#reader x farkas

[coffee-at-daybreak]

at your back | farkas x reader

It takes a moment to recognize the sound you just heard - someone knocking on your door. It’s been just you and your thoughts for a whole day now. And you weren’t expecting company.

You turn in bed just enough to voice a “come in”. You’re reluctant in doing so, already dreading having to interact with anyone.

But then you see Farkas entering, and you feel a sweep of relief.

For a fleeting second, you forget about your sorrows when he greets you with a gentle smile, one that softens his icy eyes. He holds a tray with a small bowl of soup and a slice of bread. He teeters in carefully with it, bringing in the scent of warm spice with him.

“Thought I’d bring dinner to you, since you didn’t come up last night,” he says.

Something pangs in your chest. You remain mostly turned away, curled on your side on the bed, and facing the wall. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

He sighs. “I knew you’d say that. Well, best we wait anyway - it’s really hot. You don’t need a tongue burn. I may have given myself one earlier.” He sets the tray down on the nightstand.

Then he approaches to stand next to the bed. “Room for one more on there?” He asks.

You cast him a wary glance, gauging his face to see if he’s using another joke to lighten the mood. But no, he’s serious, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

You move sideways on the bed, even closer to the wall, so Farkas can clamber in. You sense the dip of the mattress and hear the creaking of the wooden frame with his added weight.

Then his arms are gathering you up - one sliding under your abdomen, the other draping over your waist. They meet at your middle, and he’s pulling you in until your back presses to his chest. The familiar warmth of his body surrounds you all over, half muscle, half softness - all comfort.

“I missed you,” he rasps, breath tickling the skin on the back of your neck. He nuzzles his face closer to your shoulder. “I know you needed space. But I don’t like being away from you too long.”

Hot tears build up behind your eyes. Hearing those words, so genuine and sweet, is an almost painful contrast to what you’ve been dealing with since yesterday.

A nightmare of a day had happened - one of those where nothing goes right. You had so many responsibilities as Harbinger now, yet you were unable to succeed at any of them yesterday. You couldn’t face any of your fellow Companions after such an ordeal, afraid you’d see disappointment - the same disappointment you felt in yourself. So you came to the solace of your quarters, where there was nothing to do but deal with your thoughts - restless, agonizing, shameful thoughts - alone.

But he was here now, and though the thoughts linger heavy in your mind, you aren’t alone anymore.

You draw in a deep breath, but your words come out choked anyway. “I’m sorry. For everything. I - I failed you all.”

You feel Farkas shaking his head before you’re even done speaking. He gives you a tight, tight squeeze, until you have to shut up.

“No. You didn’t.”

His hand splays out across your stomach as you take more unstable breaths, helping you ward off the sobs wanting to escape. He spreads his fingers out, pressing warmth into your middle.

“You messed up, sure. It happens.” Even when his voice is barely more than a whisper, it has that little gruffness to it, one you’ve found to be unfailingly soothing. It’s a lot like him in that sense - he appears tough and scary, when he is the exact opposite.

His arms tighten around you again, but more so in an attempt to pull you even closer to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat vaguely, steadily, at your back.

“But you could never fail us, love. You’ve done too much for us. And you’ll keep doing more.”

The tears race down your face now, but for the first time, it feels good to let them. Some of that hot shame you’d been feeling escapes with them, no longer sitting deep in your chest, but taking the form of wet warmth on your cheeks.

Farkas keeps his firm hold, letting you cry in silence for a moment. The repetitive sweeping of his arms and the feather light kisses he leaves on your shoulder do all the talking for him anyway.

Eventually, your ragged breaths subside, and the fresh tears are replaced by weak sniffles. You feel less of the weight within you, focused more on the weight of the body around your own. The warmth of him is seeping past just surface level, ebbing into your system, beginning its slow but definite domination over the dark feelings.

You reach your hand down until it rests over his, still covering your middle. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably be fine, but luckily, you’ll always have me.”

You are suddenly reminded of one of your earliest memories with the Companions. When you returned from that first mission, and you’d been sworn into the inner Circle, and Farkas had been the one to speak for you. You had barely known him then, and he’d barely known you, but still, he swore to stand at your back, that the world may never overtake the two of you. Back then, neither of you could have known how close you would become, but the bond formed in that moment was the unmistakable beginning of it all.

“Even when-” you start to ask.

“Even then,” he cuts in. He follows his words with yet another squeeze of his arms, and this time, it works a strained little laugh out of you, and he smiles. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

You want to tell him you’d never try, but you’re sure he already knows that. If there’s one thing that is consistent amongst the chaos that is your adjustment to the Harbinger life, it’s your relationship with Farkas. Strong, solid, full of warmth and support - a reflection of him.

“Now,” he speaks up, his grip finally loosening a bit. "You should really try and eat something. Don’t make me spoon-feed you.”

This time, you don’t protest.

a/n; this is a rather self-indulgent insert bc ya girl has one awful day and wishes for nothing more than to be comforted by a big sweet man but i thought it turned out nice enough to share. i also wanted to give a huge thank you to all who interact with my silly little fanfics, every like and reblog and comment means the world to me and i appreciate it all 🤍

[argisthebulwark]

Do I Have Your Attention?

summary: calling your partner by their real name instead of a pet name. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Vilkas, Farkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Cicero, Teldryn warnings: joke abt murder in Miraak's lol. masterlist

Vilkas knows you're trying to get under his skin and hates how effective it is. Despite all his grumbling he's grown to enjoy the sweet little names only you're allowed to call him. There's nothing wrong with his name, of course - but it doesn't summon that fuzzy feeling all your terms of endearment do. "Vilkas?" You call again, clearly trying to get his attention. He grits his teeth and pointedly ignores you. Tidying his desk has suddenly become very interesting. "Sweetheart?" "Hm?" He finally grunts, feigning nonchalance despite the color in his cheeks. "Oh, now you can hear me." He ignores how smug you sound, continuing to shuffle through paperwork. "How interesting."

Farkas doesn't like that. "What? No baby? No honey? Did I do something wrong?" He drops the rag, half polished armor entirely forgotten as he turns toward you. "No, I'm not upset with you." You clarify, quelling his nerves. "Why so formal?" Farkas adores the sweet things you say to him - calling him your honey, your dearest, any reminder that he is yours. "Sorry, my love." You crack a smile when he reaches for you, grabbing your hand. "Didn't mean to worry you." "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." He sighs, doing a terrible job at hiding how much he enjoys all of your attention.

Brynjolf knows you're trying to bother him. He's seen that mischievous look in your eye before and weighs his options - what will be more fun? He could play into your little game and pretend to be upset by the lack of affection, or he could turn it around. The way he says your name is aloof, almost cold. He watches your eye twitch and your grin falter. It's terribly hard to stifle a laugh when you clear your throat and struggle to continue the conversation. Oh, he knows he's gotten under your skin. Brynjolf listens to your request for proper recruit assignments and agrees, biding his time before taking it one step further. When your annoyance begins to wane he begins calling you by your last name, thrilled at the color your face turns. "Bryn, what are you doing?" "Not so funny now, is it? Guild Master?"

Miraak swears that he will kill you both if you don't knock it off. He threatens to burn your entire village to the ground if you don't cease whatever prank you've decided to play on him. In front of others, he will stomach your cold detachment - calling him by his name or title in front of those damned Greybeards. He knows a thing or two about manners, after all. But in the privacy of your bedroom, he is your love. He is the one who relishes in all those silly terms of endearment only you are permitted to use. He stews over your laughter, refusing to give in even when your lips press to his skin. "You are not funny." He grumbles, though he does lean closer for more of your touch. "Perhaps this is what was prophesized - you will be the death of me after all."

Erandur worries that he's done something wrong. He thinks over your day, struggling to pinpoint what social blunder he could have made. He knows that he isn't completely up to date on modern social courtesies but you do not physically appear upset. "I'm sorry, my beloved." He offers, praying that you will educate him. "For what?" "For whatever I've done to upset you. Please tell me so that it can be made right." When you explain that it's a prank, a joke intended to gauge his reaction, Erandur smiles sheepishly and tucks away that information for later. He kisses your forehead, grateful that you are not upset with him.

Cicero is not a fan of that. His brows furrow, trying to figure you out. You only use his name when you call him your silly Cicero, your pretty Cicero... never just his name. His head tilts when he notes the pink in your cheeks and the attentive way you're watching him. "Listener." He ventures, eyes narrowing. "Are you pranking your Keeper?" "I am." "Oh!" Cicero's hands clap when he revels in your laugh. "Silly Listener, you are quite funny." "Not as funny as you, my love." He grins at the kiss you press to his cheek, absolutely giddy at your approval.

Teldryn is a bit taken aback - you've called him Tel for years. And now you're dropping his full name out of the blue? You've never been one for overly sweet terms of endearment but he likes the shortened version of his name you use. He removes his helmet and peers over, trying to figure you out. "What did I do to deserve this treatment?" "What treatment?" "The full government name." He's relieved when a laugh bursts out of you, pausing your trek to slap a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Tel. You're too funny." He wants to chastise you, but the little pet name and the way you draw near to him is fairly distracting. "It was just a little prank." "A prank?" He snorts, indulging in a short kiss to your forehead. "You have too much time on your hands."

[lumibuns-blog]

Whatever you call this kind of man>>>

I'm going with scruffy sweetheart on the inside, kills people on the outside, father figure (not by choice tho)

[metize]

Mate (AFAB!Dragonborn x Farkas

Rating: Explicit

Additional Tags: PWP, In Heat/Mating Cycles, Werewolf Mates, Companions Questline, PIV

Summary:

You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.

“Are you… nesting on my bed?”

You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing.

A/N: I didn't find A SINGLE Heat Fic pwp with Farkas. They're werewolves! That's the whole point of being a werewolf: feral sex. Anyways, hope you enjoy it.

Jorrvaskr was asleep. The night had draped its serene embrace over Whiterun, as the weary warriors found solace within their familiar haven. Farkas himself was deep in the realm of dreams, enjoying the peace of his unassuming chamber. Yet, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a sudden and insistent pounding on his bedroom door. Startled from his slumber, Farkas jolted awake, heart racing in surprise with the sound of pounding on his bedroom’s door.

