skyrimkinkmeme | Meme Announcements!

Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

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Write!Anon, I just have to say a huge THANK YOU for filling this! And with Brynjolf, too, who is just such a total bro. I love you, I love your DB, I love the snark ... I love it all.

It's the 'Top Ten Greatest Heists Ever By The Supremely Awesome Dragonborn' not the 'Lusty Dragonborn Maid. This made me laugh so long and loud. Thank you, thank you!

If you've done any other fics on the meme I'd love to read them.

Hahaha, YES! Seconded.

This is some of the most beautifully written.. writing ('cuz U don't wanna just call it porn 'cuz it's WAY MORE THAN THAT) I have ever read. Keep doing what you're doing, a!a. I am in awe. *v*

The knight examined the ring on his finger, watching the light shine off the surface, watching the slight shimmer from the faint enchantment it held.

It didn’t weight much, but for some reason it felt solid and strong, keeping Vilkas grounded when all he wanted to do was jump for joy and bounce like an excited child. Because this ring meant that he held… a certain ownership of something rather valuable and coveted in Skyrim at the moment.

Vilkas looked around the side of the building to still see Gunnar talking with one of the many guests that had come today. The old warrior wiped away at his brow, trying to keep some of the sweat out of his eyes and said something to a red haired woman, looking like he desperately wanted to get out of the strange heat that seemed to be plaguing Skyrim.

Or into my arms Vilkas thought wistfully.

Gunnar finished his chat and before some other person could harass him he loudly declared he needed to do something and headed towards Vilkas. And as the old warrior neared, both he and the knight’s expressions lit up and they both smiled. And when the old man finally joined him in the shade, he was nearly grinning from ear to ear.

“So sonny” He nearly purred, standing in front of the knight “I’ve finally got you, all of you”

“Yes, you have” Vilkas smiled.

The old warrior ducked his head a bit to capture a quick peck before straightening up

“And all I had to do was stick a ring on you” Gunnar smiled warmly.

“No, you had all of me before that” Vilkas sighed, reaching up to cup Gunnar’s slightly sticky face in his hands.

“Hmm, did I now?” Gunnar purred

He leaned down again, but when their mouth connected again it was much more passionate and much longer. The old warrior’s rough lips pressed against the knight’s lovingly at first, filled with the passion that the old warrior had for Vilkas. His hands came up to capture Vilkas’ face, his calloused thumbs sweeping gentle circles across the knight’s cheeks. Vilkas’ arms came up and wrapped around the old warrior’s bare chest and pull him all that closer.

And then it got a little rougher and wetter, Gunnar’s tongue slipping out to swipe across the knight’s, him wanting entrance into the sweet haven. It only took two swipes of that tongue across his sensitive lips for the knight to give in and part his lips for the old warrior’s enjoyment as he quickly dove in to claim every inch of that sweet mouth.

Feeling that oh so talented and wet muscle in his mouth, roughly tangling with his own before friskily tasting the top of his mouth or swiping across his teeth, the knight couldn’t help but feel a rush of blood make its way south. He groaned against Gunnar’s mouth, completely letting go to the desire, letting his hands wonder across the broad, hardened back of his husband.
Gunnar let him go with an obscenely loud smack before leaning a bit back to look over his handy work.

Vilkas’s mouth and cheeks were a lovely aroused pink, his mouth wet with their combined saliva, his breathing hard and fast to catch what Gunnar had practically sucked out.

“Hmm, some how you look even better now” Gunnar leered before bending down a bit to kiss Vilkas’ forehead affectionately “With that hot and bothered expression and those fancy clothes”

Vilkas took a moment to gulp down enough breaths to manage an answer.

“Well, not as nice as you do without your shirt” Vilkas managed.

“Aren’t you sweet?” Gunnar grinned before landing another kiss on his lover’s wet mouth.

It was about then that a wicked smile crossed Gunnar’s face and his lone eye shined with devious thoughts.

“How about doing something bad sonny?” Gunnar grinned.

“Huh?”

(sorry for just dropping this here, but reading through the rules of FF I realized that someone somewhere would have been very upset with me for placing it there, so I hope you guys at least enjoy this dose of smut)

tag: m!dragonborn, Vilkas, slash, age kink, blowjob (and I'm sure I'm missing some but bear with me)

Gunnar urged his hot and bothered knight further away from the crowd around back to the back of the temple and then led him over to a small stone building.

“G-Gunnar! Have some respect! This is someone’s tomb!” Vilkas snapped indignantly.

“No it’s not” Gunnar chuckled before pushing Vilkas onto his rump on the stone coffin.

“This entire little plot of land belongs to a certain little group of pickpockets, cutthroats and low life scum” Gunnar smiled, getting to his knees before his knight.

“…Thieves Guild?” Vilkas gaped.

The old warrior just grinned before placing his large hands on Vilkas’ knees and gently encouraging them apart until the growing bulge in the knight’s pants was exposed for Gunnar to see.

“Seriously Gunnar, the Thieves Guild?” Vilkas mumbled, quickly losing his ability to think.

Gunnar just grinned mischievously before leaning forward until Vilkas could feel hot breath against his aching prick. The old warrior let his hot breath wash across the straining bulge until finally Vilkas choked out

“Gunnar please!”

And then the old warrior’s talented mouth was pressed against the cloth, wetly suckling at Vilkas’ penis through the cloth.

“Gah” Vilkas moaned, hips starting to move restlessly “G-gunnar, you… old pervert!”

Said old pervert just smiled against the saliva wet cloth before boldly running his teeth along the bulge, hands coming up to pin the knight’s hips down as they started to buck helplessly. Teeth pressed down a bit and the knight starting moaning loudly.

“F-fuck” Vilkas moaned.

Then the old warrior’s teeth bit down lightly on the bulge, and Vilkas literally barked, hips churning restlessly in Gunnar’s hands, trying to seek more stimulation. Vilkas was just so close, just a bit more and

Gunnar pulled back his teeth and left a wet kiss on the straining bulge, leaning back to look up at the watery eyed knight.

