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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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Twin here! I wonder how the twoDBs would react to the stupid things people always seem to ask twins.

"So can you like... read each other's thoughts?"

"Can you like sense when the other one's in danger?"

"So are you identical.... everywhere?"

If I only I could dual fus-ro-dah in real life.

Anon is on this, she's had an idea for this very scenario floating around in her head for way too long. Does OP mind a lengthy story with a bit of angst to it on top of the smut?

You were the homeless man in the ladies fur coat. I'M DONE. There is nothing funnier on this meme. Brilliant.

That night, after being securely tucked into the small guest bed on the second floor, Etienne’s host systematically extinguishes all of the candles throughout the home, plunging the room in darkness. He hears the floorboards creak as she pads toward her own bed, just through the wall from his own. Sleep catches them both quickly.

A few hours later, in the deep of night, Etienne stirs awake from a nightmare, thoughts of being trapped in the Thalmor torture dungeon still lingering. Easing himself out of bed, he uses his finally tuned thief senses to navigate the home. The wood chills his feet despite the fire roaring downstairs. Vague flickers of light reach the second floor, but not so many that he can walk carefree. It’s definitely not the first time he’s dealt with low-light conditions, and it certainly won’t be the last.

His bare toes inch along the rough wooden floor, following the cracks between the boards to walk in a straight line. Turning left once the firelight shines again past the wall, he spies the silhouette of the sleeping Dragonborn. The woolen covers on her double bed are pulled up tight around her neck to ward off the cold. A thin pillow is lumped up to support her head.

Etienne lets out a slow exhale before proceeding with his plan to thank Malaika in the only way he knows how. Creeping to the other side of the bed, he gently peels back the covers to slide in. He starts by brushing the loose tendrils of hair out of her face, tracing his hand across her neck lightly, following his fingers with his lips.

Malaika moans lightly and rolls over towards him, onto her back. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused, before settling on him. He smiles at her, running his hand through her hair, before leaning down to lightly press his lips to hers. In her dreamy state, she presses up towards him, seeking out more of his warmth. One of her hands winds its way under his loose shirt, nails softly skating across his ribs, causing him to suck in a sharp breath, a mix of pain and pleasure.

He groans at the feeling and rolls over to rest halfway across her body, supported on one elbow. He pushes down on her mouth again, sliding his tongue across her lips, begging for entrance. She lets him in with a light moan. They kiss for a few moments, slightly entwined, before Etienne resumes his ministrations on her neck.

She groans again, deeper this time, and pushes her bosom up into his chest. One of his hands slides up her belly to tease the side of her soft breast. He stops there, focusing instead on the feeling of her skin under his lips.

Her free hand glides across his neck and up into his hair. Suddenly, she stops and he feels her hand tighten painfully in his hair, roughly pulling his head back and off her.

“What in Akatoshes name do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, using her strong legs to flip him to his back. She pins him down and even with the dim light he can see the frightful fire in her eyes.

Etienne swallows hard before answering, “I was just… trying to thank you. I meant no harm.”

Malaika’s grip on him eases as she slides off of him. “I…apologize. I should not have reacted so.” She sighs heavily. “Etienne, I do not need any thanks. And what you need is rest not…a quick romp in a stranger’s bed.”

“Malaika…”

“No, Etienne, please. We can speak in the morning. Let me help you back to your bed.” She casts Candlelight and the room is suddenly illuminated with a blue light hovering above her head. She draws back the covers and holds her hand out to the man. She pointedly avoids looking at his groin, which betrays his thoughts.

He sighs before taking her hand and standing, returning to his own bed in silence.

Hmm... maybe I will, maybe I will...

All the armor was off, and the look on Sanguine’s face was pure sex. Alteria was biting her lip and pure carnal desire was rushing through her. She sat up to try and remove Sanguine’s armor, wanting to feast her eyes upon the glorious physique of the Daedric Lord, but Sanguine would have none of it. He pushed her back onto the bed and began to run his hand along her body with feather-light touches that made her skin prickle in the best way. He started from the jaw and inched his hand along down her neck. From the neck he made it to her collarbone and when his hand had made it to its destination-her breast- he smiled. He rolled his thumb over the peak of her breast and watched her writhe and shiver simultaneously. Sanguine smiled darkly as he replaced his hand with his mouth and then worked on removing his gauntlets while swirling his tongue back and forth across the hardened surface of her nipple.

Alteria was quickly learning how this man came to be the lord of all things hedonistic. Sanguine was relentless in his ministrations and had not stopped touching her since they had begun. Her body felt like it was running an intense fever and her head was swimming with thoughts of what she would do to him the moment she was allowed to take charge. Right at that moment there was a knock on the door.

Sanguine growled impatiently and turned his head to look at the door. “Who is it?” He barked at the invisible intruder.