He was ready to assume the worst, a strategy that worked just fine for Farkas over the years; strike first, think later. He grabbed the greatsword at the end of his bed and readied his stance until he heard your voice from behind the door.

“Farkas, are you up?" Your voice was breathy, a hint of urgency in your tone.

He put his guard down, it was just you, the dragonborn. He respected and greatly admired you as his shield-sister, appreciating your company whenever you came back from your adventures. He trusted you with his life. He stored his sword away before opening the door.

Sure enough he was met to the sight of you as he opened the door. He was always happy to see you, almost forgetting for a second it was the middle of the night and you woke him up because you probably needed something. You weren’t wearing your full armor, instead you sported a more casual outfit that you used to sleep in, the sight was welcome to Farkas. Seeing you in a more vulnerable position was different, he was much more used seeing you armored from head to toe. It brought back memories from the first time you arrived in Jorrvaskr, full of questions, wanderlust and with a very unusual story to tell. Vulnerable in your nightclothes, yes, maybe that was why he was feeling a sudden overprotective urge.

“Shield-sister, it’s late. Did something happen?” He asked, his eyes darting around the hallway to check for any danger. That was when it hit him. The scent.

Your scent.

Farkas and the other Companions had a very strong sense of smell, it was normal for Farkas to recognize someone solely by their scent, but this wasn’t just your usual scent, this was stronger. Sweeter. And way more distracting.

“Close the door, I don't want to wake the others,” you said, making your way past him and sitting on his bed. You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.

“Are you… nesting on my bed?”

You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing. You blushed hard, caught off guard. This was your first heat, Aela had warned you about heats and how they worked after you had been turned. You had simply completely forgotten. You couldn’t be blamed, you had a lot to do as Dragonborn and your first heat was supposed to happen later, you were sure you had more time to prepare. You were always planning on talking to Farkas about it.

“I… guess I am,” you admit defeated “Farkas, I’m… going into heat.”

“Then you really,” his breath hitched, a low growl in his voice “really, shouldn’t be in here.” His hand gripped the door handle to ground himself, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

“I’m here for a reason, Farkas,” you said solemnly, you got up and walked towards him. He shot you a glare.

“Don’t come any closer,” his voice was raspy and his commanding tone made you stop in your tracks. “I don’t know how much longer I can control myself with you in this state.” His breath was labored and his gaze was intense.

“Farkas I don’t want you to control yourself,” you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, regaining courage to walk closer and reach for his hand. “I want you to help me…”

As soon as your fingers touched his hand it sent a spark of electricity through you’ve been hit by a Chain Lightning spell. You didn’t even get to hold his hand, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your body flush against his. He leaned down burying his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief at his proximity, at the sheer intimacy. You grabbed onto him like a lifeline, your instincts slowly taking over your mind, the wolf inside you screaming for more.

“Please… Farkas…” You muttered under your breath.

Farkas pulled you up by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He dropped you on the bed, oddly enough the little organizing you managed to do added so much to your comfort level. Farkas was on top of you, his mouth was hungry for yours and you were all too happy to oblige, you kissed him back, running your fingers through his long hair.

“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he admitted through gritted teeth, his hands undoing your blouse and groping your breasts.

“You don’t have to be…” You reassured him, his mouth was on your neck now marking you with his teeth as he pinched your nipples. You moaned in pleasure but with a hint of impatience, you squirmed under him pushing your hips up to feel some friction. “Please, please, I need you inside.”

He grunted before gripping your waist and forcing your hips down.

“It’s your first heat. I don’t wish to hurt you.” “I can take it, Farkas, please, my mate, I need you, need your cock,” you begged, your instincts completely overwhelming you with need. Farkas froze at your words before eagerly undressing the both of you in a rush.

You whined each time his hands left your skin, you felt feverish and aching with need. You were already soaked when Farkas pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. You didn’t trust your voice to beg him again, so you tried to give him a pleading look hoping to get him to have mercy on you and give you what you were craving.

A broken moan left your mouth as he entered you with his length, Farkas seemed to be losing control, as you hoped, his patience and kindness giving place to his feral instincts to take and breed. He was fully in, save for his knot, when he started moving his hips fast and deep.

Your whines and moans were loud, you couldn’t help it, his tip was hitting deep into you and your body programmed itself to feel nothing but pleasure at this time. Your mind was completely gone, solely focusing on Farkas’ cock slamming into you with force and speed.

“Mine, mine, mine…” Farkas kept repeating and his words only brought you closer to climax, giving yourself completely to your mate to be owned and used to his content was embarrassingly arousing. “My mate… You look so beautiful, so needy for me, for my knot, you want me to stuff you full, hm?” You nodded rapidly, trying to let him know how eager you were without depending on your words, since you weren’t sure you could even string a sentence together. But that wasn’t enough for him, he pulled at your hair and growled into your ear. “Say it, say what you want.”

You whined, the sting in your scalp only fueling your pleasure, you looked up at him with an imploring look. “Farkas please, I want y-you to breed me please…”

He grunted, his pace steady as he looked into your eyes. “Do you? Then why did you wait so long to seek me?” He punctuated his phrases with deeper thrusts, making you cry out as he hit your deepest and sweetest spot. “Why parade around Jorrvaskr smelling this sweet and ripe for the taking? Were you hoping just any Companion would take you out in the hallway?” His voice was aggressive, possessive and it turned you on so much. “Skjor? My brother?”

You shook your head. “N-Never! Just you, I’m yours Farkas… Please!”

“Cum for me.” He growled and picked up the pace. You do. You saw stars when he reached deep inside you, the warmth of his body against yours and his teeth biting down your neck. Farkas wasn’t too far behind himself, his pace getting erratic and you could feel yourself yearn for his knot. “I’ll cum deep inside of you, my mate. Is that what you want?”

“Please… I need it, please, please…” You begged pulling him into another kiss.

His mouth devoured yours as he pounded you into the mattress, his own beast ordering him to breed you, to take you, to claim you. He thrust one last time into you, his knot plopping into you, locking you together as he buried his seed deep inside your pussy. He moaned against your ear, tugging your hair as you felt his breath on your skin.

You held each other for a second, catching your breath and letting the afterglow warm your heart. Farkas placed a kiss on your forehead and stroked your hair.

“I’ll take care of you, however many times you may need it, my mate,” he said, voice low and earnest. You hummed contently and nodded.

“Can we go once more?” You said and he chuckled.

“However many times you need it.” He repeated.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Farkas x f!reader •°• Under the influence <SMUT>

Title: under the influence

Rating: explicit, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: skyrim

Relationship: farkas x f!reader

Characters: farkas, you

Tags/ triggers: intoxication, drinking, smut, p on v, low key werewolf vibes , more implied than stated, oral (female receiving), awkward dialogue, pwp,

Wordcount: 3900

a/n: Farkas is best boii

A soft glow blanketed the furniture wherever the fire could reach, laughter reverberating against the wooden walls as you held the tankard between your fingers. There was a certain blurriness at the edge of your vision, a certain childlike humour bubbling under the surface. You would wager, at this point, there might be a certain uncoordinated sway to your hips if you were to retreat to your room while Farkas showed no signs of stopping or faltering as he stood on the other side of the bar in his room, arms practically flailing as he tried to explain the size of his most recent kill, almost comical in his movements.

You felt the warmth of the situation, be it due to the drink or the company was up for debate. His usual set of armour stood lonely in the corner in favour of something a little more breathable in the social setting, just as you had done under the protection of the walls of Jorrvaskr.

His laughter died down a bit as he came to sit on the stool next to yours and you turned his way. Ever solid and muscular even without a shred of armour it was still apparent, more so even. The exact thought making your cheeks fire up slightly and eyes divert for a moment as you reprimanded yourself. He was your friend, your shield brother. It was inappropriate when he didn't feel something similar.

"It wasn't really that big, was it?" you teased, playfulness seeping through as you tried washing back the previous thoughts. There was no doubt that the man was telling the truth but not wanting the silence to linger around you without a similar tale of your own and staring at the wall of your own attraction was not something you'd want to get submerged in at the moment.

"I would never lie to you, (Y/n)." He stated, taking another swig of his drink. "You should join me sometime.." His finger tapped against the tankard as he continued. "We could… Maybe then you'll see for yourself."

"Yeah.. " you responded, worrying your bottom lip at the thought, not quite bothered by the danger it may pose but the inescapable truth that comes from it. Alone with him, several days and nights, watching him in action, drowning in his company. A slight heat rose at the apples of your cheeks. "Maybe I will."

You swallowed. "I should get to bed." You stated abruptly and stood, causing him to follow the action. You wobbled slightly as the blood suddenly rushed through the unused appendages, blood rushing to your brain when his hand on your shoulder steadied you which in truth hadn't been necessary and perhaps had the opposite effect when you looked up at the man. Stormy grey looking down at you, your own fantasies and feelings towards the man clouding your already questionable judgement, a mistake in the midst of the chaos within your chest, your eyes lingering on his lips a few moments too long.

And then it happened, like a prayer being answered or a dam breaking, lips pressed together and your body immediately melting into his. Perhaps a dream, an hallucination, didn't really matter in the moment. Seconds passed in an otherworldly state as your mind crawled back to you and before you could even fully react to the fact that the man you had been pining for had you in his arms, he broke the kiss.

"I'm so sorry. " he stated quickly, body retracting from yours and hands lifting in a show of surrender. I shouldn't have… You're… " He shook his head from side to side in an effort to clear the emotions swirling and find the words to make it right. "I don't know what came over me, you were.."

Your brows furrowed as he fell over the words. He was apologizing, the man was honest to god apologizing when the one prayer you believed would never get answered had taken its first steps.

"Farkas. "You stated softly, placing a hand on his arm to drag him back to reality. "It's okay." You felt your cheeks heat up, contemplating your next words. "I uh.. I don't mind it." You bit into your lower lip as you watched his expression change into a range of states in the span of 3 seconds.

"You don't… mind?" he lifted an eyebrow in question, the words feeling foreign as they fell from his lips but you could only respond with the nod of your head. You forced a small smile to your lips in spite of the anxiety boiling just beneath your skin.

"Ok.. Alright." he said, body relaxing a bit.