“I’ve only teased you a little bit and look at you, ready to burst” Gunnar teased.

“P-please” Vilkas nearly begged.

“What, you want the real thing?” Gunnar grinned perversely before leaning back forward to plant a firm kiss on the nearly twitching bulge “I suppose you’ve earned it, being a good lad and all”

The hands pinning the knight’s hips shifted until Gunnar’s fingertips could hook into the waist of the knight’s trousers, and then Gunnar was gently tugging the offending garment down Vilkas’ trembling hips and thighs, pulling and tugging on them until Vilkas’ erect penis could spring free and the knight’s ass was one cold stone.

With no more teasing or some comment to turn Vilkas red, Gunnar reached out and flicked the ruddy, damp head with his tongue, something that made the knight spit out some curse, trying to buck his hips only for them to be pinned again. The old warrior gave Vilkas a cheeky smile before placing a light kiss on the head and then ever so slowly taking it into his mouth, much to the knight’s bane.

“Gunnar” Vilkas begged/growled.

Gunnar grinned around the bit of flesh in his mouth before starting to suck the weeping head a bit, drawing moan after moan from his bothered knight. He seemed intent on pushing Vilkas to the brinks of sanity because the old bastard tried everything in the book, including but not limited to running his tongue along the slit, nibbling along where the head joined the veined shaft and running his tongue along the sensitive veins that pulsed lively beneath the flushed and wet skin.

All the while poor Vilkas could feel the need to release weigh heavily in his aching balls. Every magical thing Gunnar did was amazing, but not enough to make him release in that wickedly talented mouth. Gods, he just needed something a little more.

Suddenly the old man’s mouth disappeared and Vilkas actually whined from the loss, turning his glazed over eyes to Gunnar’s lone one in a feeble attempt to start begging for the attention again.

“Don’t worry sonny, I’m gonna get you off but I want to do this right” Gunnar grinned, quickly wetting a finger in his mouth.

Vilkas was about to try and say something, trying oh so hard to think past the lustful daze, but then Gunnar leaned forward and did something amazing. The old warrior completely relaxed his throat and took the knight’s entire erect penis into it, effectively deep throating the knight much to his pleasure if his impressively loud cry was anything to go by. Not to mention the old warrior’s hands were elsewhere, so Vilkas was free to thrust his hips forward and fuck his husband’s throat, though he did it lovingly.

He wasn’t going to last long, not with that kind of pleasure. He could already feel his release building up, ready to shoot into Gunnar’s mouth. Just that little bit more

“Ugh!” Vilkas grunted.

A wet finger was pressing against his anus, rubbing it firmly. And before Vilkas could warn Gunnar what would happen, that finger delved into him, immediately jabbing his prostate.

“Gunnar!” Vilkas practically screamed, finally coming deep in his husband’s throat.

It seemed to take forever, feeling his balls empty themselves what seemed completely and utterly, Gunnar easily drinking it down. His eyes closed in the utter bliss of it all, moaning loudly as his body started to feel boneless.

And then it was done and he fell back fully on the coffin, a boneless mess, as Gunnar released him and pulled his finger free from the confines of his knight’s twitching bowels. The old warrior got to his feet, grinning like the sly silver fox he was, before leaning over the mess of his husband and landing a kiss on his panting and wet mouth. Vilkas could taste himself in the kiss and groaned from the bitter but strangely erotic taste.

Gunnar let him go with a wet smack and stood up again, smirking as he wiped at his mouth with one hand and tucked himself back into his trousers, apparently having spent himself while pleasuring the knight.

“G-gunnar?” Vilkas managed.

The old warrior just smirked before reaching down to get a grip on the spent knight’s shoulders and urging him to his feet. Once they had managed that with Vilkas’ jelly knees, Gunnar tugged up his trousers and placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

“My cute little sonny” Gunnar chuckled.

“Dirty old man” Vilkas mumbled lovingly, resting his head against the old warrior’s chest.

~*~

Sometime later that day…

~*~

Brynjolf and Vex were just about to enter the little stone building that doubled as one of the secret entrances into the hideout.

“That job took way too long” Vex groaned, heaving the sack of pilfered goods over her other shoulder so the other could rest.

“Well it’s done, and it went off without a hitch” Brynjolf said cheerily.

Hey entered the stone building and before Brynjolf could duck down to push the button, Vex made a rather loud noise of disgust.

“What is it?”

“Look” Vex gagged, pointing at the button.

Under the low night, the red haired thief saw a creamy white liquid on the button, and it took only a second to come up with what it was.

“What the… who in the name of Nocturne was messing around in here!” Brynjolf snapped.

“…Do you think it was the person who sent us that letter? The one that told us ‘You stole from the Companions, now I’m gonna make your life a living hell’?” Vex ventured.

Brynjolf only sighed before rummaging in his bag for a rag.

~*~

That night, with his knight in his arms, Gunnar fell asleep with a satisfied smile on his face.

(This had been a small idea for a semi-public blow job that was supposed to be quick AND double as smut writing practice, and then it kind got outta hand, but I hoped you guys enjoy it at least. Peace out my pups!)

char:Vilkas char:Dragonborn prompt:filled race:Breton es:skyrim relationship:het kink:badweather char:F!PC kink:fluff

