Do I know what this is? No. Neither do you. But you know you wanna read it, so think about leaving some feedback if ya ain't shy. (Please enjoy!)
Vyni had no idea how he had ended up here. One minute he's on some silly hunting quest for those fools in Falkreath, and the next he's slaughtering a bunch of incompetent hunters with shoddy weapons and even shoddier armor. It didn't take much to wipe the hunters away, though he was still frustrated. Honestly, what would it take to just get some peace and quiet for once? Did he always have to be on his feet, running around and doing good and being the Dragonborn?
The Bosmer wanted nothing but a comfy bed and maybe some spiced wine. Instead, he was standing in Bloated Man's Grotto, with the dull roar of the small waterfall ringing in his ears. He wasn't sure if the hunter he'd slayed with his sword had been the last hunter, but he could hear no other shouting or the angry growls of Sinding. Vyni turned on his heels, weary and yearning for a good night's rest. He planned to trek through the Grotto and leave, hopefully without hearing any sort of emotional speech from Sinding, as was usually the norm for the people he begrudgingly helped here in Skyrim.
"Hey..." Ah, fuck, there went that plan. Vyni turned, finding Sinding standing just behind him, still in his gigantic beast form. Feeling his stomach twist just at the sight of the werewolf, he heaved a great sigh, already done with this shit.
"The hunters are dead." Vyni knew damn well how dull and flat his voice sounded. "I imagine you'd like to thank me a whole bunch and pledge your undying love, but I've got other stuff to do and I don't much care, either."
Like throw back an entire bottle of mead, or maybe a whole crate. Forget the wine. Mead would go to his head faster.
"I was going to thank you, but now I see that you're just as callous as those hunters. I'm going to make my home here, where I can't hurt anyone."
"Oh, thank god, does that mean I won't have to hear you asking to marry me every time I wear a fucking necklace?" Vyni didn't wait to hear Sinding's response, simply turning to walk off and get started on his plan to drink until he dropped.
At least. That had been the plan. Turn away and walk off and never see the werewolf again. It seemed, however, that Sinding had a different plan; just as the Bosmer thought he'd get out of there alive, something hit him, big enough and heavy enough to drag him to the ground and pin him there. Despite having his face pushed into the dirt, Vyni knew exactly what had just happened, and exactly what was on top of him; Sinding. He smell the werewolf's musk, thick and disgusting. Something musty and old-blood smelling that made him want to gag.
"Hircine forgive me…but I want nothing more than to tear you apart right now." Vyni flinched, gasping as a hot, wet tongue slid over the back of his neck. "But I think, as a predator, I should make you submit like the pathetic prey you pretend not to be."
That tongue slid up, through his hair, then the weight on his back vanished. Taking the chance, the Bosmer rolled onto his back, scrambling to grab his sword - but Sinding simply tore it from his hands, claws leaving deep scratches in his gauntlets. He had a dagger strapped to his thigh, but the werewolf was busy tearing at his armor until the various straps snapped and the metal was pulled off.
The Bosmer tried to roll again, onto his stomach, fingers digging into the dirt in a vain attempt to pull himself from beneath Sinding and away from this new hunger in the werewolf. Vyni was so much smaller than him! Did Sinding realize what he could do to the small, wiry elf? There was a powerful yank on the armor on his torso, powerful enough to lift his upper body before those straps snapped too. His ruined armor was tossed aside, leaving Vyni shivering and naked beneath the very big, and very, very angry werewolf.
He was rolled back onto his back, face to face with Sinding's bared fangs and glittering, burning eyes.
"So, is i-it too late to say I'm sorry?" The flash of teeth in his face was the only reply he got. The werewolf backed away, but Vyni laid limp on the ground, chest heaving and limbs shaking. He was too fearful of death to move, to run. What if more hunters came? What would they think if they saw him, the Dragonborn, getting plowed by a giant werewolf like some slutty tavern wrench? He turned his eyes upwards as Sinding came back, sticking his snout between Vyni's legs, much to his surprise.
His legs jerked, but when the werewolf snarled in annoyance, the Bosmer sucked in a breath and let his head drop back down, even as Sinding began to lap rather noisily at his thighs. And rather messily, too. He could feel the copious amount of thick saliva already dripping down his thighs, pooling beneath his ass, and every desperate, hungry drag of that tongue between his thighs only added more. Vyni clamped a hand over his mouth, panting and trying - in vain - to muffle the pathetic whimpers collecting in his throat. The sounds only seemed to spur the werewolf on, as he became more frenzied, gripping and pulling at the Bosmer's hips to force him to bend at the waist, his own knees almost knocking into his head.
This new, slightly uncomfortable position exposed his ass even further to Sinding, and that damnable tongue could now reach his ass even better; the first drag of that wet heat across his anus had Vyni gasping and moaning before he could shut himself up. The second lick, while a little hesitant, had the Bosmer writhing, the sounds coming from him less than dignified as he jerked his hips away from the werewolf's mouth.
