression. He noticed her lingered gaze upon his tattoo, his gaze immediately falling to the floor unable to look her in the eye.

“Some Thalmor Justiciars ambushed me outside of Falkreath.” As he replied he winced as the iron shackles pressed into his skin, rubbing the sensitive and irritated spot it encased. This action caused Kimiya to remember where they were, and what was happening.

“Here, let me…” She immediately stands up, holding the irons in her hands. She slips in the key, turning it. A satisfying click sounded. She did the same to the other side. As soon as the cuffs loosened, Kaidan fell forward; he quickly stood up, however trying not to draw attention to it. He grabbed the wall to steady himself, but Kimiya was there in an instant, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling his arm over her shoulder to keep him steady. She felt her hand grow slightly damp, his back was covered in dry blood and some serous fluid, but she didn’t care how damp her hand was. She slowly eased him onto the ground.

“Easy… easy.” Kimiya rummages through her pack, pulling out a healing potion.

“Drink.” She says uncorking the red bottle with a pop before handing it over. He reached for it, gingerly taking the bottle out her hand. As he drank the potion he could see the gold light shimmering and encircling his body. The red circles around his wrists were gone, the slashes on his back healed however left many scars.

“Bottled miracle that stuff…thank you.” He nodded.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, not registering his thanks.

“Days? Weeks? I can’t tell. Only time anyone would come to see me is when it was time for…interrogation.”

She bit her lip, furrowing her brows as she absorbed the information. She was no fool, she knew the horrific tools of the Thalmor. The mental image of Kaidan being beaten and whipped intruded into her brain. She shook her head as if trying to shake the thought out of her head.

“Come, let’s get you out of here.” She stands before offering a gloved hand to the man in front of her. He looks at the hand in front of him, then towards her face. He reaches out and grabs her hand, as soon as he does so she pulls him to his feet. As he stands to his full height she drinks him in again. His red eyes never leaving hers, his hair was loose and much longer than it was all those years ago. His hair was caked in his own blood, and sweat. His body hasn't changed much, he’s always been extremely physically fit. Well maybe he was slightly more muscular now. She caught her gaze drifting across his body, immediately she averted her eyes looking towards the open cell door. She pressed her eyebrows together, scowling. ‘Stop looking at him like that.’ She chastises and degrades herself internally.

“Wait… there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Listen, I know I have no right to ask-“

“Just tell me what it is.” She replied curtly, cutting her eyes towards him.

His eyes widened, at the tonal shift before standing up straighter than before.

“One of them got their hands on my sword.” He says, his tone deeper and slightly harsher.

Kimiya’s gaze softened at the information just given to her. Of course she wanted to glare at him for the harshness, but hearing what he said as opposed to how he said it made her stand down.

“Where did they go?”

“Deeper into the prison, and with any luck he’s cornered like a rat.” He informed, his tone softer again. He knew he had no right to get snappy with her the same way she was with him, he had to just take the heat.

The redguard nods, turning on her heel headed toward the other door to her left. Just as she was about to unlock the cell door, she turned back towards Kaidan. She grabs one of her daggers off her belt before handing it to him, hilt towards him.

“Here, we might be in for a fight.” She says. He nodded in response as he took the dagger in her hand. He was much more used to wielding something heavier, and bigger of course. He wasn’t going to complain though, he appreciated anything he could get.

“You probably won’t need it, I’m sure you can crush a man’s head using your bare hands.” She smirks softly, teasing him as she bends down to unlock the door.

He softly smiles back, rolling his eyes at the comment she made.

“Probably, but I’d rather not find out right now.” He replies as the cell door creaks open.

The two inched down the walkway, footsteps silent. Aside from Kaidan, yes his footsteps were quiet but not like Kimiya’s. Noticing this she giggled silently, before reading her bow. The flame from the torches flickering causing shadows to dance slightly. The silence was deafening, just the occasional drips from various leaks, the occasional sound of rats scurrying. Kimiya took the lead, slowly gliding up the stairs. The moment she rounded the corner the Justiciar came into view. His back was turned towards the desk he was sitting at. Kimiya pulled the bowstring back ready to take out the Justiciar the same way as the other one. However she did not anticipate shifting her foot just enough that the pebble right by it also shifted, falling down the steps.

The clinking of that tiny pebble falling down the steps was enough for the Justiciar to turn around; the same time as the arrow was shot. The sharp point of the arrow grazing the elf’s

“Shit.” Kimiya uttered at the realization.

“Redguard bitch!” The justiciar fumed

She could smell the scent of magicka in the humid air before he even summoned the bolts of lightning. Apparently so could Kaidan as he stepped in front of her absorbing most of the heat of the attack. Despite not even wearing any armor he dove right in, slashing at the Altmer in front of him. The sudden attack didn’t give the Justiciar much time to parry the attack, instead opting to dodge sloppily. Aware of this Kaidan took to another slashing motion towards his abdomen. The Justiciar, overwhelmed by the flurry of attacks from Kaidan, knew he had to get some space between the two. He opts to go for a blunt hit, swiftly punching Kaidan in his abdomen. It was a risky move, to get closer to your opponent, however it worked out. While the hit wasn’t enough to cause him any severe pain, Kaidan still staggered back slightly.

This was all the Justiciar needed as he brandished an elven dagger to even the playing field.

“I don’t know how you were able to escape, or how your friend here got past the guards…” He switched his grip to one suitable for stabbing, raising his arm to stab Kaidan's shoulder.

“But once we throw you back in that cell, I’ll make an example out of that friend of yours. It gets a little lonely here at night.” Kaidan’s eyes flew open and his lips turned down in a snarl. The image that conjured up in his mind of what that Altmer threatened to do, sent him into a fury. Kaidan swiftly blocked the blow, with his arm, however the dagger teetered close to Kaidan’s flesh. It wasn’t much of a struggle keeping the dagger from the incision point, he could keep this up for a while.

Thankfully he wouldn’t have to. The short redguard woman swiftly grappled the Justiciar in front of her, wrapping her legs around his waist and situating her bow at his windpipe. She grabbed the lower and upper limbs of the bow with both hands, pulling the bow cutting off his air supply.

“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.” She growls into the man’s ear. This action also assisted in creating more space between the two men. The Altmer’s hands immediately went to attempt to pull the bow away from his neck, however his vision was getting blurry so he was getting desperate. Throwing himself against the wall with all his might proved effective as it knocked the wind out of Kimiya.

She reflexively loosened her legs, allowing him to pull away. Kimiya looked up at the hooded man with wide eyes full of rage and some worry. However before The Justiciar was able to attack, a blade made its way through his neck. His eyes widened, gurgling and somewhat coughing up blood. Immediately the Altmer fell to the floor coughing up blood onto the stone floor beneath him. Each flex of his throat made the incision deeper and wider. Blood spluttering from the wound. His hands flying up to the wound reflexively, his eyes were wide searching for something someway he can survive this.

“Went toe to toe with a Thalmor agent half naked, I’m impressed.” Kimiya looked up at Kaidan from her spot on the floor with an impressed look on her face.

Kaidan chuckled as he listened to what was said. He bent over the soon to be corpse of the Justiciar, pulling his sword off his hip. He looked down at it for a moment, unsheathing it and observing it making sure no damage was done. When he was satisfied with the state of his sword he immediately sheathed it. He looks back down at the justiciar bleeding out beneath him, his eyes filled with nothing but hate and contempt. He kneels down watching the man look up at him helplessly.

“I told you.” Kaidan’s deep voice oozes with contempt, and satisfaction. He stands up walking away from the scum that lie dying on the stone dank and damp floor.

Kaidan reached out a hand to Kimiya, she took his hand nodding in acknowledgment. He pulled her up. He may have overestimated the amount of strength needed judging by the fact she was nearly pulled into his chest. The close proximity didn’t go unnoticed, Kaidan gazed down at her in awe as she looked up at him, his gaze softening. His mind was filled with breathless and wordless moments, and the feeling of skin on skin. However once Kimiya realized what happened she pulled her body away. This caused Kaidan to snap back into reality, he shook his head slightly coming out of a daze.

“Thanks.” She nodded, muttering softly before turning away.

The chest a foot or so away from her caught her attention. Stepping around the corpse of the Thalmor Justiciar she stepped closer to the chest, before opening it. She smirked at its contents. She stepped to the side looking towards Kaidan, gesturing her head towards the wooden vessel. He quirked an eyebrow before stepping forward.

“Finally you can put on some clothes like a decent man.”

After finally getting dressed in his armor, the two were able to scout and clear out the rest of the prison. They were able to grab two bedrolls and set up camp by the door. Kimiya sat on her’s, her bow and quiver beside her. She munched on a green apple from her supplies.

“How have you been?” Kaidan’s voice breaks the silence. The sound of crunching came to an abrupt halt. Kimiya swallows the food in her mouth before responding.

“Fine.” She responds before continuing “Been doing some jobs here and there, trying to keep these pockets filled up with coin.”

Kaidan nods in understanding, letting out a small knowing smile.

“I hear you, been taking up bounties for the same reason.”

Kimiya’s face scrunches up in confusion at his sentence before pushing it away and looking down towards the half eaten apple in her hands.

“Don’t see the reason why, don’t your merry band of misfits keep you comfortable?” She replied, venom dripping from her words.

“Haven’t been in contact with them for a few years now.”

Kimiya glances up at him from the corner of her eye, scrutinizing him. Searching for any lies, waiting for him to slip up. Once it was clear he was telling the truth she looked back down at the apple in her hands.

“Interesting.” She says callously as she lays back onto the damp furs of her bedroll.