We'd walked out of the Silver Hand's hideout at Driftshade Refuge into a roaring blizzard. By this point I was tired, grumpy and utterly fed up. Night was coming fast this far north and our little hunting expedition hadn't erased any of the guilt I felt over Kodlak and Skjor's death and it certainly hadn't given me closure. If anything I felt worse. And judging from the dark expression on my shield-brother's face it hadn't helped him either.
"Great." Vilkas moved up to stand beside me in the doorway, scowling, though whether it was at the weather, my company or Kodlak's death I couldn't say. Probably all three knowing him. "We'll have to bunk down here, maybe one the side rooms won't be too covered in blood."
"I am not sleeping here, Vilkas." The whole place set my teeth on edge and that said something considering some of the places I'd had to sleep in the past few months.
"Do you have a better idea then? We can't go out in that." The big Nord was practically growling, still tense despite the earlier vengeance spree. Or maybe because of it.
"Sure we can." I flashed him my smuggest smile before stepping out into the cold, "LOK VAAH KOOR."
The swirling skies were pushed away by the sheer force of my Thu'um leaving an eerily calm oasis around the compound. Unable to suppress a smirk I turned back to my shield-brother and cocked an eyebrow. He just rolled his eyes, much to my annoyance. A little appreciation wouldn't go amiss, you know. Ria gets a compliment for killing a bear, I dispel a blizzard with just my voice and not even a nod. Urgh!
"If we head to the main road we can stop at that Inn we saw earlier. I'm not Shouting my way back to Whiterun."
"Fine."
"Fine. I'll lead." Without waiting for him I turned and stormed towards the gate, though my newly acquired werewolf senses told me he was following.

The path down the mountains was treacherous in the darkening twilight, even with my Thu'um sweeping the winds and snow away. Stumbling into hidden drifts on the uneven ground meant that I was soaked through and frozen and I was beginning to regret my earlier stubbornness but sheer pride kept me stumbling on. Vilkas was having a slightly easier time, Nord blood and height better adapted for these kind of conditions and as I sank into another bloody snow drift he easily hauled me out.
"My turn to take point now, sister."
If he had asked to take the lead I would have said no and carried on out of sheer pride. If he had shown condescension or pity I would have refused. I hated showing weakness. And he knew it. So instead I followed silently in his footsteps until eventually we stumbled onto the road. Even down here it was still bitterly cold and I was sure I was turning blue. My feet felt like blocks of lead and I was shivering like Sheogorath on skooma. Eventually the welcome glow of lights dotted the distance and I stumbled towards it, only keeping my feet thanks to a steadying hand on my elbow, which I shook off with a glare.

The narrow windows leaked light and the dull murmur of voices into the evening air, hinting at warm beds and food. We hurried through the door into the warmth of the Inn. I pushed my way to the blazing fire pit in the centre of the room and shut my eyes, basking in the warmth. A moment later Vilkas was at my side, "I've spoken to the Innkeeper and managed to get the last room. He's sending over food as well whilst the maid cleans it."
"Hmmm." Then my brain caught up. "Wait, the last room?"
"Don't worry, new blood. It's separate beds."
I just threw him a glare as I stomped over to the Innkeeper. I could hear his exasperated sigh as he trailed behind me.

Apparently being Dragonborn and Thane of several Holds wasn't enough to swing separate rooms even when coupled with the persuasive flirting that Rune and Vex had tried teaching me one bored evening in the Flagon. It probably didn't help that for starters I was wearing my no-skin-showing Guild armour and that I had a tall, very muscular, very grumpy werewolf stood right behind me with a face like thunder on him. The innkeeper soon ended my pathetic attempts by simply walking off and hiding in the back rooms.Bastard. I didn't even want to look at what I'm sure would have been Vilkas' smug expression.

Still grumbling to myself, I sat down at a table close by the fire, arms folded and scowling like a fishwife. Vilkas sat opposite and stretched out in what was a strangely cat-like manner considering he was a werewolf. One of the serving girls brought over two mugs of cheap and sour ale, obviously assuming we were two poor mercenaries. Well, she was half right. The blonde Nord was making sure Vilkas got a good eyeful of her charms and giggling like the mad prince himself when he asked her about food. Pulling a face I drained my beer and idly drummed my fingers on the table, trying to ignore the girl's idiotic flirting. Fortunately the second waitress, hands full with our two steaming bowls of stew, was more sensible and, more importantly, overworked enough to pull the girl away from the Nord as she left. The stew was hot and surprisingly delicious, with subtle spices that reminded me of my childhood in Camlorn and I managed to devour the whole bowl before Vilkas was even halfway done. Manners dictated that I waited for my companion to finish so I stayed at the table, satiated and warm, finishing the dregs of my ale and then helping myself to sips from Vilkas' tankard, mostly because I knew it would annoy him. But he didn't comment, continuing to eat his stew in measured, precise bites and occasionally taking a sip from what was now our tankard. It was almost a companionable silence between us. The heat and the food had me just about nodding off in my chair so I tuned out the waitress who came to clear our plates and as a result almost missed the magic two words she mentioned to Vilkas.
"Hot springs?" My eyes shot open and my voice almost whimpered the words, hoping it wasn't a cruel daydream.
The woman smiled almost pityingly at me, "Yes, dear. Hot springs. We have two small pools here, just head out back and turn left for the male pool and right for females. They're the best in Skyrim-"
Whatever else she was about to say was cut off as I scrambled to my feet and stumbled in the direction she had pointed, leaving Vilkas chuckling softly behind me. Idiot.

The hot spring, after so many days of travelling and fighting, was utter bliss. A small whimper slipped out as I sank gratefully down into dark waters, the heat easing the aches and pains and releasing some of the tension in my muscles. And for the first time since crossing into this icebox of a country I was warm. If they could just get rid of the egg smell then I would just stay here. Forever. Screw those pesky dragons. Eventually, however, the pruning of my fingers and toes and the rumble of my stomach told me it was time to leave. Flakes of snow were being to spiral down, suggesting that we'd brought the bad weather with us. Feeling much cleaner I threw on my undershirt and boots, shoving my smelly and blood-covered leathers into my pack to clean tomorrow. If Lydia was here she'd nag me until I cleaned them. Heading back through the Inn the well dressed Orsimer in the corner gave me a sniff of disproval at my choice of attire but I was past caring. I made a quick stop at the bar and paid for four bottles of BlackBriar mead, far too sickly for my taste but hopefully strong enough to drown out the worst of the beast-blood and make me forget that I was sharing the room with Grumpy-Face. And also, hopefully, a partial truce offering. Vilkas wasn't in the common room and the serving wench who had brought us our drinks told me, in between giggles and blushes, that he had headed up to our room.

