Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.
I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.
The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3
Nice Ink 3/6
Date: 2013-05-06 04:08 am (UTC)“When was the last time you patched up this old thing, Erandur?” she asked. “It’s a miracle that it hasn’t fallen off from an errant breeze.”
“I’m a priest,” Erandur replied, feeling more covered as he pulled a thick fur blanket over him. “I don’t have money for frivolous things like new clothing.”
“Clothing is hardly frivolous,” Sinnowe retorted. “Had you been wearing something sturdier, you might not have been injured earlier today.”
Thinking back to his bath, Erandur felt himself blush again. She was right, of course. How often had he refused her offers of buying him new armor? No he had said. Offer the money to a beggar instead. If he had just once accepted, he would be less of a liability. He felt the guilt wash over him again. “You’re right, of course,” he said softly. “I apologize.”
He heard her exasperated huff and looked up to see her crossing the room. She leaned over the bed, her face inches from him. Her cheeks were slightly colored and her eyes were narrow. “Quit apologizing,” she said. “A man like you shouldn’t apologize.” With that, she threw his clothes at him and stormed out of the room.
Erandur stared at the door, confused. Shaking his head, he quickly got dressed and walked out into the common area of the tavern, but could not find Sinnowe. He asked Faida if she had seen her, but she shrugged.
“Walked right out the door,” the tavern-keeper said with a shrug. “She seemed a mite bothered, if you ask me.”
Erandur muttered a thanks and walked back into the room. He laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He ran his hands over the patched areas of his robes and smiled. It was rough and uneven, but it would hold. Sinnowe was good at many things, but apparently sewing was not one of those things.
Erandur wondered how long she had struggled with the robes. He imagined her frustrated, biting her lip like she did whenever a potion came out wrong or a merchant tried to give her a raw deal. He thought about the amount of attention she had paid to his ragged clothing, the concentration on making it just right, probably poking her fingers a couple times on accident. Erandur smiled. He imagined her tailoring all his clothes, making him dinner, kissing him on the forehead…
Bent over a table as he pounded into her from behind.
Erandur’s eye shot open. Where did that come from?
A warm feeling coiled in his stomach, travelling down. He blushed furiously and tried to push the images out of his head, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her kissing him, him biting her lips and pulling on her dark hair. He thought about how close she was to him, the way he saw her eyes lingered on his body earlier.
Turning over, he buried his face in his pillow. No. He couldn’t think about her like this. It had been so long since he had thought about anyone like this. That was it, he reasoned. He had been alone for so long that travelling with her had just renewed some strange feelings. But this did nothing to curb the slowly spreading warmth he felt in his groin. Erandur groaned and started muttering prayers to himself in an attempt to calm himself down. He did this for what seemed like forever.
It was going well until the door to their room opened once more. The absence of noise indicated that Sinnowe was back, because no one else nearby could possibly have a muffle enchantment on their boots. He didn’t say anything, hoping she would think he was asleep. She said nothing as well, though he heard her toss a bag on the floor. The clattering sounded suspiciously like bones and scales and he felt a wave of uselessness overcome him as he smelled the singed clothes and fresh blood.
She didn’t need him. She could kill dragons and trolls and bandits all on her own. He groaned into his pillow, hating himself once more.
“Erandur?” Sinnowe whispered.