“Listen, Kimiya” The said woman looks over at him fully at the sound of her name. “I did you wrong in so many ways. I was stupid and I was angry and reckless, I should have listened to you. I should have stayed…” He pauses in thought, “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to make up for those wrongs, however you’ll have me.”

Her eyes softened, and her chest tightened. The pain was so deep, too deep to get to. He could see the turmoil in her eyes, fighting between anger and sadness and forgiveness. His chest tightened as well, of course she had every right to curse him out and leave him right then and there. However he silently hoped she wouldn’t.

“Whatever, sounds good.” She says nonchalantly, shaking off her daze, before taking a final bite of her apple.

“Get your beauty sleep, we’re headed for Whiterun in the morning.” Kimiya says as she turns on her side, her back toward Kaidan.

Even though she wasn’t facing him, he still watched her. His eyes gazed over her sleeping form as he leaned his head against the stone wall. His lips pressed in a firm line in thought. He had expected a bigger reaction, for her to tell him off and hurl out insults. To instead be met with such an aloof response confused him to say the least. It unnerved him to be honest. But he’s at least thankful for the opportunity, the chance she’s given him.

A few tears slid down her face as she attempted to drift off to sleep.

[argisthebulwark]

accidentally skipped ahead and wrote the juicy bits for my longfic (the smut and the ending) and now i simply do not want to write all the in between stuff. like yeah it's a story and it lives in my head but the fun stuff's all done. it's just sitting there in that google doc.

[peachfridges]

masterlist

to see my other fics, check out @peachcloudss to see kpop idols x reader :)

check out my ao3 @/cherrychilde to see multi-part fics!

dc

bruce wayne

nothing here yet…

dick grayson

nothing here yet…

jason todd

nothing here yet…

fortnite

jonesy

nothing here yet…

midas

nothing here yet…

montague

we’ll be okay - fluff, very slight angst, brief mention of canon-typical violence

modern warfare

alejandro vargas

dating headcanons

coming soon…

john ‘soap’ mactavish

dating headcanons

five times they almost got caught (and one time they did) - fluff, suggestive content but nothing graphic

john price

late that night - fluff, can be read platonically

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

nothing here yet..

simon ‘ghost’ riley

dating headcanons

upcoming: hushed words

resident evil

chris redfield

nothing here yet..

leon s. kennedy

dating - fluff + a small bit of smut

re2 drabble - fluff + a tiny bit of smut

skyrim

brynjolf

nothing here yet..

farkas

nothing here yet..

miraak

nothing here yet..

ondolemar

nothing here yet..

[seigeocs]

Ships and Characters

Skyrim

My OCs + their ships. Farkas Vilkas Brynjolf

Fallout 3 Butch Cross Jericho Charon

Fallout New Vegas (if it’s not obvious, I really like the ladies in NV) Boone Lily Bowen Raul Cass Veronica

Fallout 4 All of the romance options Deacon Maxon The Raider bosses in Nuka World except the Black siblings

Fallout (TV Series) Ghoulcy Maximus x Lucy

Destiny 1 Any of my OCs Siobhan x Emyr Siobhan x Shaxx Siobhan x Uldren

Destiny 2 Any of my OCs Siobhan x Crow Siobhan x Shaxx

Dragon Age: Origins Any of my OCs established ships F!Cousland x Anora, F!Warden x Leliana, F!Warden x Morrigan, M!Warden x Morrigan, M!Warden x Zevran, F!Warden x Zevran

Dragon Age: Awakening F!Cousland x Nathaniel Howe, F!Cousland/Anders, F!Warden x Varel

Dragon Age 2 I’ll write for any of the characters and ships in DA2.  My favorites are: F!Hawke x Fenris, F!Hawke x Isabela x Fenris, F!Hawke x Varric, M!Hawke x Fenris, M!Hawke x Fenris x Isabela

Dragon Age: Inquisition I like almost all of the ships.  I struggle to write Solas so he’s just not available unfortunately.  Not that I don’t like his character, I just suck at writing him. My OCs and their ships, Dorian x Bull are some of my favorite.  I also love writing interactions that don’t involve smut for the companions as well.

Dragon Age Veilguard (when it comes out as I’m trying to keep away from most of the game information)

Mass Effect F!Shep x Kaidan, F!Shep x Ashley, F!Shep x Garrus, F!Shep x Tali (DON’T CARE IF THEY WEREN’T OFFICIAL, THEY EXIST TO ME).

Mass Effect 2 F!Shep x Garrus, F!Shep x Thane, F!Shep x Zaeed, F!Shep x Garrus x Thane, F!Shep x Tali, F!Shep x Miranda, M!Shep x Jack

Mass Effect 3 Same ship as 1 and 2.  I also write F!Shep x James Vega but in the non creepy Citadel DLC way.  That doesn’t exist in my canon.

Stardew Valley I’ll write smut about many of the characters in the game.  My one farmer is shipped with Harvey and my other is shipped with Leah.  If you give me characters I’ll make it work.  My only line in the sand is I will not write any cheating.

BG3 *waves hand to OCs* I’ll write whatever for them and their ships.  If you request BG3 just give me some options and I’ll figure it out.

Helluva Boss* Established canon ships!  I am loving the angst with Blitz and Stolas right now.

Hazbin Hotel* Established canon couples, Angel Dust x Husker (mostly fluff for these two because Angel Dust needs it).  I won’t write Alastor in any romantic ships.

My Hero Academia*

I mostly write Reader insert fics for MHA.  I also write ships between characters too.  Platonic fluff, found family, sarcasm, and anything that is G to T rating is for every character.  My main ships: Midnight x Eraserhead x Mic Midnight x Eraserhead Mic x Eraserhead Fatgum x Mirko Fatgum x Hawks Fatgum x Eraserhead All Might x Eraserhead Mirko x Shigaraki (Don’t question it, I love the toxicity of it) Compress x Twice Twice x Hawks Hawks x Dabi

Demon Slayer*

My OC x Rengoku My Demon OC x Muzan Reader Inserts for all the over 18 characters I also write platonic found family for all the characters

Kaiju No. 8*

Hoshina is my absolute favorite character in this show. Kafka Hibino is a close second Narumi (omg the anime did him a disservice so badly) Eiji Hasegawa Haruichi Izumo Iharu Furuhashi Reno Ichikawa

Any any platonic, fluff, cute stuff with any of the characters

Haikyuu

As everyone in the main cast is over 18 by the end of the manga, I’ll write all the characters.  It’s mostly Reader Inserts but I’m open to OCs and character x character ships.

One Punch Man

Saitama Genos Atomic Samurai Blast Zombieman

[ao3feed-superbat]

Kinktober 2024...

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uWsYMgk by Maladaptivity Look, I didn't think I would do this, but I'm putting off my literature homework. And this is close enough to literature to not feel guilty about writing it instead. Fuck off. There will not be good intros to all this porn. I'm trying my best. We're lucky if I even upload more than once in a week. Don't @ me I'm a college sophomore and this is not the most important thing in my life rn   btw, if y'all give me good writing critiques, I'll definitely take them to heart and tell my professor i'm getting out-of-class critique which could be extra credit soooooo help a brother out? Words: 9248, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games), 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game), House of the Dragon (TV), Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Justice League - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Kamisato Ayato, Thoma (Genshin Impact), Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Criston Cole, Arataki Itto, Gorou (Genshin Impact), John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Vex (Elder Scrolls), Karliah (Elder Scrolls), Delvin Mallory, Brynjolf (Elder Scrolls), Dovahkiin | Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Kamisato Ayato/Thoma, Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Criston Cole/Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Criston Cole/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Arataki Itto/Gorou, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, Delvin Mallory/Vex, Brynjolf/Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Karliah (Elder Scrolls), Brynjolf/Dovahkiin | Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Karliah (Elder Scrolls), Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Power Imbalance, Power Dynamics, Orgasm Edging, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome, Dehumanization, Breeding, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Crossdressing, Virginity, Virginity Kink, Loss of Virginity, read my dissertation on gender, Kinktober, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, Orgy, Some Plot, Dacryphilia, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, Kinda read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uWsYMgk

[wulflynn]

I looove fanfiction, but I’m not huge into smut. Fluff is where it’s at for me. Any recommendations?

Shane x Fe Marner - Stardew Valley

Mark x Fe Farmer - Coral Island

Cullen x Fe Inquisitor - Dragon Age

Brynjolf x Fe Player - Skyrim

I’ll still read smutty fics when they’re well-written, of course! But as an Ace I’m looking for some fluff. Any suggestions??

[holographicceo]

Trying to write a a little Skyrim smut fic for brynjolf because fuck yes

[gloomwitchwrites]

Spring 2024 Collection Masterlist

Spring themed stories from across multiple fandoms.

** Indicates a Community Label

Skyrim: (complete) Lavender: Part One // Part Two (Brynjolf x Female Reader)

Brynjolf only ever brings you flowers when he wants something.

Lord of the Rings: (complete) Flower Crown (Aragorn x Female Reader)

During a spring festival in a small village, Aragorn reunites with the woman he’s been missing.

Star Wars: (complete) Greener Things (Din Djarin x Female Reader)

It isn’t until the woman he loves is in danger that Din realizes he’s wanted her all along.

High Stakes (Boba Fett x Female Reader)

Losing a bet with the infamous bounty hunter places you in his control.

Call of Duty: (complete) Easy Access (Task Force 141 x Female Reader)

A short dress is your idea of an invitation for a bit of fun.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

@firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady

@spicyspicyliving @thepetitemandalorian @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado

@aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett

@keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @cinnabeanz

@berarenado @saoirse06 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics

@ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @jade1605 @tulipsun-flower

@nomercyforthewarrior @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria

[lake-ilinalta]

One Of Them

A/N-Disclaimer: I'm very, very drunk and making this up as I go because I lost a bet to write smut... Brynjolf works, I think?