The tiny narrow room was barely big enough for two narrow cots and a worn beside table sandwiched between them. Above that was a dirty window paned with thick whorled glass. The room was also cold and smelled slightly of damp, though it didn't seem to bother Vilkas. He was stretched out on his bed, also much cleaner and wearing a dark linen shirt and trousers, book in hand. I noted the title with a small snort of amusement; The Dragonborn Comes. "Here." I gently lobbed him his two bottles. He nodded and broke open the wax and cork on one, taking a long sip, before returning to his book. It was strange, I'd never seen him out of armour. Even at Jorrvaskr the Companions tended to live in their armour on a day-to-day basis, either for training or protection whilst out on errands. He'd even washed off the war paint and he looked...younger, less intense.

Kicking off my boots and dumping my pack and armour at the foot of my bed, I vaulted onto it to sit cross legged, wrapping myself in the damp smelling blanket and pulling out my journal to flick through the long list of tasks I still had to do. At least I can cross out 'Get revenge on the Silver Hand for killing Kodlak-the bastards.' Just looking at the list depressed me so I slammed it shut and shoved back in the bottom of my pack and then shoving the pack under the bed in the vain hope that 'if I can't see it then it's not there.' I could still feel it though, like a weight on my mind, lurking, nagging me to get on with it. It even had a voice that sounded just like Delphine's. So I tried to drown it out with another swig of mead. My thoughts were still swirling as we sat there in silence, both sipping on BlackBriar Mead. Mostly I was thinking about the last few days and Kodlak's death, a small Delphine-voiced part of my brain was nagging me about getting on with the whole saving-the-world-thing and a much larger part than I wanted to admit was concerned with the man sat on the bed opposite me. What I couldn't figure out was why he hated me. Or even why he annoyed me so much. Nobody treated me the way he did. Not since I'd become the Dragonborn and supposed saviour of Tamriel. Sure I'd done some bad things in the past but I was trying to make a difference now. That has to count for something, right? Because if it doesn't then what's the point? Even after I thought I'd proven myself, completed hundreds of the fetch-and-carry/hunt-the-criminal tasks that he'd set me and won the respect of the other members of the Circle, he still ignored me. And I wanted his approval. His respect. For some reason, it mattered to me.

"Why do you hate me so much?" The words blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them. Damn mead. Vilkas frowned at me over his bottle, eyes shadowed and expressionless, "Why do you think that I hate you?"
"Umm, because you've barely spoken to me since I joined, not that you wanted me to join in the first place, you always take one of the others out with you on quests instead of me, you give me the easiest tasks that are as far away from Jorrvaskr as possible and you all but accused me of failing Kodlak. And that, by the way, bloody hurts-"
"I don't hate you."
"What?"
"I. Don't. Hate. You." His teeth were audibly grinding together after each word and he sounded, well, like he was being forced to admit something he really didn't want to. I swung my bare legs off the bed so that I was facing him, face twisting with incredulity. He sighed and put his book on the tiny table wedged between our beds and sat up so he mirrored me, knees almost touching. "You've more than proven yourself. If I didn't think that I wouldn't have asked you to come here with me. As for the rest-" He trailed off and gazed off out the window and the thickening snow.
"As for the rest what?" My voice, when I finally found it, came out unusually quiet. And my heart was racing. Vilkas glanced back at me and our eyes locked.
"You call out to the beast inside me. I can even smell your heart beating in your chest. Every time I'm near you I feel like I'm about to lose control."
"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. In a way I understood Vilkas far better than perhaps the others could. I knew that out of all the Circle Vilkas struggled the most with the call of the blood and had struggled with the burden the longest. Farkas was far too happy-go-lucky to truly give in to the darker urges that I had felt since turning and Aela was far too disciplined to lose control. Both Vilkas and I relied on being wild and unpredictable in a fight, prepared to do whatever was necessary in order to survive and the beast-blood thrived on that darkness. I had been finding it hard enough and I had only been a werewolf for less than two months. So the fact that I was making it worse for him, in any way, even from what could only be sheer annoyance, made me feel awful. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged, still looking out the window, "Not your fault."
I could see the toll the struggle was taking on him in his eyes, knew what it looked like because I saw it in my mirror every damn day. And I wanted to take it away. So I did the most stupid thing I could think of. I kissed him.

My lips brushed his, gently pressing. There was no response from him. Then my brain caught up with my body and I pulled away, eyes wide and face flushing. Vilkas just looked stunned. As you would be! You spend all your time together bickering and fighting and the one time you actually talk what do you go and do? Kiss him! Who does that outside of bloody romance novels?! I had to escape. Maybe there's a dragon nearby that could swallow me whole. Standing I went to stride to the door when something grabbed hold of my wrist and yanked me back. Vilkas was stood in between the beds, hand encircling my wrist. Another tug pulled me in close to him and his lips descended on mine, gently teasing. His thumbs tracing circles on the back of my hands, still held in his grasp. I let out a soft whimper and his tongue slipped into my mouth.
I slid one hand up to tangle in his dark hair, allowing the blanket wrapped around me to drop floor, deepening the kiss, our tongues moving together in a mimic of a more primitive dance. His now free hand slid up my side in an intimate caress then swooped round my front to lazily encircle my breast, spiralling in towards my hardening nipple. Beneath the surface of our embrace I could feel the stirring beast blood and knew that soon our carefully held restraint would snap, a thought that made me equal parts nervous and excited. Vilkas gently lifted the hand he held to join the other at his neck and pulled me closer against his muscular form. His lips slid from my mouth to trace a line down my jaw towards a deliciously sensitive spot behind my ear as his hands gently loosened the laces of my undershirt and slipped it off one shoulder. His lips descended along my neck and suckled across my collarbone. Little breathy whimpers escaped my mouth as his hand found my right nipple and began gently teasing it. I wanted more. I wanted to feel his warm skin against mine and began tugging at his shirt. Vilkas took the hint and pulled his shirt off revealing a muscular and scarred torso that made my stomach do flips. His gaze was dark with lust but he didn't move, clearly waiting for me to reciprocate, so I pulled my shirt off in one motion baring myself to his gaze. He let out a low primal growl as my body came into view, pulling me back to him and kissing me deeply and passionately before he easily swept me up in his arms and deposited me on the narrow bed. He leant over me, body sheltering mine, bracing his weight on one arm and sweeping the tangled and still damp strands of hair off my face. "Beautiful," he murmured before pressing his lips back onto mine. I moaned trying desperately to press my body against his, to feel him close to me. He chuckled and slid his lips back down the path he had traced earlier. This time though he didn't stop at my collarbone sweeping down to suckle at my breast, his other hand gently massaging the other then sliding down my flat stomach to caress my hipbone and sweeping back up. Then his mouth began to descend further trailing the line his hand had just traced. My eyes widened as his tongue circled my navel and then headed further south towards my inner thighs. As he went he slipped my smallclothes down my legs, throwing them to the floor. He gently raised my legs until they were propped on his shoulders and began kissing my thigh from my knee to the crux of my pelvis. His teeth grazed my inner thigh before his tongue languidly swept over the length of my slit, making my hips arch involuntarily against him, though he held me firm. "Vilkas," I pleaded, desperate to make him move faster. He repeated the action once more, grinning playfully at me as I growled at him, before pressing his mouth down on me hard, tongue flickering against my sensitive skin making me cry out at the sensations. His tongue probed deeply into me then slid up to caress my clit. My body began to tense and shiver and Vilkas didn't let up until I came undone with a hoarse cry.