“My apologies your lordship but Lord Sheogorath would like to know if you would attend—“

“For the love of Azura, tell him that I’ll attend all the tea parties he can stand if he’ll just give me two or three hours without any interruptions. Now go. Can’t you see I’m bus—agh!”

Sanguine, in a rare moment of unexpectedness, was speechless. Speechless, and on his back, entirely naked, with a similarly dressed woman on top of him. That little sneak had managed to remove all his armor without him noticing and take him by surprise. Well, this would be much more fun than he was expecting.

She wasted no time, either. From the moment that she had gained the advantage, Alteria had set to work. Her job seemed to be making Sanguine make as many different pleasured noises as she could manage. She kissed him on the lips roughly, her mouth dominating his in a way that Sanguine rarely got to experience from mortals. She started to kiss down his neck and roughly nipped at the base of it with her teeth. Each time Sanguine moaned or murmured his approval, Alteria glowed with pride and her actions became increasingly bolder. One moment she was biting his neck, but the next her hand was wrapped around his cock. She pumped her nimble little fingers up and down, squeezing just enough to make his mind turn to jelly for a few seconds.

Sanguine didn’t realize just how talented Alteria was until a few minutes later, though. He was staring at the ceiling, zoned out and thinking of nothing but the way her hand felt upon him. Suddenly the hand was gone and Sanguine did not even have time to lament its removal. A few seconds later, Alteria’s mouth was on him. Her tongue was moving in patterns and her head was bobbing up and down on his erection. Her hand dipped down to cup his balls and Sanguine was in heaven. This woman had a talent for the sexual arts that he had never seen from anyone save himself. He felt his release close at hand and in no time at all he came in her mouth.

Alteria swallowed his seed quickly and looked up at him, a frown of disappointment on her lips. “Was that all?”

Arghhhh! I need a cookie! :3

if you do, biscuits and sweets for you! ^ ^

I'm so glad to hear this. Way too good a story to leave unfinished!

10

It was odd, the feeling of your head wanting to explode as his brain pounded inside like a drum. He opened his eyes with slow flutter of eyelashes, and when all he saw was blackness, Vilkas immediately sat up and rubbed at them furiously.

“Stop that!” Someone shouted from somewhere far, but clearly in the same room. “If you wish to truly lose your sight, by all means continue.” And Vilkas’ pounding brain immediately recognized the accent.

With a scowl, the Companion touched around and noticed he was currently sitting on a bed. “What did you do to me?” There was no hostility in his tone, but he wasn’t going to go around letting the annoying redhead think he’s okay with being blinded and in the same room as him.

Scoffing, the thief moved around and when he spoke, Vilkas knew he had moved closer. “I didn’t need to do anything, you did this to yourself all on your own.” He felt fingers grab at a bandage on his neck and instantly flinched back, but then relaxed when nothing else happened. “You ran into poisoned spikes. The blindness itself will fade in a couple of hours, but your body will remain weak until the poison runs out of your system.”

Vilkas didn’t say anything and let the thief work on his bandages around his neck. Then his fingers moved to bandages on his shoulder as well. The time passed with both not uttering a single word until the raven-haired man couldn’t keep his curiosity down.

“How come you’re tending to my wounds. I would think you’d want me to drop dead more than anything.”

The fingers working on his shoulder paused for a brief moment before continuing, then the redhead chuckled softly by his ear. “You are correct, lad. But as much as I would find it satisfying for you to drop dead, Thales would kill me right after knowing I let it happen. I don’t know about you,” the thief patted his injured shoulder, making him wince, “but I would not want to be the target of her ferocious temper.”

Vilkas felt weak, his body ached, and at this point he honestly didn’t care about anything, so instead of scowling as he usually does, he laughed at the words of the other man.

“I’m also surprised you can laugh.” The redhead laughed at his own joke and Vilkas smiled without knowing whether the thief was looking at him or not.

“I’m one of the best warriors the Companions have right now, yet I was so—” desperate to find Thales, he though, “sick of this place, I didn’t see the ball of spikes in front of me.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately for me you’re stuck here until your vision is back. You think I’m joking when I say Thales would kill me if anything happens to you here.” Vilkas laughed at his comment, and shook his head gently, trying not to aggravate his headache.

“Aye, I don’t disagree with you at all. That woman is a little crazy.”

"Crazy is a big understatement." They fell into more comfortable silence, neither knowing what to say without insulting each other.

Once the other man was done with the bandages, he offered a drink or food, but Vilkas declined due to a weird ache in his stomach. He’s never been poisoned before in his life, at least not this way. He’s fought frostbites, and the poison on those is hurtful, but not this dangerous.

“You know, I’m surprised you were able to find us. Not many outsiders know how to get here.” The voice sounded further away, but still in the same room, like when he first woke up.

“Wasn’t so difficult,” Vilkas lied, “besides, I’m in a hurry. I need to speak with Thales as soon as possible.”

“Well, like I said lad, she’s not here. And I can’t tell you where she, at least not unless she allows me to. And if I remember correctly, you made it clear she was not to see you again.”