"Unless.. You regret it, then.." You swallowed thickly, feeling your cheeks flush impossibly warm. You looked down, brows furrowing as you collected yourself. "Then we can just forget it happened."

You heard a chuckle, odd sound in the moment as your eyes draw back to him. He shook his head slightly. "Regret it? Not in a million moons."

You felt your cheeks still burning, for an entirely different reason as a smile erupted on your lips. He stepped closer to you. His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes looking at your expression for any signs of discomfort before pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Your hands pressed against his chest, lips parting when you pressed towards him again, an action full of desire and need that felt all too apparent but still rewarded when your arms slipped around his neck and the air that surrounded you both changed in a split second. Lips parting to move against each, turning your body ever so slightly so he could push you against his bar as your fingers ran through his hair.

He pulled away slightly to look down at you, slightly out of breath and sporting tinted cheeks. You bit into your lower lip under the scrutiny.

"Still want to retreat to bed?"

You frowned at the words before your mind drifted to earlier, chuckling you shook your head.

His eyes flicked to his own bed for a moments before a smirk threatened at the corner of his lips.

"I do have a bed for you." He offered, a certain glint in his eyes as his hands rested on your hips. "But if I had my way, I doubt you'd get much sleep. "

A heat spread throughout your body at the implication of the words, momentarily at a loss for words until that same glint spread to your eyes. You pushed closer to him, confidence strengthened by the flow of events. Looking up at him through your lashes as you spoke.

"And what would I be doing then, Farkas?" You tried your best to keep your voice even, keep the heat from reaching your cheeks, most of all, keep an innocent expression plastered on your face.

He swallowed as his mind ran away with him for a bit, images rapid firing within his mind that could be labelled in some instances as improper but definitely as explicit.

"I.. Uhm.." He struggled with the words for a bit between his dry throat, your hands on his chest and trying to remain chivalrous while those eyes were staring up at him..

You giggled at his response, light sound that settled his nerves a bit.

"Well, I do have a few ideas." You stated, pressing your lips to his. Your hands slipped around his neck once more, lips working against his.

Farkas held your hips, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he fought within himself, fought with himself. This was everything he had wanted, craved.. Was it not? You all to himself, he wanted to mark you, make you his. He just struggled to process the flow of events that could end with you pressed to his chest, lips parted and open to his ministrations. You wanted this, just as much as he, he lamented. You were the one to deepen the kiss, you were more than a willing participant. Why would he hesitate.

His hands gripped tightly as he lifted you onto the bar surface, breaking the kiss to look at you as he settled his body between your parted legs. You bit down on your lip as he looked at you, almost predatory look as his hands lingered on your thighs. He dipped his head to your pulse point, fragile skin under his lips when he pressed a chaste kiss to your skin, breathing in your scent and feeling your warmth beneath his lips.

It felt intoxicating. His teeth grazed against the skin between wet open mouthed kisses and soft murmurs. You closed your eyes, teeth now digging into your lip and fingers slipping through his hair. Simultaneously too much and not enough when it came to the movements, the need for him so full in your veins after months of wanting and wishing. Your legs wrapped around his hips and pulling him into you, the act eliciting what sounded like a growl from the man that settled at your lower abdomen, teeth digging into your skin ever so slightly as he took a moment to breath you in and steel himself.

He wanted so to be gentle, wanted to be slow and considerate but there was another part of him that needed you and needed you now, that wanted nothing more than to bend you over this very bar and push into you, hear you cry out his name for everyone to hear , to dig his teeth into you, mark you for everyone to see.

"Farkas…"your voice was soft, beckoning his attention away from the struggle he was having within. Your eyes stilled the tempest. The soft call of his name falling from your lips, soft blush on your cheeks as you looked at him, worrying your lower lip.

He wasn't quite prepared when the next action was you lifting your tunic over your head, new skin exposed to his darkened eyes. He licked his lips, hands at your side, feeling the skin under his fingertips and then you reached to untie the small material that still hid your breasts from him.

His throat felt impossibly dry, swallowing when he cupped you in his hands, rolling the small buds between his fingers, watching how you bit into your lip and pushed your chest into his hands. He could feel his cock straining against the rough material of his pants but let it be momentarily in favour of wrapping his lips over your nipple, teeth grazing ever so often and the other hand kneading and pulling against the neglected breast.

You closed your eyes at the sensation of his wet tongue lapping against your nipple, arching your back slightly while soft sounds slipped past your lips. It only took a few moments before he needed more, more of you, more sounds, more of you wrapped around him, more of the taste of you beneath his tongue.

He let you fall from his lips, a certain mischievous glint in his eye when he came to stand full height and his hand softly ran over your clothed core. The sensation had you sucking in a breath, legs falling open a little more which he took as an invitation. He looked into your eyes when his hand slipped into your pants, finger experimentally running through your folds.

His head dipped down, warm breath washing over your ear as he spoke. "You're wet." he commented, voice rough and playful as his finger dipped into you ever so slightly before rubbing circles over your clit. "This all for me, (Y/n)?"

You couldn't find it in yourself to answer, audible sound slipping from your lips and hips jerking as it searched for more friction.

Suddenly, his hand stopped moving, a frustrated whimper leaving your lips when he retracted his hand fully from your pants. He pressed his lips to yours, a chaste thing that annoyed you to an extent, a slow build as his hands worked to pull the rest of your clothing from your body. You helped as much as you could, lifting your hips but your brain was in a state of short circuiting, torn between giving attention to the kiss and getting free from the pants in hopes of the act that would follow.

He broke the kiss when your pants finally fell to the floor, eyes taking it in. You bare on top of his bar, wet and open to his view. It was truly something to behold.

He licked his lips as his eyes fell between your legs, lowering his body until his face was level with your cunt, warm breath wafting over you while his hands firmly gripped your thighs.

He looked up at you when he licked a stripe through your folds, a small taste of you on his tongue. A taste that would surely linger and follow him into his dreams. You looked down at him, truly obscene image before you that had your mind reeling, muscles constricting and your hand weaving into his hair as you sucked in a breathe. Your pleasure audible as you gave into it.

His grip on your thighs was firm, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he tried to keep you still. You were so close, you could already taste it. Pressure building in your thighs and lower abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter with every movement. Sweet ecstasy at the tip of your tongue only perpetrated by his mouth on you and then suddenly everything stopped.

Something akin to anger bubbled in the back of your throat when he stood, no explanation or apology for the absolute frustration that littered your cells. However, he did take hold of your thighs and pulled you roughly towards him, pulling you into his hold and carrying you in the direction of his bed. Only a few paces but still you felt the need build when you felt the friction on your bare cunt, feeling the slight press of his bulge briefly in the exchange.

Once again he felt frozen for a moment as he regarded you, now sharing his bed. You were a sight, you were ethereal. Intoxicating perfection. None of these things felt right to confess, however. It was funny in a way, he literally had his tongue in you moments ago and he couldn't just tell you that you made him feel like the happiest man alive in this very moment. He never was very good with words that didn't make him feel like he was making a fool of himself, especially when it came to you. Sometimes he'd linger on that fact, just basking in your laugh and smile but this, this was different.

A smirk played on his lips when he crawled back down your body, ample space for his hands to slip beneath your backside and settle between your thighs once more. He used the leverage he had on you to pull you towards him, eyes looking up at you when his tongue ran over your slit and beyond. A few experimental movements before he was sucking on you again, one hand leaving your thigh to push a digit into your accepting cunt. You easily took the digit, even the second, even greedily accepting the third despite the stretch. You moaned for him, haze lingering in front of your eyes as your body responded, trying its best to jerk into him as he curled his fingers.

"I'm close.." you cried at the familiar feeling coiling within you, hands gripping the bedding beneath you to ground you, whether it had the desired effect was up for debate. Your heels dug into his back, body accepting the onslaught of sensation greedily and readily until it could no more.

You fell from his lips when he took the moment to regard you, body starting to show the signs of perspiration, hips bucking against his hand, rapid breathing as your chest rose and fell, eyes clenched shut. On the precipice. Whatever happens from this moment forward, he would not forget this moment, your bliss. The absolute ecstasy of knowing he was the one to supply that very bliss.

"Give it to me." he beckoned, voice low as he pumped his fingers into you. "(Y/n), let me feel it."

You came a few moments later, mind lingering on the words like a lifeline, his encouragement fuelling your desires when your body clenched around his fingers, wetness leaking from you that he took upon himself to lick clean. The act elongating the feeling as his tongue took from you to the point of too much, body squirming in the onslaught.

You breathed heavy when he finally found his way back up your body, fingers gently pushing a few stray hairs from your face as he looked down at your expression. You opened your eyes, feeling heat erupt from your cheeks that soon turned to frustration when you noticed the man somehow was still fully clothed when you had already came, bare as the day you were born.

Your fingers moved to the hem of his tunic, sloppy motions that did little for accuracy and more for making your intentions known. He took over the motion, seeming to take pity on you and pulling the tunic from his body and throwing it carelessly over his shoulder.

Your fingers pressed against his warm chest, running across the expanse of muscle that defined him until your hands wandered lower, a certain glint playing in your eye when you set a new goal, lower and lower. You worried your lip as you cupped his erection, not missing the hiss and clench of jaw at the contact, eyes momentarily closing as he tried to ground himself.

"Farkas.." Your voice sounded sweet like honey against his ear, the way his name fell from your lips as your fingers ran over the length of him. "I need you inside me." Need rolled in ripples at the idea of being stretched over his cock, of him fucking his shape into you, of the lasting indentation of his hands digging into your body and maybe the indentation of teeth to remember the occasion by.

His eyes snapped open when the words fell from your lips like a siren call, quickly ridding himself of the only piece of clothing that kept him from being buried in your cunt the way he wanted to for the past few months since you walked up the stairs of Jorrvaskr.

He groaned when he slid his cock through your folds, soaking in your wetness, your previous ecstasy apparent even in the low light. Your legs opened a bit more as an invitation, soft sigh escaping your lips at the soft contact. He hovered over you, holding up his weight by the hand planted beside your head while the other was busy lining himself up to your cunt.

"Ready?" he asked, voice rough as he leisurely rubbed his cock through your folds, the epitome of patience it would seem if not for the clench of his jaw and the way he gripped the bedding from beside your head in an effort to keep himself from losing control to the feeling.