He let me catch my breath then moved back up over me, caressing my face with a calloused hand and I smiled up at him, pulling him back down. I could taste myself on him. He groaned as one of my hands slid down his chest and then followed the trail of hair along his abdomen to the drawstring that tied his trousers together. Undoing the tie one-handed wasn’t fast enough for him so he pulled his trousers off himself, lips never breaking our kiss. I could feel his length pressing against my thigh, hard and hot, and my hand drifted gently to it, stroking it lightly, making him groan, trying to tease him in the way that he had teased me earlier. My lips slid along his stubbled jawline and as I nibbled his earlobe Vilkas lost patience and slid into me in one slick movement. The suddenness made me cry out and my fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair. Vilkas, ever perceptive, froze in position waiting until my panting eased, gently caressing my skin and raining kisses on my shut eyelids.

Soon my body began to relax and my eyes fluttered open. A tiny twitch of my hips set Vilkas in motion, slowly sliding in and out at first but his movement soon became faster as I wrapped my legs around his waist and began meeting his thrusts with my hips. I came again, still sensitive from my earlier climax, Vilkas slowing his thrusts, riding out the aftershocks ripping through my body. Tugging gently at Vilkas I turned our entwined bodies until he was lying beneath me, a somewhat awkward manoeuvre in the cramped space. For the first time in so long I felt free, unencumbered and it was utter bliss. I grinned down at Vilkas and he smiled back as he ran his hands up my sides to cup my breasts, gently kneading them as I began to ride him. He pulled himself into a seated position so that he could taste my neck, teeth gently scraping against that sensitive hollow in my throat and I moaned as the new angle hit that bundle of nerves inside me. My thrusts came faster and faster and I clawed at his back, gasping. Then it was his turn to tense and moan, murmuring my name against my skin. As I felt him throb within me I slid my hand between our bodies down to my clit until it was too much and my orgasm burned through me, consuming me even as his seed splashed inside me. He cupped my face in his hands, running his thumb across my lips, an uncharacteristically tender expression on his face that equal parts terrified and warmed me. He pulled me back to lie with him, tugging the dropped blanket from the floor to cover us.

My head rested on his shoulder, wedged on my side between the wall and his warm body in the cramped bed. Warm in the shelter of our embrace, whilst outside the blizzard swirled around us, I didn't know what the future or even tomorrow would bring but right now I didn't care.

I'm really pleased you like it OP; small confession- this was my first time posting...but I couldn't resist your amazing prompt :D Thank you!

I've actually just posted my second prompt called Clear Skies (apparently the muses are being kind to me at the moment)

P.S if you have any more prompts posted let me know and to the other A!A- I'm looking forward to reading your fic; I love Dragonborn :)

Fifteen years of age

Dovahkiin let out a small groan as he sat near the blazing fire. The cold chill slowly left his body as he relaxed. His muscles ached, but it was a good ache, it told him that he had a good work out. He glanced at the joor Odahviing had brought back, the odd thing was he never learnt the man’s name, as far as the dovah were concerned it wasn’t needed. He knew that once the joor couldn’t train him more the jul would be dead. It was for their protection, no Joorre could know about dragons yet.

He heard the roar before he saw the red dragon and grinned. Odahviing was coming, now he could be soaring in the sky. He watched as the dragon landed, kicking up snow everywhere. He wiped the snow from his face with a scowl and snicked as the other jul started swearing at Odahviing. He waited patiently to see what Odahviing was going to do. He wasn’t surprised when the red dragon shouted ‘yol’ just in front of the terrified jul feet. Dovahkiin couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing when the jul skittered away quickly.

He watched the man sit by the fire scowling. He couldn’t believe after years of living here with dov he hadn’t gotten used to it. It made no sense. They hadn’t killed him yet, so he had no reason to fear as of yet.

He glanced towards his guardians and listened in on the conversation. He wasn’t surprised when he heard that they were talking about killing the jul. He was surprised it had taken this long. When the Jul first got here, he had tried countless times to kill both dragons at one time or another. He thought for sure they would have killed him then, but they hadn’t. Instead they shouted at him, burning him badly. It took weeks for him to heal with the help of a special shout that he had just learnt. It helped heal the injured and the jul had been injured.

As he listened he knew the jul had pushed it too far and it was time for him to go.

“When do we do you plan?” Dovahkiin asked.

