#brynjolf smut

[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

[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.

[accio-peach]

guys I am actually writing again. specifically I am writing brynjolf fic

[argisthebulwark]

i wanna get fucked by bryn on mercer’s table. before mercer is dead. i want everyone to be out and about, technically nobody knows but they just kinda realise. yknow? i think that’d be funny. mercer realising what the weird darkened stains on the wood are.

what’s he gonna do? steal a rag from a beggar and crawl into mavens ass?

i wanna fuck bryn on that table.

aah YES like before they even know that he's actively sabotaging the guild or anything. it's just because he's an ass and they think it's funny.

mercer asking delvin why all of his paperwork is shuffled and out of order when he's positive he organized it before heading home. barging into the flagon and demanding to know who spilled a drink on his desk.

"how do you know it's a spill?"

"it's sticky, like one of you drunkards splashed ale on your way through the cistern!"

(nsfw below the cut. minors do not interact.)

Mercer was too lost in his anger to notice the look Brynjolf shot the new recruit from across the Flagon. No one was going to take responsibility. He told himself that it was fine, he expected to less from their run-down group.

"Stay away from my desk."

He swore he'd catch the culprit. He wasn't sure why he cared so much - maybe it was the amusement written clear as day across all their faces when he brought it up. They were mocking him. They thought he was overreacting. Well, he'd just have to show them how badly he could punish someone for messing with him.

Weeks passed and still his desk was disheveled. Mercer made a habit of arriving early to the Cistern to catch them - the stains on his desk had only grown after finding his inkwells spilled and dripping onto the ground. He'd lost itineraries of important shipments. It was not all in his head.

He counted each bed as he passed. Rune, Vipir, Niruin, Cynric. Mercer paused when he saw an empty bunk, scoffing a moment later when he spotted Brynjolf curled around the new recruit.

Mercer did not like her. The way she looked at him without a hint of fear was troubling. She gave him a bad feeling.

Since his outburst in the Flagon he'd felt more eyes on him, people snickering whenever called to his desk. A dull rage pulsed within him every time Rune snickered or Vex made a show of not touching his table. They all thought he was a fool, they'd lost respect for him. He couldn't put his finger on the reason but he knew it had to do with Brynjolf's new pet.

His tables at home weren't nearly as neat as his desk in the Cistern. Rolls of parchment were spread at every angle, books flipped open and quills placed haphazardly. After digging through every file and nearly tearing his hair out Mercer told himself that he'd simply left an important document in his desk. It was fine, he always locked the drawers. No one else could have seen it.

Despite the vein throbbing in his forehead he told himself that it was a good thing. Checking on his desk in the middle of the night was a great idea, none of his thieves would expect him so late. Surely he'd catch whoever was messing with his belongings.

The Cistern was near silent when Mercer slipped down the ladder. Water lapped at the stone floor and the faint chatter of the Flagon floated in easily. How had he never thought of coming in the middle of the night? Even if he didn't catch the culprit they'd all be drunk enough to spill some secrets.

"Bryn,"

One glance toward his desk and Mercer froze. Shame and rage flooded through his veins. He wasn't sure if he wanted to bolt back up the ladder or draw his sword.

Papers fluttered to the damp floor and ink stained the sides of his desk in fat drops. The recruit's hands clasped the edges of Mercer's desk which shook with each thrust Brynjolf sent into her. He saw the grin on Brynjolf's shadowed face, hands keeping her bare hips pinned to the table. He heard her whimpers and Brynjolf's guttural groans, her breathy voice when she begged him for more. Mercer's stomach churned horribly at the sight.

"Good job, lass." Brynjolf growled, carelessly shoving a roll of parchment into a puddle in his pursuit to kiss down her back. "You're doing so good for me."

"Gods, yes." She moaned and Mercer thought he was going to be sick. It was a terrible sight - Brynjolf fucking his new recruit over his desk, her nails scraping the varnish and arms stained with his ink. The recruit moaning and drooling on his itinerary when Brynjolf fucked her.

