A/N: For a very specific prompt on the Kink Meme, F!DB/Vilkas "We don't fight with magic here!"
Takes place during the 'test' fight with Vilkas to enter the Companions.
Unfortunate
Vilkas sighed, shook his head at the hopeless recruit, and barked out, "We don't fight with magic here!"
The woman looked at the weapon in her hand, confused. Vilkas could kill her, he really could. How could someone be so damn stupid? "Enchanted weapons count as magic. You have anything that doesn't deal fire damage?"
"Uh, hold on a sec." She tossed down the Ebony hammer and pulled a great sword off her back. She held it up to the light and glared at the enchanted glimmer of light playing off the blade. She dropped it down next to the hammer. She grabbed the bow that had been strung up over her shoulder next to the sword. She checked the quiver, simple ancient nordic arrows.
"Still enchanted."
"What? These arrows-"
"I wasn't talking about the arrows." She took a closer look at the bow and let out a scream of pure rage, throwing it beside her other discarded weapons. She began to pat herself down, looking for any weapons she may have secreted away. Vilkas watched a smile form on her face as she thrust her hand down into her boot and came up with a dagger.
A simple, not enchanted, rusty steel dagger.
This is going to be too easy.
Apparently, she took his silence to mean that they were ready to fight, and before he knew what happened, Vilkas found himself on his back, her dagger at his throat. He couldn't even move his sword into any kind of retaliatory position, she had one of her knees pinning his arms. He tried to buck her off. Disturbingly, all he did was proceed to create some rather unfortunate friction between them.
They both let out strangled gasps. He looked up at her with a scowl, she returned his look with a saucy grin and lowered herself so she sat perfectly atop him. Perched like it was the perfect place to relax after a long day and proceeded to make herself comfortable, wiggling in what was supposed to be an innocuous manner. The fact that her grin only grew into a smirk did nothing to aid her ruse.
Vilkas wasn't sure whether he wanted to fight it, or give in. She made the decision for him, just casually leaned down and slanted her lips over his. Figuring he was fucked anyway, the Nord threw himself into the kiss; letting all his rage and annoyance seep through and become a simple, wild need. He felt her grin against his lips and proceeded to let his tongue glide over the seam of her smile in vengeance.
In hindsight, that probably wasn't a very successful act of revenge, as all it did was make her laugh and grind her hips down into his. He tore his lips away and glared with everything that he was.
She was unfazed and proceeded to use the opportunity to attack his neck, somehow managing to keep her grip on the knife and hold him down despite her eager conquest of his throat. She bit down over a pulse-point and sucked.
He tried, but could not suppress the deep groan that escaped him. She trailed her lips up to his ear and whispered, "I think I win this round, Vilkas." Any protest he might have managed to make was silenced by a quick nip at his earlobe.
Then she was gone. Picking up her weapons and swaggering into Jorrvaskr.