The Companion didn’t respond, fighting with himself internally whether he should tell the thief the real reason behind his quest to find Thales.

“That’s none of your concern—”

“I beg to differ. Anything regarding my Guild Master is very much my concern.”

“Guild Master?” The confusion was apparent in his tone. He knows Thales has been keeping plenty of secrets from him, he can feel it. “Since when is she your Guild Master?”

Vilkas could hear soft shuffling of feet, almost as if the thief were pacing and wondering whether he should answer the question or not. It made his stomach sink with worry. The reason Thales didn’t accept the position as Harbinger had been these people, the redhead specifically. And as much as he was blinded by fury from her rejection, it was planting in him a seed of sadness to know she had been more involved in the thievery than she let on.

“Months.”

The urge to scream at him surged from within, but it went away as fast as it came. He wants to ask why would they let a nineteen year old lead an organization, what kind of dangerous things has she been through to manage it, but he can’t. And he won’t under the pretense of not being a hypocrite.

This man was being more honest with him than Thales herself has been for the whole time they’ve known each other.

Inside Vilkas' hazy thoughts, there didn't seem to be another option other than to be just as honest with the man.

~

This is a short chapter, but incredibly meaningful to the plot lines of Thales' relationship with Vilkas. :) Sorry for the long wait! Next time I'll have for you guys a picture of Thales so y'all can see her for the first time! AND Next chapter is the awaited meeting between Thales and Ulfric. See you then! :)

A snow storm just hit where I live near the foot of the Rockies so have nothing to do but write which is a terrible, terrible thing. Also playing the iTunes game. How do normal people name fics? It's the hardest thing to do in the history of the world.

Characters: F!PC, Jarl Siddgeir
Genre: Dark Humor
Relationships: Hetero
Warnings: Emotional and Verbal Abuse. And some physical... fml.
Summary: A stall tactic used against the Thane of Falkreath lands her being reminded of her place and servitude.

Tags: char:F!PC, char:siddgeir, relationship:het

Notes: Wow. Okay. Didn't mean for it to get this long or complicated and full of shit. Ugggh. I hope you like it regardless OP and like... just skip to Part Six for DUELING TONGUES AND OTHER CLICHES i tried desperately not to do its so hard fuck me. Please forgive me.

Also no one can not convince me that some Jarls in Skyrim don't have their stewards or a maiden undress them at night. No one sleeps fully fucking clothed and not under their covers unless drunk and passed out... in which case, Skyrim will be a lot more interesting.

She opened the door again, peering out into the dark street at the now steady flurry of snowflakes that were coming down, illuminated by the nearby lantern and guard’s torches. It was the third day in a row there was a snowstorm in the small town of Falkreath and with that snow came a gloomy fog that covered the area in the morning and lasted until the sun went down again. It was if Arkay was mocking them; even more so since it was supposed to be spring. All the other holds were starting to sow seeds and plan festivals and Falkreath remained trapped in an endless season of misery.

She closed the door and went back to the fire, placing a log on it. From the throne, her Jarl stirred, drinking a bit of mead from the bottle he had balancing on his armrest, the book he had in his hand still being read. Or appeared to be being read as sometimes he pretended just to get his steward, Nenya, away from him. Kjersti found herself hesitating. If she did not leave back to her abode near the lake, she feared she might not make it back at all.

She went forward to her Jarl, her heart pounding a bit as she came near and she stood for a minute to stare at him. Her eyes travelled over his chest and to his green eyes, highlighted by his black furs and newly purchased blue robes which he had taken from her purse. As much as it had pained her at the time, he did look handsome.

“Something you want, Thane?” he said irritated and she found herself stiffening. He wasn’t looking at her but he still knew she was gawking at him. She sighed internally.

“It’s getting late.”

“Thank you for the update,” he drawled and he furrowed his brows as he flipped a page of the book. He wasn’t reading it.

“My Jarl, please. Do you really, really need me for anything else?” she pleaded, stressing her desire to leave. She could see him become agitated, his shoulders flexing as he turned the page of his book and she found herself bowing before him. “My Jarl-!”

“I don’t like your tone, Kjersti,” he spat and she sighed, hanging her head down a bit. He moved and she once again found herself being used as a foot stool, his heels digging into her shoulder blades which made her wince.

Thankfully Nenya came down the stairs from her room after he did. “Siddgeir? Siddgeir! Honestly, get your feet off her!”

He barely moved, his eyes going up from his book to glare at his steward before they went back. Kjersti felt herself smile a bit but his heel twisting in her back made her stop. He finally removed his feet and she let out a sigh of relief, not moving from her bowed position. Nenya came up beside her and stood over the Jarl, glaring at him. He pretended to take no notice.

“Siddgeir.”

“Jarl Siddgeir,” he corrected her and she grit her teeth.

“It’s late. Let her go home.”