You nodded a response, fingers pressing to his chest and thighs spreading a little more for him. He didn't wait for a second invitation, pressing his cock into you inch by inch, the soft drag of him earning a gasp while he groaned at the wetness and tightness of you as he stretched to his goal.

The muscle strained when he was pressed to the hilt, fisting the bedding as he waited for your body to adjust to his size, unwilling to push you through the pressure. A small distraction when he pressed a heated kiss to your lips, almost too soft in the way they worked against yours while his cock stretched you.

When you felt the pressure lighten, you broke the kiss, moan lingering in the back of your throat at the promise.

"Please.. Farkas" you almost whimpered, fingers digging into his biceps with a need rushing through you, thighs lifting ever so slightly to press against his hips.

Farkas looked down at you, breathless at your expression and the sway of his name as it left your lips. It was too good to be true and yet, he was definitely buried into you. This wasn't something he could make up so vividly, he definitely couldn't dream the taste of you so sweet and the look and feel of you so bare and open to him.

His hips gave a shallow, experimental jerk that elicited a small sound, warmth blanketing him and he pulled away only to thrust into that warmth again, moan slipping past your lips at the fullness.

He quickly set a pace that tethered on a little too rough, holding onto your hips as he pushed forth in rapid succession, revelling in the way you sounded off against the walls of his room. You didn't seem to mind the pace, that idea punctuated by the way you would cry out to him, begging him not to stop, legs wrapping around him and your fingertips digging into his back.

A fleeting wave of guilt at the sound surely slipping past the walls of his room, quickly silenced by the bliss of his cock pressing into you with each and every thrust. You cried out his name, a mantra between his growls and groans, and the wet sound of him fucking into you. Your hands clawed at his back, hips meeting his in a perfect symphony of moans and groans, a moment you wished could last much longer.

The pleasure crept, bled into your vision and skin, eyes clenched shut. His head slipped down to your neck, teeth threatening the skin below it. He wanted the claim, the evidence on your skin but pulled back, digging his forehead in the space beside your head and clenched his jaw. So close, he could keep that control, he cannot take what was not given, what wasn't even understood.

Your body clenched around him, legs wrapping around his thrusting hips, try as you might, coherent words had forsaken you as you moaned and mumbled in his grip, nails digging into his flesh as you held onto him. The fire within bloomed and his thrusts softened a tad, still hammering but conscious of the shocks that wrecked your body as it shook against his.

The tightness of you was hard to contend with, the way it hugged him and pressed. You felt euphoric and he wasn't one to deny himself the simple pleasure of drowning in it. His fingers pressed into your soft flesh when he released, hot ropes of his seed pressed into you as he grunted your name.

He didn't pull away immediately, silence filtered into the room as you both breathed through the emotion and comedown. Your hand ran through his hair and down his back softly as he held onto you. Moments that felt like eternity that in reality was mere seconds. He lifted from you, pulling out of you and then promptly falling next to you.

Months of staring at his front and backside, of tales amongst tankards and the danger of not returning. All the times you sank away from expressing your feelings and not seeing his. All the turns leading to this moment, the anxiety and relief, the fear and anticipation. It felt like floating and you just hoped he wouldn't yank you back down.

After moments of breathing in, he reached out to you, pulling your body into his. He was warm against your back, a slow simmer in your abdomen when his arm stretched around you. He placed a kiss to your shoulder and breathed you in.

"I've changed my mind. " Farkas spoke softly and smiled against your skin. "I'm not sorry about the kiss."

[not-today-flah]

How you meet

Vilkas

You walked into Jorrvaskr with hope of joining the Companions. You had already met Aela and Farkas while fighting a giant outside Whiterun. Aela greeted you and told you Kodlaks whereabouts. You were a little nervous about meeting him but you brushed aside your feelings and stepped into the room. You where met by two faces, one curious and the other agitated. You suspected that the older of the two was Kodlak but you had to be sure. “Hi…are you Kodlak?” You ask shyly the younger man rolled his eyes, you shot back a disapproving look. “Of course he’s Kodlak.” The younger scoffs. “And who are you?” You ask, a tinge of sass in your voice. “Vilkas.” He states coolly. You glare at him and he glares back. “What brings a stranger to Jorrvaskr?” Kodlak butts in. “My names Y/N and I’m here to join the companions.“

Ralof

When you met Ralof on the way to Helgen, it was only brief, but you liked him. He had great spirit, and tried to make dark times a little lighter by adding some humour to the situation. There was no time exchanging names properly, there can’t be when there’s a DRAGON attacking. You went with Ralof you wouldn’t go with those damn Imperials. When you both made it out of the keep you followed Ralof to Riverwood where he introduced you to Gerdur his sister. She was very welcoming, she gave you some supplies and access to her home. You were walking to Gerdurs house with Ralof, “You know you should join the fight to free Skyrim, we need people like you.“ Ralof mentioned as you walked, “You really think I should, thanks.” You smile and he beamed back. “I’ll consider it.”

Farkas

You walk on the cobblestone path, making your way to Whitrun. Gurdur sent you to tell the Jarl that Riverwood was in danger of a dragon attack. You walk by a couple buildings, paying no mind to your surroundings until you heard a battle cry coming from one of the farmers fields. Three people were fighting a giant, you race over and draw your bow, hitting it straight in the eye. The giant falls over with a thud and the three people look over at you, ones a woman with long red hair, green war paint, and a bow. She comes up to you, “You handle yourself well, you’d make for a decent shield-sister.” She says. “What’s a shield-sister?” You ask curiously. You feel a gaze on your back and take a quick glance over your shoulder, you catch a very handsome man staring. He looks down and scratches the back of his neck with a light blush dusting his cheeks, you give him a small smile which makes him blush more. After Aela explains what a shield sister is and tells you about the companions, you say your goodbyes and hastily walk to the city. As you walk you smile at you feet at the man named Farkas.

Argis the Bulwark

You step out of the Understone Keep in Markarth as the new Thane of the Reach and as the new Thane you have a knew housecarl. You walk up the stone stairs until you reach your secluded home at the top of a hill. You walk through the doors and instantly feel the comforts of a home. Walking farther into the house you hear a man clear his throat making you jump a little. You had never had a man as a housecarl before, this was going to be interesting. You step into the living room area and are greeted by very muscular man who has a tattoo on the side of his face, his left eye was completely white and had a scar across it. Blind, battle wound probably. He gave a small smile and bowed his head, “Pleasure to meet you my Thane.” He says. “The pleasure is all mine,” I grinned, “and you can just call me (Y/N).” I say. His smile grows, “Okay, (Y/N). My name’s Argis.”

Brynjolf

You needed to buy some supplies from the market in Riften. You knew that Riften wasn't the best place to buy things but it was the closest city. When you got to the market square someone approached you from behind making you jump, you turn around and look up. "Haven't done an honest days work for all that coin you're carrying, eh lass." The red haired man in front of you said. "I'm sorry what?" You blink and dumbly look at your pockets. He chuckles a bit which snaps you out of your confused state. Your gaze turns suspicious when you look at him again. “My wealth is none of your business.” He gave another small laugh at that. He looks pretty ordinary, he’s a Nord with long red hair and a beard. He’s actually quite handsome, and he’s dressed proper so you assume he is of high status in Riften. “Actually it is my business, and, you see, I’m searching for someone to do a certain job.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Snowberries & Wolf Teeth

Vilkas x Farkas x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, kissing, F/M/M, brief mentions of Vilkas & Farkas’ beast forms, oral sex (female & male receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), multiple creampie, breeding, multiple positions, possessive behavior, alcohol, brief aftercare

Word Count: 3.4k

At the New Life Festival during Evening Star, the Wolf Twins make their claim on you.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Whiterun is bathed in luminous light.

Masser and Secunda are large in the night sky. Along with the two moons is an aurora of blue and green which only adds to the lights of the festival. Makeshift lamps line the streets of Whiterun. From them hang wreaths made of pine and snowberries. It’s true winter now. There is an intense chill in the air, and many within Whiterun predict that the first snowfall of the year will arrive any day.

Tonight, the citizens of Whiterun celebrate the New Light Festival. Typically, one of the major cities across Skyrim host the festival, especially where the Empire has a firm hold. Solitude is the most popular place to hold it, and while you’ve only been to the city a few times in your life, you’ve never gone during the New Light Festival.

This year, Whiterun is celebrating on its own, and the Companions are graciously allowing the festivities to be held in their mead hall, Jorrvaskr. You’ve been inside before, mostly to make an excuse to talk to Farkas or Vilkas. They both shower you with affection, and neither seems upset that the other chases after you. Sometimes, they actively pursue you together.

Will you eventually have to choose? Or are they willing to share? Is that even an acceptable outcome for either of them?

You move with the growing crowd toward Jorrvaskr. The large double doors are wide open, and from within the mead hall comes music and the rich scent of roasting meat. Many people linger around the Gildergreen or on the steps outside Jorrvaskr. Everyone is dressed in festive attire and groups of children chase each other, weaving through the crowd, giggling as they go.

As you enter Jorrvaskr, you’re immediately hit with a wall of warmth. Below, the firepit is blazing. Over it is roasting venison, chicken, and duck. Several members of the Companions stand around it, keeping an eye on the roasting meat. The doors to the courtyard are also open and the crowd spills out toward the Skyforge.

You walk along the interior wall of the mead hall, heading for the large barrels that contain mead. When you take your first sip, your body immediately warms from the bite of the alcohol. After grabbing a drink, you head for the sweets, selecting a tart to snack on while you wait for some of the meat to come off the fire.

The tart is coated with dusting sugar and syrup. It sticks to your fingers, and you’re constantly sucking on them to try and consume every sugary morsal.

From the back doors that lead out into the courtyard, you notice couples dancing. You smile, watching them move together in unison, chewing slowly on the tart as you watch them.

“Are you wanting to dance?”

You jump at the voice in your ear. Turning sharply, you laugh aloud as you realize who it is.

“You startled me, Vilkas.”

“My apologies,” he replies, retreating slightly.

While he wears his signature wolf armor, it’s all clean and polished to an immaculate shine. Over his right shoulder hangs a cloak of black. His black hair is slicked back and styled nicely. Vilkas is dressed for the occasion. He’s always been handsome to you, but this only highlights how attractive he is.