Brynjolf x Dark Brotherhood Reader

____________________________________

Riften was a strange, busy, rude town. If you weren't a Blackbriar, you meant nothing. If you didn't have money, you meant nothing. Those were only three of the list of reasons you avoided it in your travels if not for work. Your uncle lived there-worked there- more like. Delvin Malory. He was respected among his people but rarely showed his face around the streets. He lacked the discretion and diplomacy it took to be an assassin, just a common thief in the guild that found itself sinking. They gripped coins for life, of course. Raising taxes on shop owners, digging their sewer claws into the Jarl's household. It was disgusting to you. You were forced to be clever, act with your intelligence and not your greed, to stay in the shadows and accept the trust of nobody. It was a lonely life, but one that was necessary.

You pushed open the door with your armored shoulder, walking along the pool of what you'd hoped to be drained water from the lake. Sneaking your way past, you avoided a brutish man, a cruel snarl on his lips and you imagined he wasn't very bright either. Your uncle was sat at the bar beside a redguard woman, a blonde nord blocking your path. She was beautiful, but her dagger was drawn instantly and you folded your hands behind your back, calmly toying with the belt of your throwing knives.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

Your unamused look as you pressed forward against the blade sent a fury to her belly and she spun your body, holding the knife tighter to your throat. The thing about thieves, is they've more bravado than talent. You were trained to fight, trained to survive any circumstances, traded to hide and manipulate if you're caught. But a thief was ruled by greed, anticipation and instant gratification with the sound of two coins rubbing together.

"That's a mistake, sweetheart." A neutral tone left your lips as a small line of blood trickled down your neck. But you had no reaction, putting a look of unease into every pair of eyes in you in the Ragged Flagon.

"Not from where I'm standing." She growled in your ear.

Delvin turned on his stool, lazily, drunk and not bothering to lower his tonkard or raising to his feet. "From where I'm standing, Vex, you've got a knife to my niece's throat."

"Niece?!" She dropped her blade back to her side but never relaxed. "The assassin? Your brother lives in Solthseim, Delvin."

"Yet I don't. People travel." You rubbed your throat with a dry tone.

The cut had clotted and wouldn't scar but you rolled your eyes regardless, taking a sudden swing. Your fist collided with her nose and a cracking sound resonated over the gushing water around the guild. Nobody dared move but Vex who held her face in pain, gasping as blood filled her cupped palms. Your knuckles were split and you shook out the pain while walking to Delvin's side. He pressed his fingers into his eyes, knowing your actions reflected on him.

"How have you been, uncle?" Your tone was unflinchingly calm, neutral despite what just happened.

"Fine, Y/N." He muttered tiredly, tossing Vex a rag to stop the bleeding. "How's work?"

"Astrid will cut out my tongue if I give that away."

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" The all too familiar voice came from behind you and you were reluctant to turn.

Brynjolf emerged from the darkness in his black leather armor, framing the expanse of his shoulders.

"I believe our girl is here for you. She's a Malory, we don't visit family on a whim."

Delvin smirked, shaking his head. Your eyes widened, neither of you had been aware he knew of your meeting. It had been during your last hit in Solitude. He never spoke of his business there, nor did you. It was better left as a secret, a rift between your two worlds where there was a difference between the meaning of 'morals.' Thieves viewed assassins as murderers... Both had little respect for the other.

Delvin leant in to kiss your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulders. The both of you turned to the redhead and something possessive and intimate flashed before his face making your uncle uneasy.

Brynjolf shifted from one foot to the other. "A word, Y/N?"

You stood still, not obeying any command unless it came from Astrid, herself. Delvin grinned down at your stubbornness. You really were related, not quite in looks but the attitude gave it away. But after a moment of Brynjolf's demanding, dominant eyes, you pulled away from the warmth and unusual safety of your uncles embrace.

Turning to him, "We'll speak of that amulet later, uncle. I won't be long."

Following Brynjolf through the false door, he pulled you into a hidden room before the cistern and slammed the door. You crossed your arms against your chest and waited for his pacing to seize. He threw his arms out in exasperation and you knew this was it.

"You're Malory's contact in the Brotherhood?" It was a shout but the thick walls would keep the noise from carrying.

"Should it matter?"

He approached within inches, grasping your throat firmly but you didn't lack air. "Yes, lass. It matters. We don't encourage family. We don't encourage murder."

Your eyes narrowed. "What is it that you think the brotherhood does? We don't kill just anyone, Bryn. They deserve it."

"Always?"

"It's not my business to ask."

The silence carried on, lingering till it filled every corner of the small room, sank it's way into your lungs and confidence. But after the tension grew, he backed you against the table, lifting behind your knees so you sat and he found a comfortable spot between your legs.

"We promised this wouldn't happen again, Bryn." You whispered against his lips. Your words meant little, for you already toyed at one of his buckles.

"We promised we wouldn't see each other again, either. Now here you are beneath my fingers, in my power. Mine alone." His voice had deepened against your neck before he bit you, sucking a line down your throat and stopping where your red and black leather armor covered you.

"You're possessive over me? Thieves." You grinned into a seering kiss that let your lips swollen and bruised. Your teeth tugged and his calloused hand found your throat again, more tender now with the bite marks. "Well here I am."

"You're quick to hand yourself over into my power, lass. You could get hurt."

"Stop talking." You nipped the she'll of his ear, encouraging a low groan from him and you could feel his growing erection press against you through two layers of leather.

You laughed at his eagerness until the buckles of your armor, he had been working at, fell free and he rid you of one piece after another. The chill bit at your skin but you didn't cover yourself, only watched the look on his face change.

"Just admit you don't like what I am, thief." You were bare and unprotected, but you leaned forward on the table challenging him.

Brynjolf was quick to make a fist in your hair and you hissed when he yanked your head back, gazing down into your eyes.

"Assassin." He snapped, releasing you in favor of unclasping his belts. Only a moment passed before he found his home between your legs again, stretching them open wider. "Kiss me."

You leaned back with a smirk but he pulled you quickly to the very edge of the table and lifted your thighs, testing your flexibility. Your lips parted, surprised. The way he treated you, the look in his eyes, his demands... Your tried to press the friction in your core away, only to tighten your thighs around his hips. The full length of him pressed against your inner thigh. He grinned at the knowledge your body needed him, how desperate it was to be filled. That right now in this room it belonged to him. And he knew from experience that you didn't care if he left marks. Everyone would know.

"You think you deserve this?" He growled, hand cupping your core, teasing you by rubbing a finger up your folds. He stopped at your clit, circling his thumb till you arched your back and his hand cruelly fell away. "You broke Vex's nose."

"She deserved it." You panted, only half paying attention while attempting to buck your pelvis forward. A large hand was placed on your thigh to hold you still and you whimpered in need, a way only he could make you.

His response was a hum against your collarbone, his hot breath making you shiver. Brynjolf dragged his tongue down the valley of your breasts and took a nipple between his lips. His tongue ran over the nub as your fingers found their way into his red hair. He sucked and pulled with his lips making a gasp break through your lips and you fell further back against the table. Yelping when his teeth grazed the sensitive skin and your body was in fire. The wood table pressed against your back when two fingers slid inside of your heat, curling perfectly to make your back arch.

"Brynjolf." You cried and grasped the edge if the table as his hand pumped inside you. "I need you Brynjolf."

With a force that would leave bruises on your thighs he pulled you nearly off the table and teased you with the swollen head if his erection against your folds. Up and down he spread how wet you were for him already. Your chest heaved, lips parting in a silent moan when he pushed into you and you felt the burn of his length bottoming out. You leg lifted over his shoulder and his lips grazed the inside of your thigh before roughly pulling your body to meet his, fucking into you mercilessly in a way you thought the table nay break. His other hand was quickly clasped over your mouth to mute the screams of ecstasy. That moment lasted forever. The closer you came to your release, the slower he'd become. When your fingers dropped to your clit, he gripped your wrist and slammed it to the table by your head.

"No." His voice was hoarse, after all this time he strained for control.

"Please." You muttered through earth shaking moans.

He grinned cockily down at that. You'd never begged before. "Say it again."

"Please."

The redhead nodded, picking up the already brutal pace, definitely bruising you but the pain felt too good with his thrusts. Your heat began, contracting around him as the coil in your belly threatened to snap. Finally as you came undone with a scream, pulling his hair gently you could feel his thrusts grow uneasy and he spilled his seed into you. His face dropped into your neck. As he withdrew after a moment, you felt the warmth run down your thigh but you focused on your breathing and the muscles of his body.

"Move to Riften." His voice was rough.

"What? Why?"

"If you're here, I can fuck you like this everyday."

A/N: Waking to this was an experience.

[cramberrytea]

How Could an Angel Break My Heart?

Characters: Kaidan x Kimiya (Original Character)

Summary: Reminiscing, and a constant reminder of their shattered friendship.

Word Count: 5,191

Warnings: a lil spicyy, LIKE A MILLIMETER OF SPICE I SWEAR, Mallus Maccius

A few wee notes:

the main character is a redguard woman (she's black y'all). while i describe her in detail please feel free to envision her however you'd like.

title is from the song "How Could an Angel Break My Heart" by toni braxton and babyface

Chapter 4 (Acquaintances)

⋆｡‧˚ʚChapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“You’re so slow Miya!! Can’t catch me like that!” The little black haired boy called out as he stood firm, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice.

The said girl came running up the hill after him, pouting with her brows furrowed. Her forest green dress had mud stains littering it, and her chubby little legs had them too. Leaves and small twigs poked out from her kinky curly fro. Her hair bouncing, occasionally freeing a leaf or two from her curly tresses.