He said nothing, flipping through the book rather rapidly before he shut it and sat up a bit, his eyes meeting Nenya’s. Kjersti said nothing as she watched silently from her position.

“No,” he finally said and Nenya crossed her arms, not standing down. He stood up, almost meeting her height from his position before he shoved past her. “Kjersti, get in here.”

She stared at him before her cheeks went red. “W-Why?”

“Because I told you to!” he nearly shouted making her stumble to get up as quick as she could. His eyes looked past her to Nenya who was still giving him a look of disapproval. “You will disrobe me tonight. Nenya…” he sneered at her. “You’re dismissed for now.”

She let out a long breath of irritation from behind her but she obeyed, moving back to go to her room. Kjersti watched her before a slap to her shoulder made her focus back on her Jarl, following him into his room. He shut the door behind her and rubbed his neck, sighing in irritation.

“You’re supposed to make my life easier, Thane,” he growled. “Not piss me off.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” he muttered and slowly he took off his crown, running a hand through his hair as he did. She watched him silent, her ears starting to flush for a reason she couldn’t pinpoint. He tossed the circlet on his bed and moved to sit beside it, still rubbing his neck as he did. One snap of his fingers and she was before him, pulling off his boots. “I want a new crown, Thane.”

She frowned and thought of what she currently had locked in a chest at her home, her thoughts of leaving becoming temporarily pushed to the back of her mind. “What kind would you like, my Jarl?”

“Something with emeralds,” he muttered. “Or something expensive.”

She placed his boots against the side of his bed and moved to fetch his evening robes, searching through his wardrobe for a moment before she found them. She had only done this a handful of times before – mostly when he and Nenya were locked in some sort of fight but she recalled most of what she needed to do. She returned to his side, handing them to him and he brushed her away. She turned around as he began to undress.

“I may have a Silver and Sapphire circlet,” she said, listening to him unhook the chain that held the furs to his shoulders. “Or, if you wish to have something to match the season, I have a Jade and Emerald one.”

“What seasons,” he said bitterly from behind her and she pursed her lips. They remained silent, with him removing his clothes and she waited patiently, counting the studs on his wardrobe. She was hit from the back with a heavy garment and she turned to see him kick his pants off, stretching as he did. She flushed, seeing his muscles flex from under the thin fabric of his evening wear and she began folding up what she had been given, trying to put it out of her mind.

He pulled off his ring and dropped it next to his crown, watching her. “Don’t wrinkle it.”

“Sorry, my Jarl.”

“Those are my clothes, not yours,” he continued. “Treat them with respect.”

“I-I will, my Jarl.”

“And hurry up!”

She felt a bit of stress well up in her stomach and she tried moving a bit more quickly, storing his robes and grabbing his trousers to go with them. She shut the door to his wardrobe one last time and took his crown and ring from beside him, placing it underneath the wolf head he had mounted in his room. Once she was done, she poured him a drink of the water she had been made to fetch that morning. She had to take an axe to the ice but after some time she had managed to make a hole.

He took it but gave her a disappointed look. “Learn to be faster.”

She sighed.

Once he was done he handed her the empty goblet, still watching her as she returned it to the dresser table finding a cloth to wipe it clean. When she came back to him, hopeful he would let her leave he merely scowled.

She didn’t want to ask but she had no choice. “Is there anything else you want, my Jarl?”

His fingers drummed against the bed in displeasure, his eyes narrowing and she found her knees buckling, bowing before him and repeating herself with her head hung down submissively. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my Jarl?”

“That’s better,” he muttered and he reached down, lifting up her chin. She stared at him blankly before she found her cheeks burning hot again. She started praying to the divines he wasn’t going to ask what she thought he was going to – everyone was still in the Longhouse. The door was closed but if they heard it would be the end of her.

He merely studied her, saying nothing and he tilted her head to the side making her frown. “M-My Jarl?”

He said nothing but let go of her and she found herself reaching up to touch her jaw, feeling where his warm fingers had been.

“Get me another drink,” he muttered and she pushed herself up off the stones to grab the jug, pouring him some water suddenly becoming aware of how parched she was. She brought it back to him and he took it but didn’t drink. He glared at her and she returned his look with one of confusion. His snapping fingers made her realize and she got down on her knees before him once more.

He took a sip, watching her as he did. “You’re lack of obedience tonight is pissing me off, I hope you know,” he remarked and she pressed her lips together for a moment.

“Please, my Jarl, forgive me.”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” his foot his her knee and she looked up to him. He pointed to his neck. “Just do what I tell you, Thane. I didn’t generously give you a piece of land so you could insult me.”

“I don’t mean to insult you, my Lord,” she said in a soft voice. “I am grateful for what you have given me.”

“Then do as I say and do not try and give me orders like you’re above me!” he snapped. She hung her head down more, trying to make him understand she was at his service and he kicked her again. “Get up and massage me!”