“Would you still like a dance?” he asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Could I have several?” you tease, delicately licking some of the sugary power off your thumb.

“As many as you wish,” he agrees, reaching out to snag your wrist. Vilkas brings your hand to his mouth, and he licks up a stray drop of syrup.

You finish the tart and mead quickly, handing off the empty mug to be cleaned. Then you slide your hand in Vilkas’, the two of you heading for the dancers. While a warrior, Vilkas does not step on your feet or mess up. He knows all the traditional dances of Skyrim, leading you through them so naturally it’s startling.

By the end of the third dance, you’re clutching your chest, a little winded but happy. His face is slightly flushed but he’s grinning widely, and you desperately wish to kiss him.

“A drink?” asks Vilkas, offering his hand.

“Please.” You slide your hand into his, and Vilkas escorts you to the doors of the mead hall.

With drinks in hand, you and Vilkas head for a quiet corner away from everyone else. You lean against the wall and Vilkas stands with his back to the room, creating a private cocoon. It’s intimate, and the closeness brings heat to your cheeks that quickly radiates outward to your limbs.

“I’ve been looking for the two of you.”

Farkas appears from behind Vilkas. He stands to Vilkas’ left, adding an extension to the cocoon. He is dressed nearly identical to Vilkas, except his hair which is loose and wild around his head. Farkas grins and you instantly melt.

Maybe it’s the mead, but you have a distinct feeling that cannot be the case. They always make every part of you tingle, usually in the most secret places, and this stepping around what you really want is starting to eat away at you. You want them, and you might as well go for it.

“It’s a little loud in here,” you reply. “Is there somewhere else we could go?” You purposefully lean into Vilkas while placing your hand on Farkas’ chest.

They both perk up. At first, they’re slightly confused, but they both realize exactly what you mean rather quickly. Vilkas’ grin is knowing and sultry, but Farkas blushes hard as he suddenly understands what you’re implying.

“This way,” nods Vilkas in the direction of the nearest set of stairs. They lead downward toward Jorrvaskr’s living quarters.

Glancing over his shoulder, Vilkas observes the room before placing his hand on your upper arm to steer you toward the stairs. Farkas follows too, creating a buffer so no one notices that you’re pressed in between them.

As Vilkas approaches the door, he places a hand against the wood, pushing it open enough for you to slip inside first. Farkas follows behind, and then Vilkas steps in behind his brother. When the door is in place, it completely shuts out the noise from the party.

It’s incredibly quiet down here. So much so that it takes a moment for you to realize that the three of you are not entirely alone. From the doorway in front of you leading into a sleeping area, you distinctly hear low moans of pleasure and the slap of skin against skin.

You step back and bump into Vilkas. His hand is on your waist, sliding over your lower back to eagerly grip your hip.

“Is that what you’re wanting? With us?” he whispers against your ear.

Yes. You’ve wanted it for weeks now.

“Is that okay?” you respond, wanting to make sure that they both agree to this.

Vilkas glances at his brother and Farkas nods in agreement. “We accept this.”

“Oh,” is all you say, as the couple just across the hall grow louder in volume.

Are you surprised by this? Not really, and yet you are. Did you fear rejection or even disinterest? Yes, but even that seems false. What reason have either of them given to make you suspect that they didn’t want you?

Vilkas’ hand on your waist is an anchor. His fingers dig into your hip as he pushes forward, guiding you away and down the hall. Farkas stands close enough that his arm brushes against yours, but he does not put his hands on you. It isn’t until the three of you turn down a short hall and enter a small bedroom that Farkas reaches out to touch.

Their hands are everywhere the moment the door to the little bedroom is shut. Vilkas is grabbing at your hips and waist, pulling you toward him while Farkas lightly tugs on your hair, arching your neck, exposing your throat for his mouth to place kisses on. Farkas begins at the hollow of your throat and works upward until he finds your lips.

The kiss is deep. Blistering. A demand.

When he breaks away, you’re breathless, wanting more of him. But Vilkas fills that void, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling you in to discover your taste. While Vilkas learns your mouth, Farkas’s hands roam over your back and sides, eventually settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezes through the fabric, and then gives it a light slap that causes your hips to jerk forward and into Vilkas.

Vilkas breaks away and laughs softly, one hand reaching up to unclasp the cloak hanging over his shoulder. He gently tosses it onto a nearby stool. Farkas follows suit, the two of them slowly undoing hooks and clasps to loosen their armor.

“Which part should we remove from you first?” asks Vilkas in a sultry purr. His gaze roams over your body, and his heated gaze leaves you feeling exposed.

“Everything should go,” answers Farkas as he reaches up to play with the adornments of threaded dried snowberries in your hair. “But these should stay. I like them.”

Vilkas nods. “I agree.” His chest plate falls away and he sets it down near the door.

The two of them are taking their time, watching you watch them. It’s a drawn-out dance. An anticipation.

When Farkas’ hands fall on your shoulders, you nearly jump in surprise. But he is entirely gentle when those fingers slip under the fabric to push it over and down your shoulders. Your dress surrenders to him, stopping briefly at your hips before completely falling to the floor at your feet. You are just as bare as they are.

The moment your nakedness is revealed, Vilkas’ nostrils flare like he’s inhaling your scent. His hands, which are at his sides, clench and unclench. All the while, Farkas’ hands are on your body, touching and caressing in soft strokes that chip away at your autonomy. They make you compliant and weak. Leaning back against him, you admire Vilkas’ muscled form.

He stalks forward, and every muscle ripples as he walks. When he’s close enough you reach out to touch him at the same moment he touches you. There is a hand around your throat, but you’re not sure which one it is.

Vilkas’ head tilts downward, his nose brushing your cheek as his lips meet yours. The sound he makes in his throat is low and feral. Hungry. Everything is tense, and the hands that touch you only tighten as if you’ll try to dart away like a frightened doe.

But you won’t run. Not from them.

Vilkas breaks the kiss and cups the sides your face in both of his hands. Those pale eyes of his are piercing, serrated and sharp like a blade. “Do you want this? Like we want this?” His gaze darts over your face, seeking confirmation.

You nod. “Yes. Please. I want—need, the both of you.”

Farkas’ hand slides over your stomach and between your legs. You gasp when his fingers run through your slickness. Using his index and middle finger, he parts your sex, and the moment he does, the two of them close their eyes, inhaling deeply.

There is something deeply primal about what they’ve just done. When they open their eyes there are small swirls of yellow there that weren’t there before. Vilkas’ lips part slightly, and you notice a sharpness to his canines.

“On the bed,” he murmurs. “Legs open.”

Farkas relinquishes his hold on you but Vilkas is right there, walking with you, sliding his hands up your legs once you fall back onto the bed and open them wide. His hovers between them only a moment before his head dips and his tongue slides over your sex.

It is a shock of sensation, one that ripples up to the crown of your head and to the tips of your toes. Vilkas feasts, alternating between licking, sucking, and kissing, seeking out what will make you come undone.

The bed dips near your head. Farkas is there, his hand sliding under your head to tangle in your hair. He is careful of the adornments, guiding you up onto your elbows. You know what he wants, and you obediently open your mouth, presenting your mouth to him.

He groans, and rubs the head of his cock on your tongue before you close around him. Vilkas swirls his tongue around your clit at the same moment you swirl your tongue around the head of Farkas’ cock. Your pussy clenches, relaxes, and then Vilkas slides a finger inside of you to the knuckle.

Vilkas pumps in time with the movement of his tongue while your head bobs up and down Farkas’ cock. Farkas’ hold on the back of your head is strong but not domineering. He isn’t controlling this. He’s allowing you to take charge.

Vilkas sucks your clit into his mouth and you moan around Farkas’ cock, the muscles in your thighs tightening, wanting to close around Vilkas’ head. He sucks again and Farkas’ cock pops from your mouth. Your hand goes out to grasp the base but it’s more to settle you than him. Vilkas has found that rhythm, and he is working you quickly toward an end.

He sucks again. Swirls his tongue. Then you’re sinking into yourself as the orgasm bubbles up and consumes you. The room you’re in grows a bit distant, and then it all comes hurtling forward as Vilkas continues to tease your clit with his tongue.

Your back aches off the bed, and someone’s hand is around your throat, guiding you to a seated position as Vilkas pushes up from between your legs, one hand still moving casually between them.

“Do you want me here?” he asks slowly, pumping his finger in and out of your pussy. “Or would you like me here?” Removing his fingers, he presses the sticky tips to your lips, dragging them across your flesh, leaving a glossy trail behind.

Your lips part and Vilkas takes that as an answer. With their hands on you, you don’t need to move. They guide you into position. Vilkas reclines in the bed, back against the headboard while you go onto your hands and knees between his legs.

Farkas settles on the bed behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your back before going to your hips, easing them up slightly for a better angle. You wrap your hand around the base of Vilkas’ cock at the same moment Farkas presses down a bit, arching your back, forcing your legs to slide open.

You pump Vilkas a few times before leaning in to kiss the tip. A pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit, and you eagerly lick it up with the tip of your tongue. Another blooms in its place, and you swirl your tongue around the flared head before licking the entire length of from base to tip.

Behind you, Farkas lines himself up, the head of his cock catching on your entrance, easing slowly inch by inch. He’s gentle, rolling his hips in light, shallow thrusts that allow your body to acclimate to him. A few more strokes and Farkas slides home to the hilt.

You’re full. Stretched. Filthy and feral.

You take the head of Vilkas’ cock into your mouth, holding him there while the salvia collects. Then, you swallow him down, your lips touching your hand as Farkas retreats before thrusting forward.

Hollowing your cheeks, you slide back up, and then repeat the process, bringing in your hand to pump him in time with your upward passes. Farkas moves one hand to your waist while the other stays on your hip, his pelvis slapping against your ass with each thrust.

Farkas thrusts. Grinds his hips forward. Hold there a moment. “Shall we make her ours?” he asks. You cannot see his face but you can see Vilkas. The corner of his mouth twitching until it pulls into a full smile.

“Haven’t we?” he replies, one eyebrow arching.

“She needs our marks.” You feel Farkas’s hand slide upward to clutch the back of your neck. He pulls you off Vilkas’ cock, bringing you flush against his chest. His other hand slides forward to cradle your stomach. “And our whelp, too.”