“When he is useless, he cannot leave the mountain,” Odahviing answered.
Dovahkiin nodded, he agreed the jul would give them away. It was unsafe for them, he would tell the joorre that dragons were back and they would either believe or not, but they couldn’t take the chance.

“Do you want to practice more?” Dovahkiin asked the jul.

“Sure, you need it,” the man stated with a sneer. He shrugged, used to the jul ire. It started showing at the second year he had been up here. And had gotten worse with every year later. He knew soon the man wouldn’t be breathing. His guardians were starting to lose their patients with the joor.

Dovahkiin knew what practice was, but this wasn’t it. The man’s swings were deadly, aimed to kill, not harm or teach, but to kill. He knew now that it was time. He swung out, using all the teachings this man had taught him to win this battle. He would be lying if he said it was an easy battle, it wasn’t. He had received a few cuts and jabs, but in the end he had won. His sword sinking deep within the jul’s stomach. He watched the jul collapsed to his knees, a shocked look on his face.

Dovahkiin watched without emotion, not caring that he just killed a person. He didn’t flinch when Odahviing walked over and grabbed the body. He didn’t blink or flinch as the dragon tossed the body into the air and swallowed it whole.

He knew all joorre would be disgusted at this sight. He had been taught that the joorre feared the dov for good reason. But as far as he was concerned they were just following their nature. It just happened that joorre were part of their food chain.

He had been in the joor cities a few times now to learn. Most ignore him and he never gave his name when asked. Odahviing had told him that rule and he made sure to listen to it. His voice was just as powerful, or more powerful than most dragons except these two that he knew of.

Soon he would face his destiny and defeat Alduin then lead the dragons. It was why he was here, what he was made for, why he was training. He was Dovahkiin, dragon hunter. He took their souls so they didn’t rise again when called.

“Looks like we will need to find another to teach me,” Dovahkiin stated with amusement.

“You fought well,” Odahviing praised. “The body did not bother you?”

“Nid, it was me or him. I was the stronger,” Dovahkiin answered with a shrug. He could feel their pride. He was tired now, after the long day. He went over to Odahviing, placing his furs on the ground and leaning against the Dovah. He allowed the dragon’s heat to bathe him in warmth.

“It’s time you he left here. Alduin is coming, I can feel it,” Paarthurnax stated as he looked down at the young man who was like a son to him. Only with family were dragons affectionate and he had treated him as if he was his own offspring. Odahviing - he wasn’t sure where he stood with the other dragon. They were good friends, he knew that and he knew the other dragon would protect him with his life. The joor had earned the other dragon’s respect more so than any other, even himself.

But there was still more the joor needed to do before he was ready to face his destiny. He needed to leave from here. Odahviing would be the best to teach him now. He knew this and accepted it.

Paarthurnax watched as Odahviing nudged the Dovahkiin and smirked as he heard the grumbling. The two would go hunt and then leave Skyrim until he was a full adult. They had discussed it many times.

“Are you sure I should leave?” Dovahkiin asked as he walked over to Paarthurnax.

“Geh, you must for your own safety, soon Aldiun will be here and your destiny will begin,” Paarthurnax told the young Dovahkiin.

“And if I don’t want to leave?” Dovahkiin asked quietly, sadness entering his eyes as he stared at the older dragon.

“It matters not. You know this. You must leave Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax muttered and nuzzled Dovahkiin.

Dovahkiin rested his forehead against Paarthurnax’s snout, “Will I be allowed to come back home?”

“Geh, you will in time. For now Odahviing will watch over you and keep you safe,” Paarthurnax murmured giving Dovahkiin a gentle nudge of his snout, pushing him away. Sadness entered him as he watched Dovahkiin fly away on the younger dragon’s back. He wondered if he would see his kul again. With many dangers about many things could happen. He trusted Odahviing to protect Dovahkiin, he still worried.

Dovahkiin watched the Paarthurnax until he was just a spot, “Odahviing do you believe I will see him again?” Dovahkiin asked quietly. Even though the wind was roaring by them he knew the dragon heard.

“Geh I do, unless his brother kills him when he returns. It is something you should be prepared for Dovahkiin,” Odahviing answered him honestly.

“Geh you are right. We will have to wait and see,” Dovahkiin murmured, giving the huge mountain that had been his home for so long a final glance. He could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, but he wasn’t going to show them. The Dov showed no weakness nor would he. He would not dishonor his father like that. Paarthurnax may not be his true father, but he was the only one he knew and he would honor his father’s teachings.

“It is time to hunt and then leave,” Odahviing reminded him, testing to see how Dovahkiin would react.

“Geh, we will hunt and then leave and continue my training until it is time to return,” Dovahkiin stated firmly.

Odahviing gave a loud roar of pride before dipping low to the ground and catching their prey.

Age 20

“Where are we heading?” Dovahkiin asked.

“Can’t you feel it?” Odahviing asked, craning his neck to see Dovahkiin.

“That Alduin has risen? Geh, I can feel it on the air. I feel his call. Are you going to return to him Odahviing?” Dovahkiin asked worriedly.

“Niid, I will not be returning as his lieutenant, I will stay with Paarthurnax where it will be safer,” Odahviing answered.

“You never answered where are we heading?” Dovahkiin asked once more.

“I will be landing in the woods and you can go into the city to replace the blade you lost,” Odahviing answered with a chuckle as he landed. “Proceed with caution, there are joorre nearby.”

“Geh, I can smell them. If I am caught I will call for you when it is safe,” Dovahkiin told him.

“I will be here unless you take too long, then I will take to the skies and search,” Odahviing said as he curled up on the rocks. “And remember do not harm the joorre.”

“I remember,” Dovahkiin muttered as he walked away from the napping dovah.

They landed deep in the woods, Dovahkiin climbed off the young dragon’s back. “Odahviing do you think Paarthurnax still lives?” Dovahkiin asked quietly.

“Geh I do,” Odahviing answered, certainty filling his voice.

“Good. After I purchase my blade I want to go to Monahven,” Dovahkiin declared, his stance firm as he glared at the smirking dragon.