Just as she was only a few feet from the boy, he jumped to the side before running a few feet away again. She halted to a stop, teetering over slightly threatening to fall into the grass. Thankfully she was able to regain her balance. She huffed before turning towards the direction he went. However in the same fashion as before he was able to dodge and run the opposite direction. Kimiya let out a groan in frustration, getting absolutely fed up.

Her head whipped towards the direction he went in, her face nearly red in rage. This time instead of just running at him, once she got closer she leaped off the ground in an attempt to tackle him. The boy’s eyes widened as he jumped to the side, this action causing Kimiya to fall face first into the mud puddle with a loud squish. Mud flew in all directions. The boy uttered an “oh shit” before rushing to the side of his friend.

“Miya, are you okay?” He asked, grabbing both her hands as she sat up from the messy puddle. He pulled her out of the puddle. Kimiya’s entire face was covered in the sop, her curls clumping together due to the mud. The entire dress was ruined, at least you could still see the green before she fell, now it should be considered a brown dress.

“I hate you, Kaidan!! You never play fair!” She cries out, tears flowing out her brown eyes. Her little hands came up wiping her eyes sobbing into her hands.

“It’s not my fault you chose to jump at me!” He argues back, crossing his arms, turning his back on her. At this she sobbed louder into her hands, sniffling and her shoulders trembling.

Kaidan’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lip into a firm line. Hearing her sobs made him look down at his feet, feeling worse. He let out a sigh before turning back around.

Kimiya saw from the cracks in her fingers his figure crouching down beside her. She felt his hands gingerly grab hers and pull them from her face. She looked up at him curiously, as he gripped her hand. He slowly pulled her to her feet walking towards the river close by the cottage. He sat her down on a large rock close to the river’s edge. She grew even more inquisitive as he ripped the bottom part of his tunic off so he had a thin cloth in his hands. He dunked the material in the running water unceremoniously, before beginning to rub the dirt off her face.

She pulled away, turning away from him angrily to which he grabbed her hand again pulling her back gently.

“Stop it!” He says firmly, eyes narrowed. Can’t she see he’s trying to help? Her eyes narrowed back towards him, not backing down. He sighed again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” He looks down again, kneeling in front of her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, or your feelings. Can you forgive me?” He finally asks, before looking up.

At this she looked back towards the boy kneeling in front of her.

“Are you kids okay, did something happen?” A soft worried voice called out, causing both kids to look back up towards the cottage. A woman in a simple brown and tan dress stood the the front door, peering down at the duo.

“Yes mom!” Kimiya yelled back, she looked back at the black haired boy below her. She had to think of something. She thought of the only thing that made sense in her child-mind.

“Kaidan’s proposing!” This caused the boy's cheeks to turn just as bright red as his eyes. So flabbergasted he attempted to let out an “Am not!” However Kimiya’s mom beat him to it.

“Well that’s going to have to wait till after supper! Hurry up before the stew gets cold!” She laughs out before retreating back into the small home.

Kimiya looked back at Kaidan with a smug look on her face. He leered at her, a grumpy look on her face.

“Apology accepted. Plus I kept you from getting in trouble with mommy!”

He rolled his eyes, before going back to cleaning off her chubby cheeks. After several swipes and scrubs the dirt was almost barely visible.

The boy stood up again, holding out a stubby hand.

“Ready?” He asked, to which she nodded, grabbing his hand; allowing him to pull her up and guide her to her feet. Once she stood fully on her feet, an idea came to mind. An attempt to make the energy comfortable.

“I bet I can beat you to the house!” She claimed. A grin stretched across his face at the sound of the challenge.

“You’re on!” He accepted the challenge with a glint of determination in his eyes.

“When I win, you have to marry me for real!” She said, crossing her arms.

“When I win, you have to go hunting with me.” He said, crossing his arms.

“123 GO!” Kimiya rushes out, running a slightly earlier than the word “GO”

“Cheater!” Kaidan called out as he attempted to catch up.

Kaidan’s inner clock woke him up roughly at the same time he heard Kimiya shuffling about. As he cracked his eye open he saw her body hunched over her pack, taking inventory of everything she had. He heard her mumble to herself, counting.

“Ok 4 healing potions, 5 apples, 5 stamina potions and… wait is it… do I have my…” She mumbles incoherently.

“Okay, uhm okay so… one two…”

He pushed himself up on his forearms, letting out a hardy yawn in the process. The sound that escaped his lips caught the attention of the woman beside him. Kimiya looked over her shoulder.

“Morning.” She greeted with a nod of acknowledgement, before turning back towards the task at hand

“I’m assuming you slept well, judging by the drool on your chin.” She grinned evilly to herself, practically hearing the man scramble to wipe his chin and mouth. At the feeling of his dry chin he halted, giving her a deadpan stare.

“Kidding.” She says nonchalantly. Without even having to look back to see his expression she knew the expression he bore, and the fact he caught onto her little ruse. He huffed, sitting up and shrugging on an undershirt before putting on his armor.

“Well you can’t blame me if I was. S’not every weekend you get captured and tortured by the Thalmor.”

Kimiya bit the inside of her lip when hearing this, reminded of the state she found her childhood friend in. She turned back towards him, closing up her pack.

“How are you feeling by the way?” She asks softly.

“I’ll be fine, been through worse.” He responds dispondantly, his eyes still trained on the bag in front of him. He stands up, swigging his pack onto his back with a huff. He turns towards the woman below him before holding out his gloved hand.

“Ready? Or do you need to count everything in your pack one more time?” He said with a smug expression plastered on his face.

“Oh Haha. Did anyone ever tell you you’re so hilarious?” She replies with sarcasm etched into every word. She takes his hand before finally standing on her feet. Letting go of his hand she stepped towards the creaky wooden door, pulling it open with two strong tugs.

The morning light was a stark contrast to the dark and dingy color pallet that was inside the abandoned prison. The sun was shining from just below the top of the trees. The sun's rays peeking through the various leaves and branches. There was a soothing smell in the air due to the rain from last night.

The road to Whiterun was silent, aside from the sounds of bird chirping and the occasional rustle of bushes or the occasional wolf attack. Kimiya had her hands on her hips, and she was staring up at the blue sky. She occasionally stretched her neck, and cracked her knuckles. Every now and again her eyes would glance towards Kaidan. It was weird. It’s been five years, the longest they’ve ever been apart. Truly it was like seeing a ghost. Has he changed? Was he the same? Did his favorite color change? Has he learned anything about his past? His heritage? Why did she even suggest that he accompany her on her mission? Why was she continuously giving him chances and chances? She might have been staring for too long.

“Glad to see you’ve developed a staring problem.” He teased without taking his eyes off the road ahead. So she in fact was staring for too long.

“Just trying to figure out why in all these four years you didn’t get a haircut.” She shot back thoughtlessly before turning back towards the rocky path ahead.

“Dunno, never had any complaints about it before. Think it suits me.”

By the Nine it did.

“Whatever floats your boat I guess.” She shrugs.

“What’re we doing in Whiterun?” He asks, finally taking his eyes off the road to look at his traveling companion. The timing was perfect too, as the Hold’s capital came into view. Dragons Reach was impressive, and was the first thing they noticed.

“Got a job to do.”

“What kind of job?”

“Espionage.”

Kaidan quirked an eyebrow at this, intrigued.

“Espionage, eh?” He said, swatting away a cluster of gnats. “Didn’t know you were in the business of…spying. How’d you get involved in that?”

Kimiya recalled her first year with the Thieves Guild.

“We’ll save that story for a tavern.” She smiles softly at the memories as she adjusted the pack on her shoulders.

It was then Kaidan’s turn to have a staring problem, He watched as she took a few strides ahead of him. Part of him was happy to see she was doing well, and that she was well off. She had some sort of form of income, she had stories to tell, and adventures to recall. The deep and buried part of him was bitter. Bitter that he couldn’t be there to experience those adventures, tell the other half of their stories. Make a life with her. He knew it was no one’s fault but his own. Maybe another even deeper part of him, hoped he could make that life with her…now?

Abruptly Kimiya takes a sharp turn, causing Kaidan to look towards her then towards the road before following not far behind. He watched her come upon some large bushes. She looked around for what Kaidan assumed were any possible threats. Once the coast was clear she rummaged through her pack, pulling out a second pair of clothes. Her brown eyes darted towards Kaidan. Her bag went soaring into his arms, he caught it expertly before looking at her confused.

“Keep an eye out for people.” She orders, he gives her a nod before turning around keeping an eye out for any people around. He didn’t completely understand why, but he’d ask questions later. However once he heard a shift in the bushes behind him he directed his attention towards the noise. He didn’t expect to see her bare back. His eyes involuntarily shifted down her toned back. Her soft skin caught the sunlight in such a way that made it seem like she was glowing, almost as if flakes of gold were embedded in her skin. He realized the hard stare he had on her when he watched her slide on a white blouse. He quickly averted his eyes, staring at the road ahead. That however, didn’t stop the blush from forming on his cheeks.

After about a minute or two Kimiya finally came clamoring over to his side. She had tripped over a rock or two, but she’d rather die than tell Kaidan that. She brushed off her brown skirts and adjusted her corset, which she opted for as opposed to her leather armor. Looking like an ordinary civilian She reached her arm out towards Kaidan. He wordlessly handed her back her pack.

“Thanks.” Kimiya says as she grabs her bag and tosses it over her shoulder.

But before walking away was even an option Kimiya looked Kaidan up and down. His heavy armor catches in the light from the sun shining above. His long sword strapped to his back. He was sure to draw attention. Kaidan watched her look him up and down with a confused and flustered look on his face, and his face only flushed more when she spoke.

“Do you have anything under that?”