Vilkas’ grows burning hot. The swirling yellow intensifies. “And what does she say to this?” His head tilts to the side slightly, appraising you.

You’re still pressed against Farkas, his cock buried deep within you. “I want the both of you. In all ways.”

Farkas’ pleased groan against your throat goes straight to your pussy. You clench around him and his fingers reflexively dig into your skin.

“Give her to me, Farkas.”

The loss of Farkas’ cock is immediate. He draws away just as Vilkas sits up entirely and pulls you into his lap, turning you around to lay back against him. Vilkas’ hands slide forward to the backs of your thighs and then hook under your knees. He draws them to your chest and Farkas is already moving, returning to your body easily. Farkas places one hand against the wall above Vilkas while the other presses into your hip. You’re trapped between them, and the sensation is lovely.

You’re entirely at their mercy, and it feels good. It feels right.

Farkas uses the leverage of the wall to set a pounding rhythm that shakes the bed. You rest your head against Vilkas’ shoulder and surrender to them.

But Vilkas is not idle.

He adjusts his grip on one of your knees enough that he can reach between you and Farkas’ bodies to rub your clit. You’re already sensitive from when his tongue was on you, and a few well-placed strokes have you clenching around Farkas.

Farkas groans, hips slamming forward as he finishes. His chest heaves but he doesn’t immediately pull out. Instead, the hand on your hip disappears to grab the lower-half of your face. He draws you to him enough that he can lean down and kiss you.

“It’s my brother’s turn,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Farkas draws back, and then Vilkas is lifting you into his lap, lining himself up to sink inside. Your groan loudly, toes curling as he settles to the hilt. There is nothing left for you to do but hold on as he guides you up and down his cock.

“Touch yourself.”

Sighing, you slide your hand between your spread legs to work yourself. Each thrust and every stroke of your hand sends a little tremor through your legs. Vilkas makes a sound deep in his throat as he nuzzles your neck. He continues to rock his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts until your breath comes in short gasps of pleasure. Your eyes begin to close, eyelids fluttering with every tingle in your clit.

“You’re ours,” murmurs Vilkas against your flesh. “Ours.” On that final word, he growls, and holds you in place as he thrusts up into you.

His grunts and your groans fill the room. It isn’t until you come down from an orgasm that you realize that Vilkas is done, merely waiting for you to join them in reality. Every bit of you is sore and the dried bead-like snowberries in your hair clack together as Vilkas helps you out of his lap.

Farkas is right there with a damp cloth, sliding it between your legs to wipe away the stickiness. His movements are slow, and once he’s done, Vilkas is pulling you into his arms, snuggling down into the furs. Farkas slides in on your other side, their bodies intertwining with yours, creating a nest of limbs.

Their bodies are warm like a fire in a hearth. There is an arm around your waist, on your hip, cupping a breast. They settle into rest, but do not sleep. You are the one who drifts, and it is they that coax you back when their need for you grows too great.

If morning comes, you are not aware. And if night follows, you are unaware of that. You are aware of their tongues and teeth. You are aware of how they pass you between them, keeping you full and perfectly pliant to their every demand.

“We’re never letting you go, sweet one,” murmurs Vilkas before he sucks a nipple into his mouth.

Farkas’ hand slides to the front of your throat, pulling you back until you’re looking at him. “Never.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wrathofcats @ninman82

[hircinesanters]

I am such a cliche bc I was like “omg what if the TLD got really badly injured in a fight and Farkas got so upset he turned into a werewolf and killed all the enemies and ate them🥺🥺”

“And then he gingerly lifted up TLD’s body and carried them out of the dungeon/bandit camp/cave and was whimpering sadly as they struggled to drink a health potion🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺”

[miraakulous-c6]

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

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

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

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

It is pretty obvious to everyone but him and the Dragonborn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mischasbongwater]

farkas x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You falter. “Wh- seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

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

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

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

“Right.” You cannot stop looking at him.

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

“Huh? What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I answer it for you?”

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

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

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

You look at him, confused. “Wh-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[wickeddragonworld]

Posted something 🙈🫣

[nightingaletes]

This one's for @argisthebulwark for that post about Farkas being good as a masseuse. No minors allowed, 18+, warnings are as follows:

Content: Back massage leading to Good Times (oral), GNC reader, no pronouns used, reader / second person pov. Established relationship, 1427 words.

You groaned, unable to contain yourself as Farkas’ hands dug into your upper back. He wrenched out every sigh and breathy moan in your body; tingles skating down from your head down to the base of your spine.

“You’re tighter than a locked chest.” He mumbled, pressing and rolling the base of his palm into the tissue that was giving you the most of your problems. You could only whimper in response, burying your face into your arms and the bedding underneath you.

It hurt but it hurt so good.

Farkas’ weight pressed into you as your body tried to move around again, keeping you pinned in place. As per your request, of course, as it only added to the entire experience.

His thick thighs, thicker behind, and hefty weight would make you purr deep within your chest, had you the capability to do so. Aided by the hands that were ever so skilled burying themselves in your back and molding you into a boneless blob; you could swear you’d reached Sovngarde.

You could hear Farkas give a restrained breath of his own, fingers digging that much more into your neck now, unintentionally keeping you in place. Your breath hitched as he adjusted his seating position, feeling a familiar friend pressing up against your ass and thigh.

You’d never admit that your following moan was louder on purpose, nor was the wiggle of your hips, but he knew you too well for that. His low responding growl and hip thrust genuinely pulled out a gasp from your chest; hands gripping the sides of your neck in warning.

“Thought you said you were too tired.” Farkas said gruffly.

You couldn’t hide your smile, chuckling quietly. “What if I said it was an excuse to get your hands on me?”

“Could have just asked.”

“Hasn’t it been more enjoyable this way though?” You ask softly, pushing up on your forearms to press into his hands as they settle around your throat, pressing just the way you liked it. “I’m certainly enjoying myself.”

He chuckled. “I bet. Thrashing around as you have been. Feeling better?”

You loved that about him. Regardless of the aching member pressing into your behind, his first thoughts were of you— always of you.

“Could use a press down to pop my spine,” you admit reluctantly, missing his hands around your neck before they even leave to press along your back.

“Here?” He asked, thumbing the tense spot gently.

“Yeah. You mind?”

“I’m all ready here.” He replied simply, pushing you down back to your lying position.

You couldn’t contain your moans then, and you couldn’t stop yourself now as he popped your back. Relief was near painful to the degree in which it scattered throughout your body, leaving you lax on the bed.

“Good?” Farkas asked as he leaned closer to your face. You didn’t even have to look to see his brow was furrowed, wondering if he’d hurt you.

You merely raised a boneless arm and patted his cheek reassuringly, tension completely removed from your body. He was amazing with those blessed hands of his. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Taking your hand in his, he pressed a kiss to your palm, trailing his lips to the inside of your wrist, reassuring himself as he always did in your quiet moments together. He admitted once that he liked it because he could feel your pulse the strongest there— when your neck was otherwise preoccupied by armor when out and about.

Seeing as you were half naked now, though, it was no surprise that he shifted you both around to keep his thumb against your wrist pulse while tucking his face into your neck; breathing deeply. You loved seeing this side of him.

He was certainly quiet when he was out of battle. Most people saw it as him being ‘stupid’ or ‘slow’, but you’ve known better. He was incredibly observant of his surroundings, something you appreciated, even before you knew of his blood.

He didn’t sugar coat anything, he never felt the need to. Blunt and brutal honesty was his way, in and out of battle. Same as the way he’d asked to court you.

“I like you.” He’d said, staring you down in the hall. “You like me?”

“In what way?” You’d asked curiously.

It had given him pause, as if he hadn’t anticipated needing to provide specifics.

“Like a man does with someone they wanna be with for the rest of his life.” He settled on, nodding firmly. “But I wanna court you first. If you’re interested.”

You wouldn’t lie, you had been interested from the moment he’d protected you in Dustman’s Cairn. He hadn’t hesitated for a moment, despite the potential danger you brought as someone new to the blood. To the knowledge that he and his family were werewolves.

And the way he reassured you that he wouldn’t harm you…

You shifted in his arms, pushing him to lay on his back, settling yourself on his hips and stomach. His hands immediately slid down to hold your waist as you leaned down to kiss him.

He hummed appreciatively, never one to shy away from affection. Often he was the one to initiate it, even in the Great Hall where everyone could see.

It was only fair you repaid the favour for his efforts with your own appreciation.

He groaned against your lips as your own skilled hands groped and massaged his body all the way down to his pants— the only article of clothing either of you wore for the moment. Clothes were normally removed altogether when you were both alone, but you guessed that as he figured you weren’t available, it was a way to keep himself in check.

Yet another sweet thing about him. A shame you were about to ruin it for him.

You lightly bit and tugged on his bottom lip as your hand palmed his hard on, leaving him hissing and bucking up— not paused in the least by your comparably lighter frame. It bounced you lightly, and you slapped your hand on the side of him to keep from falling over.

His hands gripped your hips tighter as you pulled from his lips, letting out a harsh breath of air.

“Torturing me.” He grumbled. Even though you both knew he would absolutely take over if it was too much.

“Shh… be good.” You murmured, sliding your fingers inside his pants to play with his happy trail teasingly. “It’s my turn to make you feel heavenly.”

“All ready do.” Farkas sighed out, hips and stomach flexing at your touch. “You always do.”

You smiled at that and, after releasing him from his confines, you reward him for such a sweet thing by giving him exactly what he wanted.

His jaw went slack as your mouth tightened around him; hands gripping your hair like a lifeline as you bobbed it up and down with lewd noises.

He wasn’t usually one to be loud during sex. He’d typically grunt in your ear or growl low in his chest, letting you feel him rather than hear him. He wanted to keep himself to you, always.

But now? With your mouth edging him as you were? It was almost as if he’d forgotten himself. Begging, whimpering, pleading to come, to just let go, to coat you in his scent all over again. You’d never heard a higher pitch in octave from his voice, broken as it was.

Taking him as far as you could and swallowing thickly, you massaged him near endlessly with your throat and tongue, encouraging him to unload in you.