There was a pause as Sinding snarled, teeth just barely scraping over the supple flesh of his thighs.
"Stop fighting me, elf! You and I both know how much you want this. I could smell it on you the moment we met, the hot stench of need; How long have you yearned for someone to throw you around, to press you into the mud and take you like a rapid beast?" Sinding's words were true, of course; Vyni hadn't gotten a good lay since...well, since he left home, left that strong miner who liked to take him up against the mine walls.
Still...
"...hmm." The Bosmer turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut so he couldn't see the knowing look on the beastly face.
"There's no one else here." The werewolf was no longer growling, his voice soft and almost soothing, despite his current state of body and mind. "It's only you and me, there is no need to pretend here."
No judgement. No one to judge his actions, his thoughts, except perhaps the divine gods and the Daedric Princes he'd sworn his sword arm to. But they wouldn't care, would they? Might even applaud him for laying with a werewolf. Besides, he had a feeling Sinding might continue even he begged him not to.
He was still bent nearly in half, with Sinding still holding him up by the hips. When he moved, this time, he was let down and Vyni was able to scoot back, wincing at the sticky wetness coating his thighs. Gods, he needed a bath. Slowly looking up at Sinding, who still seemed angry, but was waiting patiently for Vyni to make up his mind, he swiped his hand through the layer of saliva on his thighs, then lifted his hand to show the werewolf the mess he'd made.
"This? This is disgusting." Vyni huffed, flicking the liquid at Sinding, receiving an unamused snort for the action. "B-but...if you don't bite me...I won't fight you."
This seemed to be a good deal, for Sinding promptly agreed - and then flipped Vyni onto his stomach. True to his word, the Bosmer didn't fight, simply dug his fingers into the soft dirt and struggled to even out his breathing. There came a gentle tug on his waist, and scrambled to bring his knees up beneath him, to raise his ass into the air and keep his face pressed against the ground. For his obedience, he was rewarded with a continuation of earlier, Sinding eating him out, slicking his ass and loosening the muscle. All he could do was push his hips back and moan into the dirt, body trembling and a new, unbridled heat pooling in his gut.
He lost track of time as that tongue pushed into him, Sinding's claws digging into his hips to stop the Bosmer from rutting back into him. His cock hung, heavy and untouched, between his legs, swaying with every jerk of his hips, pearly precum already beading at the tip. He wanted to speak, to beg Sinding to just take him, that he wouldn't mind the burn, the pain of the stretch, that he wanted to walk out of the Grotto with a limp - or not walk at all. However, all he could manage was a strangled groan, what sounded like a muffled attempt at Sinding's name.
Perhaps he managed to get the message across anyway, for the werewolf withdrew his tongue, making a pleased sort of sound as he did so. Vyni twisted his head, watching with hazy eyes as Sinding came ever closer. That warm, furry chest pushed against his back, forcing Vyni hard into the dirt. The werewolf pressed his hips forward, and the Bosmer gasped as the beast's slick, hot member slid between his thighs, much bigger than any Vyni had dared to take before.
Sinding pulled at Vyni's hips, thrusting his cock between the Bosmer's saliva coated thighs a few times before he lined the head up and pushed.
He didn't go slowly, but neither did he rush; The Bosmer was gasping at the burn, moaning and writhing and clenching down on the huge fucking cock that wasn't even halfway inside him. Sinding paused then, tongue licking at the tears Vyni hadn't realized were there. For a moment, they were still, only a few inches in, more to go, and the werewolf wouldn't move. Vyni didn't try to ask him to, trembling and a little overwhelmed, already feeling so full. He reached up, tried to find the werewolf's hand. His fingers curled around one single digit, and only when he gasped out a please did he start to move.
Sinding rocked his hips, slowly pushing his cock into the Bosmer, reassuringly licking the tapered ears and the back of his bare, sweaty neck. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Vyni felt the last few inches slide inside of him, and the sensation had him sobbing out Sinding's name, back arching as the thick base of his cock slide over his prostate.
"Look how full are you, how my cock fits so nicely. You were made to be a cock sheath, elf." The words growled into his ear were punctuated with Sinding grinding into him. A clawed hand moved to press into his stomach, which was bulging out with the size of the werewolf. Vyni couldn't even moan, voice broken down into crying Sinding's name over and over, and even that was barely coherent. Gods, this was almost too much! And Sinding hadn't even started to move, was just petting over his distended stomach, pushing against the bulge of his own cock like he was proud of it.
And perhaps he was.
All Vyni could do was lay there, trembling and panting, as Sinding lapped at his face and neck, barely rocking his hips into him. It was awful. It was worse than dealing with Sheogorath's crazy bargaining.
It was also wonderful. It felt so, so good to feel so full, to feel like he couldn't move even if he tried. It was only when he realized that base felt...thicker that he suddenly had a panicked question.