He blinked, bewildered before answering truthfully.

“Y-“ A squeak left his lips as he tried to speak. He coughed into his fist clearing his throat.

“Yes.” His voice deeper than usual

“Good. I need that armor off.”

“You what?”

Kimiya sighs before tapping on the armor, her nails making a dinging noise each time they rapped against the metal.

“Off. Now.”

“Why?” He asked, his cheeks growing slightly pink. His voice slightly higher pitched and more urgent, his eyes wide.

Kimiya scrunched her face up in annoyance and confusion.

“What the…why are you stressing? Your armor is way too flashy. Well I mean…so are you. But you’ll be the talk of the hold if you walk in like that. A red-eyed swordsman? Oh yeah, if I were a simple farm hand that’s all I’d be talking about.” Kimiya explains with her hands on her hips, her tone irritated that she had to explain all this. But then again this is Kaidan we’re talking about, man couldn’t sneak up on someone in a dark, and noisy room.

“Oh. Of course.” He blushes even harder, now at his mistake of reading her intentions wrong.

Once the final piece of his armor was taken off and stuffed into his pack Kimiya did a once over again. Nodding in approval.

“It’ll do.” She says, his loose cream colored shirt hanging from his body. The strings which tighten and close the dip in his shirt hung loosely down his chest. His trousers also hung loosely and bunched slightly at his boots. He looked like a normal, regular, schmegular guy. Those boots however, the spikes protruding out of them definitely were out of place with the rest of his attire. It will have to do, hopefully no one will look down.

“Ready?” She asks, looking up at him. Kaidan nodded wordlessly, his cheeks still slightly flushed, walking back towards the path.

After about an hour the duo was face to face with Whiterun, the bustling capital city of Whiterun Hold, aptly named indeed. The sun was reaching the apex of the sky and its rays engulfed Whiterun’s residents in a comforting blanket of warmth. A few people peeked up to see who was entering their city. A few quirked their eyebrows at the duo before going about their day.

The sound of tiny fast paced footsteps made its way to Kaidan’s ears before the source of the sound was exposed. The sight of children running past Kaidan and Kimiya made him let out a small smile. Their shouts and giggles grow softer and softer as they run down the cobblestone path. Kaidan’s eyes remained on the group of kids, a smile still prominent on his face.

“You’re so slow, Miya!”

The gentle breeze and the soothing sound of rushing water filled his subconscious and the sight of Kimiya's bright smile flashed through his mind. The outside world became fuzzier and fuzzier as the world inside his mind became clearer and clearer.

Kimiya on the other hand was more concerned about her current job. Gather information on Honningbrew Meadery. Maven was a woman you wouldn’t want to cross, but she paid well when you worked for her. She was a scary woman, to say the least, and messing up on a job was not an option. Luckily, however, that’s not something Kimiya does. She had her eyes on every person outside surveying and analyzing them as they walked past, looking over every building in view. As they continued down the path a sign came into view which read “The Bannered Mare.” What better place to rest your head than a place filled with ale and mead.

The Bannered Mare was roughly empty at this time of day besides a few patrons grabbing drinks early in the morning, or grabbing a bite to eat. Kimiya’s kind of people. A cozy fire burned brightly in the center of the inn filling the room with a comfortable warmth, its lighting enveloping the space in a soft warm lighting. Kimiya’s eyes drifted over to the counter, a seemingly middle aged woman tended to the surface. Possibly the owner. She wiped down several spills and some unidentifiable messes that stained the wood counter.

Kimiya began her stride towards the woman the moment her eyes met her. Kaidan followed behind her, allowing her to take the lead. Kimiya waltzed up to the counter, a bright smile plastered on her face. The brunette woman behind the counter peeked up from her current task to view her current patrons. She straightens her back to her full height, putting on a pleasant smile as she pushes the rag she was using to the corner of the counter.

“Good Morning. What can I do for the two of you?” She asks.

“Hi, We’d like to rent a room for the next three days.” Kimiya replied with rehearsed politeness.

After paying for, and being shown their room Kimiya plopped on the king sized bed dumping her pack on the bed. Kaidan stepped inside taking a quick survey of the room, acknowledging any exits and entrances. He locked the door behind him before taking a seat at a chair by a small accent table. He groaned once his pack left its position on his shoulders and made its way onto the floor. He cracked his neck and stretched his arms to relieve the tension in his neck, his back, and his shoulders. It was always good to sit down after many hours of travel. Kaidan peeked up at Kimiya.

“So now can you explain why we’re here?” Kaidan asks, leaning back in his chair.

Kimiya glances at the door before lowering her voice.

“I’m here to gather some intel on Honningbrew Meadery.”

“For who?”

“...Maven Blackbriar.” Kimiya answers her voice almost impossibly low, it was truly a miracle that Kaidan heard the name that left her lips

He pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating and digesting the name that left her lips. It’s no secret that Maven Black-Briar is an infamous woman, her reputation precedes her for sure.

“What do you need me to do?” He says simply.

Kimiya’s serious demeanor melted and a smile emerged from beneath.

“Follow my lead.”

It was best to get to work as quickly as possible, due to Maven not being a woman who liked to be kept waiting, among other reasons. That’s why the pair exited the inn and made their way to Honningbrew as soon as they had a game plan, also not before stopping to buy Kaidan new boots. However after slapping a few shiny septims on Belethor’s counter they were finally on their way.

Once the pair stepped inside the meadery Kimiya’s eyes immediately went to survey the area. Straight ahead was a bar counter, a few tankard and goblets coupled with bottles of mead were grouped on the counter spaced neatly. Behind the counter was a shelf with extra tankards and goblets, and some extra bottles of mead. Off to the right and the left were a few chairs and tables, most likely for those coming in for a tasting. On the right was a door leading to another room.

“I don’t care how long it takes, get rid of our little problem or I’ll be adding some interest to your loan, Mallus”

Kimiya’s eyes darted over to where the venom filled voice came from. A second voice begrudgingly agrees to the terms. Not long after a man walks out of the room off to the right. Sabjorn, it’s gotta be. Sabjorn’s entire being perks up at seeing Kimiya and Kaidan standing by the door. He steps behind the counter and greets the pair with a rehearsed smile.

“Ah, so sorry for the wait. How can I help you both?”

Kimiya responds with her own rehearsed smile.

“Please! No apologies necessary.” She waves off his concern.

”My husband and I were interested in a tasting.” Kimiya’s arm links under Kaidan's, pulling him closer and resting her head on the peak of his shoulder.

For a moment she really felt like she could stay like this. The warmth of his arm against her side. Her head leaning against him and her arm wrapped his arm claiming him in a way. The façade poked around in her brain and heart more than she liked. It opened her mind to the possibilities of that happening, or what could have happened rather. Kaidan’s gaze traveled downwards, he didn’t mean to tense up briefly. However he loses up slightly. Though he bit back the urge to melt too much into her. He also sends a, less rehearsed, smile towards the man.

“Of course, please take a seat and my assistant will be right over.”

The pair nods before taking a seat at a table in the corner by the double doors to the right. Kimiya watches as Sabjorn disappears into the other room, accompanied by hushed and harsh whispered words. Already a few ideas were brewing in her head at how she could get some of the information Maven needed. Her contemplation and peace was interrupted by ghostly apparition. Kimiya jolted slightly in her seat once she laid eyes on the being.

“Welcome, what can I get for you two today?”

Oh. The pale greasy man looks down expectantly. His thin brow quirks as he peers down at her with his cold blue eyes through his dark and sunken eyes. Mallus, she presumed. Kimiya pauses for a few seconds to completely understand what the hell just happened. An awkward smile stretches across her face as collects herself.

“Hi…” Kimiya trails off, clearly caught off guard and trying her best to get her bearings.

“Just two bottles of mead for us,” Kimiya pauses before leaning closer to the pale man, much to her dismay.

“Add a third bottle as well, it’s my husband’s birthday and he can’t get enough of this stuff.” She chuckles politely adding to her façade of a happily married customer.

Kaidan looks at her with a raised brow..

”You make me out to be some sort of a drunk, wife.” He grits out her faux title.

”If you weren’t drinking it all the time, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so ashamed, Husband.” Her lips stretch into a tight smile as she bickers with him over this fabricated scenario, okay maybe they were leaning into the argument prone kind of couple.

Their poor server of sorts simply took a breath of agitation before stepping behind the counter and coming back with the three bottles as directed, patience clearly thin. Mallus had no desire to continue any conversation, so he didn’t. He simply left their table to… hopefully wash his hair.

The moment he leaves Kimiya relaxes slightly, her eyes darting around the room as she grasps the bottle of mead in her hand. Already without doing much digging she already figured out two weak points in this company’s foundations. A disgruntled, and seemingly bitter employee, and a problem. Now, just to poke at those weak points.

“What are you doing?” A sharp venomous voice sounded from the back room.

”Nothing, boss.”

“Exactly, you’re doing nothing. Get your lazy ass up and put in some work! What do I even pay you for?”

“You don’t pay me. I’m working for free until I can pay off this godforsaken loan.”

“See that’s the problem, I gave you an opportunity to pay me back, yet you sit here and complain. You eat my food for free, and you drink up my mead like a damn leech.”

Ouch. After a few moments of silence the pale man came out, his face hardened and his lips downturned into a scowl. Kimiya and Kaidan’s eyes immediately turn away as if they weren’t paying attention to every word of that argument. The man begrudgingly walked over to the table the two of them sat at.

”Can I get you both anything else?” Mallus asks begrudgingly.

Kimiya offers a sympathetic and warm smile, this was the perfect opening.

“We’re good. Thank you.”

At this, he automatically turns around to leave, until Kimiya speaks up.

