Skyrim One-Shots

Brynjolf x Reader(Male) ~Coming Back For You~

The rain spattered onto his shoulders and onto the stone around him. Slim fitted (though still bulky) boots sent rivets through the growing puddles on the Riften paths, the sound of them hitting the ground deeply, and his eyes watched them briefly. His face was covered by a golden mask, and his hair covered by the hood attached to it. His gaze never stayed on one thing very long, always moving and always flickering around. He was back here. He was back. 

After... After Sovngarde, he had been on autopilot. He was going to do what scared him the most, what brought fear and guilt and sorrow to dwell in his bones, and he was going to tame it. The words of the most revered warrior in all of Nordic history rang in his mind, over and over.  "What if life on Nirn could be like this? Like Sovngarde? Do not waste your life, boy. I see it in your eyes- this is not you. You are no warrior. You do not want to be here. I respect that, but you must follow what your head tells you. You must go with the soul and follow it. Your duty is done, and those you cherish must miss you; who are you to ignore their hearts?"

Brynjolf.

No, no, Bryn.

Dozens and dozens of letters- worried, cocky, flirty, playful, lonely, and a handful more had been sent by the master thief once ____ had left to finally answer the Greybread's call. He had tried to respond to them all, and when he remembered how scrambled he was to write them and how little thought and feeling he had put into them had sent him on a spiral of self-loathing for a good day as he made the trip to Riften. His mind was whirling about,  thinking of all the things he wanted to change. Even if Bryn had lost his feelings (which he talked of few and far between) ____ wanted to thank the man for what he'd done for him.

That redhead had taught him who he was. Who he wasn't. Who he should trust. Who he should call family, friend, or fore. Most importantly, who he wanted to be.

He didn't have enough experience to know how to read Brynjolf. He didn't notice the small, little things the man did for him. Now, they added up like a inn tab. He remembered everything Brynjolf did for him, down to that moment when they first met when the thief had slipped him a few lockpicks because he'd been out since that morning and had went to Riften to get some.

Well, he hadn't expected to join the thieves guild, but hey, he wouldn't be here now if he hadn't.

He turned into an alleyway and then onto a dirt path, walking to a small graveyard where a Talos shrine lingered. ____ chucked, knowing he'd spooked the woman who frequented it and waved to her once she realized he wasn't a guard and came out of her small hiding space.

"You don't see a thing," he hummed, approaching the largest tomb under a small stone canopy and hit a button, the stone moving back to reveal a set of stairs.

"See what?" she called assuringly.

He pulled the chain and closed the door, the single torch in the small room lighting up the trapdoor. He grabbed the iron ring, pulled it up, and slipped onto the ladder, closing the trapdoor behind him. The ladder didn't make a sound as he moved down it; either a sturdy ladder or his light feet.

When the dark of the tunnel turned into a brighter setting and his feet hit the ground, he turned around and was met by the familiar, same old Cistern save for a lot more beds. He approached his bed, found it was just the same as he left it (surprising, he'd expected someone to take it by now) and opened the chest.

Gold was still there. Potions were still there. Guild armor, check (if it was gone, he'd be slightly confused- Tonila was here for a reason). Some musky civilian clothes were stashed too, folded neatly. His favorite tunic and trousers! Gah, how could he forget! A smiled appeared under his mask, water slowly dripping down it, and he let his damp pack fall into the chest, grabbing the outfit and giving it a solid shake to rid of anything and then closed his trunk.

Everyone must've been on jobs. To be fair, it was just barely dusk, so it was prime time for activity to start flaring up. Throwing the clothes over his shoulder, he walked to the showers. He cleaned himself and changed quickly- the water was cold today. No doubt tomorrow it'd be warm from the weather.

He made his hair somewhat presentable and away from his face then gathered his former armors and made his way back to the Cistern, sliding the neat pile of metal under his bed before he grabbed the boots he had put there so long ago. Pulling them on was admittedly difficult, as was putting on his tunic and trousers. He had a lot more muscle than before, as it seemed. Not so much of a lanky twig.

No, he'd filled out his skin with hard, solid, steel-like muscle. He wondered if Brynjolf liked his new looks. He'd gotten a new scar to his face, too- right on his cheek and jaw. Not to mention his back and abdomen from Aldiun's talons and mouth. Rubbing his nose a bit, ____ headed into the Ragged Flagon, opening the closet to enter after clearing the hallway to it and closing it.

When his old colleges noticed him, or rather, noticed his presence (they hadn't quite realized who it was yet, telling by the way they both stiffened and made hard faces), it was his clothing that gave him away.

Vex, the white-haired fire, gave him a growl. "The fuck are you doing round here?"

Delvin, the older man beside her, leaned back in his chair and simply stared at him. "You, twiddle fuck, better be stayin' for good. You gonna tell us what that mission of yours entailed?"

"For good," he promised, raising his hands in surrender. "Had to kill a big, ugly dragon and all of its cronies. Forgiven?"

"Gimme that fun-ron-dam."

"Fus-ro-dah, you mean," ____ grinned a bit, his words in dovahzul causing a blue mist to breathe out of his mouth. He hadn't used his thu'um, but it wanted to be used, and it made itself known. The bald man nodded, taking a swig of his mead as Vex scowled.

"I suppose that'll be enough," the man cracked a grin. ____ had only told Brynjolf about why he had to leave, and the man had been silent and lost in his own thoughts before he'd just embraced him.

"Delvin, got a few trinkets for you. Vex, got a new pile of-" the accented voice came, and then the loud sound of papers and metal dropping to the floor echoed right behind ____.

He turned, meeting eyes with the new Guildmaster who was frozen in place.

A grin slipped onto his lips. "You're still short, I see."

Brynjolf was opening and closing his mouth like a suffocating fish, eyes wide and shocked.

"What are you doing, Bryn? Get over here!" the returning thief called, opening his arms out and the redhead had snapped out of his haze and took long strides to reach him and in a few moments had returned the embrace, digging his head into the Dragonborn's shoulder.

"I suppose I look ravishing?" he teased. No way in hell was he going to let this man in his arms slip away again- not when his obvious pleasure to see him was making itself known by the hardness pressing against his upper thigh.

"I-  you know what, lad, fuck you," Brynjolf pulled back, a smiled on his face- no, no, a beam. He was almost bursting from child-like happiness and ____ could see it, and it made him happy too. "I missed you, dammit."

"I missed you more," the Dragonborn smiled. "You saved my bed, I noticed."

"To be fair, I saved mine too," the accented man grinned.

"Hit 'em, Bryn!" Delvin cackled.

"Would you look at that, it seems like we both did. I'd say you're asking for something, Brynjolf."

"Don't say my name like that, lad. Does things to a man."

"I can tell."

"Get a room!" Vex screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i made it its 11:59

i did it oaglknagiohrasjg

dani out adieu hope u liked this bai kajf;slkdagn