She rose from her place as he shifted on the bed and her hands met his shoulders, rubbing them to try and relieve the tense muscles underneath. He let out a growl as she worked him as if she was a mechanical dwarven construct, her movements rusty and harsh and she finally stopped to let out a breath and try and relax.

“Please, Siddgeir. Forgive me. I don’t mean you any disrespect.”

His shoulders relaxed a little making it easier for her to rub them. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered and he took a drink, the bit of uncomfortable tension that was between them softening a bit. She tried again, rubbing his muscles with more care and she found herself pressing her thumbs against what felt like a knot under his skin, soothing it until he relaxed completely against her.

She found herself staring at the back of his neck at the ends of his hair where they met and her fingers moved up, gently rubbing. She had to shift on the bed to get up on her knees so she could tower over him a bit from behind, casting a bit of a shadow but it allowed her to have more control in massaging him.

Her fingertips rubbed behind his ear and he let out a sigh, leaning against her. She found herself smiling, gently scratching his skin as if he were a puppy before rubbing the sides of his neck. He turned his head to the right, the muscles tense and she took a moment to crack his head much to his relief. She did it to the other side before going back to rubbing behind his ears. He slumped against her, almost purring and she rubbed tiny circles into his skin until he flexed his shoulders making her move back to them.

“Do you feel better, my Jarl?”

He reached up and rubbed where she had cracked and took another drink from his almost empty goblet. She continued rubbing his shoulders, pressing between the blades and he arched a bit.

“Lower.”

She obeyed. They were quiet once again, the lit candles around the room flickering a bit when the sounds of the wind howling outside seemed to shake the Longhouse and Kjersti pressed her tongue against her cheek, trying hard to focus on her Jarl instead of the worry building up in her mind.

It was if he sensed what she was thinking. “Why are you in such a damn hurry to get home?” he asked quietly and she internally sighed.

“I just wanted to be back there before the snow builds up too much and makes the trek impossible,” she told him and he seemed irritated by her response.

“So what? I would expect you back here tomorrow morning regardless.”

“Y-Yes but… my Jarl,” she stuttered. “I cannot stay here in the Longhouse. There is no place for me. And you forbid me to use the Inn because of…” He only took another drink, his body tensing and she shifted uncomfortably, slowly rubbing near the back of his ribs. “I mean, I cannot kick one of the court out of their beds just so I could sleep here.”

“I have a floor you can easily make a bed on,” he muttered at her and she felt herself grow a bit hot.

She was about to protest but something came out instead. Something she knew she would regret. “Are you trying to make me stay with you, my Jarl?”

He lowered the goblet from his lips and she found herself covering her mouth, internally spitting curses at herself. She tried to recover. "I-I mean, it’s flattering to know you enjoy my company but-”

“Oh shut up,” he said in a quiet voice and she did as he commanded; he took another drink. She stared at the back of his head, at his pale skin and toned physique and she gingerly touched him again, her fingertips ghosting over his back and he reached behind and grabbed her wrist. She stopped, feeling her heart start beating within her chest and she watched as he turned himself, his emerald eyes locking on her as he finished off last of the water in his cup. He leaned down, placing the goblet on the floor but he did not let go of her.

She found herself pressing her lips together, unsure of his motives. He gave her a once over, his eyes moving up and down her and she had to look away uncomfortably. She suddenly became aware of all her flaws and her free hand moved to try and cover her stomach, shifting between it and her chest. He dug his nails into her wrist and she stopped fidgeting, wincing instead.

“M-My Jarl…”

“I told you to shut up,” he snapped and she once again closed her mouth, her cheeks becoming hot. He began pulling her making her break from her kneeling position to stumble forward awkwardly on the bed and he grabbed her other wrist, hauling her against him making her become like a stone statue, her heart pounding in her throat. She could feel him against her, her robes as thin as his own and she began frantically looking about the room trying not to think about it. He grabbed her cheek, twisting her so she was forced to look at him and she felt herself shrink under his gaze.

His eyes were dark and the shadows in the room didn’t help make it better. She couldn’t read his face or what his intentions were and she found herself being pushed off the bed to a kneeling position before him, her heart still hammering in her throat. His fingers moved over her cheek, digging into her jaw and she winced, her breath tightening.

“You really piss me off,” he commented and she bit her lip. “You damn elf…”

She said nothing but her hands fidgeted against her lap. His thumb moved over her lips, pressing hard against them and she found herself opening her mouth letting it slip in. He pulled, revealing her teeth, moving up to press against her gums and she whimpered before it withdrew. He stroked her lips and she found herself confused. She was either going to get slapped and lectured or worse; she could never gauge with him as his emotion seemed to vary with his mood.

Right now she was sure he was angry as he said but the way he was holding her made her heart race and her mind fuzzy. She had to ask. “My Jarl… S-Siddgeir,” she breathed out as his other hand came to cup her right cheek, holding her head steady. “S-Siddgeir-!”