“If I may…” She begins, voice laced with intentional empathy. “I apologize for eavesdropping, but no one deserves to be spoken to like that. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” She says softly enough so Sabjorn couldn’t hear.

“Save your pity for someone who needs it, lady.” He grunts with a scowl.

“It’s not pity. It’s the truth, lad.” Kaidan pipes up, catching onto Kimiya’s plan. He leans back, crossing his arms over his broad chest exuding confidence. Kaidan’s agreement seemed to take an edge off the man’s aggression. Kimiya, noticing this, holds back an eye roll.

“It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it. My circumstances aren’t exactly ideal” The sickly pale man replies, his eyes darting to the side door making sure his boss wasn’t privy to their conversation.

Despite her agitation with Mallus, she was grateful for Kaidan’s ability to get him to open up.

“Even so, you shouldn’t take that from anyone. What makes him so high and mighty that he gets to treat you like a slave?” Kimiya chimes in, her voice laced with thinly concealed anger. All according to plan.

Kaidan reaches out placing a hand on her’s looking at her with concerned and loving eyes. A grin almost spread across her lips at the ease in which he assisted her in her plan.

She sighs before looking away rubbing her faux husband’s hand on top of her’s.

“I’m sorry, love. You know much things like this bother me…” Kimiya says, her brows furrowed and a slight frown on her face.

A small snort almost left Kaidan’s lips, before he covered his mouth and the blooming snicker attempting to snake its way out. Kimiya, practically smelling the slight falter in his facade, kept her eyes low. She knew that looking at him for even a split second would break the dam of cackles sitting ready in her belly.

However Mallus was unaware of their internal struggle, instead he pondered for a few moments. He sat with those words, must he be treated like a slave for his past transgressions. Must he be worked to the bone and made to suffer, to try and pay back a loan he had no idea if he could ever really pay off anyway? No…no this wasn’t right.

“You’re right, it isn’t okay!” Mallus looks back up at the couple, a newfound feeling of conviction running through his veins. However that was replaced with confusion at the sight of empty chairs, and a slightly emptier table, aside from the stack of gold that had been left for him.

As soon as the front door closed completely Kimiya fell into a fit of laughter, the cackle dam bursting open violently. The violent nature of the bursting dam caused a snort to erupt from her, which in turn caused Kaidan to howl with laughter and grip his stomach. The sound of Kaidan’s laughter made Kimiya’s chest grow warm. She gazes up at him for a moment, the warm glow of sunlight catching in his raven hair, illuminating his skin. The corners of his mouth creasing, his eyes screwed shut as he revels in the jovial nature of this moment. Before she could take the time to process what kinds of feelings this reawakened, she turned away her laughter dying.

“So how’d I do? Think I could do some spying of my own?” He sends her a charming smile, which she would desperately deny that it her heart do a barrel roll or two.

“You were decent enough.” She replies curtly as she walks a little bit ahead of him.

Kaidan’s previous jovial expression fell as the coldness from her words settled on him. His lips downturn into a frown as a sigh leaves his lips, slightly bitter from the subtle reminder of their broken relationship. His thoughts were cut short the moment a massive shadow cast itself upon the road they were walking on, however as quickly as it appeared it vanished. The sudden change in lighting had the two looking towards the sky. It couldn’t be a cloud. Clouds don’t appear and disappear in mere moments. The moment their eyes met with the sky above their question was answered. However that answer came at a cost, a huge one and the haunting, ground shaking roar that came from above solidified that.

Humongous black wings, a shiny and scaly black hide. A body bigger than a damn house gliding on air as if it was part of the wind itself. If you hadn’t been already staring at the sky, or been standing in its shadow, you would have missed it. It was there, then gone in an instant. It was as if the world was frozen in the exact moment forever. The seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like days. There weren’t many things that drove Kimiya to silence, however this was one of them.

Her eyes were wide as the feeling of pure dread crept up her spine. There was only one thing that could be, and neither Kimiya nor Kaidan had expected to see one in their lifetime. Not since they were killed off in the First Era. The two were entirely entranced, enthralled and horrified. The moment that the roars subsided and dampened due to the distance, was the moment they were released from their stupor.

The first thing Kaidan looked at was Kimiya, and the first thing Kimiya did was take off. Her feet hit the ground running, and her hands let go of the bottle of mead in her hand. The amber colored bottle shattered the moment it hit the cobblestone road. At the sight of Kimiya taking off, Kaidan's first response was to follow. He narrowly dodged the broken glass and deep brown liquid. He was hot on her trail. The moment the bridge just below the waterfall came into view she hooked right. Towards Riverwood.

[sparrow-malfoy]

I will write character preferences and headcanons for these characters and feel free to give me characters that you want me to add in

Requests: Open

Nemesis {Residents evil 3}

Brynjolf {skyrim}

Teldryn sero {skyrim}

Wrench {watch dogs 2 & 3}

Asa emory {the collector}

Jesse chromeans {laid to rest}

Jason Voorhees {Friday the 13th}

Elam drals {elder scrolls online}

Miraak {skyrim}

Send me character suggestions and I will look them up to do the fic

What I will write

Smut, fluff, pretty much any kinks, angst, I will write for female readers and gender neutral ONLY.

What I won't write

Pedophilia, little space, incest, rape, I will do consensual dub cun though, anything to do with age role-playing, body horror, racism, homophobia, sexism, I won't do request for plus size readers, reader withbig breasts, anything that describes what the reader might look like.

I want you/ reader to be able to actually read my work like a true reader fiction, so no names or anything that physically describes the reader.

Send me ideas or new characters to add especially from video games and horror movies.

[smutty-skyrim]

Keeping Quiet || Brynjolf X Reader

WARNING: NSFW

Pairing: Brynjolf x Fem!Reader

Contains: Public Sex, Mild Dirty Talk

Your heart slams against your ribs as you tear through the empty Riften streets. The cobblestone road before you is lit by the full moons looming overhead. A sack of gold jingles at your hip with each step.

Your lungs burn and your legs ache. Pinpricks of sweat dot your forehead, chilling your skin in the cool night air.

You glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of your partner, Brynjolf. With any luck he hasn't been snagged by the authorities yet. Of course, the smooth talker could surely work his way out without a hitch. Still, too much risk for your taste. Even if that is a thief's way.

You spot the man close behind, copper hair covered by his dark hood. No guards are in sight.

A smile tugs at your lips. You might actually get away with this.

You bound over a rusted metal gate. It rattles behind you as Brynjolf makes the hurtle. Just a little further and you'll be at the back entrance to the Thieves Guild and away from prying eyes.

The dewdrop covered grass of the cemetery muffles the sound of your boots. You rush past the worn, crooked headstones and into the small mausoleum. You only notice Brynjolf's arrival behind you by the shadow looming across the floor.

You press the weathered button on the sarcophagus. With the harsh sound of stone against stone, the floor opens and gives way to a familiar staircase.

A firm hand on your lower back guides you down the steps.

"Gotta love those close calls, eh, lass?" Brynjolf's hushed voice wears a chuckle. Through the shadow of his hood you see a twinkle in his emerald eyes.

"You're saying that like I had some part in this." You reply with a whisper.

"Oh? Where else do you suggest we put that blame?"

"On the guy who slapped my ass while I was trying to pick a lock." You stifle a laugh.

"Ah, but you're the one who made that precious little sound."

"You mean the yelp that got us busted?" You smirk and pull the weathered chain hanging from the wall. With a groan the ceiling above you begins to slide shut.

"That would be the one." He gives a devilish smile - the last thing you see before the entrance is closed and the alcove is submerged in darkness. "We both know you're not the best at keeping quiet."

Your face flushes. You blindly reach out in the black to smack his arm. The back of your hand slaps off leather. "I'm quiet!"

"Aye, which is why we almost always get busted when we try to have fun in-"

"The training room is just echoey!" You reply, obstinate. "That's on the room. I'm perfectly inconspicuous."

Brynjolf leans in close. His nose brushes your temple and his breath is hot on your ear. "You sound mighty confident in yourself, lass. Care to put that to the test?"

Your breath catches in your throat. "What are you suggesting?"

"A challenge of sorts." He purrs as his hand catches yours. He places a kiss by your ear and another beneath it. "What do you say?"

"What are the stakes?"

"Simple: if you lose, we get caught." His other hand finds your face. A thumb brushes your lips. Using his fingertips as a guide, his mouth finds its way to yours. His lips gently press against yours, lingering for only a moment.

"And if I win?" You ask through uneven breaths.

"Isn't this a victory enough?" He catches your lower lip between his. His hand slips from your cheek to your waist where he pulls you flush against his body. He guides you backwards, step by step, until your back is pressed to the cold stone wall. His chest is warm against you, igniting the heat in your stomach.

He trails his lips back to your ear where he nibbles on the lobe. You choke back a giggle as feather light kisses tickle their way down your neck.

You reach your free hand out. Your fingertips find his thigh and slowly trace upwards, dipping in toward his groin as they travel.

He deftly snatches your wrist and pins both of your hands to the wall above your head. Your arms are stretched, and you find yourself feeling vulnerable in his grasp.

"Not so fast there, love. I'm the one who issued the challenge. Which means I'm the one calling the shots." He says.

You whine under your breath. You arch your back and press against him. His length is pressed hard against your stomach through his leather pants.

He shifts his hands, taking both of yours in one of his and holding them tight against the wall. His free hand begins to wander. Fingers comb through your hair and trail gently down your neck. They run along your collarbone before slipping to your breasts.

He takes one in his hand through your cuirass. He sighs, squeezing  and palming at an exploratory pace. He finds the movements that earn delighted gasps and keeps with them. Your face is flushed as he rubs your pert nipple through the leather. The sensation - though muted - sets a fire alight between your legs. The buffer of the fabric only makes you long for more.