He took the offer with gusto, unable to keep his hips from thrusting into your face— not that you were complaining with each one that threatened to cut off your oxygen, or every time his patch of hair rubbed against your nose.

He groaned, holding you in place as he started to taper off, panting heavily and grunting with each swallow or suckle you continued to do. Neither of you wanted it to end, despite Farkas having nothing left to give. For the moment.

You reluctantly let him pull you off and crawl back into his arms, wiping your mouth clean. He settled a gentle kiss to your brow before he flopped back onto the bed with you held safely against his chest.

“Good?” You threw his question back at him, smiling at his breathless laugh that followed.

He patted your cheek with an equally boneless arm, reassuring you that it was more than good.

[argisthebulwark]

Pretty Please?

summary: Asking them to let you tie a bow around their bicep💕 gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Farkas, Vilkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Mercer warnings: some swearing, unserious threats (Mercer) masterlist

"Oh hell yeah." Farkas isn't ashamed to admit that he flexes just a little when you wrap the cute ribbon around his bicep. He loves the excited gleam in your eye and the shameless way your hands linger on his muscles even when the task is complete. "Now what?" He laughs, enjoying the satisfied smile on your face. "You keep it there." "For how long?" "Until it falls off, I guess." You shrug, allowing his arms to wrap around you. Farkas can't help himself from drawing closer to you, there's something magnetic about being in your presence. Any silly little joke is worth seeing you smile. "What if it breaks?" "How would it break?" Oh, you've played right into his game. Farkas flexes his triceps, feeling the flimsy ribbon strain and snap around his muscles. He adores the pout you force to cover up the clear amusement when you pluck the pink fabric from his arm. "You just wanted to show off." "C'mon, tie another one. I promise to leave it all day." Of course he's true to his word. Farkas double checks your knot on the second bow, strangely invested in this one staying as long as possible. He's thrilled to talk to the new recruits about his lovely partner who'd placed it there, fingers brushing the soft fabric sentimentally each time he thinks of you.

Vilkas grumbles something under his breath, eyes never straying from his book. Behind the locks of dark hair you spot his expression, noting the lack of real annoyance. Fighting back a grin you play along with his obligatory protests. "It's just a cute little bow." "What purpose does it serve?" "I can ask someone else." You sigh theatrically, turning on your heel. Right on queue Vilkas huffs, a strong hand closing around your wrist and tugging you closer. "Just put it on." He growls just as you'd expected. He thinks he's so scary, but Vilkas sits eerily still and allows you to tie a pretty pink ribbon around his bicep. Despite his protests it remains there all day. One sharp glare shuts down the giggling from a group of whelps resting in the main hall, though the older Companions are harder to quiet. Farkas nearly combusts when Vilkas breezes past him without saying a word, his gleeful expression matched only by yours. After a few boring meetings you scurry down to the marketplace in search of your partner, thrilled at the sight of him pawing through bits of armor while merchants and civilians stare pointedly at your ribbon. It had started as a funny suggestion but seeing him now makes your heart melt. Fully aware that you're killing his tough persona, you skip closer until Vilkas' large hand instinctively reaches for you. He continues haggling with the merchant, seemingly unaware of the pink ribbon flapping in the gentle afternoon breeze. "You doin' this for all the lads?" Brynjolf smirks, holding his arm out to you. "Why?" You hum, so carefully tying a perfect bow over his muscled arm. He isn't sure why you've chosen to add a pink ribbon to his armor but for you he'd do anything. "Would that make you jealous?" "Oh, desperately." He deadpans, enveloping you in his arms. Brynjolf relaxes when you brush through his hair, grateful for the distraction from the endless stacks of paperwork towering on his desk. "Just you, Bryn." You assure him, adjusting the bow until it's perfect. "Thank the gods for that - but did ya have to choose such a bright color, love?" "Some of the recruits have been eyeing you a bit too much for my liking." You admit, sinking deeper into his touch. "Had to stake my claim." "I live and breathe for you, love." From a man who's spent decades lying and stealing, those are the truest words he's ever spoken. Brynjolf loves the excited way you fuss at his bow, ensuring it will stay in place. "What if I get called on a job? This frilly pink'll surely get me caught." "Good thing you're the best there is." "Aye, love. Got that right."

"Absolutely not." Miraak lies, resolve already cracking. He can never say to no to you for long. "Why not?" "Why should I allow this?" "I think you'll look cute." He groans at your words, fully aware that he can not resist that sweet tone of your voice. Dropping whatever tome he'd been reading for far too long he allows you to crawl into his lap. It's painfully difficult to not just give in to you. Miraak knows that his intimidating persona is all but shattered in your presence but that does not stop him from grasping at its last remaining shreds when he can. "I have slain thousands. I could end you with a word. I am not cute." "Fine." You huff, still clutching the frilly piece of ribbon. "You're pretty, is that better?" "It is not." He grumbles, putting up no fight when your fingers dance up his arm. "Would this please you?" "Greatly." His heart swells at that smile, the one you've only shown him. To the rest of Tamriel you are a being of myth, the Last Dragonborn, the only one who holds the world's fate in the palm of your hands. You could save or condemn continents with a word. Yet here you sit, face cupped in Miraak's gloved hands and pouting over a cute pink ribbon. He sighs, unable to maintain the act any longer. "As you wish, my Dragon."

"Try it and I'll gut you." Mercer grunts, content to ignore your request - until he sees the disappointment shimmering in your eyes. That excited smile fades and your hands fall to your sides and oh, the guilt kicks his ass. He turns behind the desk, disgusted by how badly be wants to please you. Wordlessly, he raises his left arm. He glares down at the list of recently recovered oddities without absorbing any information when you happily bounce closer, touch featherlight as you tie the scrap of fabric around his arm. "You markin' me for some sort of hit?" He snarks, attempting to distance himself from the sheer pleasure of you leaning so close to him. "There's easier ways to kill you, honey." Your voice is light, unaffected by his refusal. "I'm goin' away on a job for a while, I just figured you'd think of me when you saw this." Mercer grunts noncommittally once more, swallowing the words threatening to escape - you think he requires a silly bow to think of you? Every moment you're away from the Cistern he's worrying over your safety, counting the hours the job should take until his chest is tight. He doesn't mention it again, though after your departure he catches a few other thieves snickering behind their hands. He strides through the Flagon without looking at them, summoning the most cutting voice he can before speaking. "Say another word and you won't live to see sunrise."

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Skyrim - Tail Wagging

Requested: Yes [Would you consider doing a Farkas and Vilkas(separate) as werewolves that are just huge puppies for you when turned? Wagging tails and snuggles and maybe.. even using that tongue for something?]

Warnings: Werewolf oral sex, slight breeding kink in Farkas’ but reader is kept GN

Farkas

Farkas is definitely the more puppy-like of the two, but only when it comes to you. He’s always on you when he’s shifted, warm as he curls up around you, keeping you close. His tail wagging so fast that you can barely see it, just a blur. And his ears!!! They’re so sensitive, even the slightest touch or rub making him whimper, cock hardening against you, smearing precum all over your naked body. Which is just fine by him, makes you smell of him and keeps the others away.

And oh that tongue. He’s a messy eater, licking everything with that big tongue of his, just so eager to be tasting you, his drool soaking you more than your own slick, drenching your thighs and belly even. He wants to make you feel good but he just gets so lost, like he’s starved or something. He’ll never get enough of it, of your taste. But he’s such a pitiful boy too, he wants you so bad, especially when you’re in such a perfect position, on all fours for him. His cock is so hard, knot already half hard, precum dripping the aching skin, ending at the furry sheath. He’s desperate to breed you full, make your belly bulge from how much cum he’ll give you.

Vilkas

Vilkas is distinctly less puppy-like than Farkas but that doesn’t mean that there’s absolutely none of that same behavior in him. His tail is the dead give away to his other normal behavior, wagging almost as fast as Farkas’ when you rub and kiss his belly, one of your hands on his inner thigh. He thinks it’s a little funny how you try to pretend you don’t notice the head of his cock poking out of its sheath, especially when he bucks his hips excitedly at a particularly low pet, growling deep in his throat at your pretty whimper.

And hmmm, that tongue of his. He’s the exact opposite of Farkas in this regard as well. Slow and methodical, perfectly precise as he licks you up. Like he’s savoring you, like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to do this. He’s more interested in drawing out ever noise he can from your mouth, music to his ears, really getting him going in a way nothing else can as he humps the bed so hard that you can feel it shaking.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Farkas •°• Blooded △SMUT△

Title: Blooded

Ship: Farkas x f!reader, fellow companion 

Characters: Farkas, Reader

Rating: Mature, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: Skyrim

Wordcount: 

Tags/ triggers: blood mention, and forgotton, oral(female receiving), some would say werewolf undertones, on the bar, overestimulation but like barely 

The wind carried the lifeless leaves from place to place, the colour stretched in the rising sun, echoing the secrets of the night. The world seemed peaceful in the sanctity of morning, of the stillness in the moments before the world woke.  

Red, however, caked and glistened on skin, the dirt sticking to his body in places he hadn't even bothered to survey, all coming together in a painting of rust and skin. The adrenaline still echoed accompanied by his laboured breathing with the scent of the kill not too far off as he walked up the steps to Jorrvaskr.  

He got the odd glance from a passer-by or two, but no one would dare comment when looking at the scowl on his face, a snarling emotion on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't the first time he had marched through Whiterun in this state, adrenaline sticking to his skin and clawing to be released, his work as a companion a good veil to hide behind at the moment, although he rarely did the walk of shame in only a tattered pair of trousers that left little of his physique hidden from view.  

Jorrvaskr seemed mostly empty, lone body basked in the light of the fire as you flipped through a page of the book in your lap, unbeknownst to the man watching the fire dance over your face. He felt the warmth bubbling beneath his skin at the familiarity, that clawing emotion as he watched heartbeat after heartbeat until you sighed audibly, neck craning and by chance catching his gaze.  

A smile flashed across your face at the sight of his return even in the state that he was in, a feeling simmering under the surface at that very state, and you stood, making the quick journey to where he stood planted to the floor, book forgotten as you wrapped your arms around his hulking form.  

His head craned at the display, face pressed into your hair and inhaling the comforting scent that lingered. Your body felt soft and warm pressed to him, despite the crimson bleeding onto your clothes from his body.  