He leaned down, his lips almost against hers and she could feel his breath against her. Honey and hops filled her head and she closed her eyes, the taste of black-briar mead being recalled in her mind. He merely uttered a sentence against her. “Shut up.”

Her breath shook as it came out in response and before she could think properly, her mouth was assaulted; he possessively kissed her, his fingers digging into her skin and she arched on the floor, raising herself up on her knees to try and ease the pain. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip, tongue forcing its way in and she gripped at his arms to steady herself, whimpering. He tasted of honey. The thought alone made her legs press together.

Her throat felt incredibly dry and her mind was beginning to become muddled with the different sensations hitting her. His left hand moved to gripping the back of her head, his right tilting her jaw up, gripping her throat as he did and she shook as he harshly nipped at her lips, dominating her. He kissed her, deeply, then withdrew. “Stick out your tongue.”

She licked her lips first before she did, her hands shaking as they tried to get a better grip but she obeyed, her tongue offered to him. His met hers making her shiver and he pushed into her mouth once again. She had never been kissed like this, made to feel so submissive against someone else and she let herself go slack allowing him to pull at her tongue with his teeth, bite the side of her mouth and withdraw to push two fingers in, rubbing to make her suck them. She wanted water so bad, her mind now a haze with the taste of honey and his skin and he moved to kissing her ear.

She jerked, a shock running through her and his grip on the back of her head tightened, twisting her black hair and she was forced to calm herself. He moved back, lips running over her flesh until he was near her mouth and he pulled away his wet fingers, staring at her from above. She gasped for air. “S… Sidd…”

He pressed against her again, silencing her. “I told you to shut up before. Do not make me say it again,” his voice rumbled against her and she silenced herself, her fingers clutching his forearms, squeezing them for a brief second before relaxing. He pulled away, still hovering above her and she panted for him; she would have been ashamed at herself if it wasn’t him above her. He only stared down at her and she licked her lips desperately again. She found herself moving up, trying to kiss him but he wouldn’t let her. She let out a whine and his other hand snaked back to her neck, squeezing for a brief moment making her stiffen.

His kissed her jaw, soft and almost gentle but the fingers pressing into her throat were the opposite. They dragged down, ignoring her gasps and settled on her collarbone. He slipped two fingers against the neck of her robe and pulled, his eyes moving down to look. She flushed and shut her own in embarrassment. She was aware of how flat she was and her ears began to burn, her knees shaking as she felt him eye her and she waited for his disapproval but it never came. He let go of the collar of her robe, the fabric falling back into place and he went back to cupping her head, lips once more touching hers, his breath against them making her purse her own.

“Sit up.”

She opened her eyes and focused on him as she did as he said, raising herself back up and he seemed pleased with her obedience. She was rewarded with a gentle kiss, one a lover would give to their person of affection and she melted into it; for a brief moment she even pretended as if the scenario was true but it ended as quickly as it began and she was left shaking under his grip. He licked his lips.

“What do you want, Thane?” he said from above and she licked her own lips, how dry they felt despite them being sore and swollen.

“Water,” she whispered and he seemed taken aback by her answer. He scowled and she regretted it, gritting her teeth as she chastised herself. “So… I can keep up… with you.”

He let go of her making her feel somewhat cold and he nodded at the jug of water. “Go get it then,” he commanded and he reached down, grabbing the goblet which she took with an uneven grip. Her legs shook as she stood, the pain of them being pressed against stone coursing through them and she spilled some of the water as she poured, his emotions taking over her sense of reason and balance and she returned back to him.

Before she could take a drink he grabbed the goblet and did himself. She stared at him, desperate. He didn’t look at her but she could see an amused grin on his lips making her inwardly groan. She would have protested but every time she did that night it seemed to make the situation worse for her. He finished, holding up an empty goblet and she took it, his nails digging into the silver sides.

He reached out and grabbed her around the waist, forcing her to fall into him which made her yelp and drop the cup to the floor. She was forced on his lap, her hands gripping his shoulder as she towered over him a bit and he grabbed the back of her head once more, pulling her hair making her cringe. He brought her head down, his mouth on hers again and she felt water being pushed into her mouth making her whine.

This was bad. This was her Jarl.

He flipped them, mouth still on hers as he did and she was slammed into the straw of the bed, his free hand covering her eyes as he continued to dominate her making her grab as his body letting out a horrid moan. This was bad. This was a bad situation. She felt as if she was drowning, choking on the water and the lack of air she was receiving. He pulled away and she gasped for him, unable to see his mouth but seeking it.

His breath was hot against her and he shoved her legs apart with his own, pressing against her which made her entire body shiver. Her hands found his neck and she clung to him, desperately kissing him, begging him not to stop. He pulled her head back, her neck being exposed and he sunk his teeth into the side making her howl.

“S-Siddgeir!”

“Shut up!”