His hand travels down along your stomach. He traces the waistband of your pants, chuckling as you squirm beneath his touch. Inquisitive fingers slip beneath and head to your clit.

He rubs small, gentle circles. The motions are slow and methodical. He listens for when your breath catches, judging his pace carefully.

He places a kiss on your lips. You part them, allowing his tongue to graze yours. You move with each other, each gesture building the heat.

You buck against his hand.

He picks up speed, pressing firmer against your sensitive clit.

A moan bubbles out, stifled by the kiss.

He pulls back. "Careful, lass. Don't want to get caught in any compromising positions."

You pout - something lost to the dark surrounding you.

He applies more pressure to your clit. The movements grow faster. His fingers become slick with your fluids. You writhe against his hand, desperate for more friction.

The tension between your hips builds. With hitching breath you spread your legs further.

Closer you climb. Pleasured sighs escape your lips.

"You make the sweetest sounds." Brynjolf whispers as he leans against you, hard cock pressed to your hip. "I wonder if they'll hear you cum for me."

You shake your head and stifle a giggle. They won't hear a thing. If someone comes up the exit they'll be met with dark and silence. You'll be composed as ever. You'll keep your ecstasy fluttering between your ribs, hidden from the others. Brynjolf won't get the better of you.

He pauses, pulling his fingers back and letting the still air around your swollen clit taunt you.

"Please," you whimper, "please, I'm so close."

"Ah, but I'm just getting started." He replies, honeyed voice low.

He releases your wrists and grabs hold of your pants. He yanks them down and they drop to your ankles.

"Bryn, what if someone-"

You're cut off by his lips crashing against yours. You hear his hands fumbling with the fastenings of his pants.

He grabs your legs and hoists them around his hips. His head rests at your entrance.

He breaks the kiss and returns the attention to your ear, kissing behind it and nibbling the cartilage. You each for him tangling one hand in his hair and bracing the other on his broad chest.

Slowly he pushes into you. It's done with ease. You're wet from the foreplay and your skin prickles with anticipation. His fingertips dig into your thighs.

He thrusts at an agonizing pace, taking his time and never quite reaching the hilt. He keeps his hips away from yours, keeping the noise to a minimum. Instead of the slapping of skin you hear the wet sounds of your cunt, and his deep, uneven breaths.

With each roll of hips hips, pleasure seeps through you. Your clit aches, desperate for more stimulation. It's jostled slightly as he thrusts, but it's not enough. His skin is so close, yet so far as he fucks you.

He steadily gains speed.

You try and listen past the slick sounds and to the noise of the cistern rising up from the hole in the floor nearby. You can't hear much, just faint murmuring. You hope nobody is coming, but you can't be sure. That fact alone sends a rush of warmth through your body.

"What would they think if they caught us?" Brynjolf's voice is hushed and ragged. "With how fast word travels in the guild...." His grip tightens. "The looks we'd get in the Flagon..."

He thrusts and his cock brushes a sensitive spot. It makes your toes curl. His name threatens to spill from your lips. You bite your cheeks to silence it.

His hips snap against yours. You squeak out a whine. Your face burns.

He repeats the motion. You push back against him. The small alcove is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Your ear is caught by an indistinct voice nearby. You only catch a couple of words: "... out for a bit..."

Niruin.

Your heart stops.

Brynjolf doesn't.

The thought of getting caught with him between your legs sends a spasm through your pussy. He groans. His pace verges on erratic.

Niruin can be heard from below, closer: "Try making a request before I'm heading out the door next time, would you, Rune?"

You're running out of time. He'll be at the ladder any moment, and you'll be rushing to hide your shame. You'll be fumbling to pull your pants up and brush your hair into place, but nothing will hide your frazzled face in the moonlight.

Brynjolf's hips crash into yours.

The noise. The risk. The sensation.

You bury your face in his chest as the knot releases. Waves of pleasure wash over you. You cum around his length, fluids seeping down his shaft. His motions never slow as your legs squeeze tight around him.

"Bryn-"

A hand clamps over your mouth. His name devolves into a moan - a sound that sends him over the edge. He groans, thrusting deeper, shameless in the sound your hips name. He fills you, sticky semen pumping into you.

He lingers with his hips pressed flush to yours. There are hot puffs of air against your neck as he pants.

"Well done, lass." He says. He removes his hand from your mouth and lowers your feet to the floor. You regain your balance on wobbly legs. You are suddenly acutely aware of how your limbs are trembling.

He pulls up your pants. You feel his cum leak into your panties as he fastens the button.

You only notice Niruin's approach when the wood planks covering the hole in the floor are removed. A dim light floods the area.

The elf pokes his head up and greets you.

"Oh! (Y/N). Brynjolf. See you two made it back alright." His eyes linger on your face, then shift to your partner's.

"Careful out there tonight. Seems we might have riled up the guards a bit." Brynjolf replies with forced nonchalance.

Niruin gives a chuckle - one far too knowing for your taste - and pulls the chain on the wall. "Riled up, is it?"

You narrow your eyes, staring daggers at Brynjolf. The man replies with a smirk and a halfhearted shrug.

"I'm sure I'll be just fine." Niruin says, heading up the stairs as the pathway opens before him. "You two, have fun..."

[drunkdaisychains]

Sneak Thief

Summery: Nox Donnahue is a young imperial woman who spends her time enjoying larceny and romance with dangerous men instead of becoming an imperial soldier like her brother. After a difficult conversation with her lover and the man who saved her life, Thyrnn, she decides she needs time to herself. Let’s see what Whiterun has to offer.

Warnings: swearing, smut, violence, trauma

parings: Thrynn/oc, Farkas/oc, 

A/N: I’m trying out this new story but the plot isn’t concrete and basically is just a way to maladaptive daydream so i can avoid my real life. I’ve always seen Thrynn mentioned and characterized as a bit of a dick so I wanted to see where the old “Is a dick to everyone else but me” trope brought me.let me know what you think. Also I’m almost done Aera the Fair and her story has 8 published chapters now. probably only 3 more until the story is done

Chapter 1: No Interuptions

“Stop thief!” The estate owner yelled after the leather clad imperial woman as she raced from the cellar doors she just emerged from clutching a rather valuable jewelled necklace. The wisps of dark hair that couldn’t be contained in her long braid weren’t being blown from her eyes due to her leather hood that shadowed her face and she cursed under her breath as they tickled her forehead and threatened to invade her sight. Her legs burned as she pushed them to carry her farther and faster than she had run in a while. She rounded a rock formation and almost smacked into the solid man who stood there. She could hear the rumble of a chuckle come from his chest as she pulled him down into a crouch in case that owner was still hot on her tail. 

  “Delvin is right, we are cursed!” She panted. 

  “Get back here!” The owner yelled in the distance.

  “Come on,” His familiar voice was raspy as usual with a slight accent she couldn’t place on the nord. He pulled her up by her arm and the two sprinted deeper into the foliage until they found his horse. He swung on and held a hand out for her to climb on just behind his saddle. “Hold on,” he ordered and she snaked her arms around his waist. The horse kicked up into a gallop as they raced towards Shor’s Stone. She thanked the gods that he had finished up his job in time to pick her up. She could have been cut to ribbons by now if he hadn’t shown. 

He finally slowed his horse down to a walk after he was sure they were far enough. She rested her forehead on his bare bicep and breathed a sigh of relief.

   “What happened back there, Nox?” he asked. 

   “We do this for the rush right?” she breathed out her cynical joke. 

   “Nothing beats how you can keep that rush going,” he chuckled and placed a hand on hers. She knew he wanted to move it lower and with the adrenaline still pumping through her veins she reached up and kissed his neck. That’s all he needed, they had just come to a small clearing in the trees. He swung his leg over the horse’s neck and slid off the saddle after stopping the horse. He reached up and wrapped his hands around her waist as she was about to slide off and helped her down. Instead of letting go when she was safe on the ground he pulled her in close catching her full lips in a hungry kiss. This wasn’t unusual for them, there had been a few times when one of them would rush into the secret entrance running from a job as the other was about to leave, they would indulge in the thrill from it. She had a weakness for the nord’s large arms and his fearless attitude. 

   “Thrynn,” She moaned as his lips trailed down her neck, sending chills up her spine. Her fingers found the waist hem of his pants and his hands cupped her bum. Just as they were getting heated, a howl echoed through the trees. 

   “Wolves,” She whispered and he cursed through his teeth, clearly frustrated at the interruption. 

   “Keeps the rush going,” she reminded him as she backed out of his arms and readied her bow with an arrow and aimed it at one of the advancing wolves behind him. She let it fly and it pierced between the eyes killing the wolf instantly. Thrynn turned unsheathing his sword as the second wolf emerged from the bushes. He skillfully swung at the beast and she let another arrow soar into the ribcage. Finally with a powerful swing his sword sunk deep into the wolf’s neck causing it to go limp and fall off his blade. His chest heaved as he caught his breath and met her eyes. She pulled off her quiver and tossed it to the ground by the wolf. He dropped his sword and with two long strides he was pulling her face to his to resume what they had started with a bit more thrill than before. 

   He backed her up to a tree, pinning her against it with his body weight. They wasted no time with undressing this time lest they be interrupted again instead opting for exposing the necessities. They were far from any civilization or roads, still a ways away from Shor’s Stone. 

   His fingers were skilled as they tugged at her armour and then her under clothes. His fingers were calloused and rough from all his time training and fighting, but the way he used them were gentle and with care. He knew exactly how to make her come undone and be completely his. She pulled away from his lips as his fingers slipped into her, causing a gasp to escape her rosy lips. He stared down at her with a mischievous look, in moments she was trembling in his arms whimpering. Her head spun with pleasure and before she could get her bearings, he spun her around and used his foot to spread her legs apart. She cried out as he slid in to her causing him to place a hand over her mouth. 