Every thrust of his hips sent more of Mercer's precious work flying all over the Cistern. Their Guild armor was a careless heap near his overturned chair. It was deplorable.

Mercer returned to his home without a word. He was sure no one had seen him as they were quite preoccupied. He did not sleep well - how exactly would he punish them? He could kick the recruit out. He could claim she stole something. It would be easy enough to drop a few extra septims into her pack and she'd be torn to shreds. Did Brynjolf care about her enough that it would whip him back into shape?

He stormed into the Cistern bright and early, satisfied with his plan for retribution. The state of his desk was worse than he'd ever seen it. Brynjolf didn't even make an effort to hide it. Mercer shivered at the memory of scrubbing something sticky off the table weeks ago, not lingering on what it could have been.

"Brynjolf." He boomed, awaiting the satisfaction of their shocked faces already. "I need a word with you and your recruit."

"She's sleeping." Brynjolf sounded awfully nonchalant when he spread his hands over the dried ink stains. Mercer was ready to unleash his fury, to tell Brynjolf that they were being turned in to the guards for their actions. "I'm sure you understand, Mercer. You got a good look last night."

[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.

[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..

[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

[astridthekhajiit375]

Hey there! Requests Open!

Here, I shall regard the fables that I create about some of our beloved Skyrim characters, mods or otherwise. Might also share some of my experiences. Below is a list of characters I will write for:

-Inigo

-J'zargo

-Kharjo

-Farkas

-Vilkas

-Brynjolf

-Ralof

-Ulfric Stormcloak

If someone you want isn't on the list, feel free to ask about it! I might decide to write for them.

I will write about:

-Angst (as much as someone wants) fluff, domestic fluff, pregnancy, or any SFW topic (I got a prompt list to choose from to combine any of these if wanted!!)

I will NOT write about:

-NSFW topics, in-depth sex scenes or smut, and if anything comes up that isn't here, I'll let you know, but I'm pretty flexible!

Hope to get asks at some point or another!

[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??

[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

[gloomwitchwrites]

Lavender: Part Two

Brynjolf x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), oral sex (female receiving), breeding undertones, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 2.6k

After accepting Brynjolf’s marriage proposal, the two of you receive some long-awaited alone time since binding yourselves together under Mara’s eye.

Part One

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

A strong breeze kicks up, rattling the side of the small cabin. A fire burns in the hearth, warm and strong, filling the space with light. The sun is all but gone. Your belly is full. And for once, you aren’t afraid. You are not stressed. There is no impending doom or subtle tension.

Tightening the wool blanket around your shoulders, you gaze into the fire, reflecting on the last few weeks. When you finally accepted Brynjolf’s proposal, he went to the Temple of Mara, and fetched a priestess like he said he would. The two of you bound yourselves together in matrimony.

Then it was done. Over. And your new life began.

The moment you sealed yourself to Brynjolf, the entire atmosphere changed within the Thieves Guild. They dropped their cold demeanors, greeting you with warm smiles and congratulations. The only member who didn’t seem to change at all was Vex, her icy exterior retaining a firm hold. At first, you believed she didn’t like you, but then you quickly realized that she’s sour with almost everyone.

You were not allowed to leave the cistern unless chaperoned, and while that bothered you at the time, you grew used to the routine. Brynjolf never waived in communicating how your mother and aunt fared in Solitude. He made sure to hand over any letters or pieces of communication, and whenever you longed to leave the cistern, Brynjolf would bring you with him to the market.

But all things end, and when Mercer Frey offered up a small retreat for you and Brynjolf to escape to for a bit, the two of you snatched it up without question. In Thieves Guild headquarters, there is nowhere private, and while you and Brynjolf tried to find a bit of quiet, it was ultimately difficult.

Every time you or Brynjolf tried to initiate anything, someone would appear as if sensing the intimacy.