She moaned, the sound being torn from her throat and he was on her again, his tongue against her making her push back and taste him, the honey and hops and scent of the pine forest from his hunt that morning. She was being overwhelmed and in the back of her mind she recalled how foolish she had been as a teenager, her thoughts of her first kisses and encounters with a man like the fairy tales she read. She was being dominated, controlled by her Jarl and he only seemed interested in making her aware that she was a possession of his; his alone to do as he pleased with.

She hated how much more that made her cling to him, her hips rolling against him in desperation for something. She was aching and her breath was coming out in hot pants and his hand finally left from covering her eyes, moving to grip at her side and pull her flush against him. Saliva was starting to drip from her mouth, her eyes glazing over as she now kissed him back with equal wish of possession, tongue meeting his first before he could react and her nails tearing his skin. The blankets under them shifted and he let out low growls in response to her panting, high moans.

He forced her legs around his waist and her toes curled in her boots as she did, pulsing against him as they kept up their desperate kisses, each on becoming messier than the last. Her hair was being tangled by his hands, her nails dragging up and down his arms and back and they briefly spared against each other with him trying to press her to the bed while she only wanted to be curled up against him as close as she could. He eventually won and she was pinned down, helpless against him.

He lost the fight between their mouths though and she finally was allowed to show her affection for him, moaning low as she tasted the inside of his mouth. She sucked the bottom of his lip, pulling with her teeth before releasing to soothe it and his hands moved down, gripping her hips making her breathe against him.

“Siddgeir,” she said his name against him, his fingers tangling into his black hair, scratching and lightly tugging the strands which made him hiss. “Please…”

“What,” he practically spat out, her mouth covering his not allowing him to speak for a second. “You stupid elf.”

She kissed him again and again, feeling the sweat on his neck, his skin flushed and as hot as hers and his fingertips massaging where they held her hips. She prayed to the eight divines to not let this end, her senses and mind only on him. “Siddgeir, please…”

He moved to kiss her but he seemed too distracted to do so, his mouth only lingering over hers for a second before he pulled away. She tried pulling him back, panting, her body yearning to him and he hit her temple making her let go with a whine. He grabbed her, pulling her off the bed and for a moment she was in his arms, feeling his heart beating, his breath against her ear and she moaned. She didn’t know what he was going to do, the prospect making her throb between her legs, her chest rise and fall rapidly and her sweat seem to bead on every surface of her skin.

…And he dropped her on the floor. She let out a high cry as he did, grabbing her back as pain shot through it and he stood above her, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re done here,” he said in a harsh voice. “Go home.”

She stared. “S-Siddgeir! Siddgeir, wait, what did I-?”

He glared at her making her become quiet. “I’m not sharing my bed with you. And I’m tired. So go home,” he waved at her making her gape at him. “You’ve done your job for today. I expect you back here tomorrow.”

“You,” her voice shook with frustrated desire. “You can’t be serious.”

“Pick up that goblet,” he said as he grabbed his blankets, pulling them so he could get under them. “And douse the candles as you leave.”

“S-Siddgeir!”

“Get out, Kjersti.”

She couldn’t believe it. She stared at him, her body shaking, her body throbbing and she felt something well up inside her. She stood on shaky legs, stumbling to the side of his bed and she almost mounted him, wanting to sit on his chest and beg but he seemed to sense it despite his eyes closed.

“Touch me and I’ll have your neck broken.”

She let out a loud, angry noise of frustration and she grabbed the goblet off the floor, slamming it on the table as she moved to douse the candles. Her hands shook as she did and before she shut out the last one she glared at her Jarl, his body barely visible from under his covers.

“Siddgeir… You…”

“If I have to tell you to shut up again, Thane,” his voice came from the dark. “Then I will have you locked in the barracks and beaten until your flesh is on the floor.” She shook but closed her mouth, her anger concentrated on him but she directed it to the candle, snuffing it out before going to the door.

“Kjersti.”

She stopped.

“Don’t wear anything under your robes next time.”

Her entire body seemed to turn pink and her anger turned to flustered embarrassment, her hands moving to cover her chest. She fled from his room, shutting his door with a sharp clack and she stood in the Longhouse, trying to figure out what had just happened. Her ears burned and her mind worked to supress it despite how her nerves kept sending mixed signals throughout her body. She wasn’t sure if she loved or hated that man; leaving her in such a state was infuriating but what he did to her…

She groaned and moved to leave the Longhouse, opening the door to find the street covered in more snow than before. The cold air was welcome on her burning skin, her mouth and jaw starting to become sore and her back hurting from the drop. She started to trudge through the snow, the cold seeping through right to her boots and she stopped at the gates of Falkreath, staring into the darkness that awaited. She heard a coughing behind her and turned to see a guard struggle to make it to his post.

He gave her a look, shuddering under his thin fur and she pursed her lips as she looked out at her path. “Are you heading home, Thane?”

