#farkas x reader

[wickeddragonworld]

My hubby ❤️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59210341/chapters/165905110#workskin

Sunrise creeps in through the windows of Breezehome, coloring the room with gold hues. The fire within the hearth is now reduced only to red and sparkling embers and last night’s heat hangs heavy in the air.

Amalia wakes first, her body loose under the thick fur duvet. Beside her, Farkas is still fast asleep; his face a picture of total peace, his hair glinting gold in the half-light that swamps the room. A mighty arm hangs loosely around her, to hold her against himself even while sleeping.

Amalia doesn’t hurry and moves only slightly, letting her fingers draw lazy circles on Farkas’ warm skin, along the scars – testimony to an indomitable warrior. He mumbles in his sleep, squeezing her tighter against his chest, husky voice still laced with sleep.

“Mmmh… don’t go away.”

It’s more a drowsy roar than a request, and Amalia smiles, basking in the luxury of a morning unfilled with battles or missions.

She kissed the stubbly jaw of Farkas lightly, feeling him start and then stretch under her, his bulky warm frame wrapping around her in a pleasant, lazy daze. "Morning, my wolf." His eyes lazily crept open, mere slits of glowing silver lakes meeting hers with tenderness and hunger. Without a word, he drags her over himself, then runs a hand down the dip of her bare lower back.

“I love waking up like this,” he murmurs, his lips gliding down her naked skin, planting a line of unhurried kisses along her shoulder. “No yells, no drunken sidekicks… just you and me.”

Amalia chuckles slowly, twisting her fingers in his hair, tugging at them to bring him up and meet her eyes. “You always say that”, she teases him, “and then the instant you catch a whiff of food in town, you leave me in bed by myself.”

Farkas arches an eyebrow at that, a sly smirk courled one corner of his mouth. “Who said I have to go into town when I could have breakfast in bed?”

And before she said anything, he playfully tosses her over the mattress, showering her with kisses that mean the morning will be very, very long.

[goopysoup]

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..someone will ache for your soul..

In which you find your soulmate

featuring: farkas, vilkas, mercer frey, brynjolf, cicero, ancano, serana

[all are gender neutral, but there is a mention of being called ‘pretty’] [this took me almost three hours 💀 I don’t like most of them:(]

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farkas

He could smell them from a mile away.

That’s weird, let’s start again, shall we? Farkas swung his sword at the giant, fighting the urge to turn and run towards the sweet smell approaching. The beast inside him begged— pleaded— for him to go and engulf himself inside that smell, to cover himself in it, whatever it was.

That’s when he saw them. They aimed a bow, a steel arrow shooting through the air and into the giants eye, making it roar out before Aela ultimately got the last hit and killed the giant on the farm. Farkas couldn’t keep his eyes off them, the smell was coming from them. He watched as Aela spoke to them, not even registering what she was saying as he watched this person— the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Later, he’d seen them at Jorrvaskr, watching them enter and sneak downstairs. Were they joining?

“Farkas!” He’d heard Skjor’s voice shout from Aela’s room, “did you call me?” He asks as he smells that sweet smell again, his eyes locking on theirs. He barely heard what Aela was saying to him, “uh— new blood? Oh, hello. I’m Farkas. Come, follow me.”

He’d spoken to Kodlak later that night, asking him what in oblivion that sweet smell coming from them was and why was it just coming from them?

Kodlak laughs, forgetting that Farkas could be a bit dense at times, “she’s your mate,” he says as he pats him on the back a little harshly, “your soulmate, in other words.”

His soulmate..

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vilkas

He’d had their stupid name imprinted on his wrist since he was just a pup, a name he’d never heard of in all his years. Vilkas had begun to doubt that his soulmate even lived in Tamriel, in Skyrim, how unlucky was he? First, his lycanthropy, now his soulmate was nowhere to be seen? Nobody knew of someone with such a name?

It was a normal day as any, Vilkas sat at the small table with Kodlak, the two of them wondering if there truly would ever be a way for them to be rid of the beast. The beat haunted Kodlak, he knew that, the old man wanted to get into Sovngarde as any true nord would. But the beast prevented that, he would end up in Hircine’s land hunting for the rest of eternity.

It wasn’t long before an unfamiliar person walked into the halls of Jorrvaskr, heading down towards the two men. Their conversation was cut short, “I’d like to join the companions,” their voice was nice, I stark contrast to the armour and weapons they had on their body.

“Would you, now? Here, let me have a look at you? Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit.” Kodlak spoke, making Vilkas furrow his eyebrows.

“Master, you’re not truly considering accepting them?” He asks, making Kodlak give him a subtly pointed look, explaining they had empty beds for people with a fire in their hearts, “Apologies. But, perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider.”

The person sheepishly looks to Vilkas before they state their name. He freezes for a moment before he looks at them, Kodlak letting out a hearty laugh, making the person look at him with confusion.

“Vilkas, take them out to the yard and see what they can do.” Kodlak says before the person looks between Vilkas and Kodlak for a moment.

Oh gods..

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mercer frey

He’d known they were his soulmate from the moment he’d met them. Mercer saw the tattoo imprinted onto their forearm before they pulled their sleeve back down, he wasn’t stupid. But he’d never said anything, never gave them the hint he wanted them as much as they wanted him, not with the plans he had against the guild.

He’d let his guard down, it was so unlike him to bring any of his walls down but they made him. It was their fault, wasn’t it? He reaches over, his hand brushing against their cheek as they both stood outside in the backyard of his home, concealed under the stars, slone with no one watching them.

“I know,” they say suddenly, he furrows his eyebrows, “know what?” He asks in return, slipping his hand down to their neck, cradling it. He could choke them and end the misery of having him as their soulmate.

The grasp his wrist, carefully sliding down his sleeve to show the matching tattoo. His face hardens, pulling away as he covers the tattoo with his sleeve again, “it means nothing.”

He didn’t entirely mean those words, he yearned for them in secret, but he wouldn’t let his walls come down again. They didn’t need to get involved in his dirty work, he didn’t even want them in the guild anymore. It was to protect them.

“Leave, don’t come back, you understand?”

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brynjolf

The Dragonborn walks into Riften for the first time, almost laughing at how scared the guard outside had been when he realised they knew there was no tax. They make their was through the town, they liked the atmosphere even if they couldn’t see the colour of anything, it was better than dealing with the whole Alduin thing, anyways.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh?” Brynjolf’s voice sounds out quietly as he approaches the famous Dragonborn. Who didn’t know of them, being clad in such armour and that weapon? They didn’t hide it.

“I’m sorry, what?” They ask, looking up at the man before a myriad of colours struck their vision within seconds, overwhelming them. Their head ached at the sight before they finally got used to it and looked around, not noticing the look that Brynjolf was giving them, admiring.

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin, love, but you didn’t earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell,” Brynjolf says once their eyes move back to him, crossing his arms with an expression that matches flirtation.

“How could you possibly know that?” The Dragonborn asks, almost bewildered as they finally get a good look of him, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. It was almost.. irritating? No, that’s not the word, “wait— my wealth is none of your business.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, love. Wealth is my business. Maybe you’d like a taste?” They’d gone through with the plan, stealing what’s-his-face’s ring and planting it on the other who’s-his-name successfully.

“Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go.. your payment, as promised,” Brynjolf hands them the payment he’d promised his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to get them into the guild, to live a life with them— even if the life was illegal.

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cicero

Poor Cicero hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to the pretty assassin that had walked into the sanctuary the day he’d brought his dear mother. Sweet, sweet Night Mother. He was such a good Keeper, wasn’t he? Why wouldn’t she just speak to him! No, he must be calm, that’s what sweet mother would want, isn’t it?

He spoke to the Night Mother now, they were alone, sweet solitude with the sweet Night Mother, “Have you.. have you spoken to anyone? No.. no, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and the saying!” He continued for a while, rambling to the mother.

Suddenly, he opens her coffin, gasping with confusing and repulse. Here, the pretty assassin was in the coffin with the Night Mother!

“What? What treachery! Defiler! Debased and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother’s coffin! Explain yourself! Speak, worm!”

The pretty assassin’s eyes seemed to widen at his words, he couldn’t tell if it was because of his words or tone, but he didn’t care, “The Night Mother spoke to me! She said, ‘I am the one.’” Now, it was Cicero’s turn to widen his eyes. Those words! The words! His words! The ones on his arm, the ones his soulmate would say! His Listener!

Good luck with this one, dear Listener..

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ancano

Ancano had noticed them as soon as they’d walked through those gates. Another new apprentice, how bothersome. Still, he continued his conversation with Mirabelle, quickly growing more irritated by the treatment she was giving him.

The new apprentice was guided away by Mirabelle, leaving Ancano to his thoughts. It was odd, he felt drawn to them, though he didn’t know nor care why. He had business to attend to.

The apprentice was in the Hall of Elements with Tolfdir, the two of them watching the mysterious orb they’d found in Saarthal. Clearly, this mage was more troublesome than Ancano had thought. The Psijic Order was asking for them. So, Ancano had inturruped the two of them, gaining a temper tantrum from Tolfdir. It was only when they were alone that the elf had noticed a familiar scratch on the side of the apprentice’s neck- one that matched the one that had appeared on his not but a few hours before.

Gods be damned, this apprentice was his soulmate, “I need you to come with me immediately. Let’s go.”

For now, he wouldn’t say anything about it, this apprentice seemed to be too oblivious. Or, at least, that’s what they pretended to be with that stupid little smile on their lips.

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serana

Being trapped in a tomb for gods know how long wasn’t something Serana entirely enjoyed. I mean, who would? It was dark and cold, dreary and cramped, far too undeserving of even a vampire such as her. She just had to remember, she was doing this for her father and he would come back for her, right?

She hadn’t woken up until she was almost fallen on the floor, but her quick instincts helped her to keep balance. She was free, her father had come back..—

Glancing up, she noticed a person standing there watching with a small amused smile, obviously the one that had rescued her from the dreary space she was just in, obviously not a vampire. Obviously not her father. She was sure her father would’ve come to get his daughter, so who was this? Though, as their eyes met, a shockwave shot through her, the feeling of being alive again was strong, flooding her veins and undead heart. This was her soulmate, she’d waiting thousands of years for this, but why was she so reluctant now? Reluctant to go with them- to trust them, but a part deep inside her knew this was right, she could get used to it. She could get used to them.

“Who are you?” Serana asks, finally having gained her composure. She looks this person up and down, analysing anything and everything she can see. It was clear they were a vampire hunter. Great.

“Who were you expecting?” They ask, almost amused as they watch the pretty vampire, crossing their arms in a similar way Serana was.

“Not my soulmate, that’s for sure.”

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[artsyfangirl]

Ok, so, hear me out-

Farkas unknowingly acting more animalistic after gaining a crush on reader. He doesn’t realize it, it’s really subtle, but it’s kinda like both he and the wolf actually want the same thing for once? And as such, his behavior shifts. It’s like how people tend to shut down and retreat from conflict, it’s an ingrained, second-nature response that one doesn’t realize is happening.

And then the others tease the hell out of him for it. This idea has been floating around in my brain for HOURS.

[argisthebulwark]

Sleepover Time!

summary: modern au - texting him before your first night together <3 gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Miraak, Brynjolf, Farkas, Vilkas a/n: yes we're trying out smau (social media au) because it's all i've been consuming for the past month and it's rotting my brain <3 masterlist

[thegingermasquerader45]

Hiii! :) I hope you are still taking requests. If you are, would it be possible to make something with Farkas, where he and the Dragonborn are majorly pining over each other but both are just completely oblivious? From the prompt list, could we use 22, 35, and 84? Thanks and hope your day is great!

Sure!

#22 "The guy who wins your heart will be so lucky."

#35 "Your eyes are so beautiful in this light."

#84 "Oh, come on! You and I both know what he/she was doing."

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A Companion's Heart

Sometimes there is a beast more dangerous than the strongest werewolf or the fiercest dragon. That beast is called love.

Farkas x GN!Reader

The sun was setting over Whiterun, casting a golden glow over the city. You stood on the wall of Whiterun, the one closest to Jorrvaskr, gazing out at the horizon. The day's battles had been fierce, but the warmth of the setting sun brought a sense of peace. There had been a dragon attack again, and your body felt rough from not just the fighting but also absorbing its soul. It takes a physical and mental toll. Farkas approached quietly, his heavy footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor.

"You always find the best spots to watch the sunset," Farkas said, his voice deep and comforting.

You turned to face him, a smile playing on your lips. "It's a beautiful view. It helps me unwind after a long day."

Farkas nodded, his eyes lingering on your face. "Your eyes are so beautiful in this light," he said softly, almost as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. Turning away, you began to play with a loose strand of hair. "Thank you, Farkas. That's very kind of you."

You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the air between you two charged with unspoken feelings. Farkas shifted awkwardly, his usual confidence faltering.

"The guy who wins your heart will be so lucky," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You almost didn't hear him, but your battle-trained ears could hear even a mouse.

Your heart skipped a beat. You have always admired Farkas, not just for his strength and bravery, but for his loyalty and kindness. You have often found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to be with him, but you have never dared to hope that he might feel the same way.

He was so close to you. His hand lingering near yours. Your fingers twitched out of reflex, wanting to go to his hand, but you also felt frozen.

"Farkas, I..." you began, and it almost felt like he was going to grab your hand, but you both were interrupted by the sound of laughter from inside Jorrvaskr behind you.

Vilkas and Aela were talking to each other, their banter echoing through the hall. Soon they poked their heads out to see you guys. Aela chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, come on! You and I both know what he was doing," she said, referring to Farkas.

Curse their werewolf senses!

"Damn you!" Farkas growled at her, then turned to glare at his brother. Vilkas quickly disappeared with Aela following him, still laughing.

You laughed, the tension between them easing slightly. "They're always like that, aren't they?"

Although, you felt flustered by Aela's comment. Even she seemed aware of what Farkas was saying.

Farkas nodded, his eyes returning to yours. "Yeah, they are. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Even if Vilkas can't keep things to himself."

He muttered that last part, casting a quick glare to where his brother had vanished.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Farkas, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Farkas's expression grew serious, his full attention on you. "What is it?"

"I... I care about you. A lot. More than just as a friend," you admitted, heart pounding in your chest. The cool wind that blew around the plains of Whiterun did nothing to help the rising temperature in your cheeks.

Farkas's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he was speechless. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. "I care about you too, Y/N. More than I can put into words."

You felt a wave of relief and joy wash over them. "Really?"

Farkas nodded, stepping closer. "Really. I've been trying to find the right moment to tell you, but I guess I was too afraid."

You reached out, and with all the courage you wanted to have earlier, you took Farkas's hand in yours. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. We're in this together."

Farkas squeezed their hand, his eyes shining with emotion. "Together," he echoed.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, you and Farkas stood side by side, your hearts finally open to each other. The battles you both faced would be many, but you knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

Later that evening...

"Hey Vilkas?" Farkas stepped into his brother's room.

"What is it, brother?" Vilkas had his back to him as he set his sword down.

"Get to the Underforge." Farkas commanded with folded arms.

"Is there a problem?" His brother was suddenly on high alert and grabbed his sword again. Farkas just shook his head.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson about keeping secrets, and I don't need witnesses for all the pain you are going to receive."

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Farkas •°• Blooded △SMUT△

Title: Blooded

Ship: Farkas x f!reader, fellow companion 

Characters: Farkas, Reader

Rating: Mature, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: Skyrim

Wordcount: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can support me on Ko-fi.

Masterlist

[mischasbongwater]

farkas x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You falter. “Wh- seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

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

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

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

“Right.” You cannot stop looking at him.

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

“Huh? What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I answer it for you?”

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

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

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

You look at him, confused. “Wh-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[coffee-at-daybreak]

at your back | farkas x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. You didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even when-” you start to ask.

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

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

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

This time, you don’t protest.

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

[bwoobiez]

Dumb Dog [NSFW || Vilkas x GN!Masc!Reader]

— CONTENT: Masc-bodied reader but they're kept gn, pet play, size kink, dumbification elements, some monsterfucking and brief piss play

— AUTHORS NOTE: more submissive vilkas! i wanna see more submissive vilkas!

SUMMARY: To the rest of Whiterun and the Companions, Vilkas was a formidable warrior who was not only skilled in battle, but gifted in intelligence as well. But whenever he was getting demolished by you, you ripped that mask right off to reveal the big fuck-mutt underneath.

He used to see receiving anal as a threat to his masculinity, so he never had it until his first sexual encounter with you. He still had an insecurity towards being perceived as the “submissive” one in the relationship, so he put up his macho front again in public.

“Just be gentle, ok?” he stammered. His eyes flickered between your face and your cock, wondering how the hell you’d even fit it all. “Of course, love,” you cooed as you slathered some lubricant on your cock and then some on his asshole. One of the strongest fighters in the Companions - and in Whiterun - laid at the edge of the bed with a nervous expression you’ve never seen before. This oh so smart and ferocious warrior was about to take your cock up his ass, how sweet. “I’d never do anything to hurt you, just relax…”

Vilkas never had his mind so completely broken. You’ve fried all his brain cells and reduced him to a dog whose only purpose was to follow commands and cry during sex

Like every mutt, he loved being called a good boy. Besides the bedroom, you also said it during training sessions (when you two were alone) or after bringing down an enemy.

After clearing out a camp of bandits, you both turned towards each other with victorious grins on your faces. You reached over and placed your hands on the sides of his head, ruffling his hair as you would a dog, “Good boy! Goood boy! You are such a good guard dog!”  Vilkas looked utterly adorable. His pretty face was covered in blood, adorned with a beaming smile that revealed pieces of flesh between his teeth. He wore human remains so well! Just a second ago he was skillfully slaying enemies, and now here he was, soaking up commendation from his master. If he were in his wolf form, his tail would fall off from how fast it would be wagging.

Vilkas was tall and very muscular, but next to you, he was small. Just putting two fingers in his mouth completely filled it, and gods, you just loved shoving them in there. Little dummy would mindlessly start sucking and bobbing his head, or stroke your middle and index as he sucked on your thumb; similar to how he'd stroke your cock and suck your balls.

“Mmuuhh aah! Ouhh!” “Yeah…? You enjoying yourself…?” you growled between clenched teeth. All you saw before you was Vilkas bent over, having his body forced back and forth on your cock. His head hung low, causing drool to dribble off his top lip and fall in strings onto the messy sheets. He was getting the daylights fucked out of him, and there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to be sore after this. You removed your hands from his waist and stuck them in his mouth, stretching it into a smile with three fingers on each side. If only you saw how stupid he looked, the silly bastard. All he could do was roll his eyes back as you played with his body, head empty and full of bliss.

[Lycanthrope!Reader] You were even bigger in your beast form, holy hell. Your cock always left his ass a gaping, wide hole that oozed cum whenever you were done with him. You fucked him so rough and so good that he would leak a little.

Speaking of leaking, you both got the chance to leave your “mark” on each other. Farkas smelt a hint of you all over him but did not say anything even though it was so tempting to tease.

[Lycanthrope!Reader] Your stamina was also insane, and sex in your beast form also meant that he wouldn’t get sleep for a very long time, especially if he were in his form, too.

There have been multiple instances of animalistic sex in the remains of fallen foes.

Every sexual encounter added to the many scratches and bruises you both had. They could be played off as battle scars so it wasn’t a big deal if they were showing or not

[gloomwitchwrites]

Snowberries & Wolf Teeth

Vilkas x Farkas x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: language, kissing, F/M/M, beast forms, oral sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, multiple creampie, breeding, multiple positions, possessive behavior, alcohol, brief aftercare

Word Count: 3.4k

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

ao3 // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Whiterun is bathed in luminous light.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you wanting to dance?”

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

“You startled me, Vilkas.”

“My apologies,” he replies, retreating slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. You’ve wanted it for weeks now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kiss is deep. Blistering. A demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you won’t run. Not from them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re full. Stretched. Filthy and feral.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give her to me, Farkas.”

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

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

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

But Vilkas is not idle.

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

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

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

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

“Touch yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[strugglingwriterwattpad]

as a shield brother it was farkas’ job to protect the new welp who had join their group. but on a night where it was supposed to be just her welcoming to the circle, his wolf couldn't take it anymore.

[argisthebulwark]

Time Moves Slow - Farkas

sfw, gn reader Summary: After returning from Sovngarde the Dragonborn finds that a handful of hours for them has been years for those in Tamriel and reunites with their loved one. Others Linked: Vilkas, Brynjolf, Teldryn, Miraak, Cicero

Full of adrenaline and excitement you hustled through the Whiterun plains. Your pack pounded against your lower back but every step brought you closer to Farkas. It was a tad surprising to return to no fanfare. A city guard nodded when you approached the gate but said nothing. The flowers you'd planted only a few weeks ago were nearly dead and Breezehome's paint was faded. It was odd to stand in front of your own home and not recognize it. Dark curtains covered most windows and a workbench boasted some unfinished leather project. Your key stuck in the unforgiving lock. Dread settled into your stomach upon entering your home. The furniture was new, herbs hanging from the rafters and weapons littered on every surface. Dishes were piled messily into a sink you'd cleaned only the day before. Peeking into your apothecary room revealed nothing more than more clutter - armor and weapons stacked into chests you'd never seen before. Your alchemy table bore a lifetime's worth of dust and the shelves surrounding it were devastatingly bare. Something was very wrong. Your footsteps echoed around the strange house when you hurried upstairs. Lydia's room was long empty, bedroll collecting dust in the corner of the empty chamber. Blood roared in your ears when you stared at the state of your bed chambers. Unfamiliar blankets were strewn haphazardly across the bed. Pillows were stacked on one side, the other barren. Farkas' slippers stuck out near his bedside table. A sheet was draped over the case bearing your Amulets of Mara and your wardrobe had been shoved far out of place. Terror chilled your blood when you approached the bed you'd slept in the night before. Something had gone very wrong. Your fingers dragged over the strange blankets as you tried to work out what it could be - had your presence in Sovngarde triggered some reaction in your absence? Your books were gone. Your clothes folded and forgotten in an old trunk. Your leather armor hidden under heaps of heavy metal. Every bit of you seemed to be hidden and shoved away. There was no proof of your existence yet you'd only left a day before. Head spinning, you sat down on the bed. Nothing made sense. Your home was no longer your home. Had you somehow returned to the wrong time? You'd hardly given any thought to your return, planning only for Alduin's demise. "What the -" A voice cut through your thoughts and brought a new bout of anxiety. Strained ears heard the door shut and heavy footfalls through the house. Was this even your home? If you'd returned to the wrong time perhaps Farkas had sold the house. You could be trespassing. "Hello?" A deep voice rumbled up the stairs. "I know someone's been in here. There's nothing much worth stealing, might as well come out." Farkas. That's his voice. Scrambling across the bedroom all anxiety was forgotten at the thought of seeing him. He'd make it alright. He'd explain everything. Your boots scraped over the wooden floor when you panted atop of the stairs, eyes narrowing to spot him through the dim light. A scar his brow. His hair was lighter, tied back from his face in a way you'd never seen before. He shrugged an immense sword off his shoulder and left it on the new couch. When he finally looked up his eyes held dark circles, his familiar smile gone. "Farkas." You breathed his name and his face tightened. "What happened?" "Say that again." He gulped, taking one unsure step. "Say what?" "Say my name." "Farkas." You'd say his name a thousand times. A grin broke out over his face and you launched down the stairs. Everything was so uncertain but he's there to catch you, drawing you into an embrace that hadn't changed. Farkas' strong arms crushed you to his body, tears soaking into his tunic when he finally spoke your name. "I thought you were gone." He mumbled between heavy sobs, clutching you as if you were bound to disappear. "I thought I lost you."

[hircinesanters]

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

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

[satanwritesfanfiction]

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

Title: under the influence

Rating: explicit, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: skyrim

Relationship: farkas x f!reader

Characters: farkas, you

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

Wordcount: 3900

a/n: Farkas is best boii

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still want to retreat to bed?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[miraakulous-c6]

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

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

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

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

It is pretty obvious to everyone but him and the Dragonborn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[wickeddragonworld]

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