“Niid, not till the call Dovahkiin,” Odahviing reminded him.

“Niid! We will go!” Dovahkiin snapped coldly, his voice vibrating with the build up of the thu’um.

“Dovahkiin!” Odahviing warned.

“YOL TORR SHUL!” Dovahkiin shouted his anger at the dovah.

“You thu’um is powerful, but not powerful enough kiir. Do not test me!” Odahviing warned.

Odahviing sighed when he saw Dovahkiin about to shout once more. Without hesitation he knocked Dovahkiin to the ground and hid his snicker. He smirked tauntingly down at Dovahkiin. “Conceded,” Odahviing ordered.

“Niid! FUS RO DAH!” Dovahkiin shouted, throwing Odahviing off of him. His eyes widened, this was the first time ever that he was able to get the upper hand against the dovah. He was surprise, but proud of himself. He had just proven his voice was stronger.

He braced himself for the shout he knew that was coming. Odahviing shout hit him, he stumbled back a few steps before righting himself once again. He looked the dovah dead in the eye and smirked.

“Thuri,” Odahviing said proudly and he bowed his head towards Dovahkiin. “You’ve grown strong, Paarthurnax would be proud. Now you are ready to face Aldiun.”

Dovahkiin smiled proudly, Odahviing had just called him Thuri. He knew of the dovah history and this was a great victory. “Then you will take me to Paarthurnax?” Dovahkiin asked, trying his best to keep his voice devoid of all emotions.

“Niid, it is too dangerous. You know this. Alduin could be there waiting for you and use Paarthurnax against you. We will wait thuri,” Odahviing stated adamantly.

“Krosis, Odahviing. Drem, geh, you are correct. We will wait,” Dovahkiin muttered and walked over to the red dragon. He placed his hand on the dragon’s snout, petting the warn scales.

“I will go to the city and pick up a blade. When I return we will find somewhere safe to stay,” Dovahkiin told him before heading off into the trees.

Odahviing watched him walk away, “No, we won’t thuri. Your place is with the joor now,” he said softly that he knew Dovahkiin wouldn’t hear.

Dovahkiin didn’t know how long he stayed in the tree line watching as men were being hauled off into carts. He was surprised to see one gagged and his hands bound, while all the others only had their hands bound. He wondered what made that joor so special that he would be gagged. His first thought was this man knew a the way of the voice. He remembered mention of a joor training with the greybeards before he came to Monahven. He also remembered Arngier telling him the man left to fight in a war. Dovahkiin wasn’t sure what war and he didn’t really care.

He heard that there was a rebellion going on here Skyrim when Odvahviing had him listening in at the bar for rumors. But this
didn’t concern him, it had no bearing on his destiny.

Slowly he walked out of the bush and watched. He growled low when one of those other men wearing brown armor stormed over to him. He thought about shouting the lot of them to death, but he had been told not to harm the joors, he needed them.

“Tie him and put him with the others,” One of them ordered. ‘Great, just what he needed to be sitting in close quarters with joorre.’

He was seated across from a large nord, almost as large as himself. Beside him the gagged man was place and across from the gagged man was a puny joor. If the carriage bounced wrong there was a good chance that puny man would fall out.

He glanced ahead of the wagon and spotted many people riding horses and another carriage. He glanced behind them and saw another rider. Lastly he looked up in the sky over the tree tops and saw Odahviing watching, waiting. All he had to do was shout and the dragon would come and roast all of them, but that meant ousting dragons. So he didn’t call, not until he was desperate. He was probably going to jail, later he would break his way out and run to a clearing that was away from prying eyes.

“Why is he gagged?” Dovahkiin asked with a smirked as he looked at the gagged man.

“Watch yourself, you are speaking of Ulfric Stormcloak the next true high king,” the nord across from him bit out.

“Nahlot joor! Or you will not make your destination! Answer my question nu,” Dovahkiin commanded, his voice reverberating with the temptation of shouting. He saw the jul eyes widen and fear enter them. He could smell fear off of them all and enjoyed it.

“He’s gagged so he doesn’t shout, it’s how he killed the high king,” the puny man stated with fear.

“Gagging does not stop the thu’um,” Dovahkiin stated with a chuckle. “Mey.”

“How do you know this?” the big man asked.

“Mey, obviously I was taught,” Dovahkiin said with a disdainful shake of his head. He noticed the insulted look and didn’t care, it was only the truth. He may not know the customs of these people, but he had been taught enough about them. When and if he stayed in their towns he would learn more if needed. He still needed to decide if he was going to stay with them or at Monahven.

He chuckled as he saw Odahviing once more. He was so tempted to shout his name just to scare the joorre. It wouldn’t be the first time he and Odahviing had done something like that, nor would it be the last. The both of them enjoyed instilling fear in their prey.

He scowled as the wagon jerked to a stop in the middle of the road, surrounded by trees. They were nowhere near a village, so he wondered what was going on. “What’s the hold up?” he heard one of the joor call.

“I thought I saw something large flying over the tops of the trees,” another called back.

“You’re just imaging things,” another scoffed. Dovahkiin laughed at the fear he could hear in that one joor voice. It was amusing.

“You don’t seem surprised,” the man across from him said.

“I’m not. It’s my ride and he’s getting impatient,” Dovahkiin murmured with amusement.

“You’re ride flies?” the nord snort with disbelief and gave him a mocking look.

“Geh, he does,” Dovahkiin answered as he closed his eyes to meditate.

Ralof noticed as soon as the man spoke those foreign words that Ulfric’s attentions have been unwavering on the strange man. Ralof didn’t trust the man, his tone clearly stated that he was better than them. What else about that man that made him leery was the vibration from the man’s voice, almost like he was about to shout, but was holding it back. It wasn’t a shout, nothing like Ulfrics, but there was a resonance behind it that made him wary.