“Yes,” she said as the wind howled within the trees making them shake and knock against the buildings behind her.

“Well you be careful,” he said in a kind voice. “You know the Jarl would be devastated if something were to get you.”

She turned to stare at him, her cheeks already too hot and red to become any more flushed but she found herself smiling. “I…” she began to protest, wanting to tell him he was wrong or scoff and laugh but somehow it comforted her. She closed her eyes, pulling out a spell from the dark recesses of her mind and she snapped her fingers, a light illuminating from her hands and moving up to above her head making the ground around her glow.

“Thank you.”

He only nodded and watched her leave, the small candle light shining a path through the blinding snow.

--

ffffffffforgive me

All right, I've written the beginning and end and I have enough of the middle outlined to start posting. I couldn't get a beta so I apologize for any glaring problems.

Let me see if I can do this tagging thing properly...

Spoilers: Dark Brotherhood main quest, Thieves' Guild main quest, Thieves' Guild side quest

Tags:
char:F!Dunmer!DB, char:Ravyn Imyan, relationship:het, kink:hate_sex, kink:knife_play, kink:rough_sex, kink:wrestling, kink:bondage, kink:death_threats

---

Nalasa Andryn knew she was good - special, even. She'd never imagined herself ordinary, of course, even before coming to Skyrim. Now? Well, there was only one Dragonborn, and the Night Mother didn't talk to just anyone. There were limits to credibility, however, and the Thieves' Guild was rapidly approaching them. Ever since Brynjolf brought her in as his new "protégé," everyone seemed to fawn over her. It was the Dragonborn Effect, she supposed; everyone she met seemed to think being able to Shout meant she should be showered with praise every time she took a shit.

The Thieves' Guild was no exception. They all loved her. Credited her with the restoration of the Guild - as if any five people could do what they thought she had done! She completed a few jobs halfway competently, and they figured they owed her everything. Brynjolf had started slipping into a ridiculous grin every time he saw her. He'd called her his "golden girl" until she told him it was racist to say to a Dunmer.

Bryn's behavior might be explained by his obvious crush on her, but he was far from the only one who treated her like some sort of royalty. Sapphire never let her pass without a friendly greeting, even when the volatile Nord was in one of her moods and more than a bit drunk. The new recruits were even worse - they would stare at her with frank admiration when they thought she was distracted. Even Vex, who had initially been short with Nalasa, thawed when she realized "Bryn's girl" wasn't a complete fuck-up.

It galled her that the one man with nothing friendly to say to her was her fellow Dunmer. Ravyn Imayn was only a recruit, but from the very beginning he acted as if he thought her beneath his notice. "You're no Grey Fox," he said when they met,and that was that. From then on, he never had time to be so much as civil to her.

Ravyn's attitude irritated Nalasa endlessly. As time went on, she found herself trying harder and harder to get a rise out of him. It didn't help that despite his permanent superior scowl, he was insanely attractive.

When she realized how much flirtation annoyed him, Nalasa began a dedicated campaign of come-ons. "Do you shoot that straight under the covers?" she asked sweetly, watching his archery practice. "I could use a few tips on how to handle a weapon like yours," she murmured as he sharpened his dagger. "Yes, growl at me again! It sounds so sexy." Once, she overheard Bryn in the practice room asking Ravyn if she needed to be told to lay off the harassment. "I can handle the bitch myself," Ravyn snapped, and only respect for Bryn kept her from popping her head in to say "Oh, Ravyn! Handle me!"

... ... passerby anon found that something of the most delicious I have ever read. Seriously. WOW. FLIPPIN' well done!!

True to his word, Ravyn began his own campaign of humiliation. His first attempt involved a series of notes left in public places. "Since your libido is out of control, I recommend you to a fine gentleman of my acquaintance. He lives in Black-Briar Lodge and goes by the name of Frost." "I understand that you like men who growl. I know just where you can find satisfaction. Travel to the south of Mistwatch and you will find a wolf den there." Unfortunately for Ravyn, Nalasa found the notes hilarious. She began reading them aloud in the Flagon, which pretty well put an end to that form of retribution.

Ravyn took his defeat hard. Nalasa learned from Vex that he had volunteered for an assignment in Markarth just to get away from her for a few days. She actually felt a bit of remorse at that. She hadn't meant to drive him away from the Guild.

Her remorse lasted until, minutes after leaving the Cistern, she was arrested for defacing the Temple of Mara. She was in no mood to appreciate the artistry of the large charcoal drawings to which her name had been signed. The one titled "Sermon 17: Vivec and the Horse" was in particularly poor taste.

She paid her bounty and endured the lewd remarks of the guards as she helped scrub the charcoal away, then retired to Honeyside to plot revenge and wonder about the drawing that had been cleaned up before she arrived - all except the title, "Sermon 21: Sheogorath Grants the Mudcrab a Wife."

I can only think of forgiveness if I see more of this, of this I'm sure

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