You pulled away ever so slightly to look up at his face, gold still swirling in his irises, and you felt the rush within your veins as your fingers pressed against his heated chest, pressing your body to your toes to reach his lips and kissed him.  

He tasted of something tangy, something bitter between the notes of pine and dirt. He tasted of promise, of familiarity, of home. You sighed against his lips, body angled towards him, his hands firmly on your hips.  

Your body retracted, fingers slipping across his arms and resting around his wrist before pulling away and then pulling him behind you. He allowed you to lead him away, sweet scent lingering in your sway, the perfect motion of your hips as you walked down the familiar hallway towards his room within Jorrvaskr.  

The sticky adrenaline sat on his skin, slight haze still lingering at the edge of his vision, but he watched you, angel in the mist, clear as day in the center of his vision until you reached his room and swiftly closed the door. 

He found the image of you grounding, the scratching at the pit of his stomach just under the surface as his eyes travelled across the lines of your face, travelling down the length of you, fingers twitching in need of you, of something more primal, and he balled his hand into fists, the picture of patience as your fingers pressed against his marred chest and reached for his lips.  

The kiss wasn't meant to be soft, wasn't meant for the niceties or display, it was meant to get a message across, body pressed to his, a sloppy wet thing that had you sighing into his own, body malleable and wanton under his firm grip.  

He caged your body against the bar, breaking contact for a moment to regard you, fingers wrapping around the tunic that hung over your body with little care and ripped a slit down your chest with a powerful tug.  

A gasp slipped past at the sudden action, feeling it feed the need growing between your legs and quickly pulling the tatters from your shoulders and letting it pool around your feet.  

His hands pressed into your skin, the rough texture running across your stomach as he got reacquainted with your body, eyes following the movement before curling around your hips and pulling you into him. He breathed in deeply, pressing his nose into your hair. Perfection within his grasp, such a perfect little creature, so pliant and alluring.  

It took some debating within himself to retract from your body and sink down to his knees, eyes trained in front of him when he was eye level to your clothed core, slight smirk at the scent of you so heady and needy. His fingers ran up your legs and pressed into the skin just above the pants, so soft beneath his touch. He dragged the material down along with your underwear, eyes shifting to your own. He held the contact, gratified in the tension and the light dusting on your cheek as he unwrapped you until the pieces of clothing joined the other on the floor.  

Home, he mused again as he breathed in your arousal, teeth barred as his fingers pressed into your bare skin, pulling you towards his wanton lips, tongue aching for a taste as it pressed to your clit, quickly finding its way down your slit. The feeling that washed over him at the contact was not one he could accurately give name to, but it was one that strengthened with each time he found himself in this position and one that strengthened when you cried out to him, hand buried into his hair, nails scratching his scalp. It was the very same when his teeth would sink into you and your body would arch into him.  

You tried keeping your thoughts to yourself, keep some form of decency in regards to the others in Jorrvaskr but with him between your legs it was hard to think straight when the pleasure would wash over you time after time and all you could do was take it, especially with how your sounds would encourage his actions.  

He took hold of your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder as he devoured you, a desperate action as you held onto the bar for support. It felt all encompassing, the way his tongue worked you over, fingers pressing into your skin so hard it might leave a reminder. The coil in your lower abdomen tightened despite yourself, ready to lay it all on him in a moments notice and that you did, limbs shaking as your body tensed, moaning out into the air as he drank you in, drop after drop echoing down his throat and once again he thanked the gods for the day you walked up those steps and stepped into his life.  

Your grip on him slacked once he let your leg down from his shoulder, careful to keep you standing once he rose, content expression on his features while your high glistened in the bristles of his beard.  

"So good for me." He murmured as he took your face into his grasp and pressed a kiss to your lips, a silent moment as you sighed into his warmth.  

His hands were impatient as they slipped across your skin, over your ass, over your ribs, cupping over your breast before curling into the material, flimsy little thing that he could tear with a mere thought, but he refrained, almost delicate in how he loosened it from your body before haphazardly throwing it across the room.  

"You will be the most delicious thing I have tonight." He breathed, hands reach for your hips and promptly flipping you around so your back was to him. He was quick to press against you, warm chest against your back, kiss pressed to the side of your neck, something firm against your backside as he ground his hips into yours with increased will and desperation.  

"Farkas… Please…" Your voice so sickeningly sweet against his heated skin, your want written on the walls even when he could taste it on the surface of your skin. A growl emitted deep from within his chest that you felt as it travelled to your core.  

Your hands pressed to the bar, legs shifting slightly to take in a comfortable stance, body bending slightly as you presented yourself to him in a way that wouldn't leave much room for teasing.   

You were a dream, a vision that called to him, haunted him, and here you were, warmth beneath his fingertips. He never wanted to wake from this. His fingers ran up the length of your spine and back again, feeling the soft skin beneath his touch until his hand curled around your hip, shifting your position slightly as he reaches for his cock with the other, groaning as he pressed to your warmth with his pants shifted barely out of the way.  

Your fingers wrapped around the edge of the bar when you felt his cock probe your entrance, eyes shifting closed as your chest pressed to the wooden surface, waiting for him to breach.  

He ran his cock through your slick folds a few times before he pressed to your cunt, feeding the head and feeling your body give way to the intrusion. Soft sound slipping past your soft lips as your body adjusted to him, feeling more and more of him slip into you as time passed. He stilled once he was pressed to the hilt, hand smoothing over your back comfortingly as you adjusted.  

"That's it." He grunted, wanting nothing more to fuck his shape into you but pressed the words through clenched teeth, focussing on your breathing and not the twitch of your body under him until you moved first. "Taking my cock so well."  

You held onto the words as they slipped from his lips, his voice feeding into your lower abdomen and the pulse you felt there. A few moments passed until you moved your hips, signalling that he could move. His hands wrapped around your hips, eyes glued to where you were connected when he retracted some and then harshly slipped back in.  

The feeling washed over you as he moved, sound falling from your lips at the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly. His hand slipped under your body, hand wrapping around your breast, and just felt the fat in his palm as he thrusted into you.  

Your hips slammed against the wooden surface each time he slipped back into you, sure to leave some bruising in the next few days as a reminder of the ecstasy you felt in this very moment, of his grunts as he filled you up to your skull. You moaned, your hand wrapping over his as it held onto your breast, his name on the tip of your tongue as you clenched your eyes shut, feeling your high coil in your lower abdomen.  

"Close already?" His voice roughly echoed against your skin, shifting his hand to curl into yours.  

"Farkas… Please… I…" You whimpered, body feeling so hot and lingering right on the edge.  

"I'll take care of you." He untangled his hand from yours, reaching to the front of your body and pressed to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. A few moments before your cry of his name echoed in the room, body shaking beneath him and walls clenching around his cock.  

He didn't let up the motions as you cried, only stopping when you had physically pushed his hand away from you as your body shook.  

"That's a good girl." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck in a moment of tranquillity before his hips snapped back into you, chasing his own release within the warmth of your body, fucking you like he hated you until his body stilled, growled out your name as he filled your cunt with ribbon after ribbon of his warm seed, watched it leak out of you too before he fucked it back into you until he slowly came back to the moment.  

He breathed heavy once he slipped from you, committing the sight of you like this to memory before he turned you to face him, pushing your hair from your face before laying a chaste kiss on your lips, he lingered a moment, grey eyes looking down at you before he picked you up, carrying your body to his bed, placing you softly upon it before getting in behind you.  

His hand stretched around your warm torso and pulled you into his chest, holding you close as he closed his eyes, thanking the gods for whatever divine source had put you in his path.  

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Masterlist

[0-animelover-0]

S/O Is The Same Gender As Them

Character(s): Aela the Huntress, Shahvee, Balimund, Farkas, Vilkas, and Scout-many-marshes.

Summary: Title is self-explanatory but basically how they act if they were dating someone of the same gender.

A/N: No pronouns are used; reader is referred to as 'woman' and/or 'man'.

Aela the Huntress

She does not care that you are the same gender as her. (She's dated both men and women you can't change my mind)

Aela defends your relationship if anyone says anything homophobic or in a way she finds offensive.

She uses her title as a way to intimidate anybody that finds your relationship 'bad'.

She portrays herself as a mature and level-headed woman but as soon as you comb her hair or show any type of affection, her eyes soften and her muscles relax.

Shahvee

This lizard woman does not give a spiders arse wether or not you are the same gender.

If she loves you than she loves you. She doesn't see anything wrong with it.

Shahvee has been around Nords her life so she knows how rude they can be. So, she is not afraid to stand up for you.

She is your beacon of light, your pride and joy. The person you love and hold dear. She soothes your worries best she can. She greets you with open arms after a tough one of your journeys.

Balimund

He may not have been in same-sex relationship before but he is definetily willing to try. (I headcannon that he thought he was straight until he met the Dragonborn)

You were his bi awakening so he was hesitent at first but after a while he became pretty affectionate with his words.

He may not be a big fan of PDA but he is not ashamed of dating you. In fact, he likes to tell people of his handsome husband.

Farkas

This hunky werewolf will treat you like he does in any relationship. He is affectionate in public and in private. Always having a hand on your hip or entwining your fingers together.

He is not ashamed of your relationship at all and even brags about having such a great partner.

He might be one of the kinder Companions of Jorrvaskr but he sure isn't gonna take hate from people who are rude towards you. His strong stature is enough to scare a man.

Vilkas

Vilkas through the years never thought he'd be in a relationship, especially being in one with another man.

When he first met you, he wondered why his heart started pounding but he brushed it off and continued his day.

He was hesitent at first but he grew to love being with you. He wouldn't trade being with you for anything. Even if he won't say it out loud.

Unlike his brother, he isn't into PDA as much but in private or inside Jorrvaskr. he always has his arms around you.

Scout-many-marshes

He loves having a partner to share life with no matter their gender. You being a man doesn't change that. He's just happy to have someone in his life.

This scaly man loves PDA and anything to showing affection. He loves just holding your hand or leaning in your touch. In private, he is very gentle and loving. He loves just tracing patterns over your skin with his thumbs.

He boasts about his spouse that is the infamous Dragonborn. He feels lucky that he gets to return to you after a long day of work.