   “Quiet darlin’, we don’t need your howl’s attracting more wolves,” he quipped and slammed into her again with a grunt. Her palms burned against the bark of the tree as she arched her back and pressed against his thrusts. He pulled her hood down to expose her long chocolate hair, taking her braid in his fist adding more pain to her pleasure. She moaned into his hand as the pleasure built in her about to make her body spasm again. In moments he pulled out just in time not to fill her and make her journey back uncomfortable. He braced himself against the tree trunk as he caught his breath and she fixed her armour.  When she turned to face him, he pulled her into a sweaty but satisfied kiss. He too fixed himself up as it was her turn to lean against the tree, she examined her torn up hands. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 

   “We can wrap up your hands,” he said, examining the blood beading on them. “Come on,” he guided her to the saddlebags on the horse. She studied him as he rummaged for some clean dressings and readied his bladder of water that hung around the horn. She held her hands out as he carefully cleaned and bandaged her hands. 

His war paint was two horizontal lines below each eye, his profile was chiseled, and his mousy brown hair was always pushed back and out of his face despite being long. Nords always preferred their hair long over the short styles other races donned. She had seen this man ruthlessly kill, viciously fight, and spit obscene insults. He was far from a hero which made sense as he was an ex- Bandit turned thief. He was regarded as the enforcer of the guild and trained himself as such, intimidating targets as he looted on jobs rather than sneaking. Both techniques prevented guards from being called and made the guild earn a tough reputation. But she couldn’t help but study him with a soft look she reserved for the tender moments they had together. He could be as vicious as a hungry wolf to anyone else but softened to the likes of a guard dog around her. She felt safe around him and felt they shared something more than just close friends or helping warm each other's beds. 

      “Thanks,” She gave a small smile.

      “For your hands or the sex?” 

      “Clearly I’m talking about the sex,” she giggled. 

      “Well that was my pleasure,” he kissed her again and put the remainder of the wrappings back once they were secure around her hands. “Come on, still a bit before we get to the inn,” he walked over to the wolf to retrieve his sword as she followed suit. 

      Soon they were back on the road and feeling their energy drop from all the excitement they just had. She had slumped against his back fighting to keep her eyes open when she felt him shift in his seat.

   “Don’t fall asleep. I’ll already have to answer for bringing you back at all let alone injured already,” 

   “It’s not a job done right until you draw blood,” she murmured into his shoulder. 

   “I’ve already scraped you off the road once I don’t want to do it again,” he warned and she sat up a bit to please him. There was seriousness in his tone when he gave that warning that made her feel a bit guilty. She obviously hadn’t meant to get so injured on one of her first jobs, it was that damn curse! It was a couple of years ago, Nox Donnahue had already done a handful of jobs with the guild successfully, and surprisingly hadn’t met Thrynn at this point. She had just cleared out a wealthy home in Markarth and had made her escape just past Rorikstead on her horse when she was attacked by forsworn. They killed her horse, looted everything including her guild armour and beat her until they thought she was dead. She couldn’t be sure that was all they did as her clothes were so torn, they were nothing but rags. If Thrynn and Vex hadn’t been on their way back from doing business in Solitude, she surely would have died. 

    Vex had told her how Thrynn was the one who spotted her and stopped to check her breathing. Vex didn’t recognize her with how badly her face was swollen, and without her armour they didn’t even know she was a fellow thief. Bodies left from forsworn attacks were nothing new, merchants avoided those trips if they could because of them. Thrynn had carried her back to Rorikstead while Vex guided his horse, insisting she was still alive despite her breaths being so shallow it was hard to tell. They left her in the care of the healer and finished their trip back to the guild. Brynjolf had mentioned he was surprised they didn’t cross paths with her and all ride back together. That’s when Thrynn had suspected what happened. He asked for another job that would require a trip through Rorikstead as he wanted to check on her, make sure she wasn’t a member left stranded. 

     She had been up for just over a day when he returned, her face had shrunk two sizes and the bruises had mostly faded thanks to the potions and spells. She was still weak and in pain although Rorikstead seemed welcoming enough to house her until she was better. She thanked Stendarr for the mercy she was shown in that town. One of the women had given her fresh clothes and She was given a bed in the inn although she wasn’t sure how she would pay them. Thrynn sat with her, asking questions getting to know her when she asked how he knew she was in the guild. He was taken aback before she explained who she was and how she had ended up there although her memory got fuzzy after leaving Markarth. Knowing who she was, he felt he needed to protect her and make sure she made it back in one piece so he finished his job and picked her up on his way back when she was well enough to travel again. He had taken care of her expenses and for the next few months following, he shadowed her on her jobs, would line up jobs on the same travel path together or simply check up on her if he got the chance like he had during this Rift job. Although they flirted a lot and he made her feel safe, they didn’t become involved until recently. She figured they were seeing each other for about four months now but neither of them dared to bring up advancing into any relationship.

  She hadn’t noticed they had arrived until the horse stopped and he moved to dismount. 

  “I’ll stable your horse while you get us a room?” she suggested. 

  “What do you want for food and drink?” he asked double checking his saddlebag. 

  “I’m only hungry for sleep,” She yawned as he walked towards the inn’s door. She stayed petting the horse and ensured he would be safe for the night with food and water before entering the inn herself. The sun had already set when she was met by the warm fire in the main hall. She scanned the room for Thrynn when she spotted him sitting on a chair by the bar. A woman she had never seen before was in a green tavern dress with her chest exposed, sitting on the arm of Thrynn’s seat giggling. The woman was a tall, beautiful Nord with blond hair and a charming smile. 

  Nox felt a pit of jealousy bubble in her as she pushed it away, she walked up to the couple feigning a bored expression. Standing to her full 5’6” height, she still figured the nord towered over her. Nox had an athletic build, she had full lips, a small nose, and large hazel eyes that stood out against her olive skin. She noticed a fleck of something on the woman’s bottom lip but it was only after a second she realized the woman had kissed off some of Thrynn’s warpaint. 

   “Did you get those rooms?” She asked blandly. 

   “The one behind me,” he said and she pushed passed him into the room. She was still raw from their session only about an hour ago and he already had a new woman in his arms. She reminded herself they had never declared themselves a couple but she was still hurt. She took one of the books from the shelf in the room and sat at the small table in the room. She began flipping through pages trying to focus for a while when Thrynn walked in and closed the door behind him. He had a plate stacked with food and a tankard of what she assumed to be ale.

   “I figured you could pick off my plate if you aren’t going to get something of your own,” he said, placing it down on the table between them and sitting in the seat to her right. “Are you alright?”   “Yes.” She didn’t take her eyes off the words she wasn’t reading. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his broad chest. 

   “You’re jealous,” He observed. 

   “I quite enjoy feeling like I’m used,” She said dryly.

   “She came over to me,” he began.

   “She has your war paint on her lips,” 

   “I’m in here with you,”

   “You don’t want to be,”

   “Hey! I’m in this town for you. I could be back in the cistern right now,” he reminded her and she sighed knowing he was right. “So she kissed my cheek and gave me attention?”

    “It… hurt,” She mumbled, finally pushing the book away from her. She studied the bandages on her hands. He let out a heavy breath and pulled her chair closer to him so she was facing him with wide eyes. He noticed she had undone her braid that his fingers must have ruined. 

    “Give me a kiss,” his voice was softer. She hesitated before leaning in to meet his lips. When they parted she snaked a hand to his plate and took a piece of cheese to nibble on. He had a satisfied smirk knowing he was smart to have brought extra food in. When they finished eating they retired to bed so they could get an early start in the morning. She couldn’t help but still feel hurt despite being wrapped in his arms all night. 

   Her body was numb from the weight of his arm across her middle when she woke up. Knowing she couldn’t fall back asleep she decided to get breakfast in the same style Thrynn had the night before, piling it all onto one plate and sitting at the table to enjoy some fruit. She gazed over at him with his arm draped over his eyes as she popped a snowberry in her mouth. She took another and aimed the pea sized barry at the snoring nord. As she let it fly from her fingers she hit her desired target watching the berry arch into his mouth, making him cough and sputter. The berry pulled him from sleep abruptly as he sat up and spit it out.

   “Are you trying to kill me?” he exclaimed as she giggled. 

   “A single snowberry can't kill the almighty Thrynn. I got us breakfast come eat,” she had the berries and a sweet roll for herself but got him a roasted pheasant breast and some venison stew. She longed for the fruit her parents used to have shipped up from Cryodil. The strawberries and oranges, all the delicate fruits that wouldn't grow in hearty Skyrim. 

   Thrynn rubbed his eyes before he made his way to the table and took the remaining seat. He blinked a bit and rested his forearm on his knee as he continued to fight against sleep in his eyes by pinching the bridge of his nose. She pushed the cup of water to him, urging him to rehydrate after yesterday. 

    “I figure after breakfast we can leave for Riften. It’s dawn in half an hour,” that fact made him groan a bit. She always woke before him but it was rare she wouldn’t let him sleep in or wake him up so unpleasantly although they only shared beds outside of the guild. “There’s plenty of abandoned carts along the road we can haul you back in if you prefer,” she giggled into the cup she was about to sip from. He barely looked up, just tipped the bottom of her cup so it would splash down her face and in her nose making her gasp and sputter much like how she woke him up. “I deserved that…” She admitted once she caught her breath enough to speak. He just chuckled and moved his focus to the plate.

cont: https://www.wattpad.com/1055007722-sneak-thief-chapter-2-welcome-to-whiterun