Now, the two of you are alone. Truly alone.

Not simply as friends or lovers, but as husband and wife.

“Lass.”

Brynjolf’s hushed and husky voice drifts over to you. Turning away from the fire, you find him reclined on the bed. He is entirely bare except for a fur blanket covering his groin. The light from the fire casts a warm glow across his skin. Brynjolf bends one knee and lightly taps the bed beside him.

“Come to bed,” he croons, and your legs move without question. It is instinct to do so.

Approaching the side of the bed, your drop the blanket, revealing a thin shift. The chill air instantly pebbles your nipples and Brynjolf’s gaze drops to your breasts. It is a heated look, one that instantly pulls a slickness from your core.

Slowly, you lift your leg, planting one knee on the bed. Leaning forward, you place both hands on the soft bedding, and then lift your other leg. Brynjolf’s emerald eyes flash, his chest expanding and deflating quickly, nostrils flaring. With deliberate slowness, you slide over to him, keeping your gaze glued to his face. Brynjolf watches you the entire time. There is hunger lingering in the depths of his stare.

When you come to rest against his right side, Brynjolf reaches out, cupping your cheek with one hand. He doesn’t say anything. Simply touches. Caresses. Observers. The middle of his brow creases slightly and then softens. That kissable mouth of his turns upward, and there is so much love there it momentarily zaps your autonomy from you.

You would give Brynjolf anything in this moment.

“Do you remember the first time?” he asks.

“The first time?” you reply hesitantly, not sure you understand.

Brynjolf laughs softly. “You know.”

Your cheeks heat, sudden realization dawning. “Oh. Yes.”

Dropping his hand from your cheek, Brynjolf leans back into the bedding. “I was nervous. Excited.” He chuckles. “Couldn’t stay hard.”

“Or inside me,” you add with a smirk.

Brynjolf laughs, the sound of it sweet. “Aye. What a mess I was.”

“Are you telling me you’re nervous, husband?” you tease, placing one hand on his bare chest. He is warm beneath your palm, and you cannot help yourself. You stroke slowly, savoring his heat.

“Hardly,” he replies, his own hand grasping yours. Brynjolf brings your palm up to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. “I’ll be better.”

“Truly?”

Brynjolf’s amused grin widens as your teasing tone. One moment you’re reclining beside him and the next you’re on your back.

“Bryn!” you exclaim, but he has you pinned.

“If we married when he did,” he murmurs. “We’d have ourselves an army by now.”

You gasp and smack his chest. With how much space you have, the strike is weak, but it’s not meant to hurt.

“Don’t like the truth, lass?” he croons, head dipping slightly as if to kiss you.

“You’re terrible,” you reply, smiling.

Brynjolf grins. “You take that back.”

“Make me.”

The words leave your mouth and you cannot snatch them out of the air. You cannot shove them back down your throat.

Brynjolf’s grin grows wider, and you know in this moment that you’ve lost.

His mouth comes down on yours with a fierceness that steals all breath. It is suffocating. Intense. And so different from all the kisses you’ve ever received before, even from him. His large hands roam over the thin shift until your skin is buzzing, as if bees have made a home there. When he retreats it is agony, a staunch shattering that longs to be repaired.

“We have years to catch up on,” he murmurs against your lips, tongue darting out to tease.

“Then we best get started,” you reply, just as softly.

Brynjolf groans and comes back for more. It is sweet like an apple tart with extra sugar. Brynjolf will rot your teeth at this rate, but you’d hardly care even if he did.

His hands slip under the thin shift, bunching the fabric around your hips. The fur blanket that covers his cock is gone and his nakedness is apparent. It presses on your lower abdomen and you flex your hips up to bring him level with your entrance.

Brynjolf’s fingers dig into your thighs as his cock slides through your sex. “Not yet.”