"Do...ah, hmm, d-do werewolves, uh, ha-have, oh fuck..." He almost couldn't get his question out, his thoughts turning to shambles whenever Sinding so much as ground their hips together. Thankfully, he seemed to understand where his panic came from.
"Yes...werewolves have knots...are you scared, elf?" Sinding licked along the prominent ridges of his spine, breath hot against his tender flesh. Vyni sank his teeth into his bottom lip, and pushed his hips back into Sinding; the knot wasn't so big as to be painful, but when he pulled forward, he found that it stayed firmly inside of him. At least, it stayed when it was him trying; Sinding pulled back and the knot popped out with an obscenely wet sound, causing Vyni to lurch backwards with a shocked cry. The werewolf slammed back into him, knot popping back in with another cry from the Bosmer.
Despite the writhing of the Bosmer, Sinding continued to fuck him, savagely slamming back in, forcing both pained and pleasured cries from the elf.
Now completely unable to stop the onslaught, Vyni could only sob and beg in incoherent babbling, pushing his hips back to meet every thrust. Sinding pulled at his hips, forcing his body into a new angle. This allowed for deeper, harsher thrusts, and he hit the Bosmer's prostate over and over, further ruining the elf and pulling louder cries, borderline screams from him.
Vyni couldn't hold on any longer, and the when that - gods, that knot - slammed back into him, now so big that it couldn't be pulled back out, he toppled over the edge, screaming Sinding's name as he came, vision blacking out as he scrambled for a handhold. When he came to, Sinding was still pressed against his back, cock still buried deep inside him. The werewolf was idly, lazily lapping at his neck. Vyni was distantly aware that there was a wet stickiness on his stomach and that he was more or less laying in it.
"Are you alright?" Sinding rumbled, the vibrations carrying through the Bosmer's back.
"Hmm...did...did you..." Vyni wasn't sure he could speak coherently yet. To get his point across, he pushed his hips back, where they were still connected by the werewolf's knot.
"Just after you. You'll notice once I'm...out."
"Ah." Vyni decided not to talk any more, letting his body go limp again as Sinding settled in, keeping the brunt of his weight off of the Bosmer. Every so often, he'd rock his hips, testing if he could pull out yet, then lick Vyni's face to apologize when the elf whined.
It wasn't long before Sinding was able to slide out, knot deflated enough to pull out of him with another wet pop, and not even a minute later he could feel exactly what Sinding had meant; the werewolf's slick dripped down his thighs and his now flaccid cock, warm and sticky. Shaking, Vyni propped himself up on his elbows, reaching between his thighs to touch his abused hole, inhaling sharply as he felt how wide Sinding's knot had stretched him. He pulled his hand away when a tongue lapped at him, the werewolf lapping up his own cum.
Vyni shifted, his shaky little moan bringing Sinding back to sniff at his face. He closed his eyes, curling against the werewolf as he changed, bones snapping and splintering and reforming into something smaller, more man-shaped than beast. When the Bosmer opened his eyes, Sinding the man was laying next to him, a satisfied, loopy grin on his face. He looked even wilder now than when he saw him in the Falkreath jail. With this in mind, Vyni leaned forward to kiss him, then tuck his head beneath the man's chin.
"When I-I...can walk, I need a bath." The Bosmer hooked a knee over Sinding's legs, receiving a chuckle and a hand squeezing his sore ass.
"Hmm, not against it. Rest now. And...I'm sorry. For earlier."
Vyni snorted, shaking his head and pressing a lazy kiss into Sinding's collarbone.
"It's fine, I was bein' an ass...and I liked it. So, don't be sorry."
"...Are you still going to snark at me about marriage?"
"I snark at everyone. You ain't special." A bold faced lie. Sinding seemed to bring out that special little place inside him that wanted to argue and flirt and spit sarcasm like a frostbite spider. He hummed as the man pinched his sides, the slight discomfort nothing to the soreness of developing bruises on his hips and thighs. It was quite for a moment, and then Vyni moved to look at Sinding, at his peaceful expression, at his soft smile. Gods, but that was a wonderful face. A very nice face. A good fuck. Not good for marriage...but really, neither of them were good for marriage. Too broken, too ruined by the blood on their hands.
Vyni kissed Sinding's neck and sighed.
"I won't mention marriage again. But I think I'll...be visiting a lot, if you really do stay here."
"For the violent sex?"
"...and a few other things. Mostly you. Not everyone can stand up to the Dragonborn like that." He was glad that his cheek was against Sinding's chest, the man couldn't see how flushed his face was.
"Aww, you like me?"
"...shut up, Sinding. I'm at the perfect angle to knee you in the balls." The werewolf chuckled into his hair, but said nothing more. Quiet fell, and Vyni slowly fell into a peaceful sleep against his chest.
At least he finally got some of that peace and quiet he had wanted.