He couldn’t believe the young man was sleeping, now of all times. He seemed so relaxed, as if there was no worry in the world. Actually it didn’t shock him much, the man didn’t seem right in the head as it was. He glanced at his Jarl and noticed him watching the man intently. He had never seen Ulfric look at someone this intent. He didn’t want that stare turned to him, but something about this man caught Ulfric’s interest.

“I can feel you watching me Bronjun,” the man grumbled. Rolaf watched Jarl Ulfric’s eyes widened, and he stared more intently at the man.

“What’s your name stranger?” Ralof asked.

“I am not a stranger to these lands joor. Skyrim hasn’t changed much since I was lived here last,” the stranger answered without opening his eyes.

“Your accent isn’t one I recognize from Skyrim,” Ralof stated.

“Isn’t it?” the man countered with a condescending smirk. “Don’t be too sure, there are people and places in Skyrim you’ve never been or met joor.”

“Oh, like where?” Ralof scoffed. He was pretty sure anywhere he hadn’t been this stranger hadn’t been either. He made it sound like he had been everywhere.

“Monahven,” Dovahkiin answered with a small smirk. Ralof wasn’t sure what to make of him, he seemed too sure of himself, he had an air of danger to him also, but that was easily ignored now.

“Never heard of it,” Ralof muttered, he didn’t know what language the man was talking, but wasn’t impressed with his amusement.

Dovahkiin laughed, “Mey!” he spat contemptuously. Ralof scowled at him, he knew he just been insulted, but wasn’t sure how or what the young man said. He looked to Ulfric and see his intent stare had increased.

“What language are you speaking?” Ralof asked with a growl.

His eyes widened when the stranger returned his growl with one of his own. The real scary part, the strangers growl sounded more animalistic than anything he could ever do. His was of frustration and anger, yet the strangers, was of an animal, warning and anger.

“Ask your 'In'(draconic), it seems he knows considering the intent stare he’s has been giving me,” the man said without even once glancing at Ulfric. This man made him very nervous. Ralof thought with a shiver.

“Wake me when we get there,” the stranger stated as he leaned back in his seat and his body relaxing, but Ralof could see it was a ruse, this man wasn’t relaxed in the slightest. He knew one sound or one wrong movement and this man would be awake and alert.

I am really surprised no one has commented on this. Love the idea, really love it.

If OP is still keeping watch and willing to wait a couple of days I would love to fill this one.

Can't believe this hasn't been filled. Got an idea that I would love to fill this, if OP is still interested.

OP here, and THRILLED someone wants to have a go at this!

Thank you, good Write!Anon!

I know it's not the response you wanted, but I just went AWWWWWWWWWW with a big soppy grin on my face. That last line! I love these guys so much.

She's dressing a deer on the cliffs just north of Dragonbridge when she hears raised voices. Freyja drops into a crouch amidst the scrubby conifers, listening. The noise seems to be coming from the road. Bandits don't usually strike in this area - the town guards are nearly within shouting distance - but she slips through the trees to investigate, allowing the pine needles to muffle her stealthy tread.

They're at the crossroads: Thalmor justiciars, a mage and two soldiers in golden armor. And between them a man in filthy rags, hands bound before him. One of the soldiers has him by the collar. The justiciar snarls something into his face, and she watches the prisoner snarl right back, teeth bared.

With gauntleted hand the elf slams a brutal backhand blow across his cheek. The captive staggers, drops to one knee; his bound wrists scrabble in the dirt as he fights to stay upright, head hanging down between his shoulders. One of the elves says something, and then all three of them laugh. Freyja creeps closer. Presses her cheek to the mossy trunk of an ancient pine.

"...your betters," the elf is saying. "Now get up, unless you'd like a more comprehensive lesson."

Freyja can feel her jaw tighten. It's not the first time she's encountered the Thalmor; these days it seems impossible to avoid them, especially in Skyrim. But the strength of her fury surprises her. Perhaps it's only the same simmering restlessness that has dogged her for the past two months, even as she's carved through tombs and bandit camps and Forsworn hideouts. But something makes her slip a dagger into her bracers, and step out from the trees.

The mage spots her first. For a split second, alarm flashes in the justiciar's eyes. "Walk away," he barks, and the other two whirl to look at her. Their prisoner struggles to his feet. Freyja can feel his gaze as well, but she dares not meet his eyes. "What are you doing?" she asks. Steps forward.

"Taking this man to be interrogated," says one of the soldiers, hand on his sword.

Freyja allows herself to move closer, keeps her stance loose and upon. Curious, not threatening. A simple hunter startled from the woods. "What has he done?"

"He has knowledge of a cult of Talos. He will tell us what we need to know, or he will die. The choice is his."

She can't keep the antagonism from her tone. "And what right do you have to drag people away like this?"

The elf's face hardens. "By Imperial law banning Talos, we have the right to do whatever we want. And now you'll walk away, if you know what's good for you."

Freyja is in the midst of them, now. She can hear the captive's uneven breathing at her back. Her skin is tingling with anticipation of a fight, but she takes a breath and makes herself shrug. Turns away.

And in the instant when their line of sight is blocked by her body, she slips the dagger from her sleeve and cuts the prisoners' bonds.

"HERE!" She shoves the blade into his hands as the mage shouts in fury, drives an elbow into one of the soldiers' faces, lunges free. Her sword sings as she tears it from its sheath. An elven blade comes whistling down towards her face and she barely throws up her shield in time; the sword hammers against it with a thud and a force that threatens to send her to her knees. Freyja gives ground, recovers her balance, and then the battle begins in earnest.

A blow from her shield sends the Thalmor soldier reeling and she kills him almost immediately, burying her sword in his side when he staggers. The others are not so reckless. They are flanking her by the time she turns from their fallen comrade; Freyja dives behind a tree trunk, tasting lightning as a shock spell sizzles past her. Bits of pine bark fly. She knows from experience that the mage is her most dangerous enemy and breaks into a sprint as she spins free from cover, closing the distance as fast as she can. Another shock spell curls its purple fingers into her armor. Freyja grits her teeth in agony, drops her shoulder, and rams into the taller Mer with all her strength.

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