Brynjolf releases your thighs and places both hands on the bed, pushing up to a seated position. His cock stands at attention, nearly meeting his belly button. Every muscle of his is on display, and you long to taste and lick each one.

Years. It’s been years, and your body still craves him like it did before.

“Off,” he says, and it is a command. His red hair lightly brushes over his shoulders as he shifts slightly on his knees.

Your fingers find the neckline but hesitate. It’s not because you’re scared or frightened of him, but because this makes it all the more real. The two of you are bound together under Mara’s blessing.

Brynjolf’s gaze softens. “Want my help, lass?”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you ease the neckline over one shoulder and then the other. It falls to your waist, revealing your breasts. Brynjolf is right there, reaching to help ease the shift down your legs.

When you are bare to him, Brynjolf groans. His hands return to your thighs and you part them, wanting him closer. Brynjolf briefly straightens, drawing back slightly, the tips of his fingers grazing over your inner thighs.

At first, you think he’s pulling away from you, but he only wants to admire, to gaze on your body for a bit.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Those emerald eyes of his darken. “Wife,” he whispers, as if he’s testing it out.

“Wife,” you repeat back to him.

His chest heaves. “Finally.”

Brynjolf surges forward. One hand presses into the bed by your head while his other grasps your hip. Your mouths connect, and the liquid fire returns, roaring through blood and bone until you’re drowning. All these years you’ve waited and resisted, believing that loving him would only ruin him. How wrong you were. This man is enthralled. It’s clear from every touch and kiss.

Brynjolf breaks away only to return his mouth to your skin. He kisses your jaw and the curve of your neck. He moves down to your collarbone and then between your breasts. Brynjolf descends further over your stomach and stops just above your sex.

You are still spread completely, legs forced apart by his expansive shoulders, entirely open for his view. Brynjolf’s gaze is locked on your sex. He is fixated, and when he finally glances up, his pupils are blown.

“May I taste my wife?” he asks, voice rough with lust. Brynjolf slides back a bit, forcing your legs over each of his broad shoulders. His mouth hovers just above your pussy.

“You may,” you reply, voice soft, almost inaudible.

The corner of Brynjolf’s mouth quirks into a smile. His head dips, breath hot against your slickness. It draws forth a shiver, one that has him groaning against your inner thigh. Brynjolf’s lips hover there, pressing lightly on your soft skin.

“No squirming,” he says before gently biting.

It’s not painful, more of a surprise that has you seeking refuge away from his mouth.

“Oh shove it, Bryn,” you mutter.

He laughs, and then his tongue is on you.

It is not tentative. Not hesitant. It’s not like the first time when the two of you stumbled through the motions. This is completely different. Completely other. Brynjolf is sure of himself, as if he’s known your body all his life, and he knows exactly what you need.

His tongue traces, moving from entrance to clit with deliberate slowness. Your back arches, but Brynjolf’s hold is firm. His large hands firmly grasp your outer thighs, keeping you parted. When his tongue makes another pass, a gasp escapes you. It is strangled. Nearly choked.

Brynjolf repeats the motion, and this time you whimper.

“So sweet,” he purrs. “And all mine.”

His words are liquid sin, dipped in Dibella’s teachings. When Brynjolf puts his mouth on you again, he tastes and tastes and tastes until everything in you clenches. That tension coils up like a serpent under the leaves, waiting to strike. There is no escape. No chase. You are completely open and raw, unable to contain the venomous bite inside you. The serpent shows its fangs, and you are a willing victim.

Brynjolf sucks your clit into his mouth and that cracks your control, shattering it like poorly forged steel. Your fingers slide through his red locks, tugging until he growls. Your hips flex, pushing your cunt against his mouth.

Those large, strong hands of his hold tight, keeping your hips still. But Brynjolf doesn’t guide you away. Instead, he keeps you pressed against his mouth, the flat of his tongue tearing your resolve into shreds.

“Stop. Bryn. I’ll suffocate you,” you gasp, trying in vain to create distance.

“Then I’ll die happy,” he replies casually before diving in for more.

Between your legs, you watch as Brynjolf adjusts his position. He freely offers you a clear view of the tip of his tongue as it circles and teases your clit. You are unable to look away. The sight of him worshiping your body like this sends your body buzzing, and that coiled tension returns, blooming fast.

Your gaze is fixed on that one point, of how his pink tongue plays with you. Brynjolf doesn’t need to use his fingers. By the Nine, if he did, you’d likely explode, shatter like hammer against ice.

You melt like the snows in summer. You do not stifle or attempt to restrain the moans that leave your lips. They are wild. Untamed. And all for him.

Who would hear you but him?

By the time you begin to come down, Brynjolf is already bringing your thighs together, angling them back toward your chest. You don’t care. Don’t event mind. Everything inside of you is light, as if you float amongst the clouds, soaring like a hawk.

“My wife,” he says softly, drawing your gaze back to him. Your lashes flutter, and a contented smile spreads across your face. Brynjolf’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices.

He makes no move to clean himself.

“Husband,” you reply.

With a suddenness that surprises, Brynjolf’s hand grasps the nape of your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, only holds. He tugs, drawing you upward but not entirely into a seated position. Your fingers dig at the bedding beneath you, all the muscles in your body that were once languid are now tight with strain.

In this position, Brynjolf’s cock slides through your slickness in a back-and-forth motion until all you can hear is your own pleasure.

“Brynjolf,” you gasp, reaching for him.

He murmurs your name as the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your only response is a strangled groan, one he answers by rocking his hips back enough to hold himself at your entrance.

On an exhale, Brynjolf begins to ease in. This is not like before. Not at all. You are stuffed. Filled.

“You’re doing so well, lass.” Brynjolf retreats slightly before pushing forward again. “You can take it.” He gives you more with each roll of his hips.

“By the Nine,” you say as he bottoms out.

“Don’t go praising the gods now, lass,” chides Brynjolf. “They don’t deserve your sweet words.”

You’d laugh, maybe even tease back, but Brynjolf is hungry, and he gives you no respite.

There is no subtle softness. No slowness. Brynjolf drives forward, each thrust concentrated strength. The hold on your neck disappears, and you slump back to the bed, but that doesn’t matter. In this position, you are pinned beneath him, unable to do anything but take. But you gladly accept it, each steady stroke a delicious bite.

You never want to leave this place. Never want to leave him.

Brynjolf adjusts your legs, spreading them out and up, pushing them toward your chest. It forces your hips up a bit but it only creates a deeper angle. Leaning forward, he plants one hand above your head and the other near your shoulder.

He grunts above you, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. Reaching up, you slide your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders, keeping him close. Taking the hint, Brynjolf relaxes a bit, draping himself over you as he thrusts.

Like this, you can reach him.

Flexing the muscles in your neck and shoulders, you arch up to kiss him. You only manage to graze his jaw but it’s enough. Brynjolf tips his head downward, and then he’s meeting you, each kiss desperate.

What were once steady thrusts become needy, quick bursts that signal his end. While you cannot move your legs much, you do manage to hook your heels over the backs of his thighs. This changes something within him because Brynjolf nearly crushes you as he groans out his releases.

You cling to him, holding tight as his hips stutter, the last few thrusts of his shallow and weak. Brynjolf’s lips brush against your jaw, then your cheekbone before falling against the curve of your ear.

“Did you want that army?” he asks.

“Do you?” you reply, turning your head enough to gaze upon his face.

The soft smile you receive tells you all you need to know. “Little versions of us running around the cistern? Brandishing knives?” You roll your eyes and Brynjolf chuckles against your throat. “I’ll take whatever you offer me, lass. You know that.”

He still inside you, and so you roll your hips, finding that he’s already becoming hard again.

“Let’s start with one.”

taglist:

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

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

[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.

[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.”

[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.

[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