I Want You Weak At The Knees
summary: friends with benefits, but both wanting more <3 gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Farkas, Teldryn, Vilkas warnings: explicit sexual content. minors should not read or engage with this post. masterlist
Brynjolf's life doesn't allow for a real relationship, never has and never will. The Guild, its clients, keeping an eye out for recruits, checking the vault, there's hardly enough time in his days to eat. Becoming the Guild Master has plopped you into the same chaos. Your days are a whirl of meetings and contracts, dealing with schedules and keeping everyone in line. Just thinking about it makes your head pound. You may not have evenings free for lavish dates or time to maintain a relationship but you can always carve out twenty minutes together. There's no time to be soft or shy, you know you want him as badly as he wants you. Armor is tossed aside and greedy hands keep your bodies pressed together. There is no time for tenderness when Brynjolf hauls you into the storage closet or you drag him into the vault, just pure need that can only be sated together. The way he looks at you strikes fear into your heart. Rough hands keep you pinned to the cold stone wall and he's gazing at you like he could fall in love. He knows you, knows every little sound you make and what the mean. Brynjolf pants your name when he's about to cum, always cutting off the admissions of love that threaten to spill out. But oh, how you adore him. Maybe someday the stars will align and you can be with him in a way that fulfills you both. For now these stolen moments will have to be enough.
Farkas makes no secret of how badly he wants you. The pet names, the careless touches, the way his shreds of free time are spent following you around Jorrvaskr. He loves to watch you work, gazing across your desk and thinking about the life you'll have together when you aren't drowning in work and someone else can shoulder some of his assignments. That same lovesick look is on his face when he fucks you. Farkas loves the way you fall apart in his hold, moaning his name like its a mantra. His heart swells every time your fingers twist into his hair or you leave biting kisses on his chest, praying that you'll leave another mark. A little piece of you to carry with him. He has to leave again in a few hours. Farkas can't even remember which Hold he's being sent to. It's what he'd intended to ask upon entering your office, he swears it. But you'd looked up at him with such shameless lust that he'd forgotten anything that wasn't you. "Love you," he gasps into your sweaty skin. He doesn't care if you know, everyone knows. You're already twitching with every rough thrust of his hips and whining his name, he does care if you know.
Teldryn's lifestyle isn't exactly hospitable for a relationship. You are constantly on the move and Teldryn's juggling requests from patrons, half of the time you're on different continents. It just doesn't work. Whenever a job is offered on Solstheim you're taking it praying that Teldryn is in town and free. He'll never admit to cancelling on numerous patrons when he sees you bounding up the docks. "Sorry." He'll mutter, tossing back their bag of coin. "Can't do it. Something more important came up." He savors every moment with you. Teldryn loves to watch you blush each time he refuses your coin, tucking his scarf around your face. "Told you to cover up." He fusses, refusing to move away once his hands creep to your shoulders. It never takes long. Teldryn listens to you rant about whatever annoyance the Greybeards or some Jarl has caused, his comforting touch on your back not enough to quench the endless need within him. A hand on your back becomes an arm around your shoulder, your body drifting closer until you hold onto him as you trek across the island. His needless fixes at your scarf lead to him kissing your warm cheeks, his lips always finding their way to yours. "This'll be the last time." You say for the fifth time. Teldryn's kisses trail down your throat and skillful hands gather your hair, his chuckle against your skin. "Mhm." He agrees halfheartedly. He doesn't bother making the same promises, he'll never get enough of you. "We should be professional, Tel." Oh, your little nickname sends a shiver down his spine. He grins at the way you say this despite your fingers splayed under his shirt. Maybe this time will be enough, his appetite for you will be sated. Teldryn doubts it when you clamber into his lap and kiss him, desperate and heavy with words neither one of you is willing to say.
"This isn't happening again." Vilkas lies, eyes rolling back when you grip his jaw. God, he loves your hands on him. "Right." His hips jerk involuntarily, teeth grinding together at the little chuckle it elicits. "You nearly cum in your pants from just arguing with me." He grumbles but can't contradict it. He stares up at you, enamored with the way your lips part and hair curls away from your face. He wants to tell you how gorgeous you are, how he'd abandon his lifelong commitment to the Companions for a chance at something real with you. "Shut up," he says instead. It earns a smile from you and you straddle his hips, his pulse ratcheting up at the easy way you touch him. Nothing compares to being with you. Vilkas hates the weeks you spend away from Jorrvaskr or he's out on some assignment. At one point you went a month without seeing one another. "Maybe you should be my personal guard." You muse, easily unbuttoning the top of his shirt. A breath catches in his throat and Vilkas bites back the way he wants to immediately agree, to drop everything and follow you around like a loyal dog. "You don't need a guard." He huffs out something that sounds like a laugh. "No," you agree, fingers trailing over his chest. "But wouldn't it be fun to spend all our time together?" He can't compute it. You've never spoken about this so frankly, it's always been smothered in layers of irony and teasing. Vilkas blinks up at you and trying to figure out what kind of joke you're going to make. "Don't you want that?" You sigh, pointedly avoiding his gaze. "You and me somewhere far from Jorrvaskr, always working on the same job. Seeing each other every day." He can't say the word yes fast enough. Vilkas isn't even sure what he's agreeing to but he's kissing you, something genuine blooming in his chest at the thought of